#since she writes in every genre

[heart-bones]

absolutely reeling at the tswft saga today like I promise you don't have to defend her this much I understand but we're not gonna agree on it

[ikeuverse]

to believe | sjy

pairing: ex!jake x fem!reader  genres: angst, smut, fluff wc: 15.4k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : argument, swearing, mention of cheating, fights, brief description of a physical fight, unprotected sex (don't do it, do it safely), nipple play, cumming inside. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : you have the mission of being godmother at your brother's wedding, but the only obstacle is sharing it with his best friend, and your ex-bf who you're sure cheated on you, jake sim.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : one of the many stories i have saved for my jake. it was supposed to be short, but i can't, i always get carried away writing it! i hope you enjoy it.

꒰ 𝅄 masterlist ꒱

“I don't believe it” you said, a sigh of weariness and discontent coming from your lips when your brother's voice informed you of this.

You had known that he and Josie would get married from the moment they got engaged in their last year of high school. Heeseung was completely in love with your best friend and you, being a great person, encouraged the two of them to get together. But what frustrated you wasn't the wedding itself, or the responsibility you had been given as a bridesmaid, but the fact that it would all be shared with Jake Sim, Josie's brother and, ironically, your ex-boyfriend.

It would be a blessing to have his friendship after the two of you broke up because, after all, both families would be united one way or another. But the break-up hadn't been pleasant at all and, after a year apart, any interaction between you and Jake was cause for friction. If you were in a cartoon, sparks would surely fly from the two of you every time you were in the same room.

“Come on Y/n, Jake is my best friend and Josie's brother” Heeseung sighed too, putting on a pout that almost had you convinced of the proposal “It was obvious that he would be best man with you at our wedding.”

Your brother was right and you knew it from the start. Since before you and Jake broke up. When Heeseung and Josie talked about marriage in college, saying that the two of you would be the best man because it was perfect that you were both also dating. A coincidence that life provided. Your best friend dating your brother and you dating your best friend's brother. But since things weren't that simple for you, only Josie was happy now.

“Can't you and she, I don't know, just have more than one best man?” your eyes wandered over to your brother who was trying to maintain a relaxed posture, his body slumped nonchalantly on the sofa at your parents' house. Where you and he got together every weekend for lunch or just to pass the time in your hectic lives without any contact during the week “I'd love to be a bridesmaid to Jungwon, for example.”

“He'll be one of the godparents, of course” Heeseung smiled at you, although his gaze was on the large television that was playing some program that your brother could barely pay attention to “But your mission and Jake's are much greater because, well… You'll be our witnesses.”

It was a more than important title. Witnessing their union from the beginning, seeing them sign the papers and then exchange vows, it was all so beautiful.

“That's not the problem” he sighed so loudly that it was only at that moment that Heeseung stopped staring at the television so that he could look in your direction “It's that I'm going to have to go after practically everything for you and Josie together with Jake.”

“A great opportunity for you two to talk and finally understand each other” he said without thinking, regretting it at the exact moment he felt a pillow fly at his head “Ouch! What the fuck, Y/n?”

“You're defending him again!”

“I'm just telling you to really listen to him” Heeseung protected himself from another pillow to the head, holding it in the air before you could even hit him “Jake wouldn't be able to do that. Even more so with you.”

Even more so with you. Why did your brother insist on defending Jake? As if you were dumb enough to have gone to meet him in the locker room before the friendly match and, unfortunately, found a bra in his locker that wasn't yours. You didn't even wear pink bows on the bulge, it was too cute. Only someone wore that kind of outfit, showing off to everyone who had the chance. So it was easy to associate Jake, the captain of the university soccer team, with the slutty cheerleader you grew to hate even more.

Both Heeseung and Josie were forbidden to talk about it, to defend Jake in your presence, or to make you talk to him after you decided to end it all. It could have been completely childish of you not to listen to him, to throw your bra at Jake and utter the last words you could, looking deep into those brown eyes you had once come to love.

“I hate that I loved you” Jake didn't think it would hurt more than the accusation of betrayal, even though he hadn't even had the chance to say anything. Your voice was like a deep cut, bigger than any injury he had once felt playing soccer.

After that day you saw Jake Sim as the biggest traitor in history and the person you had all the bad feelings for. Even if the words had to be a little more restrained in the presence of family or when you decided to omit all the bad things that happened, saying that the break-up was because you wanted to take a trip abroad. The trip happened, and spending almost eight months in Madrid was able to clear your head.

Being away from Jake and everything that involved him and your family – which was now his too – helped you to cope a little with the distance. But you came back so quickly with the news of your brother's wedding that the last few months since your arrival in Madrid have all ended in arguments, or you and Jake swearing at each other until you can't take it anymore.

You could say you felt physical pain just being in his presence because you knew it was inevitable that you wouldn't have a single argument. Did he feel entitled to feel resentful and hurt by something he had done? And did Jake get irritated by the way you got angry without even giving him a chance to explain properly? Jake would never do that, but your mind and your eyes told you otherwise. You didn't want to listen to him, you didn't want to live with him. Perhaps living in Madrid after your brother's wedding could be an almost real thought, although you would never be able to leave your family in the long term.

“Y/n” Heeseung called out, taking you out of your thoughts as he held your hand. The gentle, comforting touch that only your older brother could provide “I know this situation will always be bad for you and him, but—” he squeezed your hand lightly “Can you do this for me and Josie? Please?”

The pleading voice was an extremely low game that Heeseung played with you to get what he wanted, but at that moment you felt vulnerability. You felt that he really wanted you to accept because it went beyond anything between you and Jake. It wasn't on purpose that he and Josie had done this, after all, you and Jake were the brothers of the bride and groom anyway. You both had to be at that wedding one way or another.

Squeezing Heeseung's hands back, you let out a low sigh. Your eyes wandered over his face as you saw hope run through the boy's eyes. It didn't seem like he was older than you and about to get married.

“All right, I'll try” you said at last, watching Heeseung's smile widen even more.

“Thanks Y/n, you're the best sister in the world” he bent down to kiss your cheek, releasing your hands to get up from the sofa.

“I'm the only sister you've got, asshole. I have to be the best!” you protested.

Heeseung's laughter echoed down the corridor to the kitchen, where he had disappeared. Surely he was going after some dessert to share with you while jabbering on about some wedding details he hadn't stopped talking about for a second since you showed up.

Your break-up wasn't an entirely amicable affair between the two of you. Your mind and heart were convinced that Jake had cheated on you, although you had never seen him get so worked up trying to explain that it would never happen. His hands gripping his hair as he paced the room, stuttering or not finishing a sentence because you didn't want to hear it. Part of you knew that denial came because you didn't want to hear anything from him and have to go back on what you saw, but another part still kept the image of that pink bow bra inside his locker in the changing room vivid.

But for your family, the break-up had gone smoothly. You both agreed to make up some excuse, after all, you'd still have to deal with each other for the rest of your lives because now Heeseung and Josie were getting married. There was no way you could avoid Jake or he could avoid you. His closest friends knew what had happened, two of Jake's best friends besides Heeseung and Susan, your other best friend along with Josie. Even though your anger towards him still remained, you didn't want others to think the wrong thing about you and Jake. Sparing you explanations or embarrassment. Even sparing you from remembering that day.

Living in a small – and false – harmony while being close to your family or anyone else who didn't know what actually happened. That's why the two of you were together in the party store at that moment.

Being appointed best man was something Jake knew would happen, ever since Heeseung confessed that he was going to propose to Josie a month before they finished university. Jake didn't want to be selfish by seeing his best friend in love while he was on the brink of ruin because, in addition to breaking up with you, he had just learned that you were going to another country. Maybe that was a good thing after all. Having you away would help him think and even try to find some way to get you to listen to him. Jake wouldn't give up on making you listen to him, even if it took years, he would make you hear the whole truth.

Looking around with a small sigh, he returned to the present moment. Staring at some baskets that he couldn't tell the material of. Wicker, bamboo or straw? Were those ropes really woven together, one by one?

“What have you got on your list?” your voice snapped him out of his reverie and made Jake look quickly in your direction. Trying to concentrate on your serious face, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked down at his notes.

He reached for the piece of paper in the back pocket of his jeans, opening what was already all but crumpled. While you had a notebook between your fingers, he had a piece of paper.

Typical Jake Sim, he knew you'd say that out loud if you were still together. And if you were together, you'd roll your eyes playfully and walk over to him, pick up the piece of paper, and throw it away, because his notes would be in your notebook too. And that would make you lean over and kiss him on the lips ever so sweetly, mumbling something about how Jake was a bit disorganized about it and that Josie had the craziest big brother in the world.

“Jake” you called him, almost whispering.

“Sorry” he took a deep breath, trying to focus on what was happening. Rolling his eyes at the words Josie had said a few hours ago, he hastily jotted them down on the piece of paper he was holding “I have some fabrics she asked me for and about three types of flowers for the bouquet and table arrangements.”

“Really?” you walked over to him, leaning close enough to see the piece of paper. Jake held his breath for a few seconds so as not to inhale your perfume, but if he didn't breathe, he would surely die. Then you slowly let out your breath while looking at the top of your head “Do they both think we're ceremonialists?”

“Maybe so” Jake said quietly “but from what Josie said, it's because they both trust us so much that we chose this so carefully.”

They were words she would say. Trusting you and Jake to choose the small details without giving them into the hands of someone she's never seen. Even more so Josie, who had always planned her wedding down to the smallest detail since she was fifteen, back when she hadn't even dreamed of falling in love with Lee Heeseung.

“Which of these three do you think is Josie's favorite?” your eyes searched Jake's after reading the paper. At that moment, neither of you wanted to face each other with such intensity, so close together. But you didn't know that approaching him to read the list would result in being so close. Walking away abruptly at that moment would have been rude, although you had never cared whether it was like that or not with Jake.

He looked at you. Really looked. As he had done ever since he'd seen you for the first time, and it made you feel strange inside. You wanted to think that maybe it was the nervousness of being alone with him after such a long time, being assigned to tasks like being a bridesmaid.

“Dahlia?” he said.

“Was that a question?” you asked him back, raising an eyebrow when you saw the uncertainty in Jake's voice.

“Come on, she's your best friend.”

“And she's your sister.”

“So what?” Jake asked “I don't know what her favorite flower is, Y/n. I don't even know about flowers.”

A big lie, Jake understood. In parts. When the two of you started dating, he did a lot of research on the internet about flowers and their meanings, finding out about the orchid and what it represented. When he bought you your first bouquet of orchids, reciting why he had done it, that was when Jake saw you cry with joy and love for the first time since you two started dating.

And it was from that day on that you both called the orchid the flower of your relationship.

“Yes, you do” you whispered so that he wouldn't hear, you didn't want him to hear. For him to understand that you were thinking practically the same thing as him.

Having that moment of a few hours without a single argument was the result of many requests and practically an engaged couple begging you and Jake not to jump on each other for the sake of the wedding that was yet to take place. Josie knew you well enough to know your limits around Jake, just as she also knew how her brother would cope with being in your presence for so long. It had to be perfect, and it wouldn't be something from your and Jake's old relationship that would affect what she had always dreamed of.

“I'll find the decorations for the tables, can you see the flowers?” Jake just agreed with you as he continued down the aisle of baskets and trinkets for flower arrangements. Agreeing with what you were saying was something he had been practicing over the weeks as he was assigned to spend more time than necessary by your side.

Sometimes the two of you would go out with Heeseung and Josie, looking for things related to the wedding and everything that could be used for the big party. Jake saw how much Heeseung agreed with his fiancée and, with subtle comments, he managed to change her mind when she didn't agree with something. This could be the big key to why their relationship had worked so well from the start.

Where did I go wrong? Jake felt selfish for thinking so, knowing exactly where he went wrong. He didn't insist enough on a conversation, he didn't make you listen to him the way you should have and, as a result, almost a year went by with him being set up as a liar in your head. That's why he decided not to argue and just agreed when you asked or gave your opinion. He agreed with almost everything because he knew how good you were at decorating, not to mention the fact that he knew that you and Josie had talked about marriage for hours when you were still Jake's girlfriend. He remembers nights when he would play with Heeseung while the two of you watched dress fittings, giving your opinions on which one you would like to wear on the big day.

While his sister opted for more flashy things, with some stones and sparkles in the veil, you always chose the simple, strapless dress that accentuated the curves of your body and without too much lace because you didn't want something so big. This simplicity made Jake's eyes sparkle because he could clearly see you in a simple dress. Although all the beauty would turn to your face, no matter what you were wearing.

“Flowers, Jake. Focus on the flowers” he said to himself as he pushed a trolley through the aisles of the store. Memorizing the ones Josie had told him about as an option and going to where they all were.

He had to concentrate on that or he would go mad because there was no way not to have nostalgic thoughts when you were around without fighting with him. These moments were rare, but when they happened, Jake knew he wasn't the only one who thought like that.

Looking at the labels naming each flower, he wondered if it was really necessary. Whether Josie would be angry if he chose any of them instead of the three on that piece of paper because they were just flowers. A color that wasn't too flashy – the only thing Jake could think of was that his sister wanted everything in rosé and champagne tones – and the flowers could be light pink or white. If he got one of those colors, but it wasn't the one she wanted, would his sister be happy? He didn't want to risk that much, so he sighed heavily in search of a dahlia or any of the other two that were named.

Luckily, the white dahlias weren't that far away, and Jake managed to get just the right amount to show Josie and see if that was what she was going to take. Apart from taking a small bouquet, he would probably have to go back with Heeseung and pick up countless flowers just to put on the tables of so many guests he didn't even know his sister had invited.

Rolling his eyes at some of them, Jake gathered a good amount into a clumsy bouquet but organized enough to take to the cashier and pay. His eyes rolled over a few flowers until they stopped: the orchids. He didn't want his heart to race so much that he had to bite his lower lip to suppress a smile. Jake could go on for years without talking to you, but it would never leave his mind.

“You're an idiot, Jake Sim” he hated having the habit of talking to himself while he was in such an internal dilemma but taking just one orchid and hiding it under the bouquet of dahlias was necessary at that moment. He didn't know why he'd done it, but he knew he had to.

“Have you got the flowers yet?” your voice sounded a little louder than usual, at the exact moment when Jake put the flowers into the trolley and looked down the corridor in his direction. He just nodded, watching you approach with some things he couldn't even tell you what they were. Maybe not even you. But they were all named according to what the bride and groom wanted, so all was well and good.

“Do we need anything else?” Jake asked after you'd put everything in the trolley, not even bothering to check that the amount of flowers he'd picked up was correct. This made him sigh with relief, so he wouldn't have to explain why he'd picked up an orchid out of the blue.

“I think we got everything in this store” you said at last, turning away from Jake to look in your notebook and make sure you knew what you were talking about.

He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, run to Heeseung, and tell him what was going on. Or even ask his best friend to take his place on the next outing for the wedding stuff. Because if it went on like this, Jake didn't know if he could take it any longer.

The look on Josie's face could only indicate two things: either she was very nervous, or she had done something wrong. And considering that all the women were gathered in the living room of Mrs. Sim's house for the pre-wedding lingerie tea, maybe your friend was just nervous.

Looking at her for a while, you saw her say something to Susan and, when they both agreed on something before telling you, you could certainly suspect the second thought. This made your heart race because, if something had gone wrong, it was your job as godmother to fix it.

“What happened?” you quickly asked when the two of them approached, Susan looking around before glancing at you and then at Josie.

“Josie needs to tell you something” she said, and then you saw your sister-in-law and best friend open her mouth to say something, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted her.

Some women were arriving, Josie's friends from work, other family friends that Mrs. Sim and her mother had made a point of inviting. Everything would be very welcome if it meant getting things from people before her wedding, after all, Josie wouldn't deny any gifts. She also called some friends from college, and for some reason, your mind clicked so far ahead that you only realized what was happening when you saw her walk through the door.

Your stomach did such a somersault that you almost threw up the lunch you'd eaten with Susan before getting things ready for Josie at her mother's house. You thought the last time you'd see Stacy Joseph, the owner of the pink bow bra, would be in that hallway where you threw it at her and nearly broke her nose when you went to make amends. The last contact between the two of you was with Susan standing between you and her after you punched her in the nose, watching her bleed while you told her to swallow that stupid fabric. After that, you never saw her around the college campus, near anyone you knew or, worse, near Jake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Girls!” even her voice made you nauseous, and you wanted to ask yourself over and over again why Jake had chosen Stacy Joseph to be the pivot of the break-up and the reason for the betrayal between the two of you.

You remained silent the whole time she entered the house, left the gift package in the middle of the living room, and walked in the direction the three of you were heading. As a little dejavú, Susan stood next to you, almost between the two of you when Stacy got close enough to greet Josie.

“I'm so happy you're getting married, that's so cool” she hugged Josie so tightly, that you wanted to rip her out of her best friend's arms.

“Thank you for coming” she just replied, letting go of the hug and looking straight at you.

Stacy didn't say your name or Susan's, but the cordiality meant that she just nodded at you both in mute greeting.

“Y/n” Josie called your name, but your head was spinning and you looked like you were going to throw up. Her voice lingered in the back of your mind as you broke away from your friends and ran to Mrs. Sim's kitchen.

This couldn't be happening, not to you. For almost a year you had managed to forget what her face looked like, her voice, and even her presence, focusing your anger only on Jake because he was the only one you were around all the time. Now seeing her in front of you again, being invited to your sister-in-law's pre-wedding party… No, that was too much for you.

“Look Y/n, listen to me” Josie entered the kitchen, followed by Susan who looked at the two of you and then towards the entrance to the room, fearing that Stacy might follow them and, who knows, start an unnecessary argument “I heard she was coming a few hours ago, and it was because of your brother!”

“What do you mean?” you didn't want to look at her now, you didn't want to show how much this affected you. So your gaze went to the counter where your mother had placed drinks to be served when all the women had arrived. You didn't mind opening a bottle with the highest proof, grabbing a glass, and filling it halfway before downing it. “Shit.”

“Y/n” Josie was on the other side of the counter, right in front of you. Susan was next to her, looking at you too. “I didn't know she was Haechan's girlfriend because he never told us, and since Heeseung invited him because he was on the soccer team… He asked if he could invite his girlfriend and—” she took a deep breath, feeling her eyes burn at how shaken you had been. When you filled the glass for the second time, Josie quickly took it and drank, just like you had done a few seconds before, feeling the burning sensation go down your throat. “Haechan didn't say her name or anything, otherwise I would have made an excuse.”

“No” you quickly said. “It's okay, it's just—”

“Besides, Jake didn't even cheat on you, but you don't want to hear that right now” Susan took the glass from Josie's hand, looking in your direction with a raised eyebrow. You felt your whole body ache just thinking about starting that debate again, how tired and upset you were to see your best friends siding with a traitor like Jake. No one had seen what you saw in his locker, so why not believe you?

“We found you three” Mrs. Sim entered the kitchen with an unusual excitement. She smiled at the three of you and didn’t notice the strange atmosphere that was there before she arrived “Have you gone to taste our drinks yet?” she laughed when she saw the glass in Josie’s hand and the open bottle in front of you. Your mother came in right after with one of her arms linked through Jake’s. And that’s when your legs went completely weak.

“What are you doing here, honey? It’s a women-only party” Mrs. Sim said as soon as she saw her son enter the kitchen with your mother. She seemed to be babbling about something he hadn’t even heard yet.

“I came to get my wallet and car keys” Jake said, but his gaze was on you the whole time. You felt that he was, even though you had looked away so as not to look at him at that moment.

“Then you can leave, there will only be women’s talk here” your mother let go of his arm for a second, “Things about panties, drinks, bras, and stuff.”

She and your mother laughed, you saw Josie’s smile slowly appear, as she searched for your gaze.

“About bras? Then Jake can stay” you murmured, “He loves that.”

Oh, no. It had been too long since the two of you had had an argument since the wedding preparations began. You looked up at him, seeing that Jake seemed unreadable with that expression. He had definitely seen Stacy in the living room because your mother was there welcoming people, so he must have seen her. Or worse, he must have heard Haechan talking about her when he arrived for the boys' party that was happening simultaneously at your house at that moment.

“I love bras? Is that what you're saying?” Jake scoffed, the sound making your whole body shiver. Josie and Susan looked at the situation nervously, trying to predict the next moves to try to intervene since your mothers were there. It would be the first argument in front of them.

“Of course” you smiled falsely, “With pink bows and everything.”

The sound around happened naturally, people talking loudly and walking from one side to the other. In the other room, it was easy to hear the laughter of the women who were eager to start the party. Your mother and Jake's mother picked up some bottles, paying attention to the two of you who were standing there staring at each other. While Josie, surreptitiously, walked to her brother's side to try to get him out of there.

“I hate bras” Jake made a small face when his sister approached “You must know that Y/n, because I took yours off every day.”

“Holy shit” Susan almost choked on her own saliva as she held back a laugh, even though the mood wasn't conducive to it. But your face was priceless because no one expected that answer from Jake. Not even you.

“What?” your mother looked at you two, astonished, although she didn’t need to explain to anyone what happened in a relationship. Even more so for as long as it had lasted with you and Jake. You two were adults, above all, and no one would interfere in that.

“Sorry” Jake quickly said, feeling Josie’s hand on his shoulders, gently pushing him out of the kitchen. “Have a good party, girls. See you later!” he felt his cheeks burning, even though he had given you a good answer, it was still in the presence of your mother and his mother, so Jake acted on total impulse.

Of course, he was nervous and scared when he saw Stacy in the living room of his mother’s house. He knew Haechan was dating someone, but no one knew who she was until she showed up. Jake knew he had a lot to tell Heeseung as soon as he got to his house for the boys’ party, but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering to the moment the two of you had in the kitchen. If Jake thought that this marriage would be peaceful, even with the problems, now he had just felt that it wasn't.

Three days until the wedding, where Josie and Heeseung would exchange vows, celebrate, and finally become part of the same family. She was so happy to know that her wishes were coming true, especially with someone like Heeseung. Who had always taken care of her since the first moment they were together. So planning and executing every little thing of that party didn't become a tiring job because, in the end, it made up for the joy of both of them.

And that was why you tried to ignore the discomfort in your chest every time you were around Jake – more than usual – after the meeting between the two of you at his parents' house. A whole week passed after that and you tried not to be around him alone for so long, even though you had to hurry to try on the dresses that your sister-in-law had set aside for the bridesmaid.

Going to the wedding dress store had to be a task done by you and Jake, together. But after that, you wanted to avoid him as much as he was trying to avoid you too. So you left your apartment without waiting for his ride, which was happening in the last few moments of every place you two went together. You went into the store and gave the bride's name, saying that there were some spares for you to try on in the color Josie had designated for you. The saleswoman, smiling and attentive, took you to the changing room so you could try it on and see how it would look on your body.

Being covered in a chic, pink, almost silk dress made you feel beautiful and desired. You knew Josie had that kind of taste. It was easy to trust her taste in clothes, but it wouldn't be an effort to try them on just to make her happy. Maybe you would keep the first one you put on anyway, but since there were five more on the hangers, you would need to put each one on. That way you could tell her why you had chosen one over the other.

“This way, Mr. Jake” the voice of the same saleswoman called down the hallway and you quickly straightened up, adjusting the second dress on your body when you heard footsteps walking in front of your door.

You ran to it and unlocked it, on impulse, just as the saleswoman was opening the door to the dressing room across from yours.

"Y/n? Are you here yet?" Jake was startled when he looked at you, but his eyes softened enough for him to make eye contact for a few seconds. You just nodded, looking away at the saleswoman.

“So you two are Josie and Heeseung’s godparents?” she asked.

“Yes” you and Jake said at the same time, her smile widening.

“Perfect” you said slowly. “Mr. Jake, your suits are in there as requested, and Ms. Y/n, did the dresses look good?”

“I’m still trying on the second one” you opened the door a little wider to show her. It wasn’t the silk of the first dress, but the lace and rhinestone trim gave a perfect glimpse of the curves of your hips. The saleswoman had a fond smile on her face, complimenting how beautiful you looked.

“It really does look beautiful” Jake blurted out, taking you and the saleswoman out of the small conversation you had both been having. Only then did he notice that the three of you were still standing in the hallway and that you were still wearing one of the dresses.

Your voice didn’t come out as a thank you, but you walked back into the dressing room and closed the door behind you before saying anything to him. Leaning your back against the cold wood and trying to normalize your heartbeat. Why did he have to say that as if nothing was happening?

In the time that followed, you tried to focus your attention on the other dresses and how the colors Josie had chosen were flattering to your skin tone and the color of your eyes. You felt more and more beautiful in each piece that slid over your body, the reflection in the mirror pleasing you more and more, making it practically impossible to choose a single piece that you could definitely choose. Going to the last dress, then, you decided to take off the one you were wearing and slide the fabric over your body.

Another silk, this time a little thinner, but not enough to be transparent. This one could have been designed for you because Josie knew you didn't want anything so flashy. You smiled to yourself after putting on the dress, turning your back to do up the zipper that was the only lock on the piece.

“Shit,” you grumbled when you saw it get stuck right at the beginning. “No, no, no…” despair began to take over your body. You couldn’t take off that dress or pull up the zipper and risk ripping something so expensive. Your mind raced to call the saleswoman quickly. She would be the only one who could help you with that zipper and would even be a good company to give advice to others who had doubts.

So yes, that’s what you would do. Holding the front of the dress with the straps hanging loosely on your shoulders, you walked to the door and unlocked it. Only sticking your head out and looking for the saleswoman. Not a soul passed by that hallway and you started to get a little scared because the only sound was footsteps coming from downstairs, where people were walking back and forth through the store.

The only sound that took you away from your thoughts of taking off your dress and giving up on trying it on was the click of the lock on the door in front of you. Jake had messy hair, adjusting his fly and the first four buttons of his white shirt open.

“Y/n?” he called you, finishing closing the zipper and running a hand through his hair to try to fix it a little. “I heard your door opening and I thought you were leaving, but— Are you okay?” he looked at you as soon as he stopped talking.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, admiring how handsome he looked even in that sloppy and unkempt way. You imagined how clumsy Jake was with formal and elegant clothes, especially since you were the one helping him with the tie knots since you had to learn because of Heeseung and your father.

“I think…” you sighed, not wanting to say it out loud. He almost scolded himself for knowing you so well and knowing that something was wrong, so he walked the few steps from his door to yours, stopping in front of you “I think my dress zipper got stuck.”

“Do you need help?” he asked. You nodded slowly and, without saying anything else, let him enter your dressing room and closed the door right after.

Jake could see how organized you were even with a larger amount of dresses than he had to try on pants and shirts. Everything was perfectly folded, some even already hanging on the hangers while the pants he tried on were on the floor and only the blazers were on the hanger because he couldn’t find a single one that he thought looked nice on him.

“Okay, what do I need to do?” he turned towards you, noticing the way you were holding the front of your dress for dear life.

“Can you try to pull up the zipper? Otherwise, we can call the saleswoman” you turned your back to him and Jake had to hold his breath a little. The amount of skin was too much for him to see, even though it wasn't an unfamiliar sight for him. But after so long having this kind of contact was something Jake wasn't expecting.

“Okay, okay,” he said more to himself, walking towards you when you threw all your hair to the side, leaving your back completely bare to him.

Jake’s fingers trembled uselessly when the tip of his index finger and thumb touched the zipper. Nothing more than that, because he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

“It’s not going to happen,” he said after forcing it a little, the zipper not moving.

“Try again, please” you asked. “This dress is perfect and I think your sister chose it because maybe it suits me better than the others.”

He didn’t want to admit that yes, that dress was perfect on you. Even if you weren’t dressed properly and you still had to close the zipper to see the final result, Jake didn’t need that to compliment you or find you beautiful in any outfit. Taking another step forward, Jake thought he could dare and listen to his instincts, or he simply wouldn’t have a chance of doing that anymore. So he muted any other voice in his head and listened only to what his heart was telling him to do. With his free hand, Jake grabbed your waist under the thin fabric of your dress. He had touched your skin before under some silk that you had worn during the years of your relationship, but nothing compared to the dress you were wearing now.

You tried to hold back any sound that might come out of your mouth as his hand slowly squeezed your hip, while the other tried to pull up the zipper of your dress. Jake seemed focused on that action that bent over enough for his breath to hit the back of your neck. His eyes traveled up the length of your back and saw your skin crawl with that simple gesture.

So he still had some effect on you.

It was too much information for him to process. Jake affects your body, the closeness of the two of you, and the even heavier atmosphere between you after Stacy's arrival. It was too much for him to process. Jake could never do anything rational under pressure, so he knew it would have a drastic consequence, he wouldn't stop trying.

Turning your body and pressing it against his chest, you didn't have a chance to swear at him. There was not even time to speak a single syllable when Jake's lips quickly sought yours. It was like an act of returning home, where he already knew the way and only needed those few seconds to have his lips on yours.

If Jake was being irrational about the whole thing, you weren't going to be the only thinking person or get in the way of what was happening. Part of you wanted it, although the other part of you disagreed with having the tip of Jake's tongue poking at your lower lip. With a low moan, you gave way and that was all he needed. To tangle his tongue in yours, to taste you in his mouth again while his hands ran down your hips and gripped your body as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it did because to go a whole time like that without feeling his lips, without sliding your teeth across his bottom lip or having your hands wrapped in his hair. Your body pressed against his while you moaned low against his mouth every time the kiss intensified. Jake missed that as much as you did. And seeing how intensely you were giving yourself to him was more than an answer to what he needed.

Walking towards the nearest table, careful not to ruin his clothes on the way, Jake leaned you against the wood without interrupting the kiss in the process. He didn't want to pull his mouth away from yours and even though you both needed air, he wanted to be able to breathe the air from your mouth if at all possible. His hands, still on your waist, slid all over your back, still uncovered by the fabric that wouldn't close at all. Thanks for the stuck zipper, he thought, running his hand up your spine until he tangled the fabric of the dress between his fingers.

Jake's mouth parted from yours just then, his forehead still pressed against yours and his eyes slowly opening to search for yours. A silent request as to whether he could go on with it or whether you were sorry and wanted him to leave the room.

Your hands found his and as if to help him, you pulled the loose fabric down your body, revealing your chest as all the silk bunched around your hips. His eyes shone brightly. Jake could tell it had all been worth it just from that sight. Your hands found his hair and he slid his lips down your neck as you spread your legs, beckoning him to snuggle in.

Jake ran his hands up the sides of your body, his thumbs finding your erect nipples and putting a fair amount of pressure there, just as his lips found your earlobe.

“Jake” you moaned his name, and that sound he missed so much. How slyly you used to moan his name.

“Yeah, baby?” he whispered against your skin, his hands gripping your breast a little more firmly before he released his lips from your neck and moved down to your collarbone.

Your voice gradually died away as Jake's mouth descended your skin in slow, wet kisses, his tongue tracing a teasing path down the middle of your breast. His breathing made a point of getting heavy with every line of saliva he left against your skin, the heat building there and intensifying between your legs.

“Fuck” you moaned as his tongue flicked across your nipple, the tip circling a few times before he took it all in his mouth. Sucking and making it even more sensitive with every warm touch of his tongue and the light scrape of his teeth on it. Jake's attention took turns on each of your breasts, leaving enough of a mark for you to remember him when you got dressed for the wedding a few days later. Or when you came home to take a shower, looking at your chest and the amount of hickeys he was leaving.

You arched your back and, with some difficulty, pulled the rest of your dress down to your feet to get rid of the fabric that was now bothering you so much. The amount of clothing was unbearable for you as Jake settled further between your legs, still sucking on your nipples.

“Jake, please” you practically begged him as he looked more and more hungry with his mouth on your nipple. Circling his tongue and letting go with a low, teasing pop, raising his face to meet yours.

“Do you want it as much as I do?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low, his lips red and shiny from the amount of saliva that had been smeared across your breast.

“I want it, very much” if he kept teasing you, you'd be pathetic enough to cry out for him and ask him to fuck you right there.

Fortunately Jake understood you so well and you knew he couldn't stand teasing you for so long, even more so with the hunger and thirst he'd been teasing and kissing you with minutes ago. He didn't want to waste any time, lifting his shirt over his head without bothering to remove the buttons, the zipper of his pants came down in seconds and he quickly removed the fabric along with his underwear. Jake didn't want to wait any longer.

He went back between your legs, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Caressing the soft skin he had felt for so long. Nostalgia washed over him with every touch, going down to your hips to grab the fabric of your panties, throwing them on the floor as quickly as he did his clothes.

“Y/n, we—” you kissed his lips, not letting him finish saying anything. You knew Jake would explain himself, say something to try and comfort you from what you'd felt for so long. But the heat of the moment demanded that he just be inside you. And that's what you did. Holding his cock and pumping slowly, you heard Jake moan against your lips, his brow furrowed as you rubbed the head of his cock against your pussy lips to gather the perfect amount of your juices.

Jake arched his hips against your hand, feeling his cock get wet with the union of your arousal and his pre-cum, without having to worry about preparing you or anything. It was also because of the rush you were both in to feel each other, but he wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you, and the way you were calmly taking it all in was driving Jake crazy.

“I don't want to hurt you” he whispered when you stopped teasing him and stopped rubbing the head of his cock all over your pussy. Jake's cock was already wet enough and you were already more than lubricated, he wasn't going to hurt you.

“You won't hurt me, I promise” you whispered with your lips close to his, without kissing him, waiting for Jake to take the next step between the two of you.

As if it were a communication just by looking, as soon as Jake leaned his forehead against yours, he understood that it had to be done. So you thrust your hips slowly, feeling your entrance suck the head of his cock. Just the tip penetrating you was enough to make you moan, pressing your lips against Jake's and bending your body over the table. He wrapped his arms around you, gripping your body between his arms, afraid that you would run away at that moment. Afraid that everything you were both experiencing would be thrown away and that maybe it was Jake's dream, where he dozed off in the fitting room opposite yours, idealizing what was happening.

But no, it was all real. He was slowly penetrating you, gripping your body between his arms and feeling your arms around his neck, as if you needed to steady yourself just by hugging him.

Reaching the bottom, with his cock completely inside you, Jake didn't let go of your embrace. He moved his hips slowly, withdrawing his cock and leaving just the tip inside you, only to return slowly and intensely until his cock was inside your pussy. The movement of your hips became constant, and the sound of the moans that the two of you shared in whispers gave the moment even more intensity. Jake was careful not to go too fast and hard because the way you squeezed his cock showed how sensitive your pussy was to receiving him back.

“You don't know…” Jake sucked a moan from your mouth, pressing his forehead to yours when a particularly intense movement hit you, making the head of his cock touch your spongy spot and your walls tighten around it. Jake could have sworn he was going to come right then and there, but he had to stop himself, he didn't want to finish yet “You don't know how much I've missed this… How much I've missed you.”

Your fingernails scratched Jake's shoulder blades, making the thrust forceful as his skin burned a little. You bit his lower lip, stopping yourself from moaning loudly so that the whole store could hear the two of you. Your legs wrapped even tighter around Jake's moving hips, giving him no room to pull away for even a second.

“I've missed you, Jake” your hips were now moving along with his, but slowly, while Jake was intensifying his thrusts, wanting you to feel every moment of his cock moving in and out of you. Withdrawing his cock slowly and putting it back in just as slowly, going hard only at the end so that the head of his cock touched your cervix or you felt every rise in your walls with his size “I've missed you so much.”

Jake could cum with the intensity of your gaze, your fucked-up expression, and how you moaned his name as you said those things. He knew that anything you did while he had his cock buried in you was a reason for him to come, and he didn't want to hold back any longer.

With a silent request, Jake kissed your lips and moved his hands down between your bodies in the small space you left between the two of you. His fingers soon found your clitoris and he circled it at the same speed as his cock moved in and out of you.

You could see stars with the double sensation, your body writhing between Jake's arms as his thrusts began to pick up speed. He was close to cumming and you weren't much different, you knew him well enough for that. You both knew each other's bodies that well.

“I need you to cum with me, please” Jake asked against your lips, his cock driving in a little harder, along with his fingers circling your clit a little faster.

Without the strength to say anything, you just agreed and continued to move your hips so that you were in sync with Jake and what he was doing. Your hands grabbed his hair, keeping Jake's mouth close enough to yours and catching his tongue between your lips. Sucking on his tongue with the same intensity as your pussy swallowed his cock was divine, Jake was losing count of how many times he came with this sensation. Being swallowed by your pussy and your mouth sucking his tongue just like you used to suck his cock.

He could hear you moaning his name in a muffled way, your lips around the tip of his tongue and your pussy swallowing more and more of him. A precise circle on your clit along with his cock moving in and out was enough to make the knot in your stomach burst. Your pussy convulsed, and your walls fluttered around his entire length, cumming all over Jake's cock. The heat of your pussy, the oozing of your cum, and the way you moaned his name over and over were too much for him to bear, and not a second later Jake's jets of hot, thick cum spurted into your pussy.

His thrusts became more and more erratic and sloppy as he still came inside your completely fucked pussy, pushing his cum that threatened to fall out of your hole by the amount he had cum in so long. You were still sensitive and the overstimulation wasn't bad, although you felt like crying at the way Jake still kept his cock in you, moving in and out until your pussy milked the last drop out of him.

Jake rested his hands on either side of your body, next to your hips on the table. With his cock still inside you and his body still between your legs. He opened his eyes slowly to find your face calm and serene, your expression a little more relaxed than before.

“Jake…” you whispered, not wanting him to pull away from you.

“Yes?” he said in the same tone, one of his hands coming up to push your hair out of your face. He shifted his gaze down your body, the sheen of the light layer of sweat forming against your skin, your hips still joined without the strength to separate. The skin of his chest covered by the marks of his mouth made him smile with satisfaction at his work.

“Can we stay like this for a few minutes?” your request made his heart race, even though it had been racing since the first second you two kissed in that fitting room.

“As long as you want” he moved a little closer, giving you a small kiss on the forehead before placing his forehead against yours. Not wanting to leave your side even after the post-orgasm sensation had passed.

The rest of the days passed like a blur, and not because you or Jake were avoiding each other after what happened. But because time got too short it seemed like more things were happening until the big day. You and he didn't seem to mind each other's presence while you had to sort things out, the tiredness of the final preparations giving way to each other's bodies while all you could think about was getting it over with.

You could breathe a sigh of relief after walking in with Jake at Josie and Heeseung's wedding, listening to the whole ceremony in silence and admiration. Smiling at the vows of the two newlyweds and holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Finally, it was over and you could proudly say that you had been a great godmother. That your brother and sister-in-law had been right to appoint you and Jake to that role.

Now, enjoying the post-wedding party was the only thing on your mind. The glass was freshly filled with booze for the fourth time, the empty hand resting on Susan's shoulder as she hugged Josie's waist, humming the song that was playing throughout the huge hall. This is what you three thought it would be like. Drunk, happy, and laughing as you remember how you met. The time you shared and how much your friendship meant to each other.

“Even though Y/n is my sister-in-law now” Josie swallowed a drunken sob, smiling as she pulled you into a hug with Susan “you two will always be my heart sisters.”

“Is that supposed to make us sentimental?” Susan asked.

“Is it working?” Josie retorted.

It might work because you all already had a fair amount of alcohol in your system, considering how long you'd been here after the ceremony. You still spent time with Heeseung, congratulating your brother and warning him to take good care of Josie. Although he was your brother, your brotherhood with her was strong enough for you to take her away from their house, which hadn't even been furnished yet. With Susan's help, the two of you would take Josie away without a second thought in case Heeseung did something to her. Even though you knew it would never happen.

After a few minutes of exchanging warm, sentimental words, laughing until your belly ached, and refilling your glasses, the three of you broke away from the hugs to go around the party in search of something different for the next few minutes before meeting up again. Josie would go after Heeseung or your mother because she wanted to talk to her new daughter-in-law. Susan would go after Sunghoon, for sure. She missed her boyfriend, who would probably be hanging around the party clutching Heeseung's tie and collecting funny nicknames for the newlywed. Your mind immediately wandered to Jake, thinking that you could go after him and just talk about what happened, maybe. But your feet were killing you enough that you didn't even consider the idea of going out, so you walked over to the nearest table to sit down.

“Can I join you?” your gaze lifted to the person in front of you, smiling when you noticed Haechan's presence.

“Sure, join me” he smiled back at you, taking off his blazer and putting it on the back of his chair before sitting down. You could tell by the lazy sound that came from his lips how exhausted he looked.

“Getting around with your brother and Sunghoon wasn't an easy task” he grumbled, his fingers lightly massaging his left temple as he looked around. Looking for one of his friends or even his girlfriend.

“Are they giving you much trouble?” you asked.

“Enough that Sunghoon and Jake made him almost undress three times” Haechan said, making you laugh.

“Hey, I didn't do anything like that!” the defense in Jake's voice took you by surprise, and both you and Haechan looked in the direction of the slowly approaching voice. At the beginning of the party, Jake looked impeccable. His hair, which he had let grow – because Josie had asked him to, wanting his brother to have an impeccable hairstyle for her wedding – had been slicked back with a little gel, and was now disheveled and messy. The first two buttons of his shirt were open and Jake's tie was completely loosened, but still around his neck. The typical scene of how relaxed he was, but not to the point of getting drunk like you were starting to.

“You'll have to fight with your sister if her husband gets naked in front of everyone” Haechan defended, having his train of thought interrupted by him making Jake laugh. The sound of laughter calmed every cell in your body.

You noticed that he was a little more relaxed, smiling at some of the things Haechan said to him while you switched off a little. Your focus was now on the heel you were trying to take off and how much your feet might scream if they could talk. Without much delay, you unbuckled your heels and took them off, leaving them in a corner under your chair.

“But seriously, this wedding is just the way you two wanted it, isn't it?” your attention returned to the two boys talking right in front of you. Jake slyly pulled out a chair to sit next to you and his gaze ran down to where you were futilely trying to massage your feet.

“In every detail” he smiled at Haechan “Heeseung tries to deny that it was all my sister's doing, but we know he wanted it that way too” seeing how much Jake knew your brother was very gratifying, to know that someone understood him as much as you did.

At some point in the conversation, you found yourself looking between the two of them as they talked about how nice it was to be friends with Heeseung. At the time in college when Haechan wanted to join the soccer team and almost didn't get accepted because he had missed the time to introduce himself to the boys. Jake had his full attention on him, listening to every word while his hands thought differently, running down your calf until they caught your ankle. Without saying a word to you and without looking in your direction, he picked up your foot and placed it on his lap. The fingers lightly squeezing the sole of your foot almost made you moan at how good it felt, how much you needed that silent massage from Jake.

“One relationship I also admire is the two of you” Haechan pointed at you and Jake. Your eyes quickly met his for a split second, Jake's fingers stopped just as Haechan smiled, and then he went back to massaging your feet.

“Why?” Jake asked for you, knowing that his concentration was on the pain that was leaving, and how his body was slightly tense from the question.

“Because even after you broke up, you two carried on as friends” Haechan sounded dreamy as he said that little bit of admiration, even if it wasn't true. That the image you and Jake passed on to your friends was false, because you and he weren't friends, you never were. The war footing you two were on was hell on earth and neither of you knew how you were surviving until the present moment “I don't know if I'd be able to be friends with Stacy if the two of us broke up.”

There was a brief pause when Haechan spotted one of his friends with two glasses in his hand. He asked for one, even though the guy wasn't a waiter, but he smiled and handed it to him, asking if you and Jake wanted one too. Denying it and thanking you both, Jake smiled at him and let Haechan take a good sip of his drink.

“How long have you and Stacy been together?” Jake asked, not knowing the origin or the reason for all this. Maybe it was to get away from the attention his friend had given to your relationship, but he just wanted to deflect it and do everything he could to keep you away from him.

“Since college” he replied, taking another sip of his drink “our relationship is a little crazy.”

Jake knew you were looking at him at that moment, he could feel the weight of your gaze almost smoking on the back of his neck while his gaze was on Haechan.

“Tell me about it, I never knew” Jake prodded.

You didn't know why he was doing it. Whether it was to torture you for talking about Stacy so freely in front of him or whether he wanted to talk to Haechan, who barely knew that you had almost broken his girlfriend's nose in college.

“Well, we started going out after a fraternity party, it wasn't anything serious at first” he shrugged, the unfinished drink in his glass now playing between his fingers and a small smile on his lips.

Haechan talked about his and Stacy's relationship carefully, as if the image she had made of herself to him was a version you had never met. But then your ears perked up a little more when he got to a particular moment in the story.

“Dude, I… Y/n, do you mind if I say that?” Haechan looked at you, noticing that the story was taking a turn that only boys could be interested in.

“Not at all” you tried to smile at him, almost grimacing at the way it had come out “I'm just focusing on my massage” you pointed downwards where Jake's hands were still occasionally squeezing your feet. He laughed and continued, looking at Jake this time.

“I went crazy when we started dating because Oliver talked about Stacy's fame and for the first few weeks I wanted to prove whether it was true or not.”

Stacy's fame in college was her cute lingerie, the famous – and hated by you – pink bow bra. It wasn't necessarily fame because she made a point of showing part of her bra with a tank top during training and it had even been proven by those who slept with her. It wouldn't be a fame if they already had proof.

“When I saw it, I made a point of… spicing up our relationship at the beginning, to prove that she wanted it and that it wasn't the same with everyone.”

“And how did you get her to prove it?” Jake asked Haechan.

“Oh, you know” he leaned back in his chair, stretching as much as he could and almost yawning, but he wasn't sleepy enough for that “I asked her to leave a bra in my closet on the day of the game.”

Jake was the first to make eye contact with you as if he'd expected that answer or any reaction to it. Your eyes sought his and, a few seconds later, you looked at Haechan.

“What day was that?” you asked “I mean… what game?”

“The last friendly we had against the University of the South” he looked nostalgic as he recalled one of the last games he'd played in a university shirt “I told her to leave it in my locker and then we'd celebrate under the shower, you know.”

You didn't know what it was like because you were disgusted to do anything in the university's men's locker room, but that didn't stop you from finding Jake and going home with him to celebrate. That's how you ended up in the locker room on that fateful day.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Haechan asked after a while. He was still talking to Jake about something you didn't even know you wanted to hear right now, your mind was racing. If Stacy had done that in Jake's locker, what story had she told Haechan to make him think he was the only one who had received a pink bow bra in his locker?

“Excuse me” you asked, taking your feet off Jake's lap so quickly that he didn't even have time to hold you or ask where you were going.

A lot of questions were running through your mind at that moment, for example, how Stacy was managing to cope with a lie that she maintained even after the encounter you two had? Even after you hit her and cursed at her even though she was dating Haechan after everything. While you maintained that Jake was the liar in all this, the big liar was there all along.

You didn't know what you were doing, but the next thing you knew, your feet were leading you in the direction where Stacy was. Near the bar and away from the many people at the party, she was chatting with Susan and Sunghoon as if she had been friends with them for years. Although you knew that your friend and her boyfriend were very polite, you didn't like the closeness she was trying to force.

“Hey, Y/n” Sunghoon was the first to see you coming, his smile showing the fangs that you heard Susan sigh almost all the time. He waved at you without a response, only to see you advance towards Stacy as soon as you got close enough.

“You slut!” your hands grabbed the fabric of her dress, almost tearing it with how hard you were squeezing.

“Let me go, you're hurting me” she whimpered, feeling your nails dig a little deeper into her skin as you gripped her dress even tighter.

“So you've been lying all this time, have you?” you pushed her away when you felt Susan's hands pulling at you, wanting to push you away from Stacy, but unable to put that much force into your actions. She was drunk enough not to be able to separate you as she normally did. Then she looked in Sunghoon's direction, searching for some kind of help.

“Lied about what?” she asked.

“Don’t play dumb!” you yelled, but your voice couldn’t be heard the way you wanted to by the people around you, only Stacy and Susan were able to hear how loud you were talking because of how close you were. “That day at the game, Jake’s locker. Tell the truth, you slut—”

Sometimes you had the slight impression that your brother arrived at the worst times, like in a suspenseful scene from your favorite series, or when you and your mother wanted to listen to the neighbors’ fights and Heeseung slammed the door right when one of them told you something very important. And like now, when you were about to live the nostalgic moment of punching Stacy right in the nose, but your brother’s hands were quick enough to grab you and pull you away from her.

“What’s going on?” he asked, standing between the two of you and facing you “Hey, sis, look at me.”

“Let me go or I’ll finish her off.”

“You’re not going anywhere” Heeseung said. His eyes searched for something behind you and when he found it, you didn’t even need to turn around to know that Sunghoon had gone after Jake and Josie.

“What’s going on here? Are you okay?” Josie asked as she looked at Heeseung and you, but when her eyes landed on Stacy, some of her sobriety returned. She knew that this could happen at the party and was already preparing for some argument between the two of you, she just didn’t know it would be practically halfway through the night.

“I… I was at the bar talking to Susan and Sunghoon when Y/n arrived and—”

“Oh, for God's sake, stop your shitty little act” you snapped, almost advancing on her if it weren’t for Heeseung’s strength still holding you in place. Your brother didn’t move an inch until Jake took his place, standing in front of you and holding you. On another occasion, you would be cursing him and not wanting Jake to touch you, but seeing him there at that moment seemed to make all the difference.

“Stacy, love, what’s going on here?” when she heard Haechan’s voice, Stacy seemed to freeze in place. She looked at him with wide eyes and rapid breathing, perhaps even more than before when the two of you almost argued.

She found herself between a rock and a hard place now, maintaining that lie was no longer hers and she knew that sooner or later it should have been said. Stacy just didn’t know why it had taken so long.

“I… I think I did something wrong and…” you couldn’t swallow her fake crying and the sobs that threatened to come out of the girl’s lips who, with the help of her boyfriend, took a step forward to tell the whole story to your friends.

Hearing all of that from the point of view of the one who had caused you the most pain only made your blood boil even more. You – and the entire campus – knew how much Stacy always bragged about getting with every guy she wanted, with only Heeseung and Sunghoon being the only ones under the radar, she wanted to be content with that. But when she found out that Jake, besides being on the soccer team, was coveted for dating the team captain's sister… Oh, she wanted him. It was impossible to get him, but she would do anything to try anything and get with Jake at least one thing. It was then that she had the brilliant idea of ​​replicating Haechan's wish.

The friendly match against the southern university was packed, with everyone on campus stopping to watch the match and cheer for the team. You and your friends weren't much different, wanting to see the boys and supporting them at all costs. Unfortunately, Stacy heard how lovingly you told Jake that you would wait for him after the game in the locker room to get his things and go home.

“Can you get my shirt from my locker? I left it open, you can wear it, it's for good luck in my game today. Then I want to take you out of here” his locker would be open, and fitting like a glove, Haechan's idea could serve Jake at that moment. Stacy would put her bra in his locker, let you think whatever you wanted and then she would go on with her life as if nothing had happened. She did that and took off the bra she was wearing to put in Haechan's locker, so she wouldn't waste time because she didn't know if you would throw the fabric away or if you would confront her. She found herself in the unfortunate decision of having the latter option two days later.

“You already got revenge on me for that day and I apologize to you.” Stacy felt her eyes burning, she was embarrassed for being caught and confronted at a wedding party she didn’t even know why she had gone to. She thought that not telling him she was Haechan’s girlfriend would be the best choice to see the faces of familiar people once again since no one had kept in touch with her besides her boyfriend.

“Did you get revenge on her? What did you do?” Jake looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, doubt in his expression, and his lips in a cute pout. If it weren’t for the current situation, you would have kissed him for sure.

“I didn’t do anything” you said softly, just so he could hear. But Stacy didn’t listen, so she kept talking.

“She hit me in the hallway of the north block a few days later” she sighed “Almost broke my nose.”

“What?” Sunghoon shouted in surprise “So our last fraternity party… The injury on your nose…”

“It wasn’t a cheerleader stunt” she continued.

A short silence fell between you all, only the music of the party and Stacy’s small sobs could be heard. You could notice how much Josie was trying to calm the situation and disperse the people so that everyone could enjoy the rest of the party.

Your gaze went up to Jake’s face and he was expressionless now. The astonishment that had taken over had given way to a neutral look, but it contained something that you couldn’t identify. Remorse? Fear? Anger?

“Jake…” you called him without knowing why you were doing that. He was still looking at you with the same expression, not even softening at the sound of your voice.

“Can we talk later?” he asked, his tone serious, but somehow trying to sound a little calm for your liking “I’ll take you home and then we can talk, okay?”

There was no way you could insist or say no, just accept it because you didn't even know why you wanted to talk to him at that moment. Everything had hit you like a blow, and just like you, Jake might need some time to cool down and talk to you at the end of the party.

Waving slowly, you watched him walk away as Haechan pulled Stacy away and the others walked through the party until it was just you and him left there. Or just you, as soon as Jake walked away and walked to the bar to get something to drink. So, you allowed yourself to release all the air you were holding, refusing to cry after reality hit your mind and heart.

You believed a lie for all that time. And there was no going back now.

Jake tried to loosen his grip on the steering wheel, but his firm grip on the leather showed how nervous he still was. Spending the rest of the party brooding over everything that had happened, in addition to seeing how shaken you were by it all, made him feel even worse. He thought he would be fine after you heard that he had never cheated on you, that you had believed a lie… But he didn't feel good. Jake seemed to feel even worse after seeing how bad you were.

That was why, when he guided you to the car to take you home after the party was over, he preferred to stay quiet and let you be quiet too. The whole drive was in complete silence, with the only sounds being the car engine and the city's movements in the early morning. Occasionally Jake would look in your direction to see if you had fallen asleep or if you were okay, checking on you or waiting for you to look at him too. The only time your eyes met his was when you pulled up to your apartment, Jake turning off the car engine as soon as he parked in the parking lot of your building.

He didn't have to ask if you wanted him to come with you, because you got out first and left the keys with him, as a silent request that he could go up with you. And Jake did just that. From the hallways of the building to the elevator, going to your floor in the most absolute silence. Maybe even more than when the two of you were inside the car.

He turned the keys when you both reached your door, letting you enter first and leading the way in the small darkness that formed inside your apartment. After locking the door, Jake took off his shoes and threw his blazer next to the hanger by the door to make himself a little more comfortable as he followed you to the kitchen still without saying a word.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Jake asked for the first time since the two of you left the party after the wedding. Your eyes followed his figure who was standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the wood as he looked in your direction.

“I think…” you sighed, looking around after Jake held your gaze. Feeling a little shy from the intensity with which he was looking at you “I’ll make some coffee and…”

“I’ll make the coffee” Jake interrupted you slowly “Go upstairs and put on something more comfortable” he tried to sound a little softer with you, but there was still a hint of seriousness in his voice that you recognized. A palpable tension that he finally had the whole truth exposed, he just didn’t know how to act after all.

You wouldn't deny it, especially since your feet were almost killing you from the pain from the moment you took off your heels in the middle of the party. You definitely wanted to take off that silk from your clothes, even though they were so comfortable that you danced all night without worrying. But at that moment, your body just needed other fabrics. So you quickly went to your room, passing by Jake without looking at him because you knew that if that happened, there would be no way to go back or simply remember to change your clothes.

As soon as you got to your room, the first thing you did was slide the dress down your body and leave it lying anywhere on the floor. The air blowing against your almost naked skin was a soothing balm for everything you had witnessed in the last few hours. When you got to the bathroom, looking at your appearance in the mirror, Jake's idea of ​​taking a shower didn't seem so bad after all. Turning on the shower and letting the water run wasn't a thought you were reluctant to do, it had to be done. Getting all the dirt, sweat, and exhaustion off your body, both for the fun and for the mix of sensations and how sore and tired you felt. The pain in your feet went away as you squeezed them – not as gently as Jake did – with the help of the soap and hot water. Everything goes down the drain minutes later: dirt, tiredness, and a bit of sadness.

Quickly drying yourself, you grabbed a pair of old sweatpants that belonged to Heeseung and that you never let him take possession of. They belonged to you since the day you put them on by mistake at your parent's house when you and he still lived there since then those pants became yours and no one would say otherwise. For the top, the only comfortable thing you could wear was a sports bra. Without the clinging fabric of a t-shirt on your torso, you wanted something breathable and that would make you feel freer, this was perfect.

“Time to take off my makeup” you muttered to yourself after you had finished changing properly, looking in the mirror to find your mascara slightly smudged and the red lipstick already coming off your lips. You remembered the tireless hours you spent with Josie and Susan at the beauty salon that same day, in the early hours of the morning. Not even thinking that you would have to take it off at the end of it all, ending up with a beautiful job, even though you felt like you couldn’t keep your makeup on for so long.

Taking the cotton and the makeup remover, you moistened the cute object to wipe your face and, before doing so, looked at your reflection once more. Something in your mind made you think of everything besides the time you had taken to put on your makeup and get ready for the wedding. That had been the makeup for your brother and sister-in-law’s most important day, but it was also with that makeup that you faced the biggest event of your life. With that mascara on your eyes, you were able to witness the lies that Stacy had told you for so long. It was with that lipstick on your lips that you cursed her, and with all that makeup on you stared at people and saw Jake's gaze on you all night. Without being able to decipher, what he was feeling.

Everything, at that moment, was a shock and you only realized that you were crying and looking at your reflection when your vision blurred and you heard Jake calling you in the background. His hurried steps through the room before Jake's figure stopped right at the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” the desperation in your tone, the look in Jake’s eyes as he turned you around, making you face him. This made you cry even more. Your mouth opened and closed to say something, but nothing came out, just silent sobs as you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “Hey… What happened?” he asked again.

“I just—” you sobbed again “I ruined everything.”

Jake’s hands found their way to your waist in a matter of seconds, bringing your body close to his in just enough space for him to tilt his face and be close to yours. Without saying a single word, he looked deep into your eyes, letting you shed as many tears as you thought necessary. His fingers held tightly to your skin and, with a small push, he picked you up and placed you sitting on the bathroom counter.

“Ruined what, exactly?” he asked, taking the cotton from your hand. Jake wet the makeup remover again and straightened up between your legs to take off your makeup for you. A few days ago, this position between the two of you yielded something beyond what was happening, and butterflies in your stomach hit you at the thought of it. But there he was, with the utmost sweetness and affection, carefully passing the cotton pad over the entire length of your face. Completely the opposite of what he had done to you last time.

“Us” you answered when Jake passed the cotton pad over one of your eyes, forcing you to close it so he could remove the mascara. You heard him sigh right in front of you, the air blowing against your face due to Jake’s proximity to you.

The silence that settled between you was strangely comfortable. Now and then your sobs could still be heard as you tried to normalize your breathing and stop crying. Jake was completely focused on wetting the cotton pads, removing your makeup, and making sure you were clean and comfortable enough. Once everything was over and he threw the rest of the things in the trash, he remained with his body still between your legs.

“You didn’t ruin us” he finally replied, his hands resting on your thighs instead of touching the marble of the bathroom sink. Jake’s fingers, although blocked by the sweatpants you were wearing, were a warm and comfortable touch. Something you missed and only realized the last time the two of you had a little more contact.

“Of course” your eyes burned again and your vision became blurry again. Jake’s figure in front of you was like a blur when you felt like you were going to cry again. “I spent all this time thinking that you—”

He knew what you would say, but he didn’t want to hear it out loud. It was a past completely behind him, one that Jake didn’t want to dig up and much less make you remember. So the only way for it to end was when he touched your lips with his. A soft kiss, placing his mouth on yours and slowly sliding the tip of his tongue along your lower lip. It didn't take long for your passage to be accepted, letting him guide the kiss while one of his hands came up to hold your face. He held you in his hands with such care, kissing you and making you feel every little touch.

That should have calmed you down, but it made you shed the tears that still insisted on appearing. Jake felt each one of them between the kiss you shared, each time softer and slower, the movement of your tongues in sync as he let you feel each small slide of his mouth against yours. When you both needed to compose yourself, Jake pulled his lips away from yours enough so that you could both breathe. Still keeping your mouths closed and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“You know what?” Jake said, still breathless and a little hoarse. You just murmured in agreement, letting him continue his train of thought “When we started dating, one of the first things Heeseung told me was that you were the most stubborn person I would ever meet in my life.”

“Really?” you opened your eyes in shock, staring at Jake who was still between your legs. His lips reddened and smiling at you.

“Really” he kissed your lips once more, his hand still on your face caressing your cheek and sliding his thumb to your lower lip “What happened in that locker room was shitty and I don’t blame you for feeling that way. I just…” he took a deep breath, his hands finding their place back on your waist. “I needed time until I made you listen to me. I would never rest until I knew I would never do that to you.”

It was your turn to pull Jake into a soft kiss, just to feel his mouth against yours again. The slow, calm slide of his mouth against yours before you pulled away.

“Do you forgive me for being so stubborn? For wasting our time?”

“I have nothing to forgive you for, baby” Jake took a few steps back, his mischievous smile making your heart race a little faster than usual. “By the way, I have something for you.”

“For me? What is it?” you asked.

“I’ll be right back” Without giving you a chance to answer, Jake ran out of the bathroom, leaving you still sitting on the sink counter. You decided to go downstairs and walk to your room, trying to think of what he could have for you. It couldn’t be coffee, because the cup he brought was resting on the nightstand on your side of the bed. Running to the bathroom while you were crying made him completely forget about the drink there, maybe it had even gone cold. You didn’t care, after all.

Jake’s footsteps were heard on the other side of the door and, before you could walk a little further and open it, he did it himself. One hand was hidden behind his back as he entered your room.

“What’s all this suspense, Jake Sim?” you raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical about all the mystery surrounding the two of you. Jake chuckled softly, walking slowly but nervously towards you until he stopped right in front of you.

“I bought this because I knew I could give it to you one day” he said softly, not quite a whisper, but his tone was still soft. Jake’s eyes were focused on every corner of your face, wanting to convey a little of everything the two of you had shared so far. Or at least try to understand a little of the emotion he felt after everything that had happened.

He pulled away until he showed you what he was holding and, as soon as you saw the only orchid he had between his fingers, you almost cried for the third time that night.

“Jake…”

“It was the flower of our relationship, I—” he held it out to you, letting you take it and smell it as you always did with every orchid he gave you over the years. The characteristic smile that showed you were truly surprised, but without a single word to express what you were feeling. While your free hand went to his face and caressed Jake's cheek, the skin against your fingers so soft “I bought it the day we went to see things for my sister. I thought I could give it to you at some point.”

“Did you think it would be soon?” you asked.

Jake took a step forward, getting close enough to be able to hug your body with his.

“I didn't think so, but I hoped it would be. I couldn't stand being away from you anymore with all these wrong and poorly explained things” he huffed, his forehead pressed against yours when Jake's head leaned forward to get even closer to your face. You allowed yourself to laugh for the first time since you had arrived home, holding the flower tightly in one hand, while the other still held Jake's face.

“So go take a shower, take off those wedding clothes, and stay with me in bed all night.”

“Just tonight?” Jake asked, pouting. Which didn't last long because you broke it with a quick kiss.

“As long as you want…”

“I think my whole life is perfect for me” he shrugged, kissing you once more before pulling away and quickly taking off his white shirt. Both because of the shower he was looking forward to taking and because of the lack of contact with you.

Jake wanted to make up for lost time and everything you two didn't experience because of the lies that surrounded you, him, and your relationship. A silent promise that, even if you were stubborn, you would never stop believing in him again.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[shuaflix]

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity

❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kim mingyu x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, rated m for mingyu, slow burn, he fell first but she fell harder but then he tripped and ate shit, probably the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written, mingyu and mc are both virgins, sexual content, sexual tension, protected and unprotected sex (i would not advise doing the latter), lots of teasing and banter, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, wall sex, couch sex, public sex, mingyu discovers what pasties are, soonyoung orders 20 connect fours, they are avid enjoyers of the barbie movies

SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn't), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).

PLAYLIST ▸ perfect by one direction • spell by niki • fatal flaw by ellise • give me a kiss by lolo zouaï • step? by bibi

WORD COUNT ▸ 31,273 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ someone (fia) once told me i write too many college aus. i said yeah ur right. and i’m gonna do it again

“BIRDS AND BEES CANNOT PHYSICALLY FUCK.”

You sounded more distressed than informative while you were trying to reason with your longtime best friend, Kim Mingyu. He, on the other hand, appeared visibly worked up over this childish level of argument you two were having.

“It is a metaphor,” he said. “Everyone knows birds and bees aren’t screwing each other up in the trees.”

You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hours ago, you had fucked yourself over after Kwon Soonyoung had casually brought up the topic of body counts. After everyone in your friend group went around listing theirs (Soonyoung: 3; Jungwoo: 3; Minghao: 2; Vernon: 5), you accidentally blurted out that your body count actually existed—one, to be exact.

This was a problem because, to everyone’s prior knowledge, you were a virgin.

Sure, you kissed a few guys before—maybe had a few heated makeout sessions—but you never really went all the way. Yeah, Mark Lee was coming onto you freshman year, but before he could start sliding his hand down your pants, you nearly screamed and killed the vibe. It was safe to say that Mark never thought about trying to get with you again.

After being barraged with questions about who finally claimed your v-card, you decided to blurt out the one name that felt the safest to you.

And that was Kim Mingyu.

Now, you and Mingyu had been friends for a long time, dating back to your freshman year of college when he wound up being your dorm neighbor. After about a month of Mingyu only knocking on your door to use your printer or air fryer, your relationship finally upgraded to having semi-deep conversations and going to the dining hall together. Eventually, Kim Mingyu became a staple in your life—or perhaps more like a pesky gnat you couldn’t get rid of.

Either way, since you figured that Mingyu was equally as sexually inexperienced as you were, you felt as though your safest bet was to keep your secret with him. This way, the both of you could finally not be labeled as the friend group’s token virgins.

To make matters worse, though, you didn’t expect your friends to have such a dramatic reaction to the news. They were convinced that you and Mingyu were going at it every night. In reality, he was only coming over to your apartment at the dead of night because his fridge had been broken since September. You made a pact with him that you two would take turns cooking every other day, and today was his turn.

(You secretly looked forward to the days when he would cook. Mingyu’s culinary skills were surprisingly top-notch. You were pretty sure his flavor palate was 250% more refined than the average human, considering he could tell apart regular butter from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.)

So, while Mingyu was frying salmon, you were bombarding him with questions about sex. After all, if you were now living your life as a self-proclaimed non-virgin, then you had to educate yourself on the birds and the bees.

That was where the argument arose because what the fuck did the birds and the bees have to do with anything?

“So why do they use the birds and the bees?” you asked. “Why don’t they use, like, the butterflies and the bees? You know, pollination? I feel like that makes more sense.”

“It’s ‘cause birds hatch eggs, which is supposed to symbolize, like, female ovulation,” Mingyu explained, “and bees pollinating flowers is for male fertilization.”

You leaned back in your seat, absolutely mind-blown. Mingyu took your silence as understanding and turned on you, pointing his large cooking tongs in your direction.

“You’re way too innocent to be telling everyone we slept together,” he said. “I’d start watching porn or something, ‘cause asking me about the symbolism of the birds and bees isn’t gonna cut it. That’s middle school behavior, Y/N.”

Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment. “I’m not innocent! I know how sex works; I just don’t understand how you like… you know, do the deed.”

Mingyu snorted. “You can’t even say it properly!”

“Can to!” you fired back before folding your arms across your chest. “I just choose not to because of my Miranda Rights. You know, my right to remain silent and all that.”

“I don’t think that applies here.”

“It can.”

“Yeah, okay. But not when Soonyoung asked about your body count?”

“You’re not still upset about me telling the group we slept together, right? I swear it was a total—”

“Of course I’m upset, Y/N,” he interjected. “I wanted my first time to be my first time, and you just told everyone we fucked like it was nothing.”

Yeah, it was safe to say that the tension between you and Mingyu had been growing for a while. You two still hung out as usual, but he would sometimes drop passive-aggressive comments about your fuck-up that would make you feel miserable for the rest of the day. There wasn’t anything you could do but apologize, especially when Mingyu insisted that you two keep up the farce so that your friends wouldn’t get on your back for being a liar.

You could tell he cared—deep, deep down—about how this would affect you. Honestly, he was too good for you.

“Anyway, we can’t do anything about it now, so let’s drop it.” He sighed, and the only sounds you could hear for a moment were the fan running and the salmon sizzling on the pan. You waited until Mingyu started plating the food. “Dinner’s ready.”

For a few minutes, you two ate in utter silence. The only sounds in the room were the occasional scraping noises of fork against plate.

Mingyu decided to speak up. “I submitted one of the pictures I took to an art gallery.”

“Oh, really? The sunset ones you took when you went camping with Jungwoo?” you asked.

“Yeah, a few of the ones I developed looked really good, so he suggested I try sending them in. They haven’t reached out yet, but I’m hoping they put it up for their exhibition.”

“That’s sick. I’ll go see it with you if they put your work up.”

You two relapsed into silence after Mingyu hummed appreciatively. He was back to chewing his thoughts away while you wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

“I fucked up, Gyu,�� you admitted. “I really fucked up. I’m sorry.”

He smiled one of those lopsided, easygoing grins that could put anyone at ease. Yet, you still felt disheartened that he knew exactly what you were referring to.

“It’s whatever. At least you saved us from being asked if we’re still virgins.”

“I feel like I’m living a lie,” you grumbled. “It’s been eating at me for the past week. I might just fess up to Soonyoung.”

“You do know he’s gonna get mad at you for lying about something so petty.”

“But it’s even worse if he finds out later on!”

Mingyu just hummed in response, brows knitted together like he was pondering over something.

“Yeah, I guess,” was all he said, ending the discourse as he set your plate of food down in front of you on the dining table. You poked at the delectable salmon with your fork. “Don’t worry about what Soonyoung thinks. Sex isn’t something you can just jump into if you’re not ready.”

“But I am ready,” you complained between mouthfuls of food. “Every time I’m in the mood, I get so close and then chicken out. Maybe I’m just not doing it with the right person.”

“That would also be an important factor.”

You shook your head to dismiss the topic. “Whatever. Maybe they won’t bother us about it now that they think the deed’s done.”

“Maybe,” Mingyu echoed, although clear uncertainty hung in those syllables.

Once, in high school, you lied to your P.E. teacher about being on your period so that you wouldn’t have to participate in swimming for a week. On another occasion, you lied to your parents about going to your friend’s house to work on a group project so that you could actually drink alcohol for the first time.

Lying to Kwon Soonyoung was a whole other realm of difficulty.

It had been less than a day since you and Mingyu brushed off your lie that blew out of proportion. You were stupid to think that it wouldn’t haunt you further because Minghao wore a simpering smile on his face as soon as he saw you and Mingyu walk into the library together.

As soon as you two took your seats at your friend group’s respective table, Soonyoung and Jungwoo immediately started hounding you with more questions. Mingyu was clearly irritated—whether that was because he didn’t want the topic brought up again or he didn’t appreciate Soonyoung getting distracted from their little app developing session, you had no idea. They must have been excited now that they had both of their targets to harass.

“You are never willing to put out,” your bewildered friend rambled, “and you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here.”

“Wow,” Mingyu spoke up. “That was, like, the worst possible way to phrase that.”

You frowned. “Dick repellent?”

“C’mon, everyone here knows about the whole Mark-gate incident.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, whatever went down between Mingyu and I just… happened. I have nothing else to say on the matter.”

“You know what just happens?” Vernon Chwe, who normally kept his two cents to himself, decided to blurt out. “Losing your passport. That’s the kind of thing that just happens.” The sour tone his voice took on indicated that he was still bitter about showing up at the airport with Boo Seungkwan for his Italy trip last summer without his passport. “But sex? That doesn’t just happen. It’s a process.”

“Unless you were under the influence,” Minghao added. Then, he turned to you and Mingyu with curious eyes. “Were you drunk? High? Coked out?”

Obviously, you and Mingyu weren’t smart enough to cover all the bases of your lie, so neither of you planned out a story beforehand. Taken by surprise, he ended up stuttering, “N-no?”

“So it didn’t just happen,” Jungwoo said with a grin. “You two knew what you were doing.”

“I think you guys are making this way deeper than it actually is,” you replied. “We were just horny and things ended up going that way. That’s all there is to it.”

Minghao snickered. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

“Well, you should,” you started, voice rising along with your temper, “because Mingyu’s hot, and it’s perfectly normal for a young woman to want to have sex with someone who looks like a walking wet dream!”

Your table fell silent, and you suddenly wished you had dramatically stormed away after your (loud) confession. There was nothing subtle about the judgment and concern in everyone’s eyes, but most importantly, you were horrified to see Mingyu’s equally horrified reaction to your outburst.

“Walking wet dream,” Soonyoung parroted in a quieter voice, amusement tugging at his lips. “I’m gonna make that his contact name now.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “Well, I guess it checks out. Mingyu did say he found Y/N cute for a while.”

Your cheeks burned. He found you cute?

Mingyu, who was now blushing tomato red, covered his face with his hands and groaned. If you weren’t so mortified about embarrassing yourself and Mingyu in front of your entire friend group earlier, then you might have found him a little adorable.

So, you fucked up. Again.

You played out your conversation with your friends about five different times, thinking of various outcomes that could have taken place instead. If you didn’t blurt out the first thing that came to your head on impulse, then maybe you wouldn’t have dug a deeper hole for yourself.

Plus, you had to deal with Mingyu now.

Jungwoo’s words kept parroting in your head like a broken record. Cute. What did that mean, anyway? Squirrels were cute, and you were hoping you had enough sex appeal to not be put on the same tier as squirrels.

Of course, you ended up leaving the library after mumbling some excuse about having to attend a professor’s office hours. Although that was a complete lie, your friends seemed to buy it. You thought you were off the hook until you received a text from your friend.

mingyu: can we talk later?

You didn’t know what to think. If this lie of yours ended up breaking your friendship with Mingyu for good, you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to forgive yourself. So, you settled for curling up on your couch and spooning ice cream into your mouth until the pain subsided.

It was nearly midnight when the knock came at your door.

When you opened it, the very man you didn’t want to see was standing big and tall. You were tempted to close the door on Mingyu, but there was no point in pushing him away even more.

“I forgot to reply to your text,” you said.

“I know.” Mingyu looked you up and down, which you couldn’t help but blush at, but you figured he was just eyeing your Hello Kitty pajamas. “Can I come in?”

You opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside. “Are you here to yell at me?”

“No, although I should after what you pulled,” he teased, and you were grateful that he sounded lighthearted again. The tension was still thick, though, and you were certain it was because of the indirect confessions of attraction you both let slip. “I’m here to make a proposal.”

“What is it?”

Mingyu shrugged off his jacket, revealing his toned, muscular arms. You wondered just how much work he put into bulking up at the gym, and then your thoughts started to drift elsewhere. Thinking about how buff his chest was, thinking about how broad his shoulders were, thinking about how—

“A solution to both of our problems,” Mingyu interrupted your thoughts as he took a seat on your couch. He pointed at the bowl of ice cream you left on a cushion. “Is this cookies and cream?”

“Yeah, you can have some.” You took a seat next to him and inquired, “So… explain.”

“Okay, uh, well…” He trailed off, trying some of the ice cream after fiddling with the spoon for minutes. “Hey, this is really good ice cream.”

You gently pushed his spoon down before he could scoop more into his mouth. “Gyu, get to the point already.”

“I never noticed your coffee table was such a nice shade of brown.”

“Mingyu.”

“Could this be mahogany?”

“Mingyu.”

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, turning his head down ever-so-slightly. You were a little terrified that he was going to go on a spiel about ending the friendship, but then he said, “We’re both in predicaments. Our friends won’t leave us alone about the sex thing and you’re still heated about being a virgin. I mean, I’m also tired of my partner being my right hand, so like…”

Oh god. Mingyu was going to ask you to have sex. Kim Mingyu was about to get in your pants right now.

And were you against it? Not at all. The only thing that worried you was that you weren’t sure if you were ready—for sex and potentially blurring the lines of friendship between you and Mingyu.

“So, what are you getting at?” you asked, trying to play off your unnaturally high-pitched voice with a cough.

“Well, after that uncomfortable conversation earlier, I was just thinking… I clearly find you attractive and you find me attractive,” he said, and when he ducked his head a little, you could see the tips of his ears flaming red. “I’m saying I’m down for you to be my first.”

You willed yourself not to stammer over your words as you said, “I thought you wanted your first time to be special.”

“I do,” he mumbled. “That’s why I started thinking about it seriously after you called me a—”

“You don’t have to repeat it,” you cut him off quickly, your face feeling hot again. “But yeah, I’ve always thought you were hot—um, objectively. I didn’t think you thought the same about me, though.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied shyly, “but I also know you’ve tried to have sex multiple times and back out whenever you get close.” Before you could respond, Mingyu pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and set it down between you two. “That’s why I made this.”

You eyed the paper curiously, glancing at Mingyu for his approval to go ahead and open it. When he gestured for you to do so, you picked it up and unfolded it.

(EX) VIRGIN CONTRACT

Both parties may request whatever they want to try

Either party may approve or deny the other’s request

The contract ends at either party’s request

The friendship must not be ruined, and if the friendship is ever in danger of being ruined, the contract will be terminated.

“I figured it would be less intimidating with you since we both have no idea what’s going on,” Mingyu continued. “This way we can explore whatever we want without judgment.”

(Mingyu would never admit it to you, but part of him was eager to see you underneath him with that shy expression of yours melting away into pure, unadulterated lust. And you would never admit that you wouldn’t exactly hate that.)

“I’m not gonna lie,” you started, “I think we would be bullied even more for this.”

“That’s the unspoken rule number five,” he explained. “We keep whatever this is between ourselves. I know you struggle in that area, but—”

“Oh, shut up.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you set the paper down. “I don’t know…”

“Take your time to think it over.”

“Actually, I’ve made up my mind. Let’s do it.”

Mingyu did a double take, his features curiously pulling together. “Um, I meant that you could take a few days. Not milliseconds.”

There was a reason as to why you caved quickly. Your thoughts had been running at a billion miles per hour for the entirety of your conversation with Mingyu. You were confident that your decision was well-calculated.

Did you want to fuck Mingyu? Yes.

Were you terrified of possibly ruining your friendship? Absolutely.

However, considering the conversation had already happened, the course of your friendship had drastically changed already. The only thing even more potentially damaging than bringing physical intimacy into the relationship was rejecting this offer. If you turned Mingyu down now, your interactions with him would soon fizzle into awkward, cordial small talk.

“Hey, I think it’d be fun,” you decided to say instead of giving him the rundown of your internal crisis.

“Really? You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t agree to it if I wasn’t. I mean, it’s a big proposal.”

He gave you one of his lopsided smiles. “Right. I didn’t wanna rush into it or anything, but I think we should talk about it more when you’re ready.” Mingyu picked up the remote and handed it to you. “So, wanna get back to our Barbie marathon? We’re on Fairytopia, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, taking the remote from him with a touch of disappointment settling into your bones. Part of you was hoping he would get to it right away. “Yeah, we can talk about it later.”

You two did not talk about it.

It had been approximately six days and Mingyu had not reached out once about your contract. You were starting to think that you should have added some sort of clause about response time because the silence was killing you.

The next time you saw him was at a Kappa Sigma party. Soonyoung and Jungwoo always extended an invite to you, which was nice because that meant you could walk right in without being checked out and approved by some frat brother. You would normally drag Shin Ryujin along with you, but she insisted that she wouldn’t be able to wake up for her midterm if she went out to drink. Thus, you figured you wouldn’t show up, but after seeing Mingyu in the background of Minghao’s Snapchat story (which was a video of Vernon snorting a line off some girl’s stomach), you got your ass out of bed and threw your sluttiest top on.

Thirty minutes later, there you were, listening to Lee Chan ramble inside of the Kappa Sigma house. Ten feet from your target: Kim Mingyu.

“I got scammed, Y/N,” the frat brother, who was deep in five beers and four vodka shots, ranted to you while occasionally slurring his words. “Soonyoung ropes me into joining for friends, but I already knew all the people in the frat, anyway!” He paused to take another swig of his beer. “Zero benefits! Zero!”

Although you enjoyed Chan’s company, you were really trying to get Mingyu’s attention. Since walking in and waiting for him to approach you didn’t work, you were going to have to march up to him directly. Unfortunately, the drunk freshman in front of you was not helping one bit.

“That blows,” you replied sympathetically, “but at least you get to party, and you don’t have to worry about finding housing.”

Chan scoffed. “Yeah, if I’m not a sober monitor, then I just get alcohol poisoning. I can never win.”

For the next thirty minutes, you ended up listening to Chan drone on about how the world was against him. Eventually, he started to realize that he didn’t have it all that bad, and then he passed out after you helped him to the couch. You gave up on trying to get Mingyu’s attention; all of your attempts had been in vain, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

After talking to Vernon briefly, though, you found the opportunity to strike. Jungwoo announced a game of rage cage, so you were going to expertly place yourself next to Mingyu. Since everyone else would be focused on the game, you would use that chance to invite him to talk privately later.

Your plan was going smoothly until you stood next to Mingyu and realized he was a shot away from blacking out.

“You look like you’ve been through the trenches and back,” you said.

“Can’t tell where the floor is.”

“Under your feet.”

“Wow, you’re right.”

He was most definitely not in the right headspace to have a conversation about the contract—or to have any conversation, really.

“I’ve been wondering if you’d show up,” he continued. “I wanted to see you.”

Curse your heart for fluttering pathetically.

“You did?” you asked.

There was no time for Mingyu to respond because everyone around the table started screaming at you. When you turned your attention back to the game, you realized the red solo cup was in front of you and Vernon was about to stack you.

“Careful, Y/N, Vernon’s been on a roll,” Minghao taunted, eyes lit up with amusement as he watched you fumble with the ping pong ball.

“I have,” Vernon confirmed. From across the table, he smirked at Joshua Hong, who you figured was his victim from the last game.  

Your lips curled up in a lazy grin. “Yeah? Let’s see if you can stack me even once.”

So, you lost. Miserably.

Vernon was on a roll, and you formally apologized for ever doubting him. (You apologized after getting stacked for a third time, but Vernon didn’t ease up on you. He was a ruthless killing machine.)

On top of the six times you got stacked, you also ended up being the unfortunate bitch cup receiver. You downed it without too many complaints; you were past the point of scowling through your drinks. It would have been less pathetic if you hadn’t talked yourself up so much.

On the bright side, you and Mingyu had gotten so drunk that Soonyoung ushered you two into his room to sober up. Since Chan had already thrown up on the couch, your friend decided that it was better to make sure you were in close proximity to a toilet.

Soonyoung instructed, “Remember, if you feel like throwing up, make sure you go to the—oh my god, Chan, keep your clothes on!”

He groaned and slammed the door shut so that he could chase after his intoxicated friend. You were just thankful that you weren’t that drunk. The room was starting to spin, however, so you were dreading waking up with a headache in the morning.

“You were terrible today,” Mingyu mumbled. His shoulder brushed against yours, and you ended up leaning against him. “But I’m glad you sucked ass.”

Your lips curled in distaste. “What the hell?”

“I only got stacked once thanks to your god-awful performance.” He let his head hang so that he could suck in a sharp breath. “Wow, I feel like shit.”

“You’re such a bitch,” you complained. “I was gonna ask you something serious, too!”

“Oh, really? What is it?”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you now!”

You almost stammered at the end of your sentence when you saw Mingyu’s puppy eyes on full display. Despite the pleading look on his face, you couldn’t help but notice the way the stray rays of sunlight that poured into Soonyoung’s room were catching onto Mingyu’s honeyed skin. It made his dark brown eyes look like melted amber.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making you feel hot or if the humidity was created by the drunk college students packed into the house like sardines, but Soonyoung’s room felt balmy. Your shirt clung to the sweat beading your back, but all you could think about was how close you and Mingyu were.

It seemed as though he was thinking the same thing. “We should open a window or something.”

“It’s so hot,” you whined. “Feels like a sauna in here.”

“I know. Soonyoung never opens the windows, even though there’s no air conditioning in here.”

“He should invest in a fan.”

“Yeah, that’s why I like your place. You have a nice cooling system.”

You laughed. Mostly because you had very different intentions for this conversation, and here Mingyu was, talking about your air conditioning.

You were sobering up, but you still felt drunk off Mingyu’s attention.

Like he was sharing a secret, your best friend leaned in close to your ear while trying to suppress a giggle. “Should we get out of here?”

“And go where?”

“Your place. Duh.”

“I don’t know if I can even walk downstairs,” you mumbled, suddenly afraid that he was going to think you were a bore.

“I can,” Mingyu said, and before you knew it, he was kneeling down with his back facing you and his arms reaching back. You just stared at him for a moment before he shot you back a questioning look. “What’re you waiting for? Get on.”

You sort of let your body fall against his, but Mingyu helped you regain your balance almost immediately. He gripped your thighs firmly while you looped your arms around his neck. When he stood up, you almost gasped upon realizing how high up you were. It was in that moment when you were suddenly hyper-aware of how massive he was, how strong his back muscles were, and—

He yelped. “Bug!”

—how this man was terrified of everything under the sun.

If you had Mingyu’s height, you wouldn’t let anything stop you. But here he was, cowering even as he towered over the tiny spider that was crawling across the floor.

“You have got to be kidding,” you deadpanned. “You can so easily step over it.”

“They jump.”

“Name one instance where a spider’s ever jumped on you.”

He stiffened. “Uh, never. But that’s because I avoid them at all costs.”

Eventually, with some persuasion and promises of ice cream at home, Mingyu did manage to step over the beast, which was a common house spider. Kim Mingyu struck gold in the gene pool lottery. It was only fair that he had some stupid-sounding fatal flaw.

You whispered instructions on how to sneak past the crowd and giggled into his ear while he tried to creep downstairs and walk out the front door. Thankfully, the house was so packed that hardly anyone noticed you and Mingyu leaving. Only a few guys outside greeted him, but they were simultaneously puking their guts out.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to the party?” you asked as your chin rested on his shoulder. You were genuinely curious because Mingyu always invited you if there was a party. “I only found out when I saw Minghao’s story.”

“Uh… I was about to text you, but then Soonyoung wouldn’t shut up with the teasing and I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable if you showed up,” he admitted, and, from where you were, you could see the tip of his ear turning pink. “But I was hoping you’d come on your own.”

You tightened your grip on him. “I wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable.”

There was silence for a while between you two, and you felt like the balmy night air was thick with undiscussed feelings. A topic that you and Mingyu were mindful about skirting around, even when the aftereffects of liquid confidence still coursed through your blood. You could hardly even realize it yourself.

Your chin rested on his shoulder. Mingyu had given you piggyback rides before—back when you two were freshmen and still a little shy around each other. The first time was when you ended up twisting your ankle during a Halloweekend party, resulting in Mingyu offering to carry you back to your dorm. You hadn’t had many guy friends before college, so the thought of casual physical contact with a man was strange to you back then.

Everything slowly started to feel natural between you and Mingyu. Now, it was as if someone took a hammer and smashed your perception to pieces. The air was suddenly stifling and you were overly-conscious about how Mingyu’s chest swelled whenever you adjusted your hold on him.

He set you down once he reached the front door of your building. You had mostly sobered up by now, though you were certain you would lose your footing if you took the stairs instead of the elevator.

By the time you two had reached your door, you were already going off on some tangent about how you technically had more sexual experience than Mingyu, despite your total confusion over the actual mechanics of intercourse.

He kicked off his shoes before walking into your living room. “I think you’re underestimating me. Just because I’m saving my first time doesn’t mean I have zero experience whatsoever.”

“Saving it for me,” you teased.

“God,” Mingyu hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if your words were truly headache-inducing (but it was mostly to hide his blush). “I never should’ve told you that.”

“Hey, you can’t take it back now.” A giggle bubbled from your lips. “You think I’m cute.”

“I didn’t say cute.”

“I’m repeating exactly what Jungwoo told me.”

“No, he downplayed it for you. I told him”—Mingyu had turned to you fully, placing his hands on your shoulders and letting them slide down to your forearms—“that you’re…” It was as if he snapped out of some sort of trance, shaking his head to stop himself from rambling. “Never mind. Forget what I said.”

“What?!” you exclaimed, pushing at his chest. Hard. “You can’t just say that and back out!”

He winced, shooting you those puppy dog eyes that always made you melt. “I’ll tell you one day.”

“And that day better be today, ‘cause—”

“One day,” he repeated. “It’s too late now. We have a busy day tomorrow.” Mingyu squeezed your forearms gently before letting go and fishing out his phone and keys from his pockets. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Whoa, hold on. What do we have tomorrow?”

The corner of his lip raised in amusement, nearly going unnoticed. “We have that contract to get to, don’t we?”

Obviously, you weren’t able to get any sleep when Mingyu’s words kept sending butterflies to your stomach.

It took an hour of tossing and turning for you to finally get some sleep. That smirk of his kept replaying in your head, flashing behind your eyes over and over again until you forced yourself to blink the image away.

When you woke up in the morning, it was because Mingyu gently tapped your shoulder until you stirred. Since it was a Saturday, you were hoping to sleep in, although the sunlight making Mingyu’s tanned skin glow under its rays was a pleasant sight to wake to.

He grinned, flashing his brilliant white teeth. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” You yawned. “Was the couch comfy?”

“Yeah, I fucking love your couch,” he said, “but it did get a little lonely out there.”

Your chest seized for a moment. Was that an invitation? Or was he suggesting that you could have joined him? Not to mention you could detect the faintest trace of longing in his eyes.

It was too early in the morning for you to think straight, though, so all you could do was that breathy laugh of yours—the one that always sounded frazzled and nervous. Laugh and change the topic.

“So, why’re you up so early?”

“I gotta meet up with Jeonghan real quick, but I’ll drop by later,” he explained. “Forgot I agreed to go to the gym today.”

You remembered Jeonghan—the cute senior from Kappa Sigma that always brought a different girl to their parties. You had spoken to him once or twice after Soonyoung introduced you. It was all small talk, though, nothing of significance. The only distinct memory you had of Jeonghan was how Soonyoung sent him home in an Uber during one party he was blacking out at last year only for Jeonghan to take that Uber right back to the party.

“Alright,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. “You can take the spare key.”

“Say less.”

After Mingyu left and you stretched in your bed for a while, your phone went off with several texts from Minghao. Some of them were from last night, but you had passed out by the time he started sending them.

hao: dude where are you hao: AND WHERE’S MINGYU hao: we’re about to uber back soon hao: soonyoung said he left u guys in his room and now ur both missing?? hao: wait jk i forgot i have ur locations hao: BRUH hao: oh my god hao: u gmfu hao: psa i will be extremely annoying until you spill everything

hao: GOOD MORNING hao: RISE AND SHINE hao: now spill

y/n: good morning. y/n: dot dot dot

hao: bitch hao: i'm onto you

y/n: 😀 y/n: wanna get breakfast? y/n: we can go to that new açai bowl place that opened up near campus y/n: i can spill then

hao: sure i’ll pick you up in 10

The açai bowl place was unfortunately mediocre.

You were not impressed with the range of toppings and neither was Minghao. You two ended up settling for your regular orders with several inclusions left out. To top it off, the bowls were insanely overpriced, leaving you and Minghao thoroughly unsatisfied.

You sat at one of the tables with him, scooping granola into your mouth as you listened to him talk about his experience at the party. Apparently, Vernon started to black out as soon as they made him do a keg stand, so Minghao and Jungwoo took the liberty of taking him home and tucking him in bed. Soonyoung was scrambling around the house because the party had gotten so out-of-hand that one of the neighbors called the cops on them.

You ended up explaining how you and Mingyu ended up going home, fighting down the heat spreading across your face whenever Minghao would shoot you a knowing look. It was as if he was saying, Oh, man, you two are practically already dating.

“Yeah, and about that,” he started and cleared his throat, “you two are still virgins, right?”

Your jaw went slack for a moment, and all you could do was stare at your friend until he let out a questioning hum.

“What?” Minghao continued. “Okay, I haven’t told the others about what I noticed or anything. I just picked up on it last night.”

You frowned before asking, “You picked up on… my v-card?”

“No.” He scoffed. “I picked up on the way you and Mingyu were acting around each other. If you guys actually had sex, there’s no reason for you to act all shy whenever Mingyu comes near you. So, I concluded that either you two haven’t fucked or you caught feelings for him.”

You swallowed hard. For the most part, Minghao had pieced it together perfectly, but you were unsure about his last presumption.

First of all, you had zero idea that you were acting shy in front of Mingyu last night. Sure, there were moments where you felt like your heart dropped to your stomach, but you didn’t think it was noticeable enough for other people to pick up on it.

Second of all, you were pretty sure you were just caught up in the excitement of potentially having sex with Mingyu. Minghao was probably mistaking your anticipation for an emotion too complex for you to feel for your best friend.

Lastly, he caught your virgin self red-handed. Since you still hadn’t established a proper story with Mingyu yet, there was no way you could defend yourself now. Not when you were blanking on excuses.

“H-huh?”

“You were still acting like Little Miss I’ve Never Felt The Touch Of A Man, is what I’m saying.”

You frowned. Okay, rude.

“Fine. You got me,” you replied, sighing in defeat. “We’re both still virgins. I really fucked up when I started running my mouth in front of you guys.”

Minghao almost seemed alarmed for a moment, but his expression relaxed. Slowly, his smile tugged into a proper laugh. It wasn’t enough to wipe the mortified expression off your face, though; in fact, you felt even more humiliated.

“I knew it,” he said. “I knew there was something fishy about your story!”

“Please don’t tell the others,” you begged. “Soonyoung’s gonna hate me if he finds out I lied to him.”

Kwon Soonyoung was especially sensitive about lying. Most people were, of course, but Soonyoung prioritized trust in his relationships, whether they were platonic or romantic. Once, when he found out his ex-girlfriend lied about where she would go on Friday nights, he broke up with her a week later.

You weren’t sure how he would react to your lie, but you weren’t enthusiastic about finding out.

“You’re gonna tell him eventually, though, right?”

You sighed. “I know I have to eventually. I just have to find the right timing. Things got complicated between Mingyu and I, so I’m trying to figure that out first.”

Minghao took a sip from his Coca-Cola. “What happened between you and Mingyu?”

You swallowed down a mouthful of açai and granola before explaining, “So, basically, to clear up the lie about Mingyu and I, we’ve decided to lose our virginities to each other.”

“You’re losing your virginity… to cover up a lie?”

“No! I mean, technically yes, but, like, I just think—”

“Listen,” he interrupted. “I know you’re terrible at math, but let’s put two and two together here.” Despite the offense drawn across your face, he continued, “Mingyu’s been saving himself for that ‘special someone,’ so obviously, he wouldn’t just lose his virginity to anyone.”

“You’re saying he’s gonna back out?”

“I’m saying—” Minghao cut himself off and a smile spread across his face. “You know what, I’m gonna let you figure that out for yourself. My work here is officially done.”

“What?! You can’t just say that and give me no context!”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Vernon told me not to meddle, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut until you see it for yourself.”

“See what for myself?” you asked with an exasperated sigh.

“You’ll see.”

When you got home, Mingyu was already in your house with a large whiteboard in the center of your living room. Before you even opened your mouth to ask where the hell it came from, he explained that he “borrowed” it from the community room downstairs. (You made a mental note to return it before anyone noticed it missing.)

Your head was still turning after your conversation with Minghao, and you weren’t all that great at hiding your expression. As soon as you made eye contact with Mingyu, you could tell he knew something was up.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you replied as you shrugged off your jacket. “How was the gym? Also, why the whiteboard?”

He grinned. Scrawled on the board in blue Expo marker were both of your names as headers for columns. Mingyu handed you a black marker and stood with one hand gripping the top of the board.

“Step one,” he started. “We write down anything we wanna try, and then we approve or veto the options.”

You uncapped the marker. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“No judgment?”

“No judgment.”

You started writing down whatever desires you had pushed down for years. Albeit short, you figured they covered all the bases. Weeks ago, you wouldn’t have dreamed of admitting any of them to Mingyu; now that your relationship with him took a turn, however, it wasn’t so hard to reveal them.

Next to you, Mingyu was shamelessly jotting sex positions down like he had them memorized. You peeked at his list out of the corner of your eye and nearly did a spit take. The first one on your list was kissing, but Mingyu had started off with anal.

Although he agreed to zero judgment, you were finding it hard to feel the same way.

Once you two were done, you stepped back to look at the whiteboard with its two complete lists side-by-side. Mingyu’s list was considerably longer than yours, but you stood by your own. You felt as though yours was more natural, more gradual.

Y/N

Kissing

Neck kissing

Touching

Penetrative sex

MINGYU

Anal

69

Cowgirl

Wall sex

Public sex

Phone sex

It had come to your attention that Mingyu, like every other man, was incredibly horny.

You had been worrying about the act of sex itself for ages, and your best friend was suggesting something far beyond your capabilities? You weren’t even considering doing anal in the next ten years, let alone for the sake of your contract.

Mingyu snorted. “Kissing.”

“You said no judgment!”

“I thought it was cute, that’s all,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Anyway, anal?” You scoffed. “I don’t know if your list is exactly beginner level.”

“Well, that’ll just make you an expert by the end of this, won’t it?”

You couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. “Okay, how about we start with my much more reasonable list, and then we can get to your scary, intimidating one once we actually, um… do the deed.”

“You have seriously got to start just saying sex.”

“Shut up.”

Mingyu’s smirk was not helping your blush one bit, so you just pretended the embarrassing warmth spreading across your chest didn’t exist. Instead, you grabbed the whiteboard eraser to wipe off the ink from the word anal.

Your best friend slash fuckbuddy let out a petulant whine, so you smacked his bicep.

“I approve of the others for now,” you started shyly, “but we start yours after my list is finished. Do you have anything from mine that you don’t approve of?”

The question wasn’t very sensible, considering all of your list was a prerequisite for more than half of Mingyu’s list. However, after your conversation with Minghao, you were still unsure if Mingyu actually wanted to go all the way with you.

“Nope,” he answered, smiling at you with questioning eyes as if his answer had already been clear as day. “Your list is pretty tame, y’know? Not that it’s a problem or anything.”

Before you could answer, he sucked in a sharp breath and looked over at the board again. “Actually, maybe we should get rid of your first one. It might mess with, uh, rule four.”

Ah, the fourth rule: The friendship must not be ruined, and if the friendship was ever in danger of being ruined, the contract would be terminated.

You were devastated that it had come back to bite you in the ass.

In an attempt to veil your disappointment, you shrugged and turned your head away so that your best friend wouldn’t see the rejection clouding your eyes.

“I’m just curious, but why’re you against kissing?” you asked. “I mean, I just feel like it’ll be awkward if we don’t.”

“You know, it’s the whole neurotransmitters and dopamine rush thing, Y/N,” he explained. If you weren’t feeling so miserable about your best friend turning you down, then you probably would have giggled at his random neuroscience tidbit. “It’s such an emotional act.”

Part of you understood Mingyu’s reasoning behind avoiding kissing. If you were so affected just by his words and eye contact now, then kissing him would mess with your emotions. You weren’t exactly sure if you held kissing at more of a sentimental level as Mingyu did, but you agreed that it intensified intimacy.

Before you were about to hesitantly accept his words, though, Mingyu added, “Judas, in fact, betrayed Jesus with a kiss.”

You couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth.

“Yeah,” you started, “I don’t think these situations are comparable.”

After gingerly prying the whiteboard eraser from your fingers, Mingyu crossed out “kissing” from your column. The dried ink from the dry erase marker streaked across the board, leaving fragments of ink scattered about that he didn’t bother wiping off. (You were a little distracted by the little zap of electricity that coursed through your veins after his fingers brushed against yours.)

Without missing a beat, Mingyu asked, “You don’t have, like, crabs or anything, right?”

“You’re accusing me of having pubic lice?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” he mumbled, “I guess it sort of sounds like I am. I mean, I don’t actually think you have crabs! I just—you know… it’s good to ask.”

“No, Mingyu, I don’t have crabs.”

“Good, good.” His voice trailed off awkwardly and he leaned against the frame of the whiteboard. His unrelaxed mannerisms were making you feel nervous. “That’s always good.”

“Do you have crabs?”

“I do. Her name’s Clawdia, but with a w, like claw.”

“Mingyu,” you warned.

“I’m kidding.” He held his hands up in defense. “No crabs here. Except Clawdia, but she belongs to Wonwoo.”

You rolled your eyes. Mingyu’s roommate since freshman year, Jeon Wonwoo, was someone you surprisingly didn’t have a lot of interactions with despite him and Mingyu being best friends. Whenever you went over to Mingyu’s place, Wonwoo was normally locked up in his room, either studying or gaming away.

Apparently, he also owned a crab.

“Alright, so,” you started in a small voice, “when do we start?”

His eye contact was galvanizing, sending little currents shooting up your spine. For a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. All you could think about was how brown Mingyu’s eyes were and how they swallowed you whole whenever his gaze set on you.

Normally, you could see glimmers of sunlight dancing across his irises. Now, the look in his eyes was almost ferocious, like two voids that sucked you in.

His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and you almost picked up on the raised pitch of his voice when he proposed, “How about later?”

“Later sounds perfect.”

Telling white lies became increasingly easier around Kim Mingyu.

Later never came.

You were starting to experience major déjà vu because it was so like Mingyu to chicken out after giving his word. Not one phone call or text to meet up, nor did you two bring it up in day-to-day conversations.

On one particular night, though, Mingyu sent you a semi-suggestive message, asking for permission to come over. Since you figured you would be in for a long night, you made sure to shave and spritzed yourself all over with your favorite Givenchy perfume. To your dismay, Mingyu was quick to mention that he wanted to continue your Barbie movie marathon. You begrudgingly spent your night watching Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses.

(And you swore his fingers brushed against yours under the blanket you two shared, but when you glanced up at his face, flickering with the shifting TV light, he pulled his hand back faster than it happened.)

The very moment a Barbie movie would start playing, you knew that absolutely nothing would happen between you and Mingyu. And, even if he tried to initiate anything, you wouldn’t reciprocate because there was no fucking way you would taint your wholesome Barbie marathon experience with sexual intercourse.

A week flew by without any follow-up on the contract, but you supposed you were partly to blame, too. There were several times where you could have brought up the topic yourself, but you were just as hesitant as Mingyu. Talking about it was one thing, but acting on your hormones was a feat of its own.

All the waiting and anticipation over Mingyu hopefully making a move was simply making you hornier. It was hard to even think properly whenever you started daydreaming of his lips on top of yours, dragging down your neck, moving down your body—

“—and that’s why you will be receiving twenty boxes of Connect Fours.” Soonyoung finished, causing you to snap out of whatever fantasy was playing in your head.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t really know how to articulate myself better here,” he said. “Twenty boxes of Connect—”

“No, no, I heard what you said,” you interrupted, “but why the fuck?”

He waved your question off. “That’s not important. What’s important is that you let me know when you get those twenty boxes.” He flashed you a grin and a thumbs-up when you just nodded, dazed. “Thanks. This is why I love you.”

You took a nervous sip from your vanilla milkshake. (Soonyoung worked for the Undergraduate Student Council, which meant you could exploit him for his free dining dollars.)

You couldn’t help but feel crushing guilt every time you spoke to Soonyoung, especially when you two were hanging out one-on-one like this. Mingyu had been harping on and on about how it wasn’t that big of a deal, but maybe it was because the thought of losing your virginity was such a huge deal to you that you kept brooding over your lie.

And, to make matters worse, all you could think about was Mingyu because you were horny out of your mind. The longer he stayed away from you, the longer you kept thinking about him. You almost wished he hadn’t initiated this stupid contract if he wasn’t going to follow through with it.

“Hey, look, it’s your walking wet dream,” Soonyoung said, and lo and behold, there he was: Kim Mingyu fitted in a sleeveless white shirt and gray sweatpants.

He was walking with Jungwoo, whom you assumed came from the gym, too. Mingyu’s hair was damp and matted to his neck, and his muscles were accentuated by a faint sheen of sweat. They didn’t notice you and Soonyoung at first, too occupied with their own conversation, but after Soonyoung hollered from the table you two were sitting at, the two men started looking around until they spotted you.

Maybe you were seeing things, but it was almost like Mingyu seized up at the sight of you.

“Y/N!” Jungwoo was looking at you as if a lightbulb just went off in his head. “I’m formally inviting you to join Kappa Sigma in Vegas this weekend.” When you were about to protest, he continued, “Apparently, Chan’s date flaked on him last minute, so he’s looking for someone else to go with him.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “So what’s the catch?”

“No catch. You get to go to Vegas for free and hang out with me and Soonyoung.”

“Seriously?”

Soonyoung grinned. “C’mon, it’s Sin City.”

Mingyu scoffed. “Wait, this weekend? Isn’t that kind of short notice?”

“It’s Vegas, and everything’s covered. All you have to do is pack a bag or two.” Jungwoo clicked his tongue before patting Mingyu’s chest. “You won’t mind, right? Y’know, since you two fucked and all.”

“Jungwoo!” you screeched, horrified by his blunt wording.

“What? It’s true.”

Mingyu lowered his gaze. “It just happened once. No big deal.”

“See, Mingyu doesn’t have any hard feelings,” Soonyoung said, elbowing you gently in an attempt to lighten your mood. “You have Chan’s number, right? Just shoot him a text when you decide.”

You nodded half-heartedly. Some sort of sick grief pressed against your lungs, snaking its way up your throat and making it hard to breathe. It grew hotter and hotter until you had to swallow it down before any tears started rolling down your cheeks.

“We gotta get to our next class,” Jungwoo said, jerking a thumb in Mingyu’s direction, “but just say yes! Think about it: free hotel, free transportation, free drinks—we’ve got you covered.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, huffy. “Maybe I will.”

You felt stupid. Completely and utterly stupid.

Kim Mingyu, although easy on the eyes, was proving to be quite difficult for your heart.

It wasn’t like you two were dating, nor had either of you even kickstarted your friends with benefits relationship, so there was no reason for you to be upset over his words. As many times as you tried to push it down, you kept seeing his twisted expression when he uttered those three words that pricked you like thorns. No big deal.

No big deal that you felt like crying your eyes out over Kim Mingyu, who wasn’t even anything to you other than a friend. No big deal that you were curled up on your couch, watching a TV show that you were barely paying attention to, but the noise made you feel less alone. No big deal that you were scooping your cookies and cream ice cream into your mouth, thinking about how it was his favorite flavor.

The stupid part was that Mingyu was just covering up your mess. You two didn’t even have sex, and he was just going along with the lie that you came up with. There was no logical reason for you to be mad at him.

And you realized that logic wasn’t often involved in matters of the heart, anyway.

A knock came at your door at approximately 9:15 p.m.—right when you were about to take a shower and drag yourself to bed. You figured it was Mingyu before you even opened it because no one else would show up uninvited.

“Hey,” he said, taking note of your disheveled appearance with an agonizingly slow sweep of his eyes. An ugly part of your heart wanted to believe he possibly could have been checking you out. “Are you busy right now?”

“I was just doing my assignment, but it’s due tomorrow, so I’m chilling.”

“Sorry, I should’ve called or texted.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s all good. Did you need anything?”

You could see him visibly swallow before asking, “Can I come in?” As soon as you opened the door wider, letting Mingyu step through the entry-way, he turned to you and let his shoulders sag. “I feel like I fucked up somehow.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” you said, keeping your back turned to him as you closed and locked your door. Your hand lingered on the door knob for a moment until you pulled away and headed to your living room, hardly sparing Mingyu a glance. “You were just covering for our lie.”

That clearly wasn’t what was plaguing Mingyu, though. Even after you clarified that he hadn’t done anything wrong, it still looked like something was bothering him. His eyes were hard and his jaw was jutting out, which was what his face usually set into when he was sulking.

“Are you really going to Vegas?” he asked, then added, “With Chan?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know yet. It sounds fun. I mean, they’re covering practically everything for me, so I might.”

The reality was that you didn’t care if you went to Vegas or not. Sure, you were more interested after finding out that you didn’t have to pay for transportation or the hotel. Plus, getting to spend time with Jungwoo and Soonyoung away from your college town sounded like a fun experience.

However, you didn’t like the idea of being Chan’s replacement date. You also didn’t want him to feel obligated to go with you just because he had no one else to go with. You also didn’t know what being his date actually entailed because you didn’t want the whole weekend to consist of his frat brothers egging him on to make a move on you.

Like Mingyu said, it was short notice. You were definitely going to feel stressed about making plans for Vegas when it was days away. Not only did you have to pack, but you had to make sure you were all caught up on your schoolwork before you spent your weekend drinking and partying. It didn’t help that you weren’t even done with your assignments due tomorrow.

Mingyu frowned. “You do realize it’s this weekend, right? And you’re probably gonna have to skip your Friday classes to make it.”

“Yeah, I realize that.” You scoffed. “I don’t see why it concerns you, though, considering you and I have both skipped classes before just because we didn’t feel like going. Do you not want me to go or something?”

“It’s completely your decision.”

“If it’s completely my decision, then why are you here? And why are we talking about this?”

He faltered, stammering over words that he couldn’t string together before saying, “Look, it’s your choice whether you go or not. I’m not gonna sit here and tell you I don’t want you to go.”

You paused. A stupid jolt of your heart made you ask, “You don’t want me to go?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You literally just did.”

Mingyu took a moment to replay his own words in his head, his expression morphing from confused to dumbfounded in a matter of seconds. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, “but I didn’t say that to change your mind or anything.”

“Well, if you’re gonna bring it up, then at least give me a reason to stay,” you said with an exasperated breath, “or else why should I pass up a free trip to Vegas?”

He pulled away quicker than it happened. One minute you were frustrated, and the next you felt Mingyu’s soft lips pressed against yours for a brief moment. Then, you were frustrated again because it was over so soon. You were blinking away your shock as Mingyu’s hair tickled your face before pulling back.

He kissed you.

Kim Mingyu kissed you.

“You could just stay here,” he murmured in that velvety voice of his, reaching over to card a hand through your hair, brushing that one spot under your ear that made you shudder, “with me.”

Your eyes followed his movements while the rest of your body was frozen, stunned by the sudden physical contact. Mingyu’s voice grew huskier and his eyes darker, but all you could think about were how big his hands were as his fingers ghosted your collarbone.

His lips tugged up in amusement because from one glance, anyone could tell he had an effect on you. There was no denying the electric current running through your body; it was making it harder and harder for you to resist him.

You wasted no time in pulling him down by his collar and kissed him with earnest longing tucked into the corners of your lips.

He didn’t reciprocate until his eyes glazed over with lust, and then Mingyu was grabbing at your waist and pulling you closer. His touch burned, nearly making you flinch underneath the pads of his fingers. If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, there were times where you imagined his lips on yours like this—a thought that crept into your head whenever you saw girls chatting him up at parties.

In sophomore year, Mingyu had a thing with a girl named Hayoung for a few months. There wasn’t a party that would go by without you seeing Mingyu in a corner with her, whispering little secrets that they would laugh at. That was also the year when you became scarily good at hiding your lingering stares. You eventually mastered the art of people-watching without being caught.

And, deep down, you were probably jealous.

And that was probably why you felt like you were in the clouds when Mingyu’s lips were finally on yours.

The two of you were soon engulfed in a cloud of lust once Mingyu nipped at your bottom lip with his sharp canines and slid his tongue into your mouth. You let slip a sound that was something between a whimper and exhale, but it was quickly muffled by Mingyu’s mouth pressing harder against yours, licking into your mouth eagerly. It was as if your lips were molding together in perfect harmony.

It felt as though time melted away, pooling at your feet until you couldn’t move one bit. You felt Mingyu’s big hands ravage down your body while yours were looped around his neck. Just when he started tugging at your clothes, he pulled back and sucked in a sharp breath to ground himself.

You did the same, letting your chest rise and fall steadily as you stared up at him with hints of lust in your eyes that hadn’t ebbed away just yet.

A few moments of silence passed before Mingyu looked toward the whiteboard that you had moved up against the wall.

“Why was kissing on your list, anyway?” he pressed. “You’ve already done it before, so it’s not like it’s anything new to you.” You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Nothing was making sense in your own head. Mingyu stepped closer to you and let his gaze fall to your lips. “Is there another reason?”

You two were impossibly close. So close that you could smell the cologne wafting off him. Feel the cold metal of his chain against your skin.

You were positive that Mingyu could pick up on the nervous hitch in your breathing. Your stomach knotted tighter and tighter as he towered over you, and your heart bruised against your rib cage with how hard it was beating.

“I guess I just felt like I wanted to kiss you,” you admitted, dropping your voice so low that it was barely audible.

But Mingyu heard it. It was clear by the unmistakable grin that stretched across his face.

Always the gentleman, Mingyu asked, “Does that mean we’re ready for step two?”

“What’s step two?”

“Step two on losing your virginity,” Mingyu announced with a dramatic flourish of his wrist to amplify his theatrical voice, “is to set the mood.”

You were pretty sure you and Mingyu already had a good mood going on until he interrupted to announce that.

“Wait, so you were waiting for…” You cut yourself off, shaking your head in disbelief as your eyes focused on his sheepish grin.

“You have to actually want me so that we can start,” he reasoned. “I can’t, like, make you feel good if you’re not into it.”

“But you knew I was attracted to you. I literally called you a ‘walking wet dream’ in front of all our friends.”

“That’s different. You finding me hot isn’t the same as wanting to kiss me.”

“O-okay,” you stammered, “but how do I know if you feel the same way or not?”

“Well,” Mingyu started in that low, husky voice of his, setting his hands on your hips after a beat of hesitation and pulling you closer, “I could just show you.”

His breath was hot against your ear, and you felt as if it lulled you into some sort of trance as he pulled you toward him. Closer and closer until he was sitting on your couch and pulling you on top of him. Before you could even straddle Mingyu properly, he started planting kisses up the column of your neck. Each one grew more hungry than the last as he nipped and sucked at your tender skin.

This was not happening.

Well, of course this was supposed to happen, but you hadn’t exactly mentally prepared yourself for this very moment. The very moment when you and Mingyu would physically cross the line of friendship.

“That feel good?” he purred against your skin, the vibrations making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The fire in his stare made you feel like putty in his hands.

“Mmhm,” was all you could muster without falling apart, so you just wrapped your arms around him tighter.

You winced when he bit down on a particularly sensitive patch of your flesh. For a while, Mingyu just sucked and nipped at the side of your neck until he was pulling back and you were whining for more. His thumb brushed against the bluish-black mark he created, and you could only imagine how much concealer you were going to need to cover it up.

His lips attached to your neck again. For a moment, you thought he was going to give you another hickey until his pecks traveled up all the way to kiss a tender spot under your ear, and then you two froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to proceed. Mingyu’s lips tugged into a frown as he looked at you with an inquisitive hum.

His gaze fell to your lips. “Should I just—”

He cut you off with a swift, experimental peck to your lips. A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw how flustered you looked after.

“Mingyu,” you said in a small voice, “I thought you said no kissing?”

“I don’t care anymore.”

Once again, his lips chased yours until he successfully captured them in a searing kiss. You immediately melted in his hold, and even though part of you was screaming at the other half to stop and think about what you and your best friend were doing, all you cared about was the way Mingyu pulled you closer by the waist, higher onto his lap.

Yet, although you were unbearably horny, you still flinched when Mingyu’s fingers slid under your shirt and sprawled out against your bare midriff.

He froze instantly and then drew his hands back until they were resting on your thighs. You couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh, curling your hands into fists so that your nails were pressing crescent-shaped indents into your palms.

You shook your head, your breath stuttering in your chest. “I’m sorry. I’m all good. I just need to—”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Mingyu said, reaching over to brush your hair out of your face. His other hand stayed on your thigh and gave you a comforting squeeze. “We’re doing this at your pace, remember? We can stop whenever you want.”

But even though he said the right words to put you at ease, you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated with yourself. You just didn’t understand why you had that mental block keeping you from going further. The mixture of discontent and irritation painted across your face was clear as day. But you didn’t want to feel like an idiot in front of Mingyu, so you uncurled your fists and placed your hands on his chest instead.

“Can we try again tomorrow?” you asked shyly.

A single angry tear slid down your cheek, which Mingyu took notice of and promptly wiped from your face with his thumb.

“Of course.” His eyes were a little wide, like he was momentarily buffering while he was trying to figure out how to comfort you. His eyes darted around the room before they settled on the TV remote you kept neatly on top of a stack of books on the coffee table. “Wanna continue our marathon? I think we’re on Island Princess now.”

After you nodded, Mingyu gently helped you off his lap so that you two could watch the movie together. As he toyed with your remote, you couldn’t help but glance at his arms, watching his biceps flex under his shirt. You thought about how they were just circled around your body, and you soon wished his touch was back on your skin.

A short while into the movie, Mingyu’s hand found itself on top of your knee, and you bit back a small smile as it stayed there for the rest of the night.

Mingyu spent another night on the couch—accidentally, because you two fell asleep in the middle of Barbie and the Island Princess—but, this time, you ended up spending the night right next to him.

Of course, nothing happened other than you tossing and turning a few times due to Mingyu’s snores and prying yourself out of his grip so that you could nestle into your blanket. It was an unfortunate fate that you and Mingyu wound up waking up on opposite sides of the couch.

You kept your eyes screwed shut after you woke up, though, choosing to wallow in your own thoughts for the first ten minutes of your day. You couldn’t get over what happened between you and Mingyu last night, and it was making you dread the thought of facing him once you opened your eyes. You were praying that he wouldn’t regret what went down.

It made you feel better that he didn’t shy away from you during the movie. He even made some light jokes about what you two did, which, at the very least, made you glad that he wasn’t having second thoughts.

(“I don’t know why they didn’t call you Captain Chastity By Choice,” Mingyu blurted out while scooping popcorn into his mouth. “We already knocked out half your list.”)

“Morning,” he grumbled in that husky morning voice that made your stomach feel like you were free-falling off a cliff. His soft, sleepy eyes gave you a once-over before he said, “I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

You had been peeking at him through barely-open eyes, but you gave up your farce and straightened up to face him properly.

“Good morning,” you greeted back. “Sleep well?”

He hummed before leaning in to peck your lips—a gesture that caught you off-guard because you didn’t think he would just start casually kissing you whenever. It felt far too intimate for you to brush it off as hormones acting up. You didn’t have the time to ask Mingyu why he did that before he started complaining.

You thought back to the whiteboard where Mingyu crossed out kissing, leaving behind faint traces of dry ink.

“Sort of,” he replied with a pout. “You stole the blanket! I had to curl up in the corner because I was freezing.”

He was rubbing small circles on your thigh with his thumb as he spoke, and you wondered if he knew the effect he had on you.

“By the way,” he continued, “I have an idea.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Let’s not make sex our goal. We can start slow today—maybe just foreplay until you’re comfortable with me.” He straightened up and crossed his legs so that he could face you. “No one’s taken the time to make you feel comfortable first, right?”

You recalled your list of unsuccessful trysts, starting with good old Mark Lee, who unfortunately became reduced to an inside joke in your friend group. After that, you were only intimate with two other men in your college years.

One was Choi Yeonjun, who you stopped while he was in the middle of stripping down so that you could make your escape. He was hot and all, but your nerves caught up to you by the time his tongue was down your throat. The other was Lee Minho, who was an absolute sweetheart, but you ended up calling an Uber to take you home after you saw his (somewhat intimidating) hard-on.

They were quite embarrassing recollections.

“You’re gonna spend the whole day making me feel comfortable?” you asked, and there was a hopeful gleam in your eyes that made Mingyu feel like he was a supernova among stars.

“If that’s what it takes.”

You had to appreciate Mingyu’s commitment.

After making pancakes for you and showing you Reddit stories on TikTok as you ate (which you also spent nearly an hour dissecting afterward), he got right to pulling you onto his lap and tracing a path up and down your forearms. Of course, he let you keep scrolling through his TikTok because you had gotten so immersed in the Reddit stories. Mingyu offered commentary as you two listened to each one under your new favorite profile of the hour.

“Her boyfriend invited another girl to his team dinner?” Mingyu gasped upon hearing the further details, still ghosting his large hands along your arms.

“Not the asshole,” you confirmed at the end with an adamant nod. “He was totally shutting her down when she told him she was uncomfortable.”

“He’s definitely got feelings for the other girl.”

You nearly sucked in a breath at his words. For whatever reason, the very mention of feelings made your nerves feel like cut wire. It was probably because whatever you and Mingyu had become was toeing the line of situationship.

Later, you ended up laying on top of him as a random Disney movie played on your TV. You didn’t exactly remember the process of you two choosing what to watch, but neither of you paid any attention after Mingyu slipped his hands past the hem of your shirt. The pads of his fingers burned against your skin as he drew circles on your bare waist.

“Higher,” you whispered.

Mingyu hummed inquisitively, peering down at you with an amused smile. He ran his hands up your torso so that his fingers rested right under the underwire of your bra.

“Like that?” he asked, and the teasing inflection in his voice made it clear that he was waiting for you to beg for more. And, oh, he loved the look on your face as you fought down your embarrassment. You shook your head before he cooed, “No?”

“No,” you echoed, “higher.”

Mingyu’s fingers slid up just enough to feel the wiring lining your bra cups. He frowned and moved one hand to the small of your back, snaking his hand up until he was holding onto the clasp.

“Mind if I get this out of the way?”

“Go ahead.”

He unclasped your bra with expert precision, his fingers working effortlessly to undo the hook. Your eyes were practically bugging open as you felt the fabric fall from your chest, wondering where in the world Mingyu learned how to do that. You didn’t have the mind to ask, though, because as soon as your bra straps came loose and fell down your shoulders, Mingyu’s hands cupped your breasts and squeezed experimentally.

This was probably the farthest you had gone in terms of physical touch, and you didn’t feel strange at all. Something about Mingyu’s touch was comforting, like the warmth of the sun enveloping you whole.

He rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, making you wince upon contact. You didn’t realize you were so sensitive already. It was clearly affecting Mingyu, too; you could feel something hard poking your thigh, and from what you gathered, it was impressively large under his sweatpants.

“So,” you started, a little too nervous for your liking, “all this is supposed to help me feel comfortable during sex?”

“Yeah, I worked it all out in my head,” Mingyu said between intervals of circling your nipple with his thumb and kissing your neck. “This is all part of my extremely helpful guide to helping you lose your virginity.”

“I wouldn’t call it extremely helpful, considering you’re a virgin yourself.” You laughed when Mingyu pouted in response. “What? I’m just saying I don’t think you have the credentials.”

“I will in”—he proceeded to check an imaginary watch on his wrist—“two business days.”

Two business days, as in the two days Soonyoung and Jungwoo had left for their Vegas trip. Mingyu was determined for you both to lose your virginities by then, although he reassured you over and over again that you could always speak up if you needed more time.

You had been getting several updates from Soonyoung and Jungwoo throughout the day. Apparently, Chan ended up going stag, but last night you saw two girls draped over him on Jungwoo’s Snapchat story. It made you feel a little less bad about turning down being his date.

“Plus,” Mingyu continued, “I have no problem getting naked right now. You’re the one who’s holding back.”

There was a challenging fire in your eyes. “You have no problem?”

“Nope.”

“Alright.” You put your hands over Mingyu’s and pushed them away from your body. “Then strip. Getting comfortable being naked means we have to actually be naked, right?”

“That means you have to undress, too.”

“Fine.”

He looked amused. “Fine.”

Fuck.

You were nervous.

And surprisingly, it wasn’t the thought of being naked in front of Mingyu that made you nervous, it was seeing your best friend completely nude that had you worried. It was no surprise to anyone that Mingyu was a looker, and you weren’t sure you were ready what he looked like under those clothes.

Mingyu gently moved you off of him and stood up to start stripping off his pants and shirt. His shirt came off in a single, swift motion, revealing his toned, muscular body. Years of work were etched in the grooves of his abdomen, his soft stomach complemented by strong muscle. Mingyu was never the type to show off his body at the gym, but you were starting to wish you were prepared for how gorgeous he was.  

Next, he pushed his sweatpants down until the fabric swamped his ankles. You swallowed hard when you saw the growing bulge in his boxers, but seconds later you were looking at how his hard cock stood right up as soon as his boxers had been discarded somewhere across your living room floor.

He was huge.

“Your turn,” he murmured.

You felt your pulse race.

“That’s not fitting inside me,” you blurted out, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “There’s no way that fits inside me.”

“It’ll fit, Y/N,” he replied softly, reaching forward to take your hands in his. “I’ll do everything I can to make it fit comfortably, and if it doesn’t work out, then we can just keep trying at whatever pace works for you.” You looked skeptical but Mingyu held up his pinky finger. “Promise.”

There was no room for you to doubt him when he was looking at you with those big, hopeful eyes. So, you hooked your pinky finger with his and smiled when he helped you take off your shirt, still keeping your fingers interlocked.

Since you normally slept without a bra, your torso was fully bare once your shirt was off, so Mingyu nearly choked on his spit when he saw you. You moved your free hand to slide your shorts down while his eyes were fixed on the swell of your breasts.

“Can I motorboat your tits?” he asked bluntly.

You snorted immediately, taken aback by his straightforward question. Not only that, but your pinky fingers were still hooked together—a rather intimate gesture followed by a vulgar question.

“Whoa there, Sex Education. Let’s take it down a notch.”

He chuckled before sitting back down on the couch. You thought he would’ve wanted to take care of his hard-on, but Mingyu just held out his arms to you.

“What?” you asked, letting him grab your waist and pull you flush to his chest. Your brows furrowed more when he grabbed the TV remote from your coffee table. “What’re you doing?”

“We have to finish Barbie and the Island Princess, don’t we?”

You gave him a look before it clicked for you. This was all part of Mingyu’s plan to make you feel comfortable—pushing your limits and then settling for something that would put you at ease—so you cozied up to him and let him play the movie.

A demure smile stretched across your face. “Only if we can cuddle.”

“As my lady commands,” he joked, and then you were both laughing.

(And, spoiler: he did more than cuddle.

The way he kissed you made you feel like you were standing on hot coals. His tongue was halfway down your throat and his hands ran up and down your sides. You kissed him until your lungs burned for oxygen and you had to pull back for air. Mingyu peppered love bites all over your body and, by the end of the night, you two were a tangled mess of limbs on the floor with your sweat matting your hair down.

But, most importantly, you two finally got through Barbie and the Island Princess.)

There were a few reasons why Mingyu was roommates with Jeon Wonwoo.

He specifically chose not to room with someone in the friend group for two reasons: the first reason was because Wonwoo’s living habits aligned more with his, and the second reason was to avoid any possibility of ruining the friendship dynamic. Mingyu had his fair share of horror roommate stories, dating back to freshman year when his roommate in the dorms lived like a slob and muttered borderline psychopathic threats in his sleep. You remembered countless nights when Mingyu would knock at your door and ask if he could sleep on the floor.

For Mingyu, Wonwoo was his only saving grace since sophomore year.

You had gone to their room a few times, but you never overstayed your welcome. Although Wonwoo never complained, you felt guilty every time he walked out of his room with AirPods in. It was like he knew to block you out when he heard you coming in.

Today, since Mingyu had been working on code all day, you offered to bring him boba from the farmer’s market that you went to with Ryujin.

You double-checked the label on the side before handing him the drink. “Strawberry matcha.”

“Thanks. I’ve been deprived of boba since fall semester.” He grinned as he tore the plastic wrapping his straw was in. Mingyu popped the straw into the sealing film and took a sip before handing it to you. “Want some?”

“Sure.” You graciously took the cup to sip the delicious fruity blend. Shyly, you added, “It’s also a thank you… for last night. You actually helped a lot.”

You could tell Mingyu was fighting down a smirk; you could practically hear it in his tone. “Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, I actually did feel a lot more comfortable after all that.”

He flashed you a bright grin. “See? It’s the guide.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“I’m serious! It’s effective, isn’t it?” He set his drink down to turn his chair and look up at you properly. “You may think I thought of all that on a whim, but I really put extensive thought into it.”

You had to give him credit for the whole scientific method thing he had going on. You wondered if Mingyu’s consecutive six years of participation in the science fair had prepared him for this very moment.

“Extensive thought,” you echoed. “What? Did you write it all down in a notebook or something?” You laughed it off like it was a joke, but when Mingyu’s expression didn’t budge, you realized that you had hit the nail on the head. “Oh my god, you wrote it down!”

Mingyu huffed. “It’s not even that big of a deal! Writing stuff down helps me organize my thoughts.”

“Well, can I see it?”

“Hell no.”

“Just tell me which notebook you wrote it in.”

“No, ‘cause then you’re gonna look at it later.”

Mingyu thought he was subtle enough to pick up the notebook in front of him and move it away from your reach. Rookie mistake.

Your eyes followed his movements.

“That’s the one, isn’t it?” you asked, pointing at the red notebook that you’ve seen Mingyu jot notes down in before. He always carried it in his school bag, and you were starting to piece together why you hadn’t seen it around lately.

“N-no.”

“You’re such a bad liar, Gyu.” You hardly noticed his hands finding the backs of your thighs and pulling you down to straddle his knees. “Will you ever let me see it?”

“Maybe,” he replied, “or I can just show you what I have planned.”

It was then when you realized that the front of Mingyu’s jeans did look strained. The visible outline of his bulge made you unconsciously clench, which he smirked at once he felt the pulsation against his leg. You weren’t even sure if he was fully hard, but you could definitely feel him through your cotton shorts once you were pulled onto his thighs.

His lips found yours in seconds. Days ago, this was something you were hesitant about doing, but now it came more naturally. Your hands moved in a familiar path from his chest to loop around his neck, and then it was like a switch turned on for your best friend.

You broke from the kiss for air and you both looked down, foreheads touching as Mingyu grabbed your ass with rough hands and helped you grind down on him. Your head clouded over, and all you could think about was moving your hips to meet his so that you could chase the growing ache between your legs.

“That’s right,” he rasped. “That’s a good girl.”

Oh, if he knew the effect his words had on you. You were shamefully ruining the front of his jeans with how aroused you were.

At this point, his hardened length felt massive under you, so you lifted your hips to see just how big his pants had tented up. Mingyu’s grip on you loosened and he lowered his head, embarrassed. Before he could apologize, though, you got off his lap and sank to your knees.

Ever-so-sweetly, you asked, “Can I help?”

You swore you had never seen Mingyu look so blown away in his life.

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course.” You pouted. “You’ve been doing so much for me, and I wanna make you feel good, too.” You balanced your forearms on his knees and grinned up at him, watching his Adam’s apple bob nervously. “So, can I?”

“Please,” he nearly whimpered, fumbling with his zipper to get his jeans and black Calvin Klein boxers down. You helped him out graciously, tugging the fabric down to his ankles and marveling at his cock once it sprung up, curved slightly to your left. Mingyu nearly fell apart when he saw you between his legs, letting out an eager groan. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

“You’re really big,” you mumbled, tracing his v-line accentuated by his taut muscles, then his hip, and then the long vein that ran down his shaft with your thumb.

You weren’t even sure if you would be able to take all of him in your mouth. Plus, this wasn’t exactly your area of expertise. You knew this wasn’t Mingyu’s first time receiving head, so you were slightly intimidated. You were slightly terrified about possibly not being good at sucking dick, but you figured your mouth could do a better job than his right hand.

But you had already come this far.

Mingyu’s hand carded through your hair, pulling it back from your face. The gesture only made your confidence falter, wanting to just melt like putty in his grip. You reached out to wrap your hand around his shaft, surprised how rock-hard it was. That just made it all the more nerve-wracking to take him down your throat.

He seemed to pick up on your hesitation, gently asking, “Want me to talk you through it?”

You looked up at him and nodded, flushing hotly when you saw his sincere eyes gleam with amusement.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed, grabbing your jaw and gently pressing down on your bottom lip with his thumb. You obeyed and parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb into your mouth. “Wider.”

You complied. Mingyu adjusted his hips quickly before encouraging you with a nudge to put your mouth over the head of his cock. You wrapped your lips over his tip, licking off the precum that beaded his slit, and Mingyu hissed sharply.

He let out a sharp breath and let his gaze fly to the ceiling, gripping the arm of his chair. “Fuck, Y/N.”

Mingyu calling out your name so desperately only spurred you to take more of his cock until it hit the roof of your mouth. You were addicted to the sounds of his whimpers, relishing each high-pitched whine from him as you licked the underside of his head. Before, you thought the act of giving head was just extra work for women, but now you were starting to see why it was so addicting. Every moan and cry from Mingyu just made your pride inflate.

You looked up at him through your lashes to see the breathtaking view of his head thrown back and neck veins strained. Mingyu’s hips bucked up slightly, but he fought down his moans to make sure Wonwoo didn’t hear anything.

“Sorry,” he grunted out, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. “Couldn’t help it.”

You pulled off of him for a moment to reply, “I don’t mind if you do it again.”

“Really?” His voice was almost breathless, half-surprised and half-excited.

You nodded, and Mingyu regained his composure a little so that he could sit up and slide his hand into your hair once more. Your lips wrapped around his cock again and sucked gently on his impressive length. His fingers buried themselves into your hair for leverage so that he could hold onto you while he started slowly moving his hips into your mouth.

With the way Mingyu was moving, you could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. He looked at you for confirmation to continue, so you nodded eagerly and sat up higher on your knees to take him in fully.

The first push into your mouth he did was meek—just enough to get the tip of his head down your throat. You tried to relax your throat to take him in easier, blinking back a few stray tears that were brought on by your gag reflex. The second push was a little stronger, getting a little deeper, which roused a moan out of you. Mingyu must have felt the vibration in his cock because he groaned and bucked his hips into your mouth rougher. His thumb found your bottom lip and rubbed it gently, as if he was prying it open wider.

“Fuck, Y/N, your mouth feels so good,” Mingyu breathed out, soft grunts and curses falling from his lips as he went faster.

His free hand wiped away the tears that started streaming down your cheeks. You were past the point of slight discomfort now, and now you were too focused on listening to Mingyu’s pretty moans to think about anything else.

Without any proper warning, Mingyu’s entire body tensed up and he let out a loud groan, shooting his cum down your throat. He threw his head back, and then his whole body relaxed. His grip on your hair tightened and loosened. You squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed down his load before you pulled off of him, watching his chest heave as he tried to control his breathing.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologized profusely. Still winded from his own high, Mingyu was stumbling over his own words. “I didn’t… didn’t think it would happen that fast.” He opened his eyes again and nearly fell apart at the sight of you. “Fuck. Did you really swallow?”

You nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I remember Jungwoo told me before that spitters are quitters, or something like that.”

The tension was thick in the room. Although you intended for your comment to lighten things up, the look in Mingyu’s eyes only darkened.

“Come here.”

You could only squeak in surprise as Mingyu pulled you up to kiss him, his rough hands cupping your cheeks. He didn’t seem to care that he was tasting himself on your tongue, and the act only made you moan against his lips. Seconds stretched into minutes before he pulled back.

“My turn,” he said. “Take off your shorts and get on the bed.”

You were reaching to tug down your shorts before he had even finished talking. After sitting down on the edge of your bed, your fingers flew down to tug at your underwear, but Mingyu got to it before you did. He knelt so that he was between your thighs, looking up at you carefully as he slid the cloth past your ankles and lifted one of your legs higher before propping it over his shoulder.

He pulled you in by the hips, dragging his nose up your middle thigh until it reached the apex of your legs. You looked down at Mingyu, breath hitching as you put your other leg over his free shoulder. His hands slid up your thighs and gripped your hips tightly. His long fingers were splayed out at your abdomen, and you felt your stomach flutter.

“No one’s ever gone down on you, huh?” he asked, and you confirmed his statement with a shake of your head. “Just sit back and let me do all the work, then.”

Your nerves caught up to you for a moment. You started to overthink, wondering if the position you were in was unflattering, or if you even tasted good down there, or if Mingyu was only doing this because he felt obligated.

But then he circled your clit with his tongue and you couldn’t think at all.

You cut yourself off by slapping a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the moan that threatened to slip. Your train of thought had completely derailed when Mingyu licked a long stripe between your folds. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as he flattened his tongue against your cunt to taste you better. A soft groan from him vibrated through your core and up your spine.

Your back arched almost immediately. “Oh—oh my god.”

He started kissing your cunt, and god, it all felt so dirty. You had never felt this way before, and now that you knew that Mingyu’s tongue could make you feel this good, you were starting to see the full appeal of sex. He paused to suck on your clit, and you felt like you were short-circuiting while he ate you out like a man starved.

A pressure started building. You grew anxious and shot right up, tugging on Mingyu’s hair. He was unaware of your panic at first, and then he lifted his head once he felt you tap his shoulder repeatedly. Once his mouth was gone, though, you felt that pressure ebbing away.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “Need me to stop?”

You had to push down all of your shame to admit, “I think I have to use the bathroom.”

To your surprise, Mingyu just laughed. “The bathroom?”

“I’m serious!” You flushed, and the warmth that prickled your skin was different this time.

“I promise you, that’s not what you’re feeling,” he said, rubbing your thigh with his thumb in slow circles. His voice was gentle, like he was trying to soothe your nerves. “Just trust me and let that pressure keep building. Eventually, it’s gonna reach a point where it can’t hold itself in anymore, and then you’re gonna feel really good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, so just relax for me, okay?”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding before sitting back in your previous position where you had your elbows propped up. Mingyu returned to your cunt with an experimental lick, lasting all of two seconds before he resorted back to his rough kissing and sucking.

You held onto the sheets for dear life as Mingyu plunged his hot tongue into your core, reaching a specific spot that made your eyes roll back and your toes curl. He kept your hips pinned to the mattress as he licked into you. His nose brushed against your clit with how close his face was. It was the final push to send you over the edge, and the warmth that had been building up finally unleashed into blinding white pleasure.

You came hard. The force of your orgasm nearly knocked the wind out of you, and your back was lifting off the bed as Mingyu tried to hold your hips down with great effort. The warmth of it coursed through your entire body, causing the surface of your skin to bead with sweat and cling to the sheets you were laying on.

And, as a photographer, Mingyu had taken pictures of countless gorgeous views that he’d come across in his lifetime, but the sight of you falling apart because of him was, by far, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He pulled back to rub your clit in gentle circles while you were being pulled and swept away by the undertow of your orgasm. Mingyu murmured sweet nothings to keep you grounded, but you couldn’t process any of his words as your ears rang with white noise.

You blinked slowly as you came down from your high, whining as soon as Mingyu took his hand away from your sore clit. Before you were going to praise him for how good he was with his mouth, his lips returned to clean up the mess you made. You could only writhe and whimper as Mingyu licked at your soaking cunt.

He pulled back to grin at you, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. You had always thought Mingyu looked attractive, but he was godly like this. Your heart raced just by looking at how his dark hair fell into his face and how his canines showed in his smile.

“Earth to Y/N,” he called, waving a hand in front of your face. When you snapped back into reality, you shot him a questioning look. “I was asking how you’re feeling.”

“Good—great,” you corrected, and then you let out a blissful sigh. “Amazing.”

“Great.” He grinned. “Ready for round two?”

“Round two?”

“Yeah, beautiful. You didn’t think we were done yet, right?”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” Ryujin looked mortified upon first glance of the bruises that littered your neck. “Are you hooking up with a leech?”

You had gone over to Ryujin’s apartment to drop off one of the prints she got from the farmer’s market and left in your car. Naturally, you ended up spending the evening there. Since you were so eager to share what had happened between you and Mingyu (telling Vernon or Minghao simply wasn’t an option right now), you ended up spilling everything that went down.

From the contract to you and Mingyu going down on each other earlier today, Ryujin hung onto every single word of yours with her jaw hanging in an almost comical way. She was shoveling handfuls of Hot Cheetos into her mouth as you gave her a detailed rundown of the story.

“This is so messy,” she gushed. “I love it.”

“It’s not messy!” you defended, and then added, “Okay, it’s a little messy, but we agreed to stop if it ever starts affecting our friendship.”

“So, you think sucking and fucking isn’t going to affect your friendship at all?”

You stayed silent.

“You should know that cross-contamination in the friend group most likely leads to disaster,” Ryujin continued as she popped a Hot Cheeto in her mouth. “It’s all fun and games because you guys think you’ll be able to maintain the friendship, but as soon as someone catches feelings, it’s over.”

A heavy sigh fell from your lips. “To be honest, I’m a little worried.”

“Worried?”

“We had this whole rule against kissing and it lasted, like, a week,” you explained. “I mean, we didn’t even do anything during that week, so I guess it lasted, like, five minutes. The rule was supposed to be there so that we wouldn’t catch feelings or anything, but Mingyu completely ignores it now. I’m not reading too deeply into this, right?”

Ryujin pondered in thought for a moment before redirecting the question back to you. “Do you want it to be deeper than it is?”

You frowned. “Huh?”

“Like, think about it,” Ryujin said. “Remember when you had a little crush on Mingyu during freshman year? Well, sometimes attraction doesn’t go away, so maybe your old feelings are coming back up now that you guys are, like, hooking up. Probably doesn’t help that Mingyu’s considered conventionally attractive.”

Sure, you had your occasional moments of weakness bubble up to the surface. It was something you tried to keep under wraps, but you were sure Mingyu could pick up on it whenever you were being extra touchy after intimacy.

They were never really of concern to you, though. You figured that you and Mingyu would live out the rest of your lives in parallel lines, neither of you crossing over to the other. It was what made your relationship with him rather simple, really. You would never cross over to his side, and he would never cross over to yours.

That was, until the contract was put into place.

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, and Ryujin clearly wasn’t pleased with your answer.

“Y/N, imagine him kissing another girl,” your friend instructed. She motioned for you to close your eyes, so you groaned and did as she said. You cleared your head to make room for whatever visualization she was making you do. “Imagine him kissing that girl from the Kap Sig party last year. The one who was all giggly and talkative when Mingyu was with us, and then she ignored us after he left.”

“Oh.” You made a face, not even wanting to picture that in your head. “Yeah, I don’t like that, but that girl was bitchy. I don’t think that necessarily means I have feelings for Mingyu, though.”

“Now, imagine him kissing the most likable girl you can think of,” she said. “This girl is the perfect match for Mingyu. She’s gorgeous, and she has a shoulder tattoo—the kind he went crazy over in freshman year. Not only that, but she’s smart. She takes good care of him. She brings him and his friends cookies whenever she bakes. She’s the kind of girl that everyone can’t help but adore when they meet her for the first time.”

You tried to really picture it in your head this time.

You imagined Mingyu next to someone who would be in his league, someone who made people want to stop and stare. You imagined how he would be complimented wherever he went for him and his girlfriend being such an attractive couple.

You imagined him making dinner for her and eating together. You imagined him laughing at inside jokes only the two of them knew about. You imagined him watching Barbie movies with her.

And it made your heart twist painfully.

You decided to shrug it off instead, saying, “If he’s happy, I’m happy.”

“Enough with that shit,” Ryujin deadpanned. “I’m here for drama. Give me something to work with, at least.” She shook her head disappointedly, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her. Once you simmered down, she continued, “But, in all seriousness, I think you should really be careful with whatever you and Mingyu have going on. It won’t end pretty if someone catches feelings while the other person doesn’t.”

You pressed your lips together in a grim line. “You’re right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyway, back to the juicy stuff,” Ryujin said, inching closer to you while hugging her knees. “What else did you guys do?”

“We sixty-nined,” you whispered, as if it was some scandalous bit of gossip. “He was the six; I was the nine.”

“Okay, never mind, let’s tone down the juicy.”

You woke up to several Snapchat notifications from Jungwoo. They were all sent at four in the morning, and most of them were just him running through the streets of Las Vegas at night without his shirt on. You were mildly concerned, but you figured they were just having fun.

You tapped through the other snaps Jungwoo sent you. Soonyoung blacked out on a bar counter. A hooker sitting on Chan’s lap. Jeonghan with several hundred dollar bills in his hands. Another snap of Jeonghan with the caption stating that he lost all his money.

Then, it struck you that it was their last day in Vegas.

“We have one more day,” you informed Mingyu over the phone, “and then we have to start seeing each other secretly.”

“That’s kinda hot.”

“No! Not hot! I don’t know about you, but I experience crushing guilt whenever I have to sneak around them, like when I lied about us sleeping together.”

“Technically, we’re already doing that.”

You snorted. “You know what I mean.”

“By the way, not contract-related, but you should come over right now,” he said. “I have some good news to share.”

“Is it about your pink eye scare?”

At around two in the morning, Mingyu texted you a picture of his puffy eye and claimed he was “allergic to pussy.” You sent him back a picture of you flipping him off.

It turned out to be allergies, but Mingyu was completely convinced he had pink eye—all thanks to WebMD. You had to listen to him freaking out for thirty minutes until he calmly informed you that his eye wasn’t puffy anymore.

“Not funny,” he warned. “Okay, kinda funny, but—okay, wait, point is, you should come over.”

You giggled. “Okay, I’ll come over. See you soon.”

You hung up the phone to get ready, feeling oddly excited about going over to Mingyu’s. Ryujin’s words from last night started to get into your head, making you wonder how you truly distinguished your relationship with your best friend. Because why did you feel the need to put on makeup to see him when you had never thought about that in your four years of being friends? And why were you taking extra long to pick out an outfit that was supposed to be casual?

You were deep in thought all the way to his doorstep, only letting it dissolve into the backwaters of your memory once the door opened to Mingyu’s excited face.

“They chose my submission,” was the first thing he said, his eyes shining.

You didn’t even have to ask for clarification. Right away, you knew exactly what he was talking about: the sunset photograph he submitted to the exhibition. It had been all he was raving about for weeks.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes were wide as you looked down at your hands helplessly. “I don’t have anything for us to celebrate with! Hold on, I can run to the store and buy, like, cake or—”

“Slow down.” Mingyu laughed. He grabbed you gently by your forearms and grinned. “We don’t need to celebrate anything. Just promise me you’ll come see my photography.”

“Of course.”

“My submission was for you, so you have to go. Promise?”

If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider. “It was?”

“You’ll see.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, the gallery opening is in a few days. I’ll text you the address and time later.”

“Alright.” You held out your pinky to interlock with his own. “I promise.”

Mingyu wrapped his pinky around yours and grinned before tugging you by the same finger into his apartment. You followed him into his room, eyeing how strong and wide his back was. You were starting to fall back into dangerous imaginations again, wondering if he was going to make a move on you again now that you two only had a day left. Not that you would admit it to your best friend, but you were hoping something would happen.  

“Wonwoo found out Clawdia was getting lonely, so he’s out looking for a pet store that sells hermit crabs,” Mingyu explained. “He was on my ass about it, too, because I said crabs are probably fine being on their own. I mean, they’re called hermit crabs. How was I supposed to know they’re social creatures? Misleading name, if you ask me.”

Although you were (partly) engrossed in his story about Wonwoo’s pet crab, your eyes couldn’t help but linger on the red notebook on Mingyu’s desk.

He picked up on what was distracting you before you could even tear your gaze away, saying, “You’re so nosy.”

You made a face. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” His shoulders slumped as a retired sigh escaped his lips. You could see that you had been wearing him down over the notebook, so he bargained, “Alright, I’ll show you on one condition.” He plopped down on the edge of his bed. “I want something in return.”

You were most definitely taking his words the wrong way because your cheeks were heating up while Mingyu remained completely impassive.

“Something in return?”

“Yeah, I want an answer,” he started, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “When exactly did you start finding me cute? Or, in your words, a ‘walking wet dream,’ right?”

You barked out an unamused laugh. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m telling you.”

“Notebook,” Mingyu reminded.

Suddenly, you were elated about show-and-tell.

“You first,” he insisted. “I assure you, mine is regrettably more embarrassing.”

“The first time I found you cute…” you trailed off, trying to recall the exact moment you started appreciating your best friend’s attractiveness. “I’d say it was in freshman year when we went on the hike together during orientation week. You were all sweaty and wrapped your arm around me when we took a group picture at the top. I was going crazy about it to Ryujin, but then we became good friends, so I just pretended I never felt that way.”

“Freshman year?” he asked, wide-eyed. “You thought I was cute back then? I was a baby!”

“We were eighteen. Don’t make me sound like a creep.”

Mingyu laughed. “I just can’t believe you thought I was cute back then. I didn’t even think you thought about me like that.”

“It was our first week and I was cut loose from my parents.” You shrugged. “Plus, I think every girl in our orientation group wanted to get in your pants.”

“Not Ryujin.”

“No, she was still dating that guy from her high school, remember?”

You scrunched up your nose at the memory; back in the first few months of your freshman year, Ryujin always ditched you and Mingyu at random points during the night because her controlling boyfriend would call to make sure she wasn’t out and about. He was especially suspicious of Mingyu for being an attractive, well-liked man. You found the whole thing ridiculous because her boyfriend was keeping her from having fun and making friends.

To make matters worse, Mingyu ended up finding out Ryujin’s boyfriend was cheating on her after seeing one of his mutual friends post him on her private Snapchat story. It was a picture of them in bed together, and he completely denied it when confronted. You and Ryujin bonded the most during the week she planned to dump her boyfriend, and she ran straight to you once she did. After she cried her tears and used up all of your tissues, you two had your own beach bonfire to burn all of the gifts he got her.

You still remembered how you and Mingyu were back then. Since you two were still new friends, things were still a little shy and awkward. It wasn’t until your third year that you and Mingyu got closer, starting to hang out one-on-one instead of with Ryujin. Since she got busy with internships and her club activities, Ryujin grew a little distant from Mingyu, although they were still on good terms.

“Alright,” you said, impatience sticky like honey on your tongue, “your turn.”

“Ah, right.”

Mingyu walked over to his desk and picked up the notebook. You watched how he rubbed the back of his neck before turning back to you, and his head was turned so that you wouldn’t catch sight of his blush. (You noticed, though.) He flipped past several pages, eyes skimming through math formulas and physics problems before he landed on a page with several scribbles and arrows.

“It’s, like, this page and a few more,” he explained. “Knock yourself out.”

(You decided not to point out that it was more like ten pages.)

You grinned, thrilled, and laid out the notebook in front of you so that you could take everything in. Right away, Kim Mingyu’s Guide to Losing Your Virginity was scrawled at the top. You snorted, grabbing a pencil from his desk to write Unhelpful before Guide. He watched you nervously as your eyes flitted from note to note, your smile growing bigger at certain things he wrote.

A poorly-drawn arrow from how to make y/n feel comfortable to make sure she knows she can take everything at her own pace made you feel something warm and fluttering in your chest. You couldn’t believe Mingyu put this much effort into making you feel good—so much effort that he had entire pages in his notebook dedicated to brainstorming how to pleasure you. You had never been so focused in your life as you read through what he penciled in, and one idea in particular caught your attention.

suggest REALLY sexual things so she feels more comfortable sharing what she wants to do. this will probably make her judge (bully??) you but it’s for good reason

“You’re kidding,” you said, eyes still fixed on the notebook. “You made your list that long just so I wouldn’t feel awkward?”

Even though you asked the question, you were barely listening to him as your heart pounded in your chest and your blood rushed in your ears. You didn’t even have half the mind to see the shy expression painted over Mingyu’s face because you were so locked in on the notebook. His stammering and backtracking became background noise as you were hyper-focused on the words he wrote.

Somehow, this felt bigger than any emotion you had experienced before.

You were consumed, and it scared you. Sweltering in the overwhelming feeling of longing and possibly something more. And you realized that even if you ended up with someone else after all this, a part of you would always belong to Mingyu—the part of you that watched Barbie movies and liked coming home to a dinner for two.

Was it presumptuous for you to assume that Kim Mingyu could possibly harbor romantic feelings toward you? Was it safe to say that maybe you felt the same way?

“—but now that you’ve seen it,” you finally heard him say (after taking a few seconds to register his voice), “can we take out phone sex from the list? I was never really big on that.”

You looked up at him and laughed, a touch distracted because you were still caught in the tide of your own revelations. But you laughed like you were eighteen again, sitting in Mingyu’s dorm room and listening to him recount one of his hilarious stories about him getting lost on campus or being chased by seagulls.

And now you were twenty-one, sitting in Mingyu’s apartment and giggling like you were eighteen again.

Everything melted away, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to kiss Mingyu.

You sat up on your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck. You didn’t think you had ever looked at Mingyu with such unadulterated desire in your eyes.

Craving. Longing. Yearning.

All of it was festering inside you.

“You’re such a dork, Gyu,” you murmured before pressing your lips to his.

This time, when you kissed him, you felt like all of the stars in the sky hung below the clouds just to witness this very moment. Mingyu was stunned for a few moments before he brought his hands up to pull your face closer to his. His nose brushed against your cheek, and you let a giggle slip between soft pecks and deeper kisses.

He pulled back for air, labored breaths falling from his lips before he found you again. This time, the kiss was deeper, rougher. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as Mingyu held you tighter, squeezing your sides so hard that you were arching up against his body.

You had always tried to push down hope before it was born, but the way Mingyu held you made you feel like you were on top of the world. You wanted to believe there was longing in the way his hands ran up and down your body, but you were too scared that you were mistaking his lust for something more.

Even as he pulled away once more to catch his breath, keeping his eyes flitting between your eyes and lips while his forehead was pressed against yours, you so desperately wanted to believe that there was something more behind his affectionate gaze. Something real.

It was when he pressed a chaste kiss to your nose that your hope bloomed in your chest like a valley of flowers kissed by spring.

His hand found its way behind your head, bringing you back to him for more. You felt like you could be there forever, just exchanging wordless affection and holding each other close. Mingyu moved over you so that he was suspended over your body, starting to lick into your mouth once your back hit the bedsheets. You accepted it almost immediately, parting your lips so that your tongue could dance with his.

Then, you were whining against his lips, begging for more. The sloppier and dirtier your kisses got, you were desperate for more skin-to-skin contact. You hooked your finger into one of his belt loops and tugged him closer, which resulted in Mingyu grinding his hips down against yours.

“You want more?” he asked, more raspy than coherent, really, and you could only nod in response as you pulled him closer. Mingyu peppered kisses from your jawline to the column of your neck, leaving behind love bites that you would need a lot of concealer and color corrector for later. “I don’t wanna rush—”

“No, Gyu,” you urged him, tugging him forward by the front of his shirt. “I need you.”

His voice came out in a breath. “Need me?”

“I want you. I want you to be my first because I… I trust you.”

He grinned brightly, canines on full display while his hair was a tousled mess above you. You were pretty sure his smile would be imprinted behind your eyelids forever.

His hand slipped under your shirt and ran up your back, maintaining eye contact with you and looking pleasantly surprised at the absence of your bra.

He pressed a tender kiss to the side of your neck before helping you pull off your shirt. Mingyu’s face was set in a grin before his smile slowly fell, replaced by a look of utter confusion. His brows were pulled together in perplexion as he stared at your tits.

Or, more specifically, the pasties over your nipples.

“Oh, my bad,” you said, unfazed, “I forgot I still had those on.”

“What is it?”

“Seriously? You’ve never seen a nipple cover?” you asked, making your best friend yelp when you peeled the adhesive off your skin. Mingyu shrunk back with a wince before you placed the silicone in his hand. “It doesn’t bite.”

He weighed it in his palm carefully before placing it on his bedside table. “Looks like a chicken breast.” Then, he looked back at your tits. Instead of bedroom eyes, there was genuine concern in his gaze. “It didn’t hurt when you ripped it off, right?”

You stifled a laugh. “No, it didn’t hurt. My boobs are all good.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast for good measure. He squeezed experimentally, but you were certain he was just still in shock over the nipple cover. This would normally be when you shrunk in on yourself, but Mingyu discovering the existence of pasties was far too entertaining for you to shy away.

“Good,” he said before he sighed, a little too dreamy to convince you that this was purely platonic. The lighthearted moment settled back into tension. Barely loud enough for you to hear, Mingyu murmured, “You’re so pretty like this.”

You wondered if your eyes were as big as they felt. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You don’t?” He frowned, as if he was offended that you weren’t seeing what he was. “I think you’re beautiful.”

He said it before, but you thought it was just a pet name because he was in the mood. Now that he was saying it so sincerely, looking at you like you were his entire world, you felt like you had turned into putty in his hold. Your nerves were practically on fire under your skin.

“You’re sure about this, right?” he asked again, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. When you nodded, he readjusted his position so that he was underneath you, moving your hips so that you were sitting on top of him. “Just let me know if you wanna stop.”

“It’s your first time, too,” you said softly, reaching out to trace his jawline. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting.” He smiled before pulling you down for another long kiss.

He kissed you for what seemed like ages, running his hands all over your body and teasing you with kisses to your neck and jawline when he pulled away. While he was getting a condom from his nightstand, you wondered how you could ever get enough of him if this was what sleeping with Kim Mingyu was like.

While you both were a mess of limbs, you managed to remove every article of clothing from each other until your bare bodies were pressed against each other. He tore the silver wrapping of the condom off to slide the lubricated rubber over his cock. Of course you had seen him naked before, but you still couldn’t get over how wonderfully sculpted his body was. He had to have been blessed by a Greek god.

Mingyu held you close to his chest, his eyes raking your body again and again until you felt weak in the knees. When he hovered over you, lining up his cock with your soaked cunt, you had to swallow down your anxiousness.

Questions billowed in your head, floating about until they turned into butterflies and flew straight to your gut. What if he didn’t fit? What if you couldn’t take all of him in? What if it hurt?

But Mingyu had always been so reliable, so comforting. You felt safe in his arms, even if you had been working yourself up over this very act for years. You wanted to be brave for him.

“Are you ready?” he asked once more—just to be safe because he was right there. This was your last chance to back out and he wanted to make sure you truly wanted this.

You nodded with firm self-assurance. “Yeah, I am.”

“Okay, bear with me here,” he replied, the tips of his ears going pink as he tried to laugh off his awkwardness. “I’ve never exactly done this before.”

You laughed. “Me neither. We can figure it out together.”

His lips tugged into a small smile. Mingyu leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he tried pushing his cock into you, guiding it with his entrance. It took him a few tries to work the head in without accidentally slipping out. The first stretch you felt wasn’t painful, but there was mild discomfort that you pushed down.

But then Mingyu couldn’t push into you any further. Your excitement fizzled and your emotions were swinging dangerously into a pit of worries.

Your best friend was a problem-solver, though. He hummed inquisitively before repositioning himself at your entrance.

“Wrap your legs around my hips,” he instructed. “I think that’ll be easier for you.”

You did as he said, tucking your legs around his hips and hooking your ankles together. Your arms hung loosely around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair and twirling them around your fingers. You bucked your hips up once to indicate you were ready, not realizing that it would make Mingyu grunt instead. You could feel your core pulsing from how badly you needed him.

After sucking in a shaky breath, Mingyu started pushing into you once more. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip inside, finally pushing the head of his cock past your folds. You cried out, tightening your grip on Mingyu as you adjusted to his size. You hadn’t even gotten his full cock in you yet.

Mingyu eased his way inside you for what seemed like ever. He didn’t care about how long he was taking or if he was getting impatient; he calmly took the time to work his cock into you. The long vein that ran down his length made you shudder as it brushed against your walls.

“That feel good?” he rasped, looking into your eyes for any signs of pain.

You nodded eagerly. “Y-yes! Please keep going.”

Your body was hot. Feverish. It felt like your pleasure was building up slowly—a dull ache at your core that grew as Mingyu pushed deeper inside you. He lowered his head to kiss your neck at the same time, nipping and sucking at your tender flesh while you moaned and writhed under him.

Finally—finally, finally, finally—Mingyu’s hips pressed flush against yours and you bit down on your lip to keep yourself from screaming out. The pain was sharp, almost dizzying, but after Mingyu held you and kissed you all over until you relaxed, you felt it subside slowly. He sighed happily, bucking into you slightly to feel how deep he was. You buried your face into his chest once you felt the room going a little fuzzy.

Aching, gnawing pain.

Deeper and deeper, but the pain built with each push into you. One certain thrust made you feel as though you hit a peak, but then you felt yourself coming down. You closed your eyes through it, taking deep breaths until the pain had mostly alleviated, a new feeling of pleasure rushing through your body.  

He didn’t say anything for a long while, just letting you take things at your own pace. It was only until you begged him to move that Mingyu complied and started moving his hips.

With an experimental, shallow thrust, you let out a whimper and let one of your legs unhook from the other, letting it lay on the bed instead. Mingyu held your other hip up and started thrusting slowly into you, making sure to keep his pace exact so that he didn’t slip out again. Your pleasure was building up fast, like a spell of vertigo that left your head spinning and your body flushed.

“F-feels so good, Gyu,” you cried out, and then you couldn’t say anything at all once his tongue pried its way into your mouth. His lips slotted against yours perfectly, like both of your lips had been specifically molded to fit each other’s.

He thrusted deeper. Some of his thrusts hit that golden spot inside you that made your world turn blinding white. You were dangerously close to an orgasm with how good he was making you feel.

Mingyu sped up his thrusts, holding your hips and dragging his lips across your skin to leave love bites along your collarbone and shoulders. With the way he shifted your hips to pound in at a better angle had your legs shaking and your eyes rolling back into your head. You were far too sensitive to last long, especially since this was your first time experiencing such pleasure.

Realizing that your muscles had started involuntarily twitching, Mingyu thrusted into you deeper and caged you in his grip. You were teetering on the precipice of a release, holding onto his strong arms for leverage—something to ground yourself while you about to dive into your own ecstasy.

The brute strength in his thrusts led you to falling over the edge, jolts of pleasure coursing through you as you chanted Mingyu’s name over and over again like a prayer. The force of your orgasm nearly knocked the wind out of you, making the world before you go blurry as Mingyu fucked you through your high.

You nearly didn’t register him moaning out, too, his lips framing your name as he came. It felt as if you had short-circuited, laying underneath him helplessly as you rode out your orgasm. The current tugged and swept you away, sending aftershocks of pleasure to your sore cunt.

You blinked twice to reorient yourself, coherence bleeding back into you. It was when Mingyu kissed your forehead that it finally clicked for you.

You finally lost your virginity.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your temple. “That was incredible.”

You nodded, dazed, about to thank him back before you noticed that something was running down your hip. You touched the liquid curiously, wondering if you had just been that overstimulated, but what you found on your fingertips was blood.

You shrieked.

“What happened?” he asked, eyes wide before he saw your hand. He chuckled lightly. “Oh, I see. This is normal after your first time; it’s no big deal.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

Mingyu didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, though; he was smiling delightedly while you were a panicked mess. Blood was gushing out of the very place Mingyu’s cock was buried, and you were humiliated because of your new position as Human Ketchup Bottle.

“Wow,” he cooed sarcastically, rubbing your hips gently, “it’s like you’re my personal little volcano.”

“Oh my god. Please shut the fuck up, Gyu.”

After helping clean you up and a few more sessions of you two gushing over how good your first time felt, you and Mingyu laid in bed together, side-by-side. He had gone on several tangents about how it was nice that you two didn’t feel awkward around each other and that he was almost worried because he heard a lot of horror stories about people’s first time.

Apparently, Vernon’s first time was quite unmemorable because it was a quickie in a hot tub. He had never considered the friction caused by the water being uncomfortable, so it wasn’t one for the books.

To your surprise, when Mingyu headed to the kitchen to get you some water, you felt strangely hollow. As your eyes grew unfocused, the ache from the penetration was more clear, and you started to feel a little empty.

No one ever talked about what happened after sex. No one ever talked about how, shortly following the aftermath of your first time when you were coming down from the dazzling glow of your orgasm, the only thing you could feel was overwhelming vulnerability.

It was like you had been flying up in the clouds, got too close to the sun, and dropped right into a void of sadness. You were bordering on a feeling of emptiness as you stared up at Mingyu’s popcorn ceiling.

Then, the bed dipped next to you. Mingyu came back with a glass of water for you and one of his sweaters—the black Ralph Lauren one his mom got him for his high school graduation. Yeah, he was definitely starting to outgrow it, but he kept it hung up in his closet, anyway. Something about it being sentimental to him.

“You good?” he asked in a gentle voice, setting the glass of water on the nightstand. He slid onto the mattress next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. “You look a little out of it.”

“I’m better now,” was all you said, smiling contently after placing your arm on top of his.

“Did something happen? Did I do something?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Mingyu how you were feeling; you just didn’t know how to. There was nothing he had done to upset you at all, and the night had been incredible. You were still over-the-moon from losing your virginity to your best friend. That was why the wave of sadness that hit you afterward was strange and foreign.

“No, no, it’s just…” You sighed. “I just felt really sad for a few seconds. Like, don’t get me wrong, that was the best feeling ever, but after you went to go get water and stuff, I just got really sad.”

Something flashed across Mingyu’s face. It was the look he always wore when he was correcting someone or explaining some nerdy bit of information he knew. You were anticipating him to go on some tangent about heightened emotions peaking during sex would lead to a crash—something along those lines.

But then, he simmered. His expression was immediately replaced with understanding as he squeezed you tighter. Mingyu must have known that you just wanted to be comforted, not talked to, so he just tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

You felt warmer. Safer.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked.

You sucked in a breath. “Much better.”

Somewhere between your mumbles and whispers of conversation, you and Mingyu ended up drifting asleep in each other’s arms.

It was around twilight when you woke up, dusky purple streaming through the windows and across Mingyu’s peaceful face as he was deep in slumber. You turned your gaze back up, staring at the chipped paint and grooves in the popcorn ceiling, feeling as if you were drowning in your own emotions.

The feeling settled in your chest. It was always there, like a dull ache, but now it was loud. Pounding.

You were in love with Kim Mingyu.

You ran into Ryujin later—much later. It was well after you went back to your apartment and had a meltdown over your newly-recognized feelings for your best friend.

After you talked yourself through your feelings for nearly an hour, you realized that you couldn’t handle this problem head-on. You needed the assistance of your favorite cookies and cream ice cream from Ben and Jerry’s, so you walked to the nearby grocery store in sweatpants and a jacket.

While you were trying to balance three tubs of ice cream in your arms, Ryujin happened to wander into the freezer section, looking mildly concerned at the sight of you. She was pushing a cart full of groceries with her glasses sitting low on her nose.

“Need any help there?” she asked, moving aside her bag of cilantro to make space for your ice cream.

“You were right,” you admitted, and you nearly sounded hysterical with how breathless and frazzled you were. “I’m in love with him.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“That explains the ice cream.”

“Totally overshot the much simpler feeling of just liking someone, or being attracted to someone,” you rambled, allowing her to take the tubs of ice cream from your hands. “It couldn’t even just be a silly little crush, either. I’m just… in love with him.”

“So, what’re you gonna do now?”

You paused. “Would it be reasonable for me to think about it after I see him again?”

“Reasonable? Absolutely not. Stupid? Probably.”

“Well, that’s what college is for, anyway.”

“I support you,” she started, “even if I think you’re a dumb bitch.”

“Thanks, Ryujin, I think.”

The golden rule about being in your twenties was that it was the prime time to be young, dumb, and make stupid decisions.

The stupid decision you settled on for today was inviting Mingyu over when you really should have been taking some time to figure out your feelings for him. You knew very well that this would fuck with your emotions, but you had to give in to your carnal desires. Now that Mingyu had relinquished you of your virgin title, you couldn’t get enough.

You had always wondered what it would be like when you finally lost your virginity. Part of you thought it would be some sort of final form that you would achieve, but it wasn’t exactly all that different. Society overvalued deflowerment, you figured, but there was something that rang true.

Your face glowed a little brighter. Whether that was because of your recent confidence boost or your post-sex elation, you weren’t sure.

But now, you were in a predicament: you wanted more. Naturally, that led you to calling Mingyu and subtly asking if he wanted to come over.

That was how you ended up with your chest pressed against the wall while Mingyu’s body was caging yours. His strong chest was against your sweat-beaded back, and you swore you could feel every muscle of his keeping you from budging. It took him a few valiant efforts to fit his cock inside of you, and you had to reposition yourself several times for him to find a good angle. Once he had slid into you with ease, though, he started thrusting into you with vigor, soft grunts falling from his perfect lips.

(You realized Mingyu wasn’t able to get enough of you, too. He walked in, exchanged a greeting and gave you an update on Wonwoo’s crabs before his rough hands were turning you around and holding you against the wall. While his lips worked on your neck, you managed to sputter out some nonsense about being happy for Wonwoo’s new crab, Clawmander.)

“You’re wet,” he observed, his tone frank and even.

“Excellent observation, Sherlock Holmes.” You managed to gasp out the words before Mingyu’s cock hit that perfect spot inside you that made your vision curl with darkness at the ends.

“Jesus,” he hissed, lips brushing against your left ear. You let out a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a moan while he used his free hand to rub your clit in torturous circles. “I didn’t think you’d get this worked up over me.”

You didn’t answer him. This wasn’t the right time or place for him to hear the true reason. Plus, you could hardly string any words together when he was making you feel so good.

“Don’t cum just yet,” he muttered, and you whined when his cock slid out of you. When you turned around to ask him what his deal was, Mingyu lifted you up effortlessly and carried you to your couch. He had you straddling him while his hands rested on your thighs. “I want you to ride me, beautiful.”

Intimidation settled in. Mingyu could see it in your eyes—the way they refocused and your gaze flitted around hesitantly.

And, because Mingyu was just a tenderhearted, loveable ray of sunshine, he added gently, “If you want to, of course.”

Your eyes went lust-lidded as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You just wanted to make him proud.

“Sit back,” you told him, and you lifted your hips so that you could sink down on his throbbing cock.

Mingyu sucked in a sharp breath, holding your hip with one hand and helping adjust his length with the other. You winced, still not used to the penetration, but the initial pain was less sharp than it was the first couple times. Once you felt the mild discomfort replaced with the hot pleasure you were chasing just minutes before, Mingyu helped you start moving your hips up and down on him. He let go of your hips to throw his head back and run his hands down his face, agonized that he couldn’t fuck into you himself.

You placed one hand on his chest and let your body hover over his as you fucked yourself on his cock. Then, Mingyu decided to pull you flush to his body and buck his hips up on his own. You cried out from feeling him deeper inside you, but then you were moaning into the curve of his neck.

“You feel so good around me,” he whispered into your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

You pulled back, still bouncing on his dick with spurts of clarity returning to you. You were still dazed from how good he felt inside you, but Mingyu’s words were trying to reel you back into proper coherence.

“H-how long?” you stuttered out.

Mingyu smirked up at you, but before the fluttery feeling returned to your chest, you were paralyzed with fear when you heard a loud knock followed by the door handle turning. Your oncoming orgasm came to a halt and dissipated immediately after.

You and Mingyu repelled like magnets; you winced as he practically manhandled you off his lap and scrambled away, so you pushed him off the couch as payback. You only had time to pull your blanket up to cover your bare chest before Soonyoung appeared in the doorway. Mingyu, butt naked, was perfectly facing the front door, and he could only cover his crotch with both hands in time.

Cue Soonyoung screaming, then Mingyu, then you.

For a few seconds, it was a perfect choir of discordant screeching.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” you yelled as Mingyu tried to duck out of the way. He eventually realized there was no immediate escape and just turned around, making Soonyoung sigh heavily and cover his eyes with his sleeve when he saw Mingyu’s ass on full display.

“Well, my… my Connect Fours—”

“You could’ve knocked!”

“You told me I could come over and pick them up!”

“You still could’ve knocked!”

“Don’t blame me; I am the victim here! Normally, you’re in here watching a rerun of Jersey Shore, so I wasn’t exactly thinking, ‘Oh, what if Y/N’s actually getting dicked down by Mingyu right now?’ No! Because no one tells me what’s going on anymore!” Soonyoung argued. “I just came here to get my Connect Fours, not for front row seats to the Magic Mingyu show!”

“I’m sorry.” You sent Mingyu an uneasy look, and then you grew more concerned as you watched him manage to awkwardly wrap most of his body with the white drapes at your windows. You turned back to Soonyoung. “You didn’t see too much, did you?”

“I just saw Mingyu’s asscheeks on full display!”

Mingyu pouted, taking great offense to Soonyoung’s panic. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Okay, I’d rather see your asscheeks, like, on purpose,” he replied, exasperated, “not like this! My eyes feel violated.”

“Soonyoung,” you whispered harshly, and, if looks could kill, you were sure your friend would be six feet under. You waved your hand, motioning for him to leave as the situation was becoming increasingly awkward. “I’ve only got ten of the boxes so far. I’ll text you when the rest come.”

“Right, right,” he mumbled, turning to grab the large package at your entryway. “I’ll just take this and go, then. Let me know when the rest come.”

You sighed. “Yeah, of course.”

“By the way, how big is Mingyu’s dick? He won’t tell us how—”

Mingyu, who looked horrified at this point, raised his voice so high that you nearly burst out laughing from how squeaky it sounded. “Can you leave already?!”

“Before I go,” he said, “I’ll see you guys at Kap Sig for the Beerlympics tomorrow, right?” After he was met by two piercing glares, your friend realized that this was probably not the time nor place for this conversation. “Sorry! Just text me if you decide to show up!”

Soonyoung closed the door behind him loudly to make it known that he had left, and you and Mingyu relaxed once he was finally gone.

“I’m gonna lock your door,” Mingyu started, all huffy and flushed with embarrassment, “and then we can get back to what we were doing.” While he was making sure your lock was secure and walked back, he kept lecturing, “You know, you should really keep your door locked all the time. You never know what’s going to happen.”

You heard him loud and clear, but your mind was still buzzing with questions from what he said before you two were walked in on. All you wanted to know was how long he had been waiting to sleep with you, and you were so curious that you weren’t even feeling humiliated anymore over Soonyoung nearly seeing you naked.

“How long have you been waiting?” you asked. When Mingyu only gave you a confused look, you clarified, “You said it earlier while I was on top of you.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck before his lips stretched into a smile. “How about this: I’ll tell you when you come to see my work in the gallery.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Fine, but I was gonna show up either way.”

“See, that’s what I like about you.” You were too busy blushing to notice that Mingyu had already made his way between your legs and was hovering over you. He peeled the blanket off from your body and put it over the head of your couch. Tapping your knee, he said, “Now, open up, beautiful. Since you were doing so good for me, I’ll make it up to you.”

It was the next day around noon, and the remaining ten boxes of Connect Fours arrived at your door in another giant package. You texted Soonyoung that he could come pick them up (and wait for you to open the door).

You still hadn’t cleared things up from yesterday when he walked in on you and Mingyu, so you weren’t sure how to look him in the eye without feeling absolute shame. Not only that, but the guilt from your lie had been swirling in your chest constantly now that you were hit with the reality that Soonyoung had already perceived your strange friends with benefits relationship with Mingyu.

After you spent practically the entire day with Mingyu yesterday, even driving him to 7-Eleven for munchies at 3 a.m., you ended up getting the green light from him to tell Soonyoung everything. He knew that the guilt was weighing on your chest, and you both concurred that you would feel much better after coming clean.

After all, Soonyoung was one of your best friends, and you didn’t want him to keep deceiving him, no matter how big or insignificant your lie was to him.

When Soonyoung arrived at your door, making sure to knock three times, he greeted you with his usual cheery smile.

“Hey,” he said with an awkward edge to his voice. “Proud of me? I knocked this time.”

You went over this conversation about a million times in your head, thinking of different possible scenarios and outcomes that could happen. For each one, though, there was no eloquent way to bring up your lie without you sounding like you were overcompensating by rambling.

Just rip the bandage off, you told yourself.

It was hard to find the words, though, and your brain couldn’t figure out how to smoothly deliver the news.

Soonyoung looked like he didn’t know what to do, considering you had been staring blankly at him for several seconds without saying anything. “Is this a bad time?” he asked after a pause.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I have something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

You gestured for him to come inside, and Soonyoung took off his shoes before walking into your apartment. You felt yourself flush when he intentionally avoided sitting on your couch and just stood between your hallway and living room.

Soonyoung liked to joke around most of the time, but even he could tell that you were trying to bring up something serious. His arms were folded across his chest, the bewilderment in his eyes coalescing into sympathy. You intended for this to be honest, clear communication, but your breath was getting short and your eyes were darting to your feet before you could even get the words out.

This was deeper than your lie. You could admit that you were a liar, but something inside you withered at the very thought of admitting that there was something going on between you and Mingyu. Something that crossed the line of platonic friendship but kept its distance from romance.

So, before anything else, you blurted out, “I lied about being a virgin. Mingyu and I didn’t have sex.”

Your voice was thick with emotion. For a moment, your friend just stared at you, unblinking.

“Huh?” He sounded utterly confused as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to make things awkward and bring it up, but didn’t I walk in on you and Mingyu yesterday?”

“No, I’m talking about the time I told you I had sex with Mingyu.”

“In the library?”

“Yes.”

“So you guys didn’t have sex?”

“Well, technically we did, but—”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Soonyoung said, pausing before he continued, “so, you’re a virgin?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I was a virgin, but now I’m not. The timeline got fucked.”

“Wait, so, you were a virgin when you told me you weren’t a virgin,” he recounted, to which you nodded in response, and you could tell a few of the pieces in his head fit together when he finished, “and then you lost your virginity.” You nodded again to affirm his statement and your friend let a low-pitched whistle slip. “Wow, that is some crazy lore.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you asked, “Are you mad that I lied to you guys?”

“Mad? No way,” he said. “Like, sure, I don’t really understand why you lied. I guess you had your own reasons. It’s not like it’s a bad thing to be a virgin. There’s no way I’d be mad over something like that, though.”

“I was worried because I thought you hated liars,” you explained, and although you didn’t mention his ex-girlfriend, it seemed as though Soonyoung knew exactly what you were talking about.

“I care about lies that hurt, and, hey, you told me eventually,” he said. “I’m not gonna hold it against you for not telling me about something you weren’t ready to share.”

He worried at his lower lip before adding, “You didn’t lose it to Mingyu because of what I said, right?”

You felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, and your breathing steadied. You didn’t even realize how fast your heart was beating until you could feel every muscle in your body relax.

“No, of course not.” You finally cracked a smile. “To be honest, when you guys grilled us about it in the library, it did set things in motion. I don’t regret any of it, though—except lying to you guys about it. I’ve been wanting it to happen for a while now.”

“Good. You should probably tell the others when you’re ready, too.” He gave you a warm smile before amusement seeped back into his eyes. He turned to pick up the large package of Connect Fours and said, “Congrats to you and Mingyu, by the way. I always knew you two would get together.”

You nearly got whiplash from how fast you turned your neck. “Soonyoung—what?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s been crazy for you ever since freshman year. I figured he would eventually grow a pair and ask you out,” he elaborated. Once Soonyoung hoisted the box up and turned around to look at you, he froze when he saw the dumbfounded look on your face. “Oh, shit. You’re not dating him, are you?”

“No, Soonyoung. No, I’m not.”

“Oh… my bad.”

Around twenty minutes after Soonyoung’s slip-up, you decided you would go with him to Kappa Sigma’s “Beerlympics,” which you hadn’t exactly been banking on showing up to. When you were informed about it yesterday, you had to research online to make sure that no, Soonyoung wasn’t speaking some alien language.

You never really understood half the things Soonyoung and Jungwoo talked about in relation to their fraternity. It usually went in one ear and out the other. It was always something about chapter meetings, pledges, and the sort of nonsense that made you wonder if you two were even living in the same world.

Before you decided to go, Soonyoung had to guide you to the couch to sit down and process your thoughts, which you figured was a great feat for him considering he was still traumatized from walking in on you and Mingyu.

Even after you stared blankly at the wall, though, you still couldn’t fathom the thought of Kim Mingyu liking you all these years. And, you didn’t outwardly admit it to Soonyoung, but the thought of your best friend liking you back made you inexplicably happy.

After you quickly changed into more appropriate clothing, Soonyoung and you walked over to frat row, passing by several large fraternity houses before arriving at the male-infested Beerlympics event. Your friend was still carrying his box of Connect Fours, which kept rattling as you two walked.

Yesterday, you were considering not going, mostly because you committed to going to Mingyu’s exhibition today, too. He had texted you the details, informing you that it would be early in the evening, so you weren’t going to spend longer than a few hours at Kappa Sigma.

Plus, now that Soonyoung had accidentally revealed the feelings Mingyu was harboring for you, confessing to him was weighing heavy on your mind. You desperately needed to tell your friends about your feelings before you ended up self-combusting.

In a matter of minutes, you were sitting between Vernon and Jungwoo on the couch, watching Minghao and Soonyoung shotgun a Coors Light. The box of Connect Fours was currently being used as a drink stand.

“You just came back from Vegas,” you told them, “and you’re already hosting a Beerlympics?”

“What did you expect us to do? We only drank hard alcohol in Vegas,” Jungwoo explained. “It’s only right that we come back and drink beer.”

You rolled your eyes, incredulous. “You guys can’t be serious.”

“By the way,” Vernon started, “is Mingyu coming? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“You went to the gym with him yesterday,” Minghao pointed out.

“And that was in the past.”

Soonyoung cleared his throat once he was done with his beer. “Speaking of Mingyu… Y/N has something to tell you guys.”

“Right.” You cleared your throat before announcing, “I’ve gathered you all here today because someone said something he wasn’t supposed to.”

“And that someone was me,” Soonyoung mumbled, dejected.

“Wait,” Jungwoo interrupted, “we need context.”

Although you talked to Minghao before about the pact between you and Mingyu, you still hadn’t explained the whole ordeal to Vernon, Jungwoo, and Soonyoung. As you rambled on about how Mingyu proposed the idea and you two started becoming friends with benefits, Soonyoung’s face fell more and more as he realized he had royally fucked up. Vernon, on the other hand, despite having been kept in the dark this entire time, kept a placid expression on his face while the other three boys lost their shit.

You went on to explain the whiteboard, the notebook, how scared you were about ruining your friendship with Mingyu, and how Soonyoung walked in on you two and accidentally revealed that Mingyu had been crushing on you for a while.

“There’s no way you actually wrote all that down on a whiteboard,” Soonyoung said with an incredulous laugh. When Minghao pointed out that your whiteboard (that you still hadn’t returned to the community room) was literally in the living room, your friend cried, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that!”

“Yeah, it was front and center when you walked in on Mingyu and I,” you said.

“To be fair, Mingyu’s ass was very distracting.”

You folded your arms across your chest, staring the four boys down. “Okay, well, that’s my side of what happened. It’s your turn to spill what you know.”

They all looked at each other warily before Vernon decided to break it down for you. He explained how Mingyu had been crushing on you ever since you two were in the same orientation group, and your breath caught in your throat because that was exactly when you also found him cute. Apparently, since you had become good friends with Soonyoung and Minghao shortly after (and later, their respective roommates: Jungwoo and Vernon), Mingyu didn’t try to read into your closeness too much.

All of the pieces were connecting in your head—all of the little moments and things he said that you brushed off as a coincidence. Every realization was like a firefly in your head, flickering and blinking under dim light until it shone bright and clear in total darkness.

Every time he called you beautiful. Every time he kissed you. Every time he looked at you like you were all he wanted.

Mingyu saying he wanted his first time to be with someone special wasn’t just a previous notion of his that he discarded once you two made the pact. You were the someone special he wanted to be with.

And god, if only he knew how badly you wanted to be with him right now.

“Alright, Y/N, do not tell Mingyu about any of this,” Soonyoung warned. “I’ve survived Jungwoo’s stupid ‘ecstasy water’—fuck you for that health violation of a drink, by the way—and I’m not letting Kim Mingyu be the reason why I end up six feet under.”

“I’m gonna have to tell him I found out from you, Soonyoung,” you argued. “There would literally be no other way for me to find out if it wasn’t from one of you guys.”

Vernon was quiet before he suggested, “What if we throw Jungwoo under the bus?”

“Yo, that’s hella smart,” Soonyoung praised before giving Vernon a high-five.

“I would prefer not to be thrown under the bus, thank you,” Jungwoo deadpanned.

“We are not throwing Jungwoo under the bus,” you agreed. “Besides, there’s been something that I’ve been thinking about for a while, too.” You paused to pour a shot for yourself, downing the contents of your red solo cup in one go. Wringing your hands together, you confessed, “I think I like Mingyu.”

“Oh, wow.” Jungwoo nearly choked over his words and held out his cup to you. “Pour me a shot, too. I’m gonna need it.”

Minghao decided to take over, asking, “As a person?”

“As a… man.”

“Well, men are people—sometimes.”

You groaned, unlacing your fingers to drop your face into your hands. You couldn’t believe you were saying this at the Kappa Sigma house, of all places.

“I—well, yeah, obviously. I just… okay, the point is, I sort of realized I really like him, and I was scared because I don’t know how this is gonna affect the group dynamic.” You felt your face growing hot as you talked about it, but you continued, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but what you guys just told me changes things, I think. I feel like I really need to tell him how I feel, if that’s okay with you guys.”

(You took another shot.)

You had never said the words out loud—not even to yourself. Your emotions felt more real now that they were out in the open for your friends to hear. Amidst all the booming music and drunken shouts in the house, your friends were silent.

“Why’re you asking us for permission?” Jungwoo finally spoke up. “We aren’t gonna be dicks and say you shouldn’t ask him out just so we can keep our friend group as it is. Just ask him out.”

(Another shot.)

“What he said,” Vernon agreed. “If Mingyu’s crush on you didn’t affect our friendship for four years and your crush on him didn’t make things weird, then I don’t see why you have to hide how you feel.”

(You gulped down your fourth shot.)

By the time Minghao started harping on about how you should be following your heart, you were starting to feel the alcohol settle. It ran through your veins, thick like molasses, until you felt sluggish. Then, spurred by your determination to confess your feelings, you rose up to your feet.

“I’m gonna do it,” you breathed out.

“When?” Soonyoung asked.

“Now.” You stopped to gather your belongings—your phone from the Connect Four box and your bag from the couch. “I’m gonna go see him.”

“Let’s call you an Uber,” Jungwoo said, and when he realized he was probably the most sober out of his friends, he dragged himself off the couch. Apparently, he was drinking in moderation after nearly getting alcohol poisoning in Vegas and dealing with a nasty hangover. “Okay, I’ll call you an Uber.”

Jungwoo walked you outside, waiting with you on the sidewalk until your Uber arrived. He recounted some of the highlights of his weekend in Vegas to you, and you listened intently even though you could feel your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You weren’t sure if it was because you were intoxicated or your nerves over potentially confessing your feelings to Mingyu.

When your Uber pulled into the driveway—a white SUV that was large enough for you to assume that Jungwoo accidentally booked an Uber XL.

As you were getting into the passenger’s seat, Jungwoo held the door open long enough to tell you, “Hey, I’ll let you in on a little secret: Mingyu never really cared for watching movies until he met you.”

While your Uber driver took you to your destination in silence, you were certain your heart was glowing brighter than any sunset out there.

The gallery was empty when you arrived—eerily quiet. A long, white table sat at the foyer where the front desk was. Plates of what you suspected had cookies on them were left littered with crumbs. The gallery assistant seated at the front desk must have been a student working part-time because her nose was buried in a textbook, hardly noticing you walking inside the building.

Your buzz was wearing off by now and your stomach had dropped in a deep pit when you realized that you were late. You swore you had timed it right. Mingyu told you to be there at 5 p.m., and yes, you were twenty minutes late, but you didn’t expect the whole venue to be cleared out.

Maybe everyone else was just late. That had to be it, right?

When you tried to look up Mingyu’s location on Find My Friends, he was miles away and looked as if he was on a trail.

You decided to call him, wondering why he hadn’t texted you yet. You were too disoriented in the car to give him a heads up, but he would normally text you, anyway.

After three rings, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Mingyu!” you cried in a hushed voice. “Am I late? Did you leave already? I can’t see anyone here.”

“Where?” he asked. “Uh, if you’re talking about Beerlympics, I didn’t go because I had a project due tonight.”

“No, the gallery. You said it started at five, right?”

Mingyu was silent for what seemed like forever before he stifled a laugh. “You mean the gallery opening tomorrow night?”

You had never sobered up so quickly.

While Mingyu was laughing at you on the other end of the line, you were pulling up your text messages to confirm that he had given you the wrong details. Instead, you were met with the horrifying realization that you just read the invite wrong.

“I mean, you can still see my work while you’re there,” he continued. “I think they’ve already switched out their old art.”

You groaned. “I’m so stupid.”

You roamed around the gallery as Mingyu told you about his day, looking at all of the art pieces that were submitted. After you took some pictures of various paintings and sculptures that were on display, your eyes fell upon a sunset photograph hung up on the wall.

The very photograph you came here for.

You had seen gorgeous sunsets before, but you had never seen pictures that did them any justice. What Mingyu had captured, though, was absolutely breathtaking.

Over the foliage, the sky was a wonderful blend of oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples. The great ball of light dipped below the horizon, peeking out just enough to see its wonderful color. The rays of sunlight reached out past the frame, illuminating the treetops and the current of water that ran to the side.

To the right, you saw Mingyu’s placard fixed to the wall, hanging proud next to its photograph.

Kim Mingyu You’re My Sunset 2023 The sun’s last kiss to the sky. If there’s a world where I can watch sunsets forever, I hope she’s there with me.

“—so I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get a C on the quiz because he made us write out our code on paper. My handwriting is dogshit, so I hope he has a fun time reading mine.” He trailed off when he realized you went silent on the other end. “Y/N?”

“Where are you?” you asked, a touch distracted as your eyes drank in the words etched onto the placard.

“Huh? I’m on that hiking trail near the freshman dorms,” he said. “I was gonna go watch the sunset, if you wanted to come see it with me.”

And because you were so helplessly in love with him, it was easier than breathing to say, “I’d love to watch the sunset with you.”

It took you one more Uber and forty minutes to find Mingyu where he was waiting for you. You told him not to walk all the way back down to meet you, so you made your journey to the top on your own. You were definitely not dressed for a hike, but sunset was coming soon and you didn’t have time to stop at your apartment to change.

You waved once you saw him, biting back your smile because you didn’t want to look overly-excited to see him. He had probably been outside for a while, judging by the sheen of sweat that made his biceps glisten under the setting sun.

“You made it just in time,” he said. “Sunset’s in a few.”

Your chest heaved as you recovered from your hike up. It had been ages since you worked out properly, so part of you was glad that you didn’t let Mingyu go back down and fetch you. You surely would have had to make him stop several times for you to take a breather.

He was sitting on a large, flat rock—so smooth that it was probably the perfect spot on the entire mountain to watch a sunset. Mingyu scooted over so that you had room and you sat down right next to him, knees knocking and shoulders brushing against his.

You had never seen anything as formidably beautiful as the view before you. The sun had started to dip below the horizon, glowing a spectacular orange. Muted colors of blue and gray vanished like a skip, blurring into colors more intense, more breathtaking. Oranges and yellows blend into the canvas of the sky, soon blending with pink and red hues that made the clouds look like the seventh heaven.

It felt like the sun was setting, calling the stars out just for you two. It cast its rays onto the lake below, leaving the surface glittering with millions of golden sparkles.

This was the sight that reminded Mingyu of you.

For a while, you two just watched the sky wordlessly until you started, “I saw your—”

“What if we watched the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe for our next marathon?” he asked at the same time, but his words were stronger—more purposeful—so you answered him instead.

“We still haven’t finished our Barbie marathon,” you said. “We’re still on Barbie and the Diamond Castle.”

“But… when we finish.”

You hummed. “How long does it take to finish all of the Marvel movies?”

You tried to mentally note down all of the titles you knew with the limited knowledge you had of the Marvel cinematography. You were pretty sure you watched a good amount of them—the big ones that broke records in theaters—but you never tried watching them in order.

“Seventy hours and forty-six minutes. I checked.”

“We’d be marathoning forever.”

He smiled. “It wouldn't be the end of the world if we marathoned forever.”

You laughed, loud and clear. It was almost ridiculous to think of you and Mingyu in your fifties, sitting on a couch and watching yet another movie marathon in the measly hours of free time you had between work and other responsibilities.

And then it hit you. Your heart jumped to your throat.

You and Mingyu, doing the same things you did now in your fifties. You and Mingyu, sitting on a couch and watching another marathon together. You and Mingyu, swamped with work and responsibilities but still spending time with each other amidst all that.

You and Mingyu.

Your lungs were trees and there was a forest fire. It tore its way through each leaf, each branch, and it felt like that fire would burn forever. Burn until the sky had no sun and the world was in ruins. You couldn’t think straight as your heart raced and your breath got caught in your throat.

“Forever?” you asked in a small voice.

Mingyu’s eyes softened, more sincere and longing in them. At this point, he had gone pink beneath his golden skin. He moved his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, but all you could focus on was how the last rays of the evening shone on your best friend’s face. He was painted with sunset.

“Yeah, forever,” he confirmed. “I guess this is my way of confessing, so… Y/N, my forever marathoner, my sunset, will you go out with me?”

You were choked up at what felt like the worst possible time to be malfunctioning. “Sunset—”

“You saw it, right? The dedication next to my sunset picture?” he asked. “You finally realized that I’ve been in love with you for the past four years?”

He said the words so casually, as if he was telling you the color of the sky. But you could feel the weight settle in—the years of longing and pining.

This time, instead of just craning your neck, you turned your whole body to face him. The way he looked at you sent butterflies to your stomach, but your eyebrows pulled into a frown. You were sure that you couldn’t have possibly let it slip to him that Soonyoung told you everything.

“How did you… how did you know?”

He grinned, leaning back a little on his hands. “Before you got here, Soonyoung drunk FaceTimed me and started apologizing for exposing my four-year crush on you. He also apologized for assuming that I had the balls to ask you out.”

You scoffed a little, recalling how Soonyoung was practically begging you not to tell Mingyu yourself. It only made sense that he would be the one to fess up after all that alcohol got into his system. You made a mental note to call him out on this very moment the next time you saw him.

“Things get messy when someone likes someone else in the friend group, you know?” he continued, looking over the cliffside for a moment before turning back to you. “But, with you, I don’t think I mind things getting a little messy.”

“Do you remember when Jungwoo told you I found you cute, and I told him I really said something else?” he went on, turning his head away this time. He sounded more shy when he admitted, “Beautiful. I called you beautiful.”

“I just…” You faltered, trying to work up the courage to look him in the eye. When you did, the melted amber swirling in his eyes nearly made you stammer. “I didn’t expect any of this.”

Mingyu must have mistook your nerves for hesitation because he immediately said, “It’s all good, Y/N. I just wanted to come clean to you. You don’t have to answer—”

“No, Mingyu,” you cut him off, breathing out the words with an edge of desperation, “I didn’t expect this because I came here to ask you out.”

It was his turn to be shell-shocked. Mingyu’s pink lips parted in surprise, mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something, but he clearly hadn’t even thought of this outcome. You watched his Adam’s apple bob nervously.

He looked at your lips, then your eyes, then your lips again. He lifted his hand to touch your cheek, fingers spreading so that he could cradle your jaw. He looked transfixed, looking at you like you were far more captivating than the sunset that was playing out for you two. His eyes fluttered shut once he closed the distance and his lips met yours.

If you were his sunset, Mingyu was your sunrise. Every time he kissed or touched you, you felt warmth spread through your whole body, making you beam brighter than any star in the galaxy.

He pulled back, but he was still so close that his nose was touching yours, both of your ragged, uneven breaths mixing in the tight space between you two. He held the back of your head and pressed your foreheads together, a gesture of his that always made you feel like you were soaring.

Your voice failed you as Mingyu’s calloused hands bunched up the fabric of your shirt to glide down your back, tracing the bumps down your spine and gripping tighter once he reached your hips. It was like he was charting a map of your body, taking note of every little curve and dip he came across.

“W-we’re outside,” you stuttered out.

“No one’s gonna catch us. I wanna show you how I feel every time I look at you,” he murmured in a low voice that only you could hear. “Lay down for me, Y/N. I want you to watch the last of the sunset while I show you how much I love you.”

You didn’t reply, mostly because you wanted to let your actions speak for you. You pulled him in for a short, chaste kiss before you scooted up on the rock and laid down for him. The solid surface was uncomfortable at first, but then Mingyu had you get up for a moment so that he could spread his jacket out for you. You laid back down and looked up, gasping when you realized you had a perfect view of the setting sun.

Mingyu tugged down your shorts and underwear, making sure to carefully fold them and set them aside instead of just discarding them somewhere. Now that you could feel the coolness against your bare skin, you were grateful that his jacket was under you. He pulled his sweatpants down past his hips and hovered over you, eyes flickering up to meet yours. They were hazy, swimming with lust, but you could see his sincere adoration, too. He refused to kiss you because he didn’t want to obstruct your view of the sunset.

“Are you ready?” he asked, lifting his middle and ring finger to his lips and licking them for extra lubrication.

You sucked in a sharp breath at that. “Please—yes.”

Slowly, Mingyu pushed his fingers inside of you, watching you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut with an amused half-smile. His thumb worked slow circles on your clit while his fingers were nestled in you.

“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he instructed. “You’re gonna miss the sunset.”

Finding a steady pace was no problem for Mingyu at all. He watched you squirm and moan underneath him as his fingers slid in and out of your cunt. His knuckles were glistening with your arousal, and Mingyu stared at where they disappeared inside you with unfocused eyes. He curled his fingers inside you ever-so-slightly, passing over your g-spot, and you arched your back at the feeling.  

His name stuttered past your lips, coming out so raw and passionate that all the blood rushed to Mingyu’s cock. His boxers were tented, and you were once again intimidated by how huge he was. His bulge brushed against your thigh as he plunged his fingers into you.

You felt limp under his touch, but just when you felt prickles of heat under your skin, Mingyu’s fingers slid out of you. You nearly cried out over his false promise of a release as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

“The sky,” he whispered. Like it was instinct, he licked his fingers clean without batting an eye. An embarrassed rush of heat sank into your cheeks. “I need to be inside you for the rest of the sunset. Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely. “That’s okay. You can just pull out.” You looked straight into his eyes and said, “I trust you, Gyu.”

“Go raw? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we can just get Plan B tomorrow, if anything.”

Kim Mingyu looked like he could die a happy man then and there.

He tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring up and slap the underside of his belly. It was already huge and flushed with beads of precum collecting at his slit. Mingyu shuddered almost immediately when the cool air hit him.

He spread your legs with his large hands, and you swallowed thickly before Mingyu started rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He made sure to smear the arousal between your legs to your clit. The last rays of the sun shone on his face, and you could see the glint of hunger in his eyes.

At this point, you were nearly begging for him, so Mingyu started pushing into you carefully. His brows were pinched and his bottom lip was sucked into his teeth while he worked his way into you, his eyes glinting with utter focus.

It was so different without the condom. Intense. Hot. The drag of his cock inside you made you falter, absolutely loving the new friction and texture you were feeling.

You swallowed down your gasp with a shuddering breath. Your tight expression slowly relaxed as Mingyu’s cock worked its way inside you. Every time you wanted to close your eyes, you snapped them back open to catch a glimpse of the blurry hues above.

“That’s it,” he cooed, the praise only turning you on more. “You feel so good.”

He started circling your clit with his thumb again, getting your walls to relax so that you immediately took more of him in. Mingyu’s cock twitched inside of you, causing that one muscle in your leg to twitch. You weren’t sure how long you were going to be able to last if he kept teasing you like this.

When his head dipped into your opening, you sucked in a breath, but he did not enter just yet. Your hips bucked up against his, and Mingyu held them down so that he could position himself without slipping out of you. A sound that was between a deep chuckle and a grunt rumbled in his chest at your eagerness.

With little preamble, Mingyu started pushing deeper into you, letting himself sink while his breathing grew short. His cock brushed sensitive spots inside you that left your toes curling and your vision going blotchy. You watched the sky grow darker and darker, vibrant orange colors blending into deep reds.

A debauched moan bubbled past your lips once Mingyu started fucking into you slowly. Each roll of his hips brought a blinding wave of pleasure that left behind a sheen of sweat coating your body. The initial sting of penetration dissolved quickly into pleasure.

You dragged your nails down his well-defined back muscles, sighing blissfully with each thrust of Mingyu’s hips. His back muscles flexed underneath your hand as his cock worked in and out of you. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck and moaned along with you, and the look in his eyes told you that all he wanted to do was kiss you, but he was adamant on making you see the sun.

“Oh my god!” you cried out once Mingyu used his free hand to lift your leg over his hip, getting a better angle so that he could plunge into you. Blinking away tears, you were nearly sobbing when you said, “I… I didn’t say it back, Gyu. I love you, too. God, I’ve loved you back for so long, too.”

All the lust in Mingyu’s gaze had melted away, being replaced by the most loving gaze you had seen in his shining eyes. He leaned down to kiss you slow—a completely different pace from how he had been fucking you. When he pulled away, he kept his lips at the shell of your ear, whispering sweet nothings.

With his hips snapping into you at a near-animalistic pace, you were quickly reaching your peak. Mingyu seemed to take notice and rubbed your clit faster to catch you up to speed. Heat spread under your skin, making each nerve ending feel like it was on fire.

“There,” he gasped out after he turned his gaze up for a moment. “Do you see it? The sun kissing the sky?”

He had been waiting so long for you, pining so hard, that when your orgasm ripped through you, Mingyu came almost immediately after. He groaned before pulling out of you, his strained expression melting quickly into bliss once his release came. It seemed as though Mingyu didn’t want to get you dirty, so he shot his load to the side where he could hide it easily.

You looked up, and you finally saw how devastatingly beautiful the sunset was with its palette of colors exploding across the sky.

Reds. Oranges. Dying glimpses of yellows. You felt like you were experiencing a sensory overload with how the colors mixed and blended together while Mingyu was helping you ride out your orgasm.

This was it. This was the seventh heaven.

While you were still twitching from your intense orgasm, Mingyu sat up so that he could fix his pants, his chest rising and falling in tune with yours. You were still sprawled out on the rock, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon. The previously colorful sky had been drowned out by black and blue, but it was still bright enough to make out your surroundings.

“I never answered you properly,” you said after you caught your breath. The clouds rolled out of view, revealing the illuminated moon that shone down on you two. You sat up, meeting Mingyu’s curious gaze and declaring, “I’d love to go out with you.”

You had never really been able to fully understand what love was. It had been a foreign concept to you for years. When Mingyu smiled brightly and kissed you again, though, it had never been so clear to you.

You honestly felt bad for the librarian.

As soon as you and Mingyu walked into the library hand-in-hand, you heard a chorus of groans from your friend group’s table. They were all jeering at you like they hadn’t been the ones convincing you to ask out Mingyu a few days ago. This time, Ryujin was also mocking you with them.

(You had asked her to show up so that you could give her the Smiski figurine she had delivered to your house. You had no idea why your friends kept ordering things and using your address for delivery.)

Soonyoung cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, “Get a room!”

“We’re just holding hands!” Mingyu exclaimed. “You’re acting like we’re in the Victorian ages.” He waved his hand to get Soonyoung to move. “Give me some room so we can work on our project together.”

You giggled and took your seat next to Mingyu, your pinkies interlocked under the table. You were sure the honeymoon phase would wear off in a few months, but for now, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Of course, you kept most of your PDA behind closed doors so that your friends would taunt you, but you were happy with that.

Speaking of your friends, they were all over-the-moon when you and Mingyu announced that you were dating. Ryujin had screamed into your ear so loudly that you were pretty sure you experienced temporary hearing loss.

You and Mingyu also finally returned the whiteboard to the community room after erasing all of the sexual terminology on it. You two were surprised that you actually managed to knock out everything on both lists that hadn’t been canceled. Apparently, Jeonghan had been distressed over the whiteboard’s disappearance and filed a complaint to get a new one. He got his happy ending, too, when you and Mingyu rolled it back into the room.

“Y/N, Mingyu,” Jungwoo called. “Body counts—go!”

Mingyu blinked. “One?” he deadpanned. “Why would it be higher than that, dude?”

It was your turn now, with all eyes on you. Before, you wondered why you even felt the need to lie about something like that. It had all seemed like such a silly concern back then, but now you realized that there had never been a rush to lose your v-card.

Now, you could confidently say, “One.”

Because Kim Mingyu’s Guide To Losing Your Virginity really was effective.

mingyu: hey mingyu: what happens when we finish the marvel marathon

y/n: wdym

mingyu: like what do we do with our lives mingyu: 70 hours and 46 minutes mingyu: it has to end eventually mingyu: we’ve been marathoning all this time with no foreseeable end until now

y/n: what did we do before the marvel marathon

mingyu: the barbie marathon

y/n: and what did we do before that

mingyu: the disney princesses marathon

y/n: and before that

mingyu: the saw marathon

y/n: exactly y/n: we will keep marathoning for as long as marathons exist

mingyu: is that your way of saying we’re forever?

y/n: yes it is

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ if you made it all the way to the end, MUAH! thank you so much for reading !! and thank you to everyone who asked to be on the tag list, i was so floored by the love you guys showed the teaser ♡ first and foremost, i have to shoutout fia for being the reason i changed my magic mike joke to magic mingyu. i would also like to shoutout mingyu for existing because his existence is the reason why this came into fruition. also shoutout to you for reading this because wow!!! you sat through all those words??? i am so honored, really :’) i hope you enjoyed this, thank you for being on this rollercoaster with me, and i hope you look forward to my future works

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[mggslover]

Through thin walls

In which Spencer finds solace in the sounds of his new neighbor.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: perv!spence, mutual masturbation Word count: 1,7k A/n: i wanted to write a smut with a more sensual, almost poetic approach?? let me know what you think of it bc i truly don’t know how to feel about it… also tell me if you'd be interested in a part two where they would meet!

Spencer wasn’t one to find much solace in sleep.

Once, it had offered him comfort, a refuge where he could momentarily let go of his worries. But that was before his dreams started to haunt him. He was often praised for his eidetic memory, but what people failed to consider was that it also meant remembering your worst memories in precise, vivid detail. 

Of course Spencer was aware of how crucial sleep was, how sleep deprivation could wear a person down to the point of breaking them. But when sleep was the very thing that tore at him, what good was it? He did try to rest—clinging to the rare moments on the jet, where the hum of the engines and the presence of the team offered a shield against the nightmares that awaited him. But in the stillness of his own bed, the darkness pressed in, suffocating him until sleep became a burden he couldn’t bear.

When Spencer prepared for another attempt at sleep, he braced himself for the familiar routine: tossing and turning in tangled sheets, silently reciting The Parliament of Fowls in a desperate effort to reclaim the peace it once gave him—back when his mother would read it to him as a child. He’d pace to the kitchen for a warm glass of milk, anything to calm his restless mind, only for the alarm to blare the moment his head hit the pillow.

What he didn’t expect, though, was to hear a sound from the other side of the wall.

Soft at first, like it was testing the air—a breath, a hum, something faint but undeniably there. Spencer sat up against the headboard, his face turned toward the shared wall. The walls in his apartment were thin, but he hadn’t heard anything from next door in ages, not since his neighbor had moved out.

He waited patiently, listening, and then—there it was again. A faint gasp followed by a low moan. Spencer’s breath hitched as he made out that the sound came from a woman. He tensed, his mind immediately jumping to conclusions. Was she hurt? His pulse quickened. The moan was deeper this time, echoed by a soft, shaky exhale. 

He pressed his ear closer to the wall, straining to make out the sounds. A faint shuffle of movement reached him next, followed by a distant buzzing. Was someone else with her? His thoughts raced as he waited, not sure whether to jump to action. 

The sounds didn’t stop. In fact, they seemed to intensify, morphing into a rhythmic string of moans, sounding almost…sensual. 

Spencer sat frozen as the realization hit him. His stomach fluttered, a flush creeping up his neck and across his face as he struggled to grasp what was happening. He should turn away, should stop listening, but the sounds—her sounds—kept pulling him in. Her soft whimpers seemed to draw out something deep inside of him, an unfamiliar curiosity. 

Another moan sounded, higher pitched, followed by a low, drawn-out whine that made Spencer flinch. His eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to stop the flood of thoughts from rushing in, but it felt like his body was magnetized to the sound. There was nothing but that—the rasp of her breath, the unmistakable signs of pleasure seeping through the thin wall.

The sound of buzzing grew louder, and when a curse left the lips of the women next door, Spencer couldn’t help but let a deep groan escape from his throat. He quickly bit down on his lower lip, heart pounding in his chest. The sounds from the other side of the wall abruptly stopped, and for a moment, the silence was deafening. He held his breath, muscles tensed, every nerve on edge, waiting for what might come next. It felt like an eternity before the buzzing started again—this time softer, but still unmistakable. Spencer let out a long, shaky exhale, the weight in his chest lifting slightly.

Spencer was a firm believer of the mind having control over the body. He’s seen enough cases where people’s minds compelled them to commit horrific acts they wouldn’t have otherwise. In Spencer’s case he’d learned to ignore the nudges of his body, quickly pushing his desires aside as a mere biological function he shouldn’t linger on for too long. Maybe it was his lack of sleep, or the desperation for a change of routine—because this time around his body was getting the best of him. 

The tightness in his pants grew simultaneously with the pretty sounds next door. His hand clenched around the fabric of his sheets, but it didn’t stop the tension building inside of him. 

He tried to shift his focus back to something logical. Distracting himself by thinking back on his chemistry thesis on Dipole-Dipole forces, how simple the alignment of the polar molecules sounded, but how complex it actually is—how the bond isn’t as intense as with ions, but something that builds steadily over time, almost imperceptibly at first, until it becomes undeniable. 

As his mind went on thinking about the invisible, magnetic pull between the opposing charges, he couldn’t help but notice the similarities with the situation he was in. She, like a molecule with her own electric field, creating a captivating attraction, slowly drawing him in with every sweet sound that escaped her lips. He could only wonder what would happen the moment they would meet—if their charged particles aligned—how it could release something greater than either of them could anticipate.

He imagined the woman next door. He pictured her as a shadow first—a soft silhouette just beyond his reach, blurred by the apartment wall. But in his thoughts, the edges of her figure sharpened.

He wondered if she was touching herself, if her hands were trailing along her body in the same way he traced her in his mind. He wondered what her skin would feel like under his fingertips. Would it be soft, the kind that invited touch? Or would the gentle curve of her shoulders be warmer, more textured and defined? 

His hand moved without permission, fingers tracing his own jaw, his eyes fluttering close. His fingers brushed against his neck, leaving a trace of goosebumps in its wake. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to touch her there, to feel the pulse beneath her skin. 

Another moan slipped through the wall, soft and pleading. Would she react the same way if I touched her? The thought sent a jolt of heat through him. Spencer’s hand twitched as he unbuttoned the buttons of his shirt, his hand gliding over his bare chest. 

Each breath, each noise from her, felt like a thread pulling him closer to the edge, closer to her. His body moved on his own accord. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, and he’s hit with the sensation of warmth and need. 

He wondered if she knew how beautiful she sounded. If she was even aware of how loud she was. Or maybe she simply didn’t care. Maybe she liked how much she affected him with her whimpers and gasps. 

He imagined the way her body would move, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the delicate arch of her back as she gave herself over to the sensation. He could almost feel it—like a phantom touch—her skin against his, the way she would shudder beneath him, lost in the same heat he was drowning in now.

His hand drifted lower, unable to stop. He pictured pressing her body into the sheets, hearing her moan against his ear as he would lean in and hide his face into the crook of her neck. He wondered whether she would surrender herself to the pleasure or try gaining more by wrapping her legs around him, pulling him closer. Whether she would like him to take it slow, savoring every touch, or if she would want him to be rough, to make her feel an ecstasy she hasn’t experienced before. 

Another sharp gasp came from the other side of the wall. Spencer stifled a groan as his hand moved more urgently, guided by his growing pleasure. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus. Fully consumed by the thought of her—so close, yet still so out of reach. 

Spencer wasn’t sure where his sounds began and where hers ended. He was swallowed by the overwhelming sensation, his mind too hazy to make out the border between reality and his imagination. His grip on himself tightened, spurred on by her sounds that seemed to match his own rhythm. 

She had slipped so deeply into his mind that he could feel her, in every breath, in every shiver of his skin. Spencer felt it in his chest, the way his breath quickened, the way the pressure built. She had become more than just the sounds next door, more than a figment of his imagination. She had become a need. And in this moment, he had no choice but to follow where it led.

Her moans became more frequent. Spencer’s body responded instantly. His hand moved faster, drawn by the pulse of her release, feeling the way it thrummed through him as though they were one. 

He could almost see her—her legs writhing, her eyes closed, her lips parted in that delicate, breathless moan. His mind painted the picture so clearly, it felt as though she were right in front of him. 

Her release ignited his, a wave of heat rolled through him, pulling him under. His breath caught, his body shaking as he followed her, their climaxes crashing together—separate, yet so intimately tied.

As his breath slowed, Spencer lay still, his mind buzzing with the aftershocks of what had just happened. He could still hear her lingering moans in his mind, like a melody he couldn’t shake. His heartbeat, once frantic and wild, slowed to a steady rhythm. The air in the room felt lighter, less suffocating, the weight of longing finally lifted from his chest. 

The exhaustion that pressed down on him was different from the nights before. It wasn’t the weariness of a restless mind, of memories from the past gnawing at him. It was the deep, almost tender exhaustion that followed from his release. 

Tonight, there were no nightmares waiting at the edge of his consciousness. Just quiet. Just calm. Just her.

PART TWO

[leclarifies]

letters (MV33)

꒰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend! reader ꒱

synopsis┊it was confusing, even though you were continents apart, you never understood why max never responded to your letters, until you attend the belgium gp to finally get the answers you were looking for. inspired by the prompt, "why did you never reply to my letters?" "you wrote me letters?"

genre┊ fluffy, the fluffiest fluff i've ever fluffed.

word count┊ 4.4k

aria yaps┊ i have worked on this non-stop for two days, and i loved the way it turned out, maybe one of my favorite works. enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing this!!

SECOND PART

she was always around max, either from the sidelines or the first person max ran to when he won a race, it was always her. not even his father, even though he held his father to the highest regard, but it was always her.

the little wrinkles on the edge of her eyes when she smiled at him, the way her lips would curl up, or the way she would giggle every. single. time. that he would come and hug her after every race finish. he remembers it all. and the way he would snuggle his face in the crook of her neck and asked her softly after he would win a race, 'did you see me win, schatje?'

she would always smile back with a laugh, 'of course i did maxie.'

it was always about max, her life revolved around him, whether he liked it or not. she adored him and maybe he adored her a little bit more. they were childhood friends, they were inseparable since they were little babies, their mothers being friends made it even harder for the both of them to not be attached at the hip.

she loved being in his presence and he loved her.

the divorce between jos and sophie was hard on max, he blamed himself and his career but she was always there to tell him that it's not his fault. that their decision was their own and she never forgot to tell max that it wasn't his fault, no matter how much they told him that it was.

she saw the way jos had pushed max to his limits, get physical with his own son and his way of escaping that life was run to her arms, she was there tending to every bruise, every wound whether physical or emotional. she was his rock and it was final. nothing anyone could ever say or do would change his name.

"schatje," max had gently woken her up from her slumber, and she stirred awake from his soft voice, she noticed where she was and finally remembered what happened.

max had finished lower than expected and jos had thrown hurtful things about max, she was there on his mother's couch, comforting him and had fallen asleep that way, with max on her lap, "are you sleepy?"

she shook her head, not wanting to admit that yes, indeed she was sleepy, but if max needed comfort then that wasn't a big deal to her, "what's wrong maxie?"

"nothing, you can sleep on my bed if you're tired. i can sleep here," max had brushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear but she refused, she hated taking his bed because she knew how uncomfortable the couch was, she wanted him to sleep well.

but he wouldn't allow her to take the couch, so they both slept on sophie's couch almost cuddled with eachother because they were both stubborn.

max was necessarily content with how he was living his life right now, but she made it better and that's all he could ask for. was it her smile? maybe her presence? max didn't care. the first memory he could remember from his early childhood was her, and it was etched into his memory like stone.

she was content with being max's rock, she was there to keep him grounded and she too only had memories of him from her early childhood. she wouldn't replace him for the world, he was too precious for anything in this earthly world.

but there was one day, it felt like a bomb dropped on her. her father had told her that he would have to move to korea to continue work, and she didn't know how to break the news to max until a few days before she had to leave.

she knew it was wrong to keep something this big away from max, but she was so stricken with anxiety that she never got the chance to until max came over to her house and saw all the packed boxes with their belongings.

"why didn't you tell me sooner?" max was angry, she could tell, by the way he was pacing around her room, looking at the packed boxes around. max thought he meant more to her than just a measly friend, he felt frustrated— betrayed almost. why wouldn't she tell him? why would she keep something as big as this away from him?

"why didn't you say something before? why now? why before you could see me race this weekend?" max was raising his voice now, and she didn't know what to do. her eyes turned glassy and those doe eyes max loved so much just looked so sad.

she stayed quiet, a guilty look on her face. she knew max would break from the news, and she knew that it would affect his performance, but she didn't know how to stay, how to convince her father that she didn't want to go, so yet again, she stayed silent in important moments of her life.

"schatje, can you say something? say anything?!" max yelled and she flinches, she didn't know what to say or what to do, she wanted to say something, say anything. but nothing would come to her lips. it was so hard for her when he was angry like this, it reminded her of his father and his father was deathly scary when angry.

a sigh escapes max's lips when he sees her flinch, coming close to her to wrap her in a hug. tears escaped from her eyes as she held onto max tight, "i didn't know how to tell you," she whispers into max's ear but max didn't say anything to that, just held her even tighter and he did not want to let go.

"it's okay schatje, i'm not mad at you. i could never get mad at you, i'm sorry for raising my voice. i just don't want you to go," tears started to escape max's eyes too, he didn't want to see her go. he wanted her to stay, and she did too. but the universe was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

the ride to the airport was tough, being only fifteen and sixteen respectively. max held her hand the entire time, not wanting to let go, he didn't want her to leave, she was his biggest support system and he couldn't imagine her gone like that.

she was the most scared of the two of them, what if her father never returned to belgium? what if she was stuck there in korea forever? what if she never got to see his pretty blue eyes anymore?

max was the one to ground her, no longer lost in her thoughts, "can you promise me we'll keep in touch? or maybe visit from time to time?" max was holding onto her hands tightly, she felt like they would bruise, she could only smile and nod.

her mother had called her over, it was time to go. she looked at max for what it felt like the last time and left her life in belgium.

dear schatje,

hi, this is the first week that you're gone and it's bene been so hard without you here with me. i forgot that you weren't here anymore and i was expecting to see your face, but when i didn't, i may or may not have almost cried.

i miss you so much. tell me how it is in korea, is it cold? do they have bears there? what about the food? is it good? can you eat it? i heard there's a lot of spiy spicy food there? honestly i don't care about what they have there, i just care about you.

when can you visit again? can you tell me if you're ever coming back? i'm so worried about you there, i miss you... so much schatje.

written with a lot of love, your maxie.

max always handed off his letters to his father, telling his father to hand it off to his mother because apparently they kept in contact and wanted to send it off to the post office on behalf of him.

he just wondered how she was doing there.

it's been months and countless of letters max had sent, and none of them replied. he was starting to lose hope, he didn't want to think that his best friend would forget about him so easily like that, but he held out hope. he knew that she wouldn't magically forget about him now that she was there.

jealousy bubbled within him when he realized that she would be meeting new people, what if she met someone like him? who enjoyed karting and wanted to steal her attention?

no, he couldn't be thinking like that. he loved her and he knew she loved him as much as he did, so he told himself to just be patient, maybe letters to korea took months to reach?

the naviety was almost laughable but he was fine with it. he just wanted to hear back from his pretty girl.

"i do not understand why you keep writing letters to that stupid girl, she doesn't reply to you and all it does is distract you," jos had reprimanded his son, but max was stubborn. he didn't care what his father had to say, he loved all of her, even when she was thousands of kilometers away. he wanted to talk, even when she never replied.

max was in the process of writing another letter, but he never listened to his father, not about her. not about how much of a distraction she's been to his career, he didn't care. he used it as motivation to get better on the track, so the next time she saw him, he would be a world champion, that's what he silently promised to her.

it had been two years, and he hadn't heard a peep back. slowly, he was starting to lose hope but he couldn't lose hope, every single time he would send off the letters, he told himself that maybe it got lost in the mail.

max kept writing though.

max's debut in f1 was explosive to say the least, his interviews would absolutely go viral by the things he was saying in them. he didn't understand why, he just said what was on his mind.

what was truly on his mind was her.

was he not good enough for her? was him being in f1 not enough to impress her? why wouldn't she write back?

oh god how he missed her.

he still wrote to her weekly, it was religious at this point. he never forgot and he always told his father to send them off to his mother and the week after that was always disappointment because he wouldn't hear anything back.

little did he know, she never received those letters.

max had slowly stopped writing letters as he got into f1, he didn't see a point in it anymore. she never replied. she didn't care. letters didn't take years to reach korea, and he finally lost hope.

winning his first championship felt empty, the pretty girl who used to be waiting for him wasn't there for him anymore. of course, he was happy to win such an impressive feat, who wouldn't? but it just... lacked her.

max indeed lost hope that she would ever write back, but never lost hope that she was out there, somewhere, watching him race every single week and beat the shit out of his rivals. she loved watching him race and that's what he intended to do until the day he died, he wanted to impress her, maybe that was his ulterior motive to becoming a formula one driver.

all just to impress his best friend who had lost contact with him for a decade now.

"you need to stop figdeting so much," her mother had scolded her, she could only laugh nervously and stop fidgeting around. she wondered why max never wrote back to her, she had written him letters. did he hate her for moving out to korea and not coming to visit belgium?

she shook the thoughts out of her head, she was here now. for his home race, and for the rest of her life. her father had now decided to move back to belgium, because and i quote, 'i don't want my daughter to lose touch with her culture'.

she was 26 now, and she had guessed that he turned 27 not too long ago. it's been so long since she talked to him and she hoped that the spark that she had been yearning for had not been lost to the passages of time.

getting the paddock passes was not easy, it was a war and a half but she managed to snag some for herself and a friend that wanted to visit belgium and would arrive later on in the week.

"how did you even manage to get paddock passes for us?" heejin, her friend that wanted to visit had asked, she could only laugh and explain how she got them, it was a war and a half. heejin laughed along with her as they both arrived and scanned their passes at the entrance.

"i'm gonna meet my best friend here— well it's complicated. i don't think he considers me a best friend anymore, but i still do," she had softly told heejin who was a big formula one fan even before meeting her, heejin raised her eyebrow when she said that.

the both of them were walking down the paddock, passing all of the different team's hospitalities. heejin raised her eyebrow at her friend, who shrugged.

"who's your best friend?" heejin had asked as they pass by the red bull hospitality, she stopped which signalled heejin to stop as well, she looked at the redbull in awe. she hadn't been to a formula one race yet, the closest she'd been was to karting but that didn't bring on the feelings she felt when standing in front of this red bull building.

"well, he's driving the number one car."

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

max had heard a girl yell, he slowly turned his head. he was confused, he didn't have a best friend— well not anymore. she had moved to korea, all memories of her stuck in his head being replayed all over and over again.

that's all he had left of her.

the other girl shushed the girl who yelled, and that's when it dawned on max. the other girl looked awfully familiar, he couldn't quite place why she looked so familiar but she looked like her, like his best friend.

"shh! you can't just yell that out in public," she clamped a hand on her friend's mouth, "they're gonna think i'm insane!" then the both of them giggled, it did sound ridiculous but now he was curious.

was she back? was that her? who was she with? is that her new best friend? is that her?

as they both walked away, max wanted to run up to them, to ask that one particular girl what her name was. what she was doing here and who she was with but all of that died when he got approached by his race engineer.

then he forgot all about that familiar girl that he saw in front of the red bull hospitality.

max would only get another glimpse of her when it was race day, they were walking through the paddock in a similar fashion, but max promised to himself that he would approach them, that he would ask but there was doubt in his heart.

what if she forgot about him?

she couldn't, right?

and so approach them he did, tapping the girl that he felt was so familiar to on the shoulder, she had turned around and they had locked eyes.

it was as if she never left.

the sparks, they all came rushing back and then his heart started beating out of his chest, he wanted to ask so many questions, why she was here, who she was with, when she came back— why she came back, why she never wrote him back.

but the only thing that left his lips were a simple, "hi."

heejin was freaking out, she could tell. she knew that heejin was a big red bull fan too, always talking about how the team was dominating and they had the better car. she had heard all about it. but the little dutchboy she left all those years ago was standing in front of her and not-so little anymore and all those thoughts about her girlfriend was forgotten.

he looked the same, but grown and decked out in red bull merch. she wanted to laugh at how innocent he looked when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her to turn around, he looked stupid, stupidly cute.

all of those feelings from when she was back in belgium came back, she almost forgot what it felt like to be around max— her max. he looked like he was going to cry when he got a good look at her, that he finally realized that yes, it's her. the one that left him in belgium all those years ago.

and maybe she could cry too.

"maxie?" a familiar nickname slipped from her lips and she didn't get a response back, but a bear hug in return.

god, her scent. it was everything to him. he fucking missed it— miss her.

"i thought... i thought you forgot about me," max buried his face into the crook of her neck, she too wrapped her arms around max and buried her face into his chest. his voice was so vulnerable, all she wanted to do was curl around him and tell him that she would never.

she shook her head as she sank into the hug, "i could never forget my maxie," she mumbled into his chest, he held onto her tighter. he never wanted to let go, not now, not ever. she was where she was finally supposed to be, right in his arms.

once they got time alone after his race, max had stolen her away from her friend and dragged her into his driver's room, locking the door and pushing her against the wall, slamming his lips onto hers. he had been dreaming about this for so long, his lips on hers.

he didn't want to so sexual with her, no not yet. being in the small driver's room where they couldn't be free out of the public eye wasn't a good place. he just wanted to touch her, hold her, love her, make sure that she knew how much he had missed this.

missed them being together.

her hands instinctively went up to hold onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he kissed her softly. the feelings going through him were a mix of nostalgia, longing and love. he loved her for so long and it was so like her to show up when it mattered the most.

he won it for her today, to show her, that the little max she knew still had it in him to win and to impress her even with a world championship under his belt.

she felt the softness and the gentleness that max was touching her with, she knew how much he loved her. how much he care, how much he longed for her touch and she did too, only so much more.

she had so many questions in her, on why he never replied to the letters she sent or why he never sent any himself, not knowing what happened with her letters and why they never arrived properly.

but she didn't care at the moment, all she cared about was that she was safely in his arms, never to be let go ever again.

safe to say, her lips were to the point of bruising that night. max had forbade her to go back home, or to be away from his sight. he had kissed her silly, not wanting to let her go and there she was, settled nicely in his arms.

it's not like she wanted to go anywhere anyway.

the movie in the background was long forgotten, max's lips felt like they were molded for hers. he had waited for her for so long, waited to feel her skin after so long and this just felt right, it felt right when he was with her.

"maxie— mmhh— my love, stop," she had to talk in between kisses, max didn't want to let her go, his fingers were basically imprinted onto her waist. she was straddling max as he sat upright and kissed her, so softly. like she would break if he was any harder, even though he absolutely did want to kiss her harder.

max released her from the kiss with a pout, his pretty lips were red and swollen from all the kissing they did. everything in the world just seemed to fade into the background when they were together, like everyone else in this world was so insignificant for their time and they were the only people worthy of each other's time.

"but why? i wanna kiss you, i miss you. i have waited for you for ten years, the least you can do is let me kiss you until you're sick of me," max mumbled against her lips and all she could do was giggle.

god, her laugh, he loved it.

she shook her head and left a final peck on his lips, "because i want to talk maxie, we can't just kiss whatever questions we have for eachother away," she told him but he seemed to think otherwise, she had moved back to put a bit of distance in between them, to make sure max didn't go in to kiss her again.

"oh yes we can, i don't care about the questions, schatje. i just wanna be with you, just like old days, but now it's so different because in those ten years without you, i finally realized what i felt and how i felt for you and i can't wait any damn longer to finally kiss those pretty lips of yours, so please. just let me do this for another three hours and we can talk," max begged as he pulled her closer.

she couldn't imagine kissing for another three hours as they spent the last hour doing it, but with him? she would do it for another life-time if she could.

the both of them later had the serious talk when they were done kissing each other, now wanting answers from eachother. their legs were tangled and intertwined with each other's, not wanting to let go from their skin to skin contact.

"first off, why did you never reply to my letters? i wrote you so many. so many that i lost count, i would always write to you but you never replied, why?" max's voice came out strained, all of the painful feelings from the last ten years of his life were coming out, her doe eyes looked up from where she was, laying against his chest.

"you wrote me letters? i wrote you letters, you never replied. i thought you got too busy with your karting career to reply—"

"i could never get too busy to reply to you, but i never got any of your letters, schatje," max murmured against her forehead, kissing it gently after he spoke. she hummed a response before it dawned on her, she had always sent the letters to his father's address and she knew that his father wasn't fond of her, even offering her a huge lump sum of cash just for her to stay away from his son but she never accepted it, always choosing to be beside max, no matter what happened.

she looked up and sighed, she knew what happened now, she connected the pieces, "did you send your letters off to your dad?" she asked, and max nodded before it dawned on him too.

"that fucker hid the letters from you and never sent mine..."

she could only nod sadly, but it didn't matter now. all that mattered was that they were reconnected now.

scattered around them were the countless of letters max had written to her and all of the letters from her that he never received, the years of pining, longing— all of them tucked neatly away into these little envelopes that held all of those unsaid feelings.

a soft sigh escapes her lips, she looked at all of them, there were hundreds maybe. all of them posted to where she stayed in korea but never sent, always kept in a big box where all of his letters were and hers were stuffed in there in a similar fashion.

her heart clenched when she saw how many there were, there were far more many than whatever she sent, even though she did send quite a big sum.

when max had found out, he stormed into jos' house and demanded to ask why he never sent out the letters that he wrote and a big fight broke out, she had to hold of max from physically harming his own father. then they left after given the big box filled with letters.

"there's so many..." she watched in awe as all of them were sorted by date, from the latest to the earliest, max looked up at her with those big blue icy eyes of his, he looked really sad. stuck in his feelings almost, not understand why his father would do whatever he did in the past.

max held her hand gently, pulling her into his embrace, "i have always loved you, even when i was a little kid. i just didn't understand what those feelings were, i just acted on how i felt and being away from you... i just couldn't. so i sent you my love in the form of these letters."

she left a lingering kiss on his cheek, she felt sorry for having to leave all those years ago. she should've fought, should've stood her ground on how much she wanted to stay but she was just a 16 year old kid who didn't know how to, "i know. i'm sorry i had to leave all those years ago."

"don't apologize, schatje. i have never blamed you for leaving me. i have always held love for you in my heart, even if you didn't know it."

"i always knew max, and i still do."

very willing to do a part 2 to this btw, will only do it when requested tho. not proofread, excuse grammar mistakes.

[hoonatic]

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[voyter]

DEVOTION — jeon jungkook.

genre. a song of ice and fire au. 103 AC. smut. knight!jungkook. queen!reader.

your knight is completely devoted to you, and while it’s his duty, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more behind his unwavering loyalty.

word count. 17.1k words (FUCK i am so sorry) warnings. this fic might be a bit confusing if you havent watched game of thrones or house of the dragon !!! misogyny. gender dynamics. seokjin and namjoon cameo hehe. forced / arranged marriage. over protective jungkook <3. cute convo between oc and her husband. violence. mentions of blood and murder. SO MUCH FUCKING TENSION. smut. two sex scenes !! dry humping. oral (male!receiving). unprotected sex (this universe takes place thousands of years ago and condoms didnt exist yet give me a break). bath sex. they almost get caught OOP. cheating (but both parties are consenting and they both openly do it to each other but they dont love each other romantically so its okay i guess) ???? jungkook literally worships her oh im sick i need him.

ana's notes. this fic ended up being much longer than i anticipated but oh my gosh i literally could NOT STOP WRITING !!! this is the longest fic ive ever written hello. this is inspired by alicent and coles relationship in season 2. sorry i hate them but this trope ??? OUUU TOO GOOD. so you know i got inspired. anyways, i love this one so much, so please let me know your thoughts <3. as always, keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx

listening to. blue jeans by lana del rey / middle of the night by elley duhé / flawless by the neighbourhood

part of the based off film series. this one shot is based off house of the dragon.

You had always hated the idea of marrying someone you didn’t love, but you knew that marriage was not a choice — it was an obligation woven into the fabric of your destiny. Though reluctance filled you at first, you gradually came to terms with your duty, accepting the role thrust upon you with a measure of peace.

House Emberwyn ruled the Seven Kingdoms, making them the most powerful house of all. Your father had forged a deep bond with King Aelyx, the two men connected by the shared grief of losing their wives. Beyond their friendship, your father was adamant that uniting your houses through marriage was crucial. He envisioned a future where the intertwining of two powerful, wealthy legacies would forge an unbreakable realm.

Atticus, the son of King Aelyx, was only a year older than you — making him a suitable match. Like you, he was reluctant to marry, but he, too, understood the importance of duty. He wanted nothing more than to make his father proud, even if it meant sacrificing personal desire.

As the sole heirs of your respective houses, the pressure to produce children was immediate. The act of intimacy with Atticus was never one of passion or love; it was merely another duty. The first time was uncomfortable, almost unbearable, but over time, you learned to tolerate it. This was your life now, dictated by duty rather than desire.

Since your marriage, you have been blessed with three children. Ares, your eldest and only son, was conceived during your bedding ceremony. Now a boy of one and ten, he is wise beyond his years, his sharp mind driven by a deep love for books and knowledge. Celeste, your first daughter, is nine years old — a whirlwind of wild, unrestrained energy that seems impossible to contain. Already, she’s been eagerly awaiting the day she can take to the skies on dragonback, her spirit far older than her years. Then there is Luna, your youngest and newest addition to the family, a radiant little soul who brings warmth and light into every corner of your life. She is the calm of the storm, a small but powerful source of joy that never fails to lift your spirits, no matter how heavy the burdens of the day.

Atticus is a good father, never neglecting his children. He is present in their lives, providing for them with steadfast love and care. As a husband, he is kind and dutiful. Yet, despite all his virtues, he is not the love of your life.

The two of you had come to an agreement early in your marriage: you were free to seek pleasure where you wished, as long as heirs were made with each other. It was a compromise, one that allowed you both to navigate the confines of your duty while maintaining some semblance of personal freedom.

Tragedy struck shortly after Celeste’s birth when King Aelyx succumbed to an unknown illness. The crown passed to Atticus, and with it came the immense burden of ruling the Seven Kingdoms.

With Atticus as king, you became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, unlike your husband, you did not feel the same pressure. Your days were mostly spent within the confines of your chambers, where the laughter and antics of your children filled your life with light and purpose. Despite never having known your own mother — she had died giving birth to you — you felt as though motherhood had always been your calling.

While you wouldn’t trade your life for anything in the world, motherhood came with its challenges. Ares and Celeste were at the age where they bickered endlessly over the smallest of things — whether it was toys, attention, or simply to see who could get on your nerves first. Their constant squabbles were a source of frustration, and yet you knew it was a phase they would eventually outgrow. Luna, on the other hand, still so small and newly born, could not seem to stop crying. Her wails often filled the castle, and while the maids were always close by, ready to assist, you never allowed them to. You wanted your daughter to find comfort in your arms, not anyone else’s.

There were days when calming her down felt like a losing battle, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. But when you finally succeeded, when her cries quieted and her tiny form melted into sleep, it filled you with a sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory in a life full of larger, weightier battles.

Fortunately, today was one of the easier days. Luna wasn’t feeling particularly fussy, and after a few gentle rocks and soft pats on her back, she fell asleep in your arms without much protest. Relief washed over you as you gazed down at her peaceful face, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The soft warmth of her against you, the quiet of the room, made you feel like, for a moment, everything was right.

“Your Grace?”

A voice interrupted your quiet reverie, but you didn’t turn. Your eyes remained fixed on Luna, unwilling to break the fragile serenity of the moment. You hummed in response, acknowledging the speaker but unable to tear your gaze from your sleeping daughter.

“Your presence is wanted, though not required, Your Grace.”

The words draw you from your thoughts, and with a soft sigh, you finally turn to face the speaker. It’s the Lord Commander, standing tall and imposing, his armor catching the dim light filtering through the windows.

“What for?” you ask, your voice calm but laced with curiosity.

“The Kingsguard posting,” he replies, his tone formal, as always. “It’s been suggested that you select who will guard the Red Keep.”

You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to Luna, still fast asleep in your arms. The thought of placing your trust in someone else, of relying on others to protect what matters most, brings a weight to your chest. As a mother, your first instinct is always to shield your children. You would want nothing more than for them to roam the castle freely, knowing they were surrounded by those you trusted — those you handpicked.

“I suppose,” you murmur.

After carefully setting Luna in her crib, you linger for a moment, brushing a tender hand over her soft cheek. Ensuring the maids were nearby to watch over her, you quietly slip from the nursery and follow the Lord Commander through the castle's stone corridors. Your thoughts remain on Luna for a heartbeat longer before shifting to the matter at hand — choosing the knights who would guard your family, your children.

You arrive at the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where a line of knights stands at attention, their armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. The air is crisp, the tension palpable as each knight awaits his turn to be presented.

The Lord Commander steps forward, his voice ringing with authority. "Step forward, Ser Kim Namjoon."

The knight moves with a quiet confidence, offering you a small, almost shy smile. Dimples crease his cheeks, and despite the serious nature of the proceedings, you find yourself smiling back, charmed by the warmth in his expression.

"Ser Namjoon has proved strong and steady in both the tourney lists and in service beyond," the Lord Commander begins. "While traveling through the Kingswood on the way to King’s Landing, Ser Namjoon recently brought a would-be poacher to justice."

You listen carefully, considering the man before you. His loyalty and steadiness are clear, and his recent actions speak of a knight who serves with honor. Still, your mind drifts to a darker, more urgent thought — combat. The Red Keep, and more importantly, your children, needed knights who were not only honorable but battle hardened. In these uncertain times, loyalty alone would not be enough. 

"Ser Namjoon," you say, your voice polite yet measured. "We thank you for your loyal service to the Crown."

He bows deeply before stepping back into line, and you offer him a nod in return, though your thoughts continue to circle around the same question — how many of these knights had seen true combat?

The next knight steps forward, and your gaze narrows as you take him in.

"Ser Kim Seokjin," the Lord Commander announces.

This knight is taller, leaner than Namjoon. He holds himself with a quiet grace, his expression serious, but there's a spark of something beneath the surface — determination perhaps, or ambition.

"Winner of the melee at Cider Hall," the Lord Commander continues. "He was the last mounted of three and twenty knights. Ser Seokjin was knighted at eight and ten."

You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his accomplishments. Yet, your thoughts linger on something more pressing, more crucial to the protection of your family.

"Do any of these knights have combat experience?" you ask, your tone sharper now. "Beyond capturing poachers and winning tourneys?"

The Lord Commander nods solemnly, signaling the next candidate.

“Ser Jeon Jungkook.”

As the name is called, a young knight steps forward, noticeably younger than the others who had come before him. Yet, despite his youth, he carries himself with an air of quiet confidence, his steps measured and purposeful. Strands of raven hair fall loosely across his forehead, framing a face that, while youthful, is sharp with focus. His dark eyes meet yours with a steady gaze, neither too bold nor deferent — he stands unshaken by the weight of the moment.

He looks about your age, perhaps even younger, and though he lacks the grizzled scars of a seasoned warrior, something about him immediately draws your attention. There's a natural grace in the way he moves, his armor fitting him perfectly as if he was born to wear it. He’s quite handsome, a fact you can’t help but notice as he stands before you, the light of the setting sun casting a faint glow over his features.

"Tell me, Ser Jungkook," you say, breaking the silence, "have you seen real combat?"

He doesn’t falter, his voice steady as he speaks. "I have, Your Grace. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. I was knighted after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.”

There is no hesitation in his tone, no embellishment. The quiet intensity of his words, the weight of lived experience behind them, strikes you deeply. His demeanor isn't that of a man seeking glory but of one who has already faced the fire and come out stronger for it. In that moment, your decision feels clear.

“It’s settled.” Your lips curve into a smile, one of certainty and satisfaction. “I choose Ser Jungkook.”

The Lord Commander stiffens slightly, his jaw tensing as though weighing whether to speak. Before you can take a step back toward your chambers, his voice interrupts, filled with respectful hesitation. "Perhaps we shouldn’t be too hasty, Your Grace. There is no doubt Ser Jungkook is a fine warrior, but Ser Namjoon and Ser Seokjin are from houses that are important allies of the Crown."

You turn slowly, your expression cool but firm. The politicking of the court — alliances, the endless exchange of favors and titles — was something you understood all too well. Yet, this was not a matter of alliances. This was the safety of your family, the future of your children. And no amount of courtly maneuvering could change that.

“Those men are tourney knights,” you say, your voice laced with a sharp edge. “My children should be defended by a man who’s known real combat. Should they not?”

The Lord Commander pauses, his gaze flickering between the knights and your unwavering stance. He gives a short bow, conceding. “Of course, Your Grace.”

You nod once, satisfied. “Very well, then,” you say, a smile returning to your face, though this time with a sense of finality. “I expect you to plan Ser Jungkook’s investiture.”

There’s a flicker of something in the Lord Commander’s eyes — perhaps begrudging respect or recognition of your authority in this matter. He bows once more before stepping aside. “As you wish, Your Grace. I will see to it.”

As the days passed, it became clear that your decision to appoint Ser Jungkook was more than justified.

Jungkook proved himself an unwavering presence in the lives of your children. He guarded Ares and Celeste like a loyal hound, always at their side, his dark eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. Wherever they went — whether it was the training yard where Ares spent hours practicing swordplay or the garden where Celeste attempted to name every flower — Jungkook followed, his sight never leaving them.

In the corridors of the Red Keep, you would often catch glimpses of him, stationed at the door to whatever chamber Ares and Celeste had wandered into, standing with that same quiet intensity that first caught your attention. He never intruded upon their activities, never interfered with their games, but his presence was felt all the same. He was a silent sentinel, ensuring that no one entered or exited a room without his knowledge.

Even the servants and court members began to take note, offering respectful nods as they passed him. There was a certain respect that began to build around Jungkook, not just as a knight, but as a protector of the royal family — of your family.

Before Ser Jungkook’s arrival, the Red Keep had always felt secure. Its towering walls and seasoned guards provided a fortress of safety, a place where danger rarely crossed your mind. Yet, somehow, with Jungkook’s arrival, there was a new, tangible sense of protection. His presence, quiet yet vigilant, added an extra layer of assurance, as if the very air had shifted, growing thicker with safety, steadier with his watchful eye. He didn’t need to speak or make grand gestures; just knowing he was there, standing mere feet away from you, made the castle feel more fortified than it ever had before.

In many ways, he made you feel like that too — protected, even in the smallest, unspoken ways.

The Small Council was always the most grueling part of your day. Despite your title as Queen, you found yourself constantly sidelined, your voice often drowned out by the men who dominated the discussions. You had grown accustomed to their subtle condescension — the way they’d nod and pretend to listen, only to carry on as if your words had never been spoken. You’d learned to expect it, but the sting of dismissal never faded entirely.

And today was no different.

As you took your seat, Jungkook stood nearby, ever the silent sentinel. He’d grown adept at reading you, his dark eyes keenly observing the smallest shift in your demeanor. He noticed how, at first, you entered the room with a composed grace, ready to engage in the matters at hand. But as the meeting dragged on, frustration began to creep in, visible in the slight tightening of your jaw each time a man at the table spoke over you or dismissed your suggestions with a polite but infuriating nod.

Jungkook’s eyes followed the subtle changes — the way your posture stiffened, the soft sigh you tried to suppress, and then, finally, the way boredom started to settle in as you reached for the small stone ball on the table, rolling it between your fingers absentmindedly. He knew you were doing your best to remain patient, but the disrespect weighed heavily in the room.

His hand instinctively twitched at his side, a protective instinct rising within him as he stood there watching. He was ready to intervene if the moment called for it, though he knew better than to step in unless absolutely necessary. Still, his silent support was palpable, a reassuring presence amidst the clamor of men who failed to see the strength in the woman before them.

“Perhaps we should discuss Driftmark, Your Grace,” the Maester began, his voice too casual for the gravity of the subject. He directed his attention toward your husband, but the mention of Driftmark instantly drew you in, pulling you from your growing boredom. You straightened in your seat, the defensiveness in your posture clear.

“What of it?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, the raw emotion behind it hard to suppress. Driftmark wasn’t just a topic for idle conversation — it was family. Personal. The loss of the Lord of the Tides, your cousin’s husband, had been a blow that still lingered, and the aftermath of it weighed heavily on your heart.

He had been more than just family; he had adored your children as if they were his own, even naming your daughter, Celeste, as his heir. It was an honor, though one with its own set of complications. With Ares set to inherit the Iron Throne, Celeste was to inherit Driftmark. Your cousin, devastated by the loss of her husband and without heirs of her own, was to hold the seat in her stead until Celeste came of age.

The Maester’s eyes flickered between you and your husband, clearly aware of the tension in the room but too entrenched in his own position to approach the subject delicately. He cleared his throat, then spoke with a tone that bordered on patronizing. “It’s... a delicate matter, Your Grace. There are those who believe the succession should be reconsidered, given your daughter’s age. Furthermore, some question the wisdom of naming a girl as heir to such a powerful seat.”

Your stomach tightened, fury simmering beneath the surface. A girl. As if Celeste’s age or gender diminished her worth, her potential. You could feel the disdain, not just for your daughter, but for the very idea of a woman wielding such power.

You held the Maester’s gaze, your voice sharp with barely concealed fury. “And do you agree with them?”

The chamber seemed to freeze in that moment, the weight of your words pressing down on everyone in the room. All eyes flickered nervously between you and the Maester, the tension palpable as if even the air had thickened, making it harder to breathe. Everyone braced themselves for the confrontation that was surely coming.

The Maester, sensing the chance to finally reveal his true thoughts, straightened in his seat, his chest puffing out as arrogance replaced caution. He no longer glanced toward your husband for approval; instead, his focus was solely on you, his eyes glinting with condescension.

“A woman on the Driftwood Throne, Your Grace?” he repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. “Forgive my candor, but Driftmark is not some soft and delicate estate. It is a seat of warriors, sailors, men of the sea and battle. Its history is steeped in strength and tradition. To put a mere girl — no matter her bloodline — on that chair is folly, plain and simple. A woman’s place is in the home, tending to hearth and children, not commanding fleets or sitting in council chambers. The late Lord has a brother who would make a fine new Lord, more befitting the legacy.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands tightening into fists. “His brother has no desire for rule!” you shot back, your temper dangerously close to boiling over. “Celeste is his rightful heir. It was his wish, and it will not be questioned!”

The Maester, unfazed, continues. “Your Grace… with all due respect, your daughter is but a child. A girl of her age should be concerned with dolls and dresses, not the governance of a seat as vital as Driftmark. There are many in the realm who would argue that Driftmark deserves a stronger hand. A male heir, one capable of steering the course of the future, as tradition demands. Perhaps it is time to reconsider your decision, before it’s too late. Before the realm begins to question not only Driftmark’s future, but the Queen’s judgment as well.”

The insult hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting a heavy, suffocating tension over the room. The audacity — the sheer gall of the Maester to question not only your daughter’s right but your authority as Queen. Fury simmered beneath your composed exterior, your hand twitching as though you might lash out.

But before you could muster a response, Jungkook was already moving.

“You will watch your tongue when speaking to the Queen, Maester,” Jungkook’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble, carrying the unmistakable weight of a threat. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more menacing. “Or it shall be taken from you.”

The room seemed to shrink around the Maester, all eyes now on him as the color drained from his face. His earlier arrogance dissolved in an instant, replaced with wide-eyed panic. The man who had dared to question your daughter’s birthright now looked as though he might faint from fear.

“I- I meant no offense, Ser Jungkook,” the Maester stammered, his words tumbling over themselves in a desperate attempt to backpedal. His gaze flickered nervously from you to Jungkook, searching for some kind of escape.

“You did,” Jungkook cut him off sharply, his tone like the edge of a blade. His gaze bore into the Maester, unyielding, unwavering. “And I will remind you once more: mind your tongue.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the threat hanging in the air like a blade, and no one doubted that Jungkook would make good on his promise if pushed further.

You turned your gaze to Jungkook, barely concealing your silent shock. The man who stood just feet away, usually so quiet and composed, always speaking only when spoken to, had stepped in to defend you — boldly, without hesitation. The gesture was unexpected, and for a moment, you were struck by the kindness and protectiveness it held.

It was not just the words he had spoken, but the intensity behind them, the clear signal that he would tolerate no disrespect toward you. In a room full of lords and courtiers who often dismissed your voice, Jungkook’s sudden defense felt like a rare and precious show of loyalty. Uncommon as it was, it left a warmth spreading in your chest, a silent but deeply felt appreciation.

Jungkook still hadn’t met your eyes, his intense gaze fixed on the Maester, the disapproval and disgust etched in his expression radiating an aura so fierce, it was almost frightening. He stood there like a wall of steel, silently daring anyone to challenge him again.

You turned your attention back to the Maester, who now squirmed under the weight of the moment. His once confident, condescending exterior had crumbled, now sitting timidly in his seat.

“Celeste is the rightful heir,” you stated, your voice even and composed, though laced with quiet authority. “She will rule Driftmark, and she will do so just as well as any man ever could. Anyone who questions that,” you paused, allowing the weight of your words to settle over the room, “will regret it.”

The Maester lowered his head, unable to meet your gaze, his earlier arrogance completely shattered. “Of course, Your Grace. Please, forgive my words.”

Jungkook didn’t move an inch, his focus still locked onto the Maester like a hawk waiting for the slightest wrong move. The room felt smaller, the tension almost suffocating as the Maester’s earlier confidence reduced to a pitiful murmur.

“See that you don’t forget that again,” you said, your tone final and cold, leaving no room for further argument.

With that, you stood up from your seat, the weight of the moment still hanging heavy in the air. Without another word, you turned on your heel and made your way out of the courtroom, every step deliberate, your posture unyielding. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as you moved, a quiet power radiating from you that demanded respect.

Jungkook, as ever, was by your side in an instant, but he kept a respectful distance, just enough to remain a silent protector, his presence still like a shield around you. His footsteps were measured, the sound of his boots echoing softly in the corridors, and yet there was an undeniable sense of security in the space between you two. No words were exchanged as you made your way to your chamber — there was no need for them. His silent solidarity was all you required.

Jungkook’s presence was reassuring, like the calm after a storm, and it made the weight of leadership — of being Queen — just a little easier to bear.

After the heat of earlier’s events, the last thing you wanted was to step foot back into the chaos of the court. The weight of the Maester’s words still lingered in the air, and you felt the need to retreat, to recharge in the only place that felt truly like yours. So, you didn’t leave your chambers for the rest of the day. You took the rare opportunity to unwind, the need for solitude outweighing any further obligations for the day.

Without a second thought, you changed into your nightgown well before the moon rose, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the tense weight of your court attire. You moved with practiced ease, the familiar ritual of shedding the day’s responsibilities easing the knots in your shoulders. 

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a warm glow that danced across the room. You sank into the couch, the cushions molding to your body as you settled in front of the flames. With a book in hand, you opened the pages, the words inviting you into another world — a world where you could forget, if only for a moment, the burdens of being Queen.

You lost yourself in the story, the flicker of the fire keeping time with the rhythm of your reading. Outside your window, the castle was quiet, the usual noise of the corridors muted by the sanctuary of your chamber. For the first time that day, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside could wait. Here, in the comfort of your own space, you could simply be.

But just as the fire’s soft, flickering glow began to lull you deeper into peace, a knock at the door broke the fragile silence, its sound sharp and intrusive. A flicker of annoyance stirred within you — someone daring to interrupt the quiet sanctuary of your evening. But then, a familiar voice, calm and steady, followed.

“Your Grace?”

It’s him.

You took a slow breath, the irritation melting away at the sound of his voice, and called softly, “Come in, Ser Jungkook.”

The door creaked open, but Jungkook didn’t immediately step inside. He stood just beyond the threshold, his tall frame framed by the dim light spilling from the hall, casting long shadows across the stone floor. There was something endearing in the way he paused there, as though uncertain, hesitating to cross the boundary of your private space without your explicit permission. His respect for the sanctity of your chambers was something rare, a simple act that made him stand out even more.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” he said, his voice smooth and steady, like the evening air itself. “I’ve just come to alert you that the children are abed.”

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

What you didn’t know was that the children had been in bed for some time. Jungkook had only alerted you now because he was standing just outside your door, hesitating. He wasn’t sure if he should disturb your peace with the news. Still new to this role, he was uncertain of how to balance his duties with the delicate art of discretion.

“Thank you, Ser Jungkook,” you said, your tone warm with gratitude. “I would appreciate it if you informed me every night from now on.”

“Of course, Your Grace. Sleep well.” Jungkook gave a respectful nod, his voice as steady and sincere as ever, and he turned to leave.

“Ser Jungkook,” you called again, before he could close the door behind him.

He paused, hand resting lightly on the doorframe, his dark eyes meeting yours in the soft, flickering firelight. For a brief moment, the noise of the castle seemed to fall away, the crackling fire the only sound that filled the space between you. It was rare, these moments of true stillness, where it was just the two of you, no interruptions, no duties weighing on either of your shoulders. The warmth from the fire cast a soft glow over him, accentuating the quiet strength in his features.

For the first time, you found yourself truly looking at him — not just the protector of your children, not just the present knight, but Jungkook. 

“I’ve yet to thank you for earlier — in the Small Council chamber,” you said softly, your voice quiet but earnest. “I appreciate your defense. Thank you.”

The words hung between you for a moment, carrying a weight that felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t just the defense itself, though that was significant; it was the quiet way he had stood up for you. Jungkook had always been the silent one, always just there, standing in the background. But today, he had been more. He had spoken when no one else had. His simple act of defending you meant more than you could say.

Jungkook’s posture softened at your words, though his expression remained composed, his usual stoic demeanor intact. Yet, as he held your gaze, his dark eyes seemed to linger a moment longer than usual, a subtle warmth settling in his look that wasn’t often there. It was as though the space between you both had shifted, the heavy tension of the day dissolving into something quieter, almost comforting.

“It was nothing, Your Grace. You need not thank me,” he replied, his voice low and measured, though there was something beneath it — something genuine, almost vulnerable, that made the words feel different from his usual calm, detached responses. His eyes remained steady on yours, and for a moment, the usual distance between you seemed to shrink, as though he was offering something unspoken, something more than just a knight’s duty. “You shouldn’t have to endure that kind of disrespect. It’s my duty to protect you, in all ways.”

You gave a soft nod, absorbing the weight of his words. Jungkook was a constant in your life — a silent guardian who stood watch over both your children and yourself. But hearing him speak of protecting you in such a way, so plainly and honestly, stirred something within you. It wasn’t just your children that mattered to him; it was you, as well. 

“You do more than protect,” you said, your voice softer now, the weariness of the day gradually easing. “Your actions today… they meant more than you know.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched at the corners, acknowledging your words, but he didn’t respond right away. There was a brief silence between you both, the fire’s crackling embers filling the stillness as he shifted his weight, his stance still as rigid as ever, but now, a slight tension in his shoulders had eased.

“If there’s ever anything you need, Your Grace,” he said finally, his tone softer than it had been moments before, but with an underlying firmness that conveyed his commitment, “I am here.”

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you like a quiet promise, steady and unwavering. The light of the fire caught on his features, casting soft shadows over his face, making his usually guarded expression seem less distant, more human. You felt a sense of peace settling into the space between you both, a momentary connection that felt more genuine than anything that had passed between you in the public eye.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, finding comfort in the rare, honest exchange.

Jungkook inclined his head once more, his expression softening in a way that was unusual for him — a small, but genuine smile curling his lips, the warmth of it making him seem more approachable, more... real.

“Goodnight, Your Grace,” he said quietly, voice full of respect, but also something else — something deeper.

“Goodnight, Ser Jungkook,” you murmured in return.

With that, he turned and moved to close the door behind him, the soft click of the latch signaling his departure. But as the door clicked shut, you realized that this time, you didn’t feel the usual solitude. There was something different. Something comforting. Something exciting that made the pit of your stomach feel funny, in knowing he was standing just outside your door.

Just the barrier of wood between you two.

The next day unfolded much more peacefully than the last. 

You sat on the floor of your chamber, the luxurious fabric of your gown pooling around you like a soft sea of silk. The quiet of the room was comforting as you focused on the delicate task in front of you — embroidering a blanket for Luna. Each stitch was a calming motion, your mind momentarily free of the weight of royal duties. 

You hadn’t seen Jungkook yet, but his presence lingered in your thoughts, like an unspoken promise. The anticipation of his arrival stirred a quiet excitement within you, though you had no idea when he might appear. 

The silence was broken by your husband's voice, cutting through the peaceful air as he entered without knocking, his tone casual. “How are you feeling today?”

You glanced up briefly, meeting his eyes before returning to your work. “Better,” you answered, the edges of your lips curving into a faint smile.

“Good,” Atticus replied, smirking as he made his way over to the table and poured himself a goblet of wine. “Do you think you’ll be attending the Small Council today?”

You hesitated, the thought of sitting through another long, tedious session filling you with a quiet reluctance. “No… if that’s alright?” you replied, your tone tentative, not wanting to seem too dismissive of his suggestion.

“Of course,” Atticus said, lifting the goblet to his lips. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he added, “But I’ll have you know, I’ve hired a new Maester.”

The words hit you like a spark, and without thinking, you put your needle down. The sudden shift in the conversation caught your attention fully. Your eyes locked onto him, eyebrows raised in surprise. The idea of a new Maester was unexpected — and it immediately piqued your curiosity.

"Are you upset about that?" you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of apology, eyes searching his face for any sign of how he truly felt.

Atticus paused, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he set the goblet down gently on the table. "I could never be upset with you for only standing up for yourself," he said, his voice steady, though there was an underlying heat to his words. "And someone as disrespectful as that will not continue to walk around in this castle."

His declaration was resolute, filled with a quiet determination. The confidence in his voice was not just from his position, but from a place of deep respect for you. It was as if he had taken the full weight of your frustration upon himself, and the fire behind his words showed that he would do whatever it took to ensure you never had to endure such treatment again. 

You smile warmly at his words. "Thank you, Atticus."

He pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of the table. "You know, as much as I’m not in love with you," he says slowly, his tone more thoughtful than usual, "I still love you."

The admission hangs in the air between you, the raw honesty in his voice bringing a quiet comfort. It wasn't the passionate declaration of romance you might have hoped for, but it was the kind of love that ran deep — steady, consistent, unshakable. 

You meet his gaze, and your heart softens with understanding. "As do I," you reply, your voice gentle but genuine. 

It wasn’t the kind of love that others might expect, filled with grand gestures and whispered sweet nothings. But in its own way, it was a love that had stood the test of time. It isn’t passionate, but there’s a respect and understanding between the two of you that runs deep.

“Now,” Atticus says, his voice low, teasing. “Can we talk about your knight in shining armor?”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smirk that tugs at your lips. “Oh Gods,” you say, the edge of amusement clear in your voice as you go back to your needlework.

“Oh, come on,” he whines, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “I let you pick, now you have to tell me all about him!”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “It was you who suggested I pick?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I thought you’d feel more content choosing someone yourself.”

“I do,” you reply with a small smile, returning to your embroidery. “It was a wise suggestion.”

“Oh, don’t change the subject now!” He motions with a dramatic hand. “What was that about yesterday?”

“He was just defending me,” you say, hoping to dismiss the conversation, though you’re well aware it won’t be that easy.

Atticus lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes in dramatic fashion. “No knight is that devoted to duty, my dear wife.”

His words make you pause, but you try not to let it show. Still, a smile begins to creep onto your lips, unbidden. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to think about it that way. Jungkook had always been quiet, loyal, reliable — but devoted in the way Atticus is hinting? It’s a thought that stirs something unexpected in you.

“Well, believe it or not,” you say, unable to stop the small grin now, “we’ve spoken to each other only a few times.”

Atticus raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, clearly entertained. “Is that so? And yet, with little words between you, he’s ready to challenge a room full of lords for your honor. Fascinating.”

You roll your eyes, returning to your needlework in an attempt to focus, but your mind can’t help but drift back to Jungkook. The memory of his voice, steady and unyielding as he defended you, lingers. Maybe Atticus has a point, but admitting that would only fuel his relentless teasing.

“He’s just dutiful,” you insist, though even you can hear the uncertainty creeping into your voice. 

Atticus catches it too, and his smirk widens as he takes a slow, deliberate sip from his goblet. “Dutiful because he loves his duty? Or because of you?”

Your cheeks flush instantly, the warmth creeping up your neck as you try to brush off the insinuation. “You’re reading into this too much,” you mumble, focusing on the embroidery in your lap, though your needlework suddenly seems less interesting.

“Am I?” Atticus drawls, stepping closer, his tone playful but probing. “Did you solely choose him because of his skills?”

You glance up at him briefly, trying to suppress a smile. “Are you implying something?”

He shrugs, the smirk on his lips widening. “Well, did you?”

“I did!” you exclaim, the words tumbling out a little too quickly, as if you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. You glance up at Atticus, catching the amused gleam in his eyes. “He’s excellent with the children, and he strikes the perfect balance around here — intimidating enough to make it clear no one should challenge him, but not so much that the children are frightened. I trust him completely, and I’ve only known him a short while.”

Atticus hums, swirling the wine in his goblet with deliberate slowness before taking a sip, his skepticism apparent in the slight arch of his brow.

You shake your head, sighing lightly. “He’s proven his worth,” you say, trying to sound firm, though the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips betrays you. “It’s his abilities that matter.”

Atticus grins, thoroughly enjoying this exchange. “Of course, his abilities. And it’s just a coincidence that the knight you trust with our children’s safety also happens to be rather… easy on the eyes?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrays your amusement. “His appearance has nothing to do with why I chose him,” you insist, though your tone has lost its edge, becoming playful and light. “He’s capable, loyal, and vigilant. His looks are irrelevant.”

Atticus raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a knowing grin. “Irrelevant, but not unnoticed?”

You shoot him a mock glare, though the smile tugging at your lips makes it hard to maintain any seriousness. “You’re impossible,” you say with a shake of your head. “I care about his skills and nothing more.”

Atticus chuckles softly, clearly entertained. “We shall see,” he teases, his voice lingering in the air as he begins to make his exit. His steps are slow, unhurried, as though he’s savoring the moment. 

He walks out with a lightness in his stride, and the faint echo of his laughter trails behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts — and the quiet, unsettling realization that maybe, just maybe, his words weren’t entirely off the mark.

Returning to the Small Council felt different this time. The atmosphere had shifted. The men were more considerate, actually taking your opinions into account — a stark contrast to their usual dismissiveness. It seemed Atticus’ harsh punishment of the last Maester had sent a clear message: disrespect would no longer be tolerated. They were treading carefully now, not wanting to find themselves in a similar predicament.

You exhaled a long breath as you walked into your chamber, ready to unwind after the tense day. Removing your jewelry, you placed each piece delicately on the table, the soft clink of metal filling the otherwise quiet room. You went to bend down to slip off your shoes, eager for the relief of the cool floor beneath your feet.

But before you could, a sharp point suddenly pressed against your neck.

You froze.

Panic surged through you as the cold blade pressed harder against your skin, the world around you narrowing to the sound of your racing heartbeat.

“Don’t scream,” a low voice hissed in your ear, breath hot against your skin, “or you will die.”

Your breath hitched, the threat sinking in, terror flooding your veins. Tears welled in your eyes as helplessness gripped you. You had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of another.

The man spun you around with a jerk, and your gaze landed on another figure lurking in the shadows — both were dressed in the rough, dirt stained garb of rat catchers, but their eyes gleamed with intent far darker than pest control.

“We were paid to kill the little girl,” the man growled, his eyes boring into yours with malicious purpose. “The one who is set to inherit Driftmark. Where is she?”

Your heart stopped. They wanted Celeste. Your daughter. 

Desperation clawed at your insides, but you forced yourself to remain calm, though your voice trembled as you spoke. “I have many things in here of great value,” you said, your mind racing to stall, to buy any time you could. “You can take whatever you want. Jewelry, gold…”

The man sneered, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to make your skin prickle with fear. “We’re not here for trinkets,” he spat. “We’re here for the girl.”

The suffocating pressure eased as the man shoved you away, though he kept his dagger trained on you, its sharp point a constant threat.

“Lead us to her,” he snarled, “and you will live.”

Your pulse quickened, panic rising. But amid the terror, you clung to one thought: Jungkook was just outside, standing guard by the children’s room. He would protect Celeste.

Heart pounding, you forced your legs to move, stepping cautiously toward the door of your chamber. The rat catchers followed closely, one of them pressing the dagger against your back, a constant reminder of the danger lurking just inches away.

By the time you reached the door, your eyes caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook — his back against the wood, waiting, ready. His gaze met yours, and in that brief moment, you felt a surge of relief, but it was fleeting.

Before you could react, Jungkook sprang into action. In a heartbeat, he grabbed your arm and yanked you behind him, shielding you with his body. You stumbled backward, watching in awe as he unsheathed his sword with deadly precision. 

Jungkook wasted no time. His blade sank deep into the stomach of the first rat catcher, a sickening thud echoing in the hallway. The man gasped, blood spurting from the wound, and crumpled to the floor.

The second assailant, wild with desperation, swung his dagger wildly at Jungkook. But Jungkook moved with lethal grace, dodging each strike effortlessly. His movements were swift, controlled, each step calculated. In one fluid motion, he caught the man's wrist mid swing, twisting it with a force that made the man cry out in pain. Jungkook’s grip tightened, and with a brutal efficiency, he forced the attacker to plunge the dagger into his own abdomen.

The man’s eyes widened in shock, the weapon lodged deep within him, his strength faltering. Jungkook released him, and the second rat catcher staggered before collapsing to the ground beside his companion, both of them now lying in pools of their own blood.

In shock, you stood frozen, tears welling in your eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over you. Only a minute ago, you had feared for your life, for your family’s lives. And now, Jungkook had effortlessly put an end to the rat catchers, his blade on the ground still stained with their blood. It all felt too surreal, too close.

Before you could fully process what had happened, Jungkook rushed to you, his expression softening with concern. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch grounding you. “Your Grace? Are you hurt?” His voice was low but urgent, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.

You shook your head, still unable to find your voice, too overwhelmed by everything. Your heart pounded, your throat tight as you struggled to keep yourself together.

“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispered, his thumbs brushing tenderly across your cheeks. “Everything’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. The fear, the relief, the gratitude — they all hit you at once, overwhelming your senses. And before you knew it, your emotions spilled over. You erupted into sobs, throwing your arms around Jungkook’s neck, seeking the warmth and safety of his presence. You buried your face into his skin, your tears dripping onto his armor as you cried.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate for a second. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him, his strength and warmth offering the comfort you so desperately needed. One of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your back while the other cradled your head, pressing you gently against his chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong, was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the chaos of your emotions.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmured into your hair, his voice soft and calming. “You’re safe now.”

And in that moment, in his arms, you believed him.

After Atticus learned about the rat catchers’ attack, his fury was swift and intense, shaking the very walls of the Red Keep. His voice thundered from the Small Council chamber, echoing through the halls as he took command of the situation. His anger wasn’t just justified — it was terrifying. No one dared stand in his way as he set out to make sure something like this could never happen again.

You sat in your children’s room, seeking comfort in their innocent presence. Even as you tried to calm your racing heart, the distant roar of Atticus’s orders only heightened the gravity of what had nearly occurred. He wasted no time doubling the guard, placing knights at every vulnerable corner of the Keep. The added protection was meant to reassure, but for you, it only underscored the severity of the danger that had almost taken your daughter.

Atticus was relentless in his pursuit of justice. He immediately dispatched his men to find out who had hired the rat catchers. It wasn’t long before the truth came out — your former Maester hadn’t been acting alone. There were more, many more, who shared his poisonous view that Celeste, your little girl, had no right to inherit Driftmark. These men, clinging to their outdated belief that only a man should rule, had conspired to end her life before she could ever sit upon the Driftwood Throne.

Those who were caught speaking against Celeste’s claim were dealt with harshly. Atticus showed no mercy. He threw them in the dungeons without a second thought, ensuring that any who dared oppose your daughter’s future would be silenced. In this, he was steadfast, and you were grateful for his fierce protection of your family.

But even with the threat supposedly contained, the fear hadn’t left you. That night still clung to you like a dark shadow, creeping into your thoughts when you least expected it. The memory of those men — of their knives and their cruel threats — replayed in your mind every night, a loop you couldn’t break free from. 

Sleep was becoming harder to find. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the attack pressing down on your chest. Even with Jungkook stationed just outside your door, standing as your silent guardian, the sense of unease never fully faded. You trusted him more than anyone now, knowing he had saved you without hesitation, but your mind couldn’t silence the what ifs. What if something happened to him? What if the guards missed something? What if they came back?

Tonight was no different. The room was quiet, your children safe in their beds, but your thoughts raced. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside felt like a reminder of how close you had come to losing everything. You sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest, trying to calm the storm within. 

Jungkook was right outside the door — so close, and yet, the fear lingered. You knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but that night had changed everything. The vulnerability, the terror, had been too real, and you couldn’t just forget it. Even though the Red Keep was locked down, even though Atticus had done everything in his power to keep you safe, you were haunted by the thought that danger still lurked just out of sight.

You couldn’t sleep. The quiet room, the stillness, your own thoughts circling endlessly — it was too much. You knew that tonight, like so many others, you’d be awake until the sun rose. So, with a sigh, you slipped out of bed, crossed the room, and quietly opened the door.

And there he was.

Jungkook stood just outside, his back to you, ever vigilant. When the door creaked softly, he turned, eyes meeting yours. In the faint light of the moon, his features were softened, yet his gaze was alert, concerned. The gleam in his eyes caught the moonlight, and for just a moment, the comfort of his presence made the world feel a little less daunting.

“Your Grace?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “I thought you’d be abed by now.”

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice quiet but laden with the weight of sleepless nights and endless worry.

“You’re safe now,” he said gently, his tone firm yet soothing, as if trying to will your mind to find peace. “Allow yourself to rest.”

You managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You said you’d be here if I ever needed anything.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he nodded, understanding your unspoken request. “I did.”

You hesitated only briefly before speaking again, your voice softer now. “Can you come in?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and he straightened. “Your Grace, I hardly think that is appropriate,” he replied, though his tone was more uncertain than firm. His sense of duty and propriety clashed visibly with his desire to help you.

“It will comfort me,” you said, the vulnerability in your voice enough to make him falter.

He hesitated, clearly torn. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as if it could ground him in the face of your request. His loyalty to you was absolute, but the boundaries of it were something he grappled with now.

Seeing his hesitation, you added, teasing softly, “Your Queen demands you.”

That earned you a small smile, one that softened the tension in the air. Jungkook shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he conceded. “Well, who am I to deny my Queen?” he said, stepping past the threshold.

As Jungkook entered the room, his mere presence brought with it a sense of security you hadn’t even realized you’d been yearning for. His eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of concern and quiet understanding, as you led him over to the couch by the fireplace. 

You settled yourself on one side, pulling a blanket over your legs as you crossed them beneath its warmth. When you glanced up, you noticed he hadn’t joined you yet. Instead, he stood a little distance away, unsure, his posture stiff as if still on duty.

“Sit,” you gestured to the empty space beside you.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to the door as if he still wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do. But your gentle command was enough to sway him. With a slight nod, he moved closer, his heavy footsteps softening as he reached the couch. Just as he was about to sit, you spoke again, your voice quiet but firm.

“Take off your armor.”

He froze, eyes wide as if caught off guard by your request. “Your Grace,” he said slowly, his tone almost a warning, a reminder of the boundary he believed needed to remain in place.

But you shook your head, your expression soft but insistent. “I don’t want you here as Ser Jungkook,” you explained, your voice carrying a vulnerability you hadn’t meant to reveal. “I want you here just as Jungkook.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, clearly torn between his sense of duty and the comfort you were asking for. But then, with a slow exhale, he began to unfasten the clasps of his armor, the metallic clinks filling the otherwise quiet room. Piece by piece, the weight of it fell away, and he set it aside, each movement careful and deliberate.

Jungkook looked at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips as he gestured to his cloak. "If you would," he said softly, his eyes warm but with a hint of playful mischief.

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a bit lighter as you stood from the couch, the blanket slipping from your lap and pooling onto the floor. Your fingers brushed against his as you reached for the clasp of his cloak, feeling the cool metal as you carefully undid it. The fabric was thick and heavy, and as you pulled it off his shoulders, it seemed to take with it some of the invisible barrier he kept between you both.

The air between you felt different now, more intimate, as you set his cloak aside with the rest of his armor. When you turned back to face him, he was watching you closely, his expression softer than before, as if seeing you in a new light.

For a second, you just stood there, gazing at each other in the soft glow of the fire.

Now, without the weight of his armor, Jungkook looked more relaxed, his shoulders less tense, though there was still a quiet alertness in his posture. When you invited him to sit, he did so without hesitation this time, his expression softening as he settled next to you on the couch.

As the fire crackled gently beside you, casting a warm glow over the room, you found yourself seeing him differently. Here, sitting in your chambers, with the walls of duty momentarily lowered, Jungkook wasn’t just your knight anymore. He was a man — kind, steady, and unexpectedly gentle in his presence.

“I’ve not been able to sleep as of late,” you admitted, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you intended. “But with you here... I feel safe.”

Jungkook’s smile was soft, a flicker of warmth that reached his eyes. “I’m happy to hear that,” he said, though his voice was still laced with the respectful formality he always carried. “Your Grace.”

You hesitated for a moment, then spoke your name, more firmly this time. “Use my name. The formalities can stay with your armor… Jungkook.”

The moment hung between you, quiet but significant. When he repeated your name, his voice was different, softer, almost intimate. It felt personal, as if you were the only thing that mattered in this room, in this moment.

Your heart fluttered hearing your name on his lips. The way he said it felt more intimate than you’d expected, and as the quiet settled around you both, you realized the walls between you were coming down even more.

“My mother died when I was four and ten,” Jungkook begins, his voice steady but carrying the weight of years of grief. “She was murdered right in front of me. I was weak, untrained... I couldn’t help her. I just stood there, frozen, and I couldn’t save her.” He pauses, his gaze distant, lost in the painful memory. “When I left the children’s chamber to go guard yours and I saw those rat catchers in there… I knew I couldn’t let you down like I did my mother. I couldn’t let that happen again.”

Your heart clenches and your brows knit in sorrow, completely torn by his story. His words hang heavy in the air, the realization of his past weighing on your chest. You feel both gratitude and guilt — glad that Jungkook trusts you enough to open up, yet heartbroken by the trauma he’s lived through.

It suddenly makes sense — why he’s always so guarded, so precise, so fiercely loyal. You understand now why he was trained in combat at such a young age, why he’s so vigilant, and why he holds himself to such a high standard. His devotion to you, his protection of your family, it all stems from a promise he made to himself long ago, a promise born from tragedy.

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm resting on the back of the couch, your touch warm and comforting. Jungkook’s gaze flickers to where your hand rests on his arm, and then back to your face, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“You’ve done well to uphold that promise,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. As your eyes meet his, you offer him a genuine smile, hoping it conveys the compassion you feel. “Your mother would love the man you’ve grown to be, Jungkook.”

For a brief moment, Jungkook’s eyes soften, his usual stoic expression breaking. He looks almost vulnerable, as if the weight he carries is shared, if only for a second.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his voice low and sincere. “I find myself very… protective over you.”

You tilt your head slightly, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips. The soft glow of the fire casts a warm light over your face, and your eyes seem to shimmer with curiosity. “Why is that?” you ask, a playful lilt to your tone as you watch him.

Jungkook hesitates for a beat, his dark eyes holding yours. He slowly pulls his arm away, the loss of contact leaving your skin colder than you expected. But before you can fully miss the warmth, you feel the feather light touch of his fingertips brushing down your arm. His touch is slow, deliberate, sending a tingling sensation across your skin, awakening something inside you.

Your breath catches as his fingers trail lower, the gentle path they take igniting a flutter in your chest. When his hand finally finds yours, his touch is warm and firm, his fingers lacing with yours like it was meant to be all along.

Jungkook looks down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over the back of your hand as if testing the waters. “It’s more than duty now,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with something deeper. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, something raw and unguarded. “I can’t explain it fully, but… it’s like you’ve become more than just someone I’m sworn to protect.”

His gaze lingers on your face, searching for a reaction, and you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you — curiosity, anticipation, and something that feels dangerously close to longing.

Your lips part slightly, your heart hammering in your chest as the room feels smaller, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. “More than duty?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten just a little around yours, grounding you in the moment. His eyes soften, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes… much more than duty,” he says, his voice tender yet filled with a quiet intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, but all you can focus on is him — on the warmth of his hand, the depth in his gaze, and the way the space between you seems to shrink with each passing second.

With his fingers still interlaced with yours, Jungkook gently pulls you closer. The sudden shift brings you nearer to him, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up as you blush under his gaze. The warmth of his body, the way his eyes are fixed on you — it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

As the distance between you vanishes, your breath catches when you realize his gaze is locked on your lips. It’s intense, and it makes your heart race. You watch, spellbound, as he lifts his other hand slowly. His thumb brushes tenderly across your bottom lip, the pad of his finger soft against your skin. The simple, teasing touch sends a wave of warmth washing over you.

He lingers there for a moment, rubbing your lip, and then his thumb presses just a little more insistently, grazing the slit of your mouth as though silently asking for permission. The unspoken question in his eyes makes your pulse quicken, and you instinctively part your lips in response. His thumb slips inside, and you close your mouth gently around it, letting him in.

Your eyes remain on him as his thumb rests against your tongue, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. The fire crackles in the background, but the world feels muted, like it’s just you and him in this moment. Your heart pounds, and the connection between you grows stronger as you suck lightly on his digit.

Jungkook’s breathing becomes slightly uneven as he watches you, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more primal. He gently withdraws his thumb, his fingers now tracing the curve of your jaw, his touch both firm and tender. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

The air between you is thick with anticipation, the moment heavy with the promise of what’s to come. His forehead rests against yours, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop.

“We should stop before things go further,” Jungkook whispers, his voice low and husky, the warmth of his breath tickling your lips as he gives you the chance to pull away.

You pause, your heart racing in your chest. “We should,” you whisper back, the words lingering in the air between you both.

But neither of you move.

Instead, your gaze remains locked on his, and you can feel the heat radiating between you, the unspoken desire that lingers in the small space that still separates you.

And just like that, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is electric, his lips soft yet insistent as they press against yours. It’s slow at first, a tentative exploration, but the moment your mouths meet, everything else fades into the background.

As your lips remain locked with his, you straddle his lap, the movement seamless and natural, as if you’ve both been leading up to this moment for far too long. Your hands slide behind his head, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss grows more heated, more desperate.

Jungkook’s hands find your waist, gripping you firmly, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. You feel his muscles tense beneath your fingertips as you press yourself against him, your hips moving instinctively. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you feel the hardness beneath you, his cock straining against the fabric of his breeches, the friction making you yearn for more.

Your hips begin to buck slowly, grinding against him as you search for more contact, more release. The heat between you two is palpable now, your breath mingling with his as the kiss deepens, tongues tangling in a rhythm that matches the slow, steady roll of your hips. Every shift of your body sends a wave of pleasure through you, and you can feel his grip tighten on your waist, his breathing growing heavier.

Jungkook lets out a low groan against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, igniting something primal. You can feel the restraint he’s holding onto, the tension in his body as he struggles to keep control, but the way his hands grip your waist tells you he’s just as lost in the moment as you are.

The friction between you both builds, the heat intensifying, but the layers of fabric between you only heighten the desire, making you ache for more.

“Perhaps I should thank you,” you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and teasing as your hips roll against him, causing a deep groan to escape from Jungkook’s throat. You can feel him hardening beneath you, his body responding despite his attempts to maintain composure. “For your service…”

His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you feel how much he’s holding back. “It is only my mere duty,” he says, voice strained, each word laced with barely controlled desire.

You smile at his restraint, your lips moving to brush against the sharp line of his jaw. “You’ve done so much,” you murmur, your lips trailing lower, leaving a warm path down his neck, just beneath his jaw. His skin is soft and warm, and his pulse races beneath your touch. You hear his breath catch as you kiss along his collarbone, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate press of your lips. “For me…” You move lower, your kisses more intentional, feeling his chest rise and fall more rapidly under your touch. “For my children…”

His hands twitch on your hips, torn between pulling you closer and letting you continue your slow, torturous descent. When you glance up at him, you see the way his dark eyes watch your every movement, clouded with need, a silent plea for more even as he struggles to keep himself grounded.

"I think you deserve a reward," you whisper, your voice sultry, teasing as your lips hover just above the edge of his tunic. Your fingers slowly, deliberately trace the hem, brushing against his heated skin as you make him wait, drawing out the anticipation.

Jungkook's head falls back, his lips parted as he releases a shaky breath, his control slipping with every passing second. His voice is a low growl, thick with longing. “You owe me nothing,”

You shake your head softly, your lips grazing the exposed skin of his chest. “I owe you everything,” you whisper back, your voice filled with sincerity and seduction, the intensity of the moment building as your hand moves lower, testing the boundaries of his restraint.

His body tenses beneath your touch, but his hands stay firm on your hips, holding you against him as if he’s afraid to let go. His eyes meet yours again, dark and full of raw emotion, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “I am yours,” he breathes, and in that moment, you know that he means every word.

With a soft smile playing on your lips, you slowly lift yourself off his lap, feeling the tension in the air as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling between his legs. Jungkook watches you closely, his breathing uneven, eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and restraint.

You place your hands gently on his thighs, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his breeches, his muscles tense beneath your touch. You start slow, allowing the moment to settle between you, your fingers tracing soft, deliberate circles along his thighs, teasing without rushing. Jungkook’s breath hitches slightly, his gaze locked on your every movement, as if entranced by the sight of you at his feet.

With a deliberate slowness, you begin to untie the laces of his breeches, savoring the quiet rustling of fabric as you pull them off completely, your fingertips brushing against his skin, making him shiver. You take your time, your eyes never leaving his, a playful gleam in your gaze as you watch his resolve crumble little by little.

His cock springs free, finally released from its tight confines. Jungkook lets out a low groan, the sudden release of tension sending a wave of relief through him. The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your breath catch, but you don’t rush. Instead, you rest your hands on his thighs again, grounding yourself in the warmth of his skin, feeling the subtle flex of his muscles beneath your palms.

You glance up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sends a thrill down your spine. His lips are parted, his breath heavy, and you can see the restraint in the way he grips the couch, knuckles white, fighting the urge to take control.

You spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock, feeling its warmth and weight resting in your palm. You start slow, allowing him to adjust to the sensation, your fingers curling around him with a firm but careful grip. As your hand begins to move, sliding up and down in deliberate, teasing strokes, Jungkook's head falls back against the couch. A low, breathy moan escapes his parted lips, his chest rising and falling more heavily with each breath, betraying his struggle to hold onto his composure under your touch. His muscles tense, eyes fluttering shut, as the pleasure builds with each movement.

His reaction fuels you, and you keep your pace slow and sensual, your hand gliding smoothly along his length. Each movement draws another sound from him — whether it’s a quiet sigh, a deep groan, or the way his breathing catches for a split second. The power you hold in this moment, the way his body responds to your touch, makes the air between you feel electric, alive with tension.

Jungkook’s fingers dig into the cushions beside him, as if holding on for control, but you can see the way his restraint is unraveling, bit by bit. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parted in silent bliss, eyes closed as he surrenders to the sensation.

With a mischievous smile, you tighten your grip just a little, adding the slightest bit more pressure as you continue to stroke him, and his moan deepens, sending a shiver through you.

You lean in, teasingly slow, letting the anticipation build. Jungkook’s breath hitches as he watches you, his chest rising and falling faster, his hands tightening into fists. The moment your tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock, his body tenses. You start with soft, delicate kitten licks, testing his sensitivity, letting him feel every light flick of your tongue as you work.

A bead of precum gathers at the tip, and you lap it up, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. Jungkook’s groan is deep, almost guttural, his head tipping back against the couch once more as you tease him with your soft licks, never giving him more than just a taste of what’s to come.

The way he reacts, the way his body trembles under your touch, only spurs you on. You take your time, savoring the control you have over him, feeling the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.

You glance up at him through your lashes, enjoying the sight of Jungkook completely lost in the moment, his lips parted, breath heavy. His reaction fuels your desire to tease him more. Your tongue moves slowly, deliberately, swirling around his sensitive tip, while your hand continues its steady rhythm, pumping him with just enough pressure to keep him on edge.

He moans again, low and deep, his hips instinctively bucking up, searching for more of that friction you’re so teasingly withholding. You hum softly, the vibrations making his cock twitch against your tongue. You take him a little deeper, wrapping your lips around the head, sucking gently as you let your hand pump the base, building the tension.

Jungkook’s hands grip the couch tightly, fighting to stay still, his body betraying him with every small thrust of his hips. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, your tongue working against the underside of his shaft as you slide him further into your mouth. His response is immediate — his body jerks, a strangled groan escapes him, and you feel his hands twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and grab you.

You reach up and intertwine your fingers with his, and in that simple gesture, a new layer of intimacy blooms between you. His grip is firm, almost desperate, as if holding your hand is the one thing grounding him in the intensity of the moment. It's no longer just about desire; it's something deeper, more vulnerable, a connection that transcends the physical. His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles, a soft, tender contrast to the raw passion swirling around you. That small touch, full of unspoken emotion, speaks louder than words ever could, reminding you both that this is more than just a fleeting moment — it’s a quiet, shared promise.

Jungkook’s breathing becomes even more ragged as you continue to take him deeper, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him closer to the edge. You can feel his restraint, the way he’s holding back, trying to stay in control despite the pleasure coursing through him.

He groans, your name slipping from his lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. You hum softly in response, the vibrations causing another moan to escape his lips. The combination of his hand in yours, his soft gasps, and the warmth of his skin beneath your touch creates an almost overwhelming sense of connection.

You pull off him with a soft, wet pop, leaving his cock glistening in the firelight. Your lips curve into a teasing smile as you drag your tongue slowly along the length of his shaft, watching his reaction. Jungkook’s breath catches, his body tensing with anticipation. When you reach his base, you let your tongue dip lower, tracing a path to his balls. You take your time, licking and teasing the sensitive skin before gently sucking them into your mouth.

The reaction is immediate — his hips jerk up involuntarily, a deep moan escaping him as his head falls back against the couch. His knuckles are white as he grips the cushions, and his fingers tighten around yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment. You keep your eyes on him, enjoying the way his face contorts with pleasure, his lips parting with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice rough and strained, the sound vibrating through the air, sending a thrill through you. His chest rises and falls heavily as you continue to pump his cock in your hand, your strokes slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of your mouth as you suck gently on his balls.

You can feel the tension building in him, his body trembling slightly under your touch. His muscles are taut, straining as he tries to hold himself back, but you know he’s close. The soft, breathless curses he murmurs between groans let you know just how much you're driving him to the edge.

Jungkook’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more intoxicating than the last. The feel of your mouth wrapped around his cock is overwhelming, your lips warm and slick as they glide over him, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. But what makes his pulse race even more is the sight of you — the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms — on your knees before him, your eyes dark with desire, lips wet and swollen as you take him deeper.

He can barely process it. A part of him feels like he’s lost in a dream, but the grip of your hand on his thigh, the soft, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat of your mouth around him all ground him in reality. His fingers tighten around yours, the intimacy of your entwined hands a stark contrast to the lust coursing through him.

He can’t stop thinking about how utterly beautiful you look, your regal composure gone, replaced by raw want. It’s sinful, how he can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth while your crown sits not too far away, a reminder of who you are — his Queen. And yet, here you are, on your knees, giving yourself to him so completely.

And then there’s the thought of what comes next. His cock twitches at the idea of getting you beneath him, of spreading your legs wide and burying himself in your warmth. He’s desperate to feel you around him, to watch your face twist with pleasure as he takes you, over and over again.

But even with all those thoughts swirling in his mind, one thing keeps echoing louder than the rest: the sheer power of this moment. The Queen, on her knees, sucking his cock like she’s wanted this as much as he has.

The thought sends another wave of heat through his body. He’s barely holding on, every moan, every stroke of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, more ragged, his hips beginning to move on their own, thrusting gently into your mouth. 

Before Jungkook can take control, you pull back, rising from the ground and denying him the release he craves with a teasing smile. His frustrated groan fuels your confidence as you straddle him again, your knees resting on either side of his hips. Your fingers intertwine with his, and you guide both of his hands behind his head, locking your arms around his neck. His arms cross behind him, muscles flexing as he fights to keep himself in check.

The intensity in his eyes is undeniable — burning with desire, frustration, and the raw need to touch you, yet restrained by the control you've taken. Every part of him is taut, his body tense beneath you, waiting, aching for your next move. His gaze never wavers, fixed on you with an almost desperate longing, as if the anticipation alone could undo him.

You lean in slowly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek, your breath brushing his skin. His chest rises and falls against yours, the heat between you both building to a near unbearable height. Then, lips grazing his ear, you whisper in a low, sultry voice, “I want you to fuck me the way a Queen should be fucked.”

Your words send a shudder through him, his body reacting instantly to your challenge. The restraint he’s been holding onto falters, his breathing turning ragged, his grip tightening slightly on your hands. The dominance of your demand ignites something primal in him, the heat in his gaze searing into you.

"Your Grace..." Jungkook murmurs, his voice deep and breathless, the title slipping out before he can stop it, laced with a mix of reverence and raw, uncontained desire. The slip into formality catches him off guard, as if he’s forgotten to leave the titles behind along with his armor. His jaw clenches, the tension in his body palpable as his control begins to fray at the edges. His eyes burn into yours, dark and hungry, as if your very presence has set him ablaze, and now, all he can do is watch helplessly as the flames consume him.

You feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back, and you smirk, rolling your hips against him, letting the friction drive him further into madness. “Are you going to make me wait, or must I command you again?”

That’s all it takes. His resolve snaps. With a low, feral growl, Jungkook releases your hands and grabs you by the thighs, lifting you effortlessly in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised giggle, heart racing at how easily he’s carrying you across the room. His strength, his commanding presence — it’s intoxicating, making your body heat with anticipation.

With a mischievous grin, he throws you down onto the bed, your body bouncing softly against the mattress. Jungkook is on you in an instant, crawling over you with a predatory grace, his body looming above yours, eyes dark and filled with intent. His hands press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you beneath him. The weight of him, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, has your breath catching in your throat.

His lips hover just inches from yours, teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “I’ll show you exactly how my Queen should be fucked.”

There’s a rough edge to his voice now, one that sends shivers down your spine. His hands trail down your sides, fingers curling around the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. He takes a moment to admire the sight of you beneath him, his gaze smoldering as he drinks in every inch of your bare skin.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Jungkook’s lips descend to your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your throat, your collarbone, and lower still, as his hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place. His touch is everywhere — greedy, relentless — stoking the fire that’s been building between you all night.

As his mouth moves lower, a soft moan escapes your lips, your body arching instinctively toward him, craving more. And just when you think you can’t take any more teasing, he pulls back, hovering above you once more, eyes dark with lust and promise.

Jungkook pulls off his tunic, standing before you, fully bare. His gaze is unwavering, filled with awe and raw desire as he drinks in the sight of you, every inch of your body drawing him in with quiet reverence. The heat of his stare is palpable, his lips parting slightly as his eyes travel from your breasts down to your stomach, pausing at the faint stretch marks left behind by your children. 

There’s no shame in his gaze, only admiration — those marks are a testament to your strength, the life you’ve brought into the world. His hand reaches out, hesitating for just a second before brushing over your skin, tracing the delicate lines with his fingertips, as if memorizing every detail. His touch is tender, contrasting the heat in his eyes, and the reverence in his expression makes your heart swell. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice hushed but filled with sincerity, almost as though he's speaking to himself. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. There’s no hesitation in his gaze, no second thoughts — just pure admiration.

You can’t help but smile. Despite being nearly bare beneath him, you don’t feel vulnerable. You feel cherished, worshipped even, as if this wasn’t the first time he’s seen you like this. There’s a sense of ease between you, as if his presence was always meant to be like this — intimate and without fear. 

Jungkook leans in closer, his lips trailing down to your hip bone, placing a soft, lingering kiss there. The sensation is both grounding and electrifying, sending a shiver through your body. You glance down, meeting his gaze — intense and burning with desire, the kind of look that makes your heart race and your breath falter. In that moment, you can feel the fire behind his eyes, as if the world has fallen away and you're the only thing that matters.

Without breaking the connection, he lowers himself further, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The kiss is soft, reverent, but full of promise, inching closer to the place where you crave his touch the most. Your breath catches in your throat, anticipation thick in the air, when he finally leans forward and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your pussy through your soaking wet underwear.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the sudden contact, and instinctively, you lift your leg, gently pressing your foot against his shoulder to stop him from going further. His eyes flash with surprise, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in them as he looks up at you, waiting for your command.

“Maybe another time,” you murmur, your voice breathless but firm. “I want your cock.”

Your words hang in the air, heavy with anticipation, and Jungkook’s expression shifts, darkening with pure lust. He gives a low growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs a little tighter as he quickly moves back up your body.

Jungkook wastes no time, his hands quick but careful as he pulls off your last piece of clothing and positions himself between your legs. His cock, already hard and slick with anticipation, brushes against your entrance, the warmth of him sending a ripple of electricity through your body. You can feel the tension in his muscles, every inch of him taut with restraint as he fights the urge to simply take you. He wants this moment to be more than just a rush of desire.

With a slow, deliberate nudge of his hips, he presses the tip of his cock against your core, the sensation both tantalizing and overwhelming. Your body reacts immediately, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he teases your entrance, the heat between you intensifying. His eyes are locked on yours, as if he’s savoring every second before fully sinking into you. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer, urging him to give you exactly what you’ve been yearning for. His lips crash onto yours in a heated kiss, the moment charged with raw, unspoken passion as he finally pushes into you.

“Oh Gods,” you moan, your back arching off the bed as the sudden stretch overwhelms you. Jungkook fills you completely, every inch of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch as your body adjusts to the delicious pressure. His movements slow for a moment, letting you feel every bit of him, the weight of his body grounding you as the heat between your legs spreads throughout your entire body.

Jungkook’s forehead drops to yours, his breathing ragged as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust. "You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice thick with restraint. His hands roam your body, gripping your hips as though he needs to hold onto something to keep himself from losing control completely.

Your fingers slide up his back, nails grazing his skin as you tug him closer, desperate for more. "Move," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I need you."

That’s all it takes.

With a low growl, Jungkook begins to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the sensation sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Each movement is deliberate, deep, and measured. Your moans mix with his breathless grunts, filling the room with the sounds of your shared desire.

Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust. His pace quickens, and soon, he’s moving faster, harder, the rhythm building as the pleasure between you grows. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder, more desperate as you cling to him, completely lost in the moment. 

Jungkook’s lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your skin between ragged breaths. “You feel so good… so fucking good,” he pants, his hips snapping against yours with growing urgency. 

Your hands tangle in his hair, your body responding to his with a need that’s been simmering for so long, now finally unleashed. "Don’t stop," you moan, your voice shaky as the heat within you builds to a breaking point. 

Jungkook’s thrusts become erratic, his breath hot against your ear. "Don’t think I can stop," he chuckles, his words sending a shiver through you just as the first waves of release begin to crash over you. 

You kiss him eagerly, teeth grazing his bottom lip before tugging at it playfully. Jungkook groans into your mouth, his hips stuttering for a moment at the sensation. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more heated as your hands pull him closer, your nails digging into his back.

He responds in kind, his lips crashing back onto yours, the intensity of his kiss matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He bites gently on your bottom lip in return, making you gasp into his mouth, your bodies completely in sync as the pleasure mounts between you.

Your kiss is a frenzy of passion, tongues dancing, breaths mingling, as every movement pulls you closer to the edge. You tug harder at his lip, and he growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins.

Jungkook’s pace becomes relentless, his control slipping as he loses himself in you. “The day of the Kingsguard posting,” he starts breathlessly, his voice low and rough as he thrusts into you. “When you walked onto the balcony… I saw you. Thought you were so pretty. So, so pretty.”

His words, spoken between ragged breaths, send a shiver down your spine, making you arch closer into him. You gasp, your hands clutching onto his shoulders as his confession wraps around you like a heated secret. The intensity in his eyes as he speaks, as he moves inside you, is overwhelming — his vulnerability laid bare, a part of himself he’s never shared with anyone else.

“I shouldn’t have thought it,” he continues, his voice thick with desire and restraint as his pace quickens, “but I couldn’t help it. I wanted you from that moment.”

You feel your heart pound in your chest, not just from the pleasure but from his raw honesty. Your lips part, but no words come out, only breathless moans as he pushes you closer to the edge. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips brushing your ear.

“I never thought I’d have you like this,” he whispers, his voice rough with awe and hunger, each word laced with the weight of unspoken desire. “But now that I do… I’m never letting go.”

His confession wraps around you, sending a shiver through your body as his movements become more intense. The passion in his eyes, the way his body presses into yours, has you spiraling, lost in the heat between you.

You raise a trembling hand, gently brushing his hair back, your fingertips lingering against his skin. “I’m yours,” you breathe, the words slipping from your lips like a vow.

The way his eyes darken, the way his grip tightens on you, tells you he’s heard it loud and clear. And in this moment, you know he’ll hold onto that promise as tightly as he holds onto you.

He laughs out a moan at this. His pace quickens, his thrusts deeper, harder, each one sending you spiraling further. Your moans mix with his, filling the room, the sound of skin against skin only adding to the fire between you. His hands roam your body, memorizing every curve, every inch of you like it’s the last time.

“I’m so close,” he whispers, his voice strained, his body trembling as he fights for control. His forehead presses against yours again, his eyes searching yours, desperate, as if he’s asking for permission to lose himself in you.

You nod, your own release building, teetering on the edge. “Cum with me,” you breathe, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”

With a few more deep, powerful thrusts, you feel Jungkook’s body tense as he releases into you, a low groan escaping his lips. The sensation triggers your own climax, waves of pleasure crashing through you as your body tightens around him. You gasp, arching against him, your hands clutching at his back as you ride out the overwhelming sensations together.

His name tumbles from your lips in a soft moan, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, the world outside fades — it's just the two of you, tangled together, hearts pounding in sync, as you both come down from your highs.

He doesn’t move right away, his weight still pressed against you, his hands tracing slow, soothing circles on your hips as he catches his breath. You can feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, a silent reminder of the intensity you just shared.

Finally, Jungkook picks his head up from your chest, his dark eyes soft as they meet yours. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, just because he finally can. It feels different now, with no hesitation between you, just pure connection. After pulling away, he shifts to lay beside you, pulling you against his chest, your bodies fitting together perfectly. 

You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, both of you catching your breaths, the calm after the storm. Jungkook’s fingers absentmindedly trace shapes on your back, lulling you into a peaceful haze. But then, he breaks the quiet with a teasing tone.

“Did I exceed your expectations, my Queen?” His voice is low and playful, a soft chuckle escaping him.

You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Arrogant, are we?” 

But you don’t let him respond. Instead, you sit up, straddling his waist once again, your grin mischievous as you lean down to kiss him, deeper this time, your lips lingering against his. 

“Might need to go again to give you a wholehearted answer,” you say with a smirk, looking down at the man who looks far too comfortable in your bed — a man who, by all means, shouldn’t be here.

His eyes widen for a moment before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, matching your energy. He chuckles, his hands gripping your waist firmly, his desire evident.

Jungkook knew that once the children were tucked safely into bed, these sneaky nights with you would be his favorite part of the day — full of far more excitement than he’d ever imagined.

The days stretched on like endless hourglasses, the sand moving far too slowly. Every moment of the daylight hours was consumed by anticipation, the constant pull of wanting the sun to sink and the moon to rise. It was during the night, when Jungkook would slip quietly into your chamber, that the world finally felt right.

Whether it was tangled sheets, quiet conversations, soft laughter, or simply lying in each other’s arms, those moments with him were the highlight of your days — only second to the joy of your children’s smiles, of course. But with Jungkook, time seemed to bend, each night feeling like a stolen treasure that you cherished more with every passing hour.

As much as you despised the act of walking past Jungkook during the day, pretending he wasn't your lover at night, the thrilling game of trying not to get caught was undeniably fun.

The secret, the tension of it, had its own special allure. Yet, there were moments when the near misses took a more terrifying turn.

Like that one time.

You'd been soaking in a bath, the water warm and fragrant with bubbles, the steam swirling around you like a blanket of comfort. But Jungkook, always unpredictable, had snuck in without a sound. Before you could even protest, he was stripping himself bare, sliding into the tub with you, the sudden shift in water making a small splash as he settled in.

Laughter filled the room as water overflowed, but that quickly faded into a mix of heavy breaths, wet skin, and the sound of sloppy kisses. Jungkook's hands gripped your waist as he leaned back, his head resting against the tub's edge, eyes locked on you. Your hips moved in sync, the sound of water splashing and your soft moans combining with his groans, creating a rhythm that made your heart race.

Then, just as the heat between you both reached its peak, a knock at the door shattered the moment. It was so sudden and unexpected that Jungkook's hand shot up, covering your mouth before you could release a gasp, freezing you in place. Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest.

"Your Grace, I have your warm towels," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The maid sounded so oblivious, so unaware of what was actually happening just beyond the wooden barrier.

Jungkook didn't move a muscle, still as stone, his hand resting over your lips as his eyes met yours with a mischievous glint. Slowly, he lifted his hand, urging you to speak.

"J- just leave them at the door," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heartbeat betrayed your calm facade. "I’ll grab them once I'm finished."

Jungkook stifled a chuckle, clearly finding the entire situation amusing as though it was nothing more than a joke to him. But you knew better. This was dangerous, reckless, and could cost both of you far more than just embarrassment.

"Very well, Your Grace," came the maid's voice, before the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance.

The moment she was gone, you slapped Jungkook's chest, eyes narrowed in mock fury. "We could've been caught," you said, your voice laced with both exasperation and something else — something darker, more thrilling. But the smile that tugged at your lips betrayed your feigned seriousness.

Jungkook grinned, his chest rising and falling with a quiet chuckle, as he pulled you back toward him, the playful tension still lingering in the air.

Because nights with Jungkook were always too short, he made sure to steal as many kisses and playful winks during the day as possible. The fleeting moments shared between you were like stolen treasures, hidden in plain sight.

Whenever the children finished their lessons, Jungkook was quick to position himself in front of the door to the next room they’d move into, knowing you'd soon follow, eager to check on them and hear about what they’d learned. Each time, like clockwork, you’d approach, ready to step past him, only for him to block your way with a teasing grin.

“Let me in,” you’d whine softly, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

He’d simply point to his cheek, signaling for a kiss as if he were making a royal decree. You’d roll your eyes but play along, leaning in. Just as your lips brushed his cheek, he’d turn his head swiftly, catching your kiss on his lips instead.

Your heart would race as you quickly pecked his lips once more, a mixture of thrill and worry filling you at the thought of someone walking down the corridor and catching you both. With a final flustered glance at him, you’d hurry into the chamber to join your children, trying to maintain your composure as you asked them about their day.

Meanwhile, Jungkook would stand tall outside the door, his expression serious, as though he was merely guarding the room. But the sparkle in his eyes and the lingering hint of a smile betrayed him, the playful mischief still present even as he forced himself to appear composed.

The only person who knew about your secret relationship with Jungkook was Atticus. You’d confided in him, and he had been overjoyed to learn he’d been right all along. He had always suspected something, but hearing it from you only fueled his excitement and pride at being in on the secret.

Jungkook’s devotion to you went far beyond his duty as a knight. On the surface, he played his role flawlessly, always by your side, always vigilant. To everyone else, he was simply your loyal protector, the ever watchful guard who would give his life without question. But beneath that armor, beneath the stern facade he wore in public, his loyalty ran much deeper.

He wasn’t just devoted to you as his Queen; he was devoted to you as the woman he loved, with a fierce, unshakable passion that transcended titles or obligations. Every time he stood by your side, it wasn’t just as your sworn knight but as the man who would do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant loving you in secret for the rest of his life.

In the quiet moments, when the world wasn’t watching, his love shone through. The way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his fingers lingered just a moment longer when they brushed against yours, or the way his lips would curl into a faint smile when he caught you stealing glances at him. It was in the way he held you at night, after everyone else had gone to bed, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke of a love so deep, words could never do it justice.

Jungkook didn’t need grand gestures or declarations of love. His devotion was in the small things, the quiet sacrifices, the way he protected you not just with his sword but with his heart. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word in the darkness was a testament to his unwavering loyalty — not to the crown, not to his duty, but to you.

And though the world might never see the depth of his devotion, you felt it every day. In the way he watched over you, in the way he shielded you from not only physical threats but from the weight of loneliness that sometimes crept in. He was your protector, not just in body but in spirit.

As the years passed, your secret love remained hidden, but his devotion never wavered. No matter the risks, no matter how many times you had to pretend in public that he was nothing more than a knight, Jungkook’s heart was yours, fully and completely.

In the end, it didn’t matter that the world would never know the truth. You knew. You saw the way he loved you, not just as a knight sworn to protect you but as a man devoted to your heart, forever bound to you in a way that went beyond duty or title.

And in that devotion, you found your peace. Because you knew, no matter what happened, Jungkook would always be by your side — not just as your protector but as your lover, your confidant, and the one person who truly understood the depths of your soul.

© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.

[ctrlhope]

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[lovieku]

OLDER ⋆ 정국

you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.

pairing: dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader

genre: smut, dilf au, best friend’s father

warnings: lower case intended, porn with some lots of plot, age gap (21 n 38), dom!jk, sub!reader, voyeurism, messy blow job, fingering, oral (f receiving), bit of tit play (small chested reader yayyy), two (2) spanks, unprotected sex, cum eating, dirty talk, a bit of degradation, but also praise, pet names, some angst hehe, she falls first he falls harder??? but miscommunication sadly, forbidden love

ratings: 18+ / mdi

word count: 18.2k

a/n: i kinda hate this it doesnt make sense anymore to me but when i realized i was already 12k words in so 😃 here you are! its also so hard to write smut for me because i get carried away but then it becomes too overwhelming Help. anyways. im back hey!!!!

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in the backseat of his car, you stare forward at his hands gripping the steering wheel. there’s something hypnotic about the way his fingers curl around the leather. you bite your lips, an attempt to suppress the heat easily pooling low in your belly, your thighs rubbing together to conceal the effects of your lewd thoughts.

but amid them, one stands out. it’s the one that puts a shameless, selfish smile on your face, when you fixate on the image of the fourth finger of his left hand lacking a gold band.

it’s been a few months since that day— since areum, your best friend, showed up at your door in a frantic state, her finger jabbing the bell over and over in a panicked rhythm that jolted you from your bed.

you had nearly tripped down the stairs in your rush to swing the entrance open, and when you did, you were instantly tackled by your friend collapsing into your arms, her tears soaking through your shirt.

kicking the door shut, your hands busy embracing areum with panic in your eyes, you tried to steady both her and yourself. in between her uncontrollable sobs, shaking you to the core, she let her worries tumble out her mouth. her words came in a torrent, fast and breathless, barely giving you any time to fully process them as she buried her face in your neck, her body trembling.

it took a moment for the huge news to break through your thick, slowed down brain, but then it struck you, areum chanting it repeatedly as if she couldn’t grasp her mind around it: her parents were splitting up. divorce was imminent.

your own disbelief mirrored hers, but for very different reasons. you felt it in the way your shock turned into excitement; indecorous, depraved exhilaration, with your friend still hiding in your chest.

even as her sobs echoed in your ears, your mind latched onto one single thought, repeating like a mantra: he’s single. mr. jeon is single.

you felt terribly guilty when you sensed a smile that you couldn’t quite suppress stretching over your features, and the jittery sensation that came with it flowed your body and reached your hands, tightening them around areum harder to try and squeeze the shame out of yourself.

since that day, you’ve lost count of how many afternoons you’ve spent at areum’s house. you’ve been doing your best to be the friend she needs, to keep her company when what she fears the most is loneliness.

you’ve been a constant presence, helping her through the mountain of neglected work she left piling up, distracting her with baking sessions, or mindlessly binge watching entire seasons of friends on lazy evenings. anything to keep her mind off the pain.

but each visit is an opportunity. a fleeting chance to see him. to study how he moves around the house with that quiet intensity of his, a presence able to fill every room like a calm, steady current.

you’ve memorized many of his mannerisms. the way his eyes soften when he looks at areum; the way his mouth twitches into a faint smile when she tries to cheer him up; the way he nods at you in recognisment, silently letting you know he’s grateful for what you’re doing to help his daughter.

you wish you could help him too. in other ways. ways you know you shouldn’t be thinking about.

you can’t avoid it, though. you’ve witnessed him come back home from work countless times now, watched the tension etched across his features as he steps through the door, wished you could be the one to ease it off his shoulders. let your hand travel down his chest, reach his belt.

you feel disgusting unfailingly, but how can you not let your mind wander when he groans so deliciously every time he loosens the tie around his neck and kicks off his shoes?

you know exactly what his next move is, the imperceptible sigh melting the weariness off his face the moment he greets his daughter, a tender smile breaking through his exhaustion.

“any requests for dinner tonight, girls?” he always asks, his gaze jumping between areum and you on the living room couch, waiting for a response.

after your friend replies she likes whatever her daddy cooks, your stomach twists with nerves when his eyes meet yours to make sure there’s no complaints, and you quickly shake your head, biting your lips to keep from saying something foolish. is your dick on the menu? perhaps?

and the man can cook. exceptionally well. he moves around the kitchen with an effortless grace, every movement purposeful, every dish you have the honor of tasting better than the last.

while you help setting the table, you catch yourself staring more times than you should, mesmerized by the way he chops vegetables or stirs a pot, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s anything he’s not good at.

fuck. is there even a single flawed bone in this man’s body? with every day you spend at his house, you’re convinced there can’t be.

you want him to notice you, the same way you notice him. you tell yourself you’re just being a good friend to areum, but you know there’s more behind your constant visits.

there’s definitely more behind the way your skirts get shorter, your tops tighter, your bras purposefully not worn.

you feel crazed when you convince yourself his gaze falls upon your exposed thighs when he puts a plate in front of you at dinner, or when his eyes seem to be caught, only for a fleeting second, by your hardened nipples, evident through your poor excuses of shirts.

even when your interactions don’t go further than a brief exchange about college and areum or quiet, polite smiles in passing, the mere thought of being around him sends a rush through your veins, a dark and forbidden feeling tumbling in your stomach.

you’ve been seeking more and more of that after one particular night, your feet making their way down the stairs after areum had fallen asleep and you had rathered take your leave. you found him stretched on the couch, a drink in his hand.

his eyes hazily followed your movements, his voice low and slightly slurred, “are you leaving already?”

hearing him acknowledge you outside of the usual context of areum’s presence made you stop dead in your tracks, your reddened cheeks turning to face him, the dark color spreading all over your features when you fully took him in.

he was cladded in a comfortable attire, one you almost never saw on him, black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt falling sweetly on his shoulders, the short sleeves revealing the intricate ink designs running all over his right arm.

you shook yourself out of your trance suddenly, stuttering, “huh… yes. didn’t wanna be a bother.”

he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, “oh, you’re not. i wish all of my daughter’s friends were like you.”

his words hung in the air, with sincerity and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. you simply laughed along, a nervous, shaky sound escaping your lips, trying to mask the way your heart was racing with desperation for the gods to grace you with the depth of his tipsy voice all night.

to this day, you still think your horny and delusional prayer was heard when he nodded to the empty space beside him, lifting his glass slightly, “care for a drink? you’re 21 now, right?”

you only nodded shyly, more out of reflex than actual thought, slowly making your way to sit beside him just as he had instructed. the proximity sent a wave of heat through your body, your insides melting with the lava, the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent replacing the burned ground with a trail of flowers.

you were willing to do whatever he wanted from you at that moment, even if it meant downing the harsh liquor he poured into a glass for you. you took a sip, struggling not to grimace at the burn that followed. he smiled.

it was probably the alcohol loosening his tongue, but that night, for the first time, you saw a side of mr. jeon that he kept carefully hidden away, his vulnerability a strong characteristic of it.

his words tumbled out in a quiet, almost confessional tone. he spoke about his marriage, about how he had always felt somewhat trapped. still a teenager himself, he was only 17 when he found out his soon to be wife was pregnant with areum; 23 when they decided to marry.

his voice soft, but tinged with a sadness you hadn’t heard before, he admitted he never felt like he got to live his youth to the fullest, certainly blessed with his perfect baby, but also chained down by responsibilities and a tightening pressure he shouldn’t have had to deal with at such a young age.

then, with his eyes burning into your shiny and equally flaring ones, he paused just for a moment, and you felt he could see right through you, into the very core of your being. that he had you all figured out.

“when i look at you,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, his gaze traveling down your bare thighs, squished together on his couch, “i feel like i get a bit of that youth back. you’re so full of life, so fresh, so… full of love for my daughter. i’m glad she has you. glad we have you.”

as he found your orbs again, you noticed his had significantly darkened. you were sure your heart would have failed you if you had kept navigating in his gaze; instead, you looked down at your hands folded in your lap.

that night, he paid for your uber and insisted you sent him a text when you made it home. it was only read the morning after, and left unanswered.

even now, you’re convinced that if it weren’t for the whisky, those words would have stayed locked away in his mind, never seeing the light of day. not even if he were forced to speak them at gunpoint.

still, you’re grateful for the magical effects of alcohol and how they’ve brought you a tiny bit closer to give a look into his complicated world. it has awakened something in you, something stronger and far more dangerous than anything you’ve felt before.

you want to be there for him. help him through the doubts and regrets. be the youth he missed. take the weight off his shoulders. let him use you on that couch.

that feral, undomesticated monster inside you is a hundred times hungrier when, exiting the library building with areum by your side, babbling in your ear about today’s plans, you see his sleek mercedes parked outside.

he honks, getting his daughter’s attention too, who excitedly walks over the car when she spots it. the sound works as a pavlovian trigger for you, it has your mouth salivating and your senses alert, catching up with your friend and getting in the backseat.

it has been a few weeks since you last saw him, both you and areum too busy with assignments and outside activities, and his charming smile as he asks about the day cuts the breath from your lungs.

you’re silent as your friend fills him in, your ears struggling to pick up her speech as it only takes a few more seconds for your eyes to be caught by an interesting detail, one that has your world rocked: he finally took his wedding ring off.

the wedding ring that has stood as an unspoken boundary between you and your reckless fantasies is gone.

the realization hits hard, and suddenly, the reality around you narrows. your mind veers into dangerous territory, conjuring visions that feel too real.

you can almost feel his left hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you in, claiming you. and the images are so vivid, so consuming, that you don’t even notice when areum nudges your shoulder.

you don’t register her calling your name until the sound finally cuts through, pulling you back to the present with a jolt.

you blink a few times, trying to ground yourself, before turning to face her, areum’s voice light but her expression amusedly curious, “dad asked you a question.”

your whole face drops, panic clear in your features, and heat immediately rushes to your cheeks. you’ve been zoning out, lost in a daydream about the very man sitting in front of you, the one you literally just ignored, too busy thinking of him. the irony is almost too much.

your eyes find his in the rearview mirror, and the slight smirk on his lips only makes you look even dumber, stuttering all throughout your explanation, “sorry, mr. jeon. i— um. i was distracted.”

he simply chuckles, low and clearly not offended by your lapse in attention. his focus is back on the road, but as he speaks you keep yours on the words he’s directing at you this time, “it’s okay. i always tell you, just jeongguk is fine. i was asking about your day, you seem a little worn out.”

“oh. i—it went well! i guess i’m just tired,” the words feel clumsy as they leave your mouth, but you hope they sound convincing enough. you just can’t stop your eyes from falling on his left hand.

“well, you can’t be!” it’s areum’s excitement interrupting your furious imagination and bubbling over, “you need to help me set up for tonight. then, we’re gonna do our makeup, our hair, and dress up. i’m so excited!”

right. the reason why you could finally see mr. jeon after weeks and why you’re currently driving to his house is because it’s areum’s birthday.

the day feels significant in so many ways. you’re excited to witness your best friend turn a year older even after the hardships she’s been faced with. honored that you’re the one she’s chosen to help make this night perfect, ensure every detail is just how she’s pictured this moment to be like. and you can’t deny that you feel slightly nervous at the prospect of tonight, knowing there’s going to be faces you’re not that well acquainted with. you’d say you’re a bit awkward with new people, but you’ll try to bear through it for the sake of areum’s happiness.

but mostly, you feel guilty. because no matter how much you try to focus on your friend, the thought that truly makes your insides all mushy with fuzziness is the fact that you’re going to be in the proximity of her dad, again.

you crave for the smallest moments. the brief second where you’ll catch his gaze. the way his cologne will subtly linger in the hallways of his home. your eyes have a habit of drifting to his hands, those strong, veined, tattooed hands that move so smoothly whenever he speaks.

even now, in his car, as you glance at his side profile, there’s a ridiculous and almost cosmic sense of gratitude. like you’ve been chosen. blessed by whatever god to exist on this planet at the same time as him, to simply witness his presence.

it should be enough. it really should. but you’re a sinner. you’re greedy, wanting more. always more.

that buzzing sensation sticks with you throughout the entire day. the hours are packed with frantic energy, as you and areum run around in anxious over-organization, only for her own panic to rub off on you, making your movements quick and precise, as if every step has to be executed flawlessly.

and with all the chaos, he’s there in the back of your mind. mr. jeon. his presence is overwhelming, even when he’s not around.

he helps for a while, joining you in the backyard as you set up for the evening, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the whirlwind around you. but then he disappears into his studio, retreating into his own space, leaving you to your tasks, and you don’t see him until hours later.

yet, you still feel him, as if he’s always near. his upstairs studio’s window faces the garden, and it’s enough to make you hyper-aware of your every gesture.

you straighten your back, slow your steps, each action more deliberate, because even though you don’t know if he’s really watching, it feels like he is.

getting your makeup, hair and outfit ready with areum does slightly ease that sensation off your chest. you love these moments with her. shared girlhood when you do each other’s eyeliner, the flutter of excitement as you zip up dresses, as you rummage through her closet, searching for the perfect piece to complete your look.

but even then, you’re brought back to the man working just a few rooms down the hallway. it’s astonishing how easily areum has access to everything she wants. the power her dad holds, the kind of wealth that makes life feel effortless in ways you can’t help but envy.

for her, money isn’t just something that buys things. it’s a silent force that shapes her world. she doesn’t have to worry about how much something costs or wonder if she’ll ever have enough. it’s as simple as snapping her fingers.

it must be nice to have that kind of life. to have someone like him in your corner, with wealth that seems to fall into place as easily as leaves from a tree. you don’t resent her for it, not really. but it makes you wonder what it would be like to live in a world where nothing is out of reach.

where everything, even the man who haunts your thoughts, could be yours with the right words or a simple gesture.

when you see him again, you’re standing in his kitchen. areum is still upstairs, fixing the tiniest details to her makeup, but you decided to come down early, just in case the first guests arrive, wanting to be helpful, wanting to keep yourself busy.

you’re momentarily lost in the view outside the window, the backyard garden bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights, their soft hues blending beautifully with the sage and pastel yellow decorations. the setup looks like something out of a dream, and it pulls a small, unbidden smile to your face.

the quiet peace is interrupted by the sound of a cupboard cracking open behind you, and you startle, your heart giving a quick jump.

you turn, following the noise, and there he is— jeongguk, bent over as he retrieves a bottle of red wine from the lower cupboard.

as he straightens up, bottle in hand, he finds your eyes already staring in his. he’s uncharacteristically deliberate as he still lets his gaze wander up and down your figure.

you’ve dressed carefully for tonight, choosing a flowy pink dress that flutters delicately against your thighs. the corset top hugs your waist in all the right ways, accentuating your shape, the kind of dress that makes you feel just a little more confident, a little more seen.

but now, under his gaze, you feel exposed, like he’s seeing more than just the fabric of your dress. his eyes linger longer than usual, and when his orbs dip to your chest, it’s almost as if he hesitates, like he’s trying to tear his eyes away but can’t.

you’re not even sure if the engrossed look on his face is real or just the product of your own twisted fantasies.

still, your body responds instinctively, your hand drifting up to play with your necklace, an unconscious gesture, while your other arm wraps around your waist, as if you’re trying to hold yourself together under the intensity of his stare.

when his eyes return to your wide ones, he gives a subtle nod towards your dress, and the smile that curves his lips is warm, but you can’t decipher that something else it wants to communicate.

his voice is smoother than you’ve ever heard it, as if literal honey, sweet and rich, is dripping out from his pillowy lips, “what a beauty. you look very pretty.”

you weren’t expecting that. it steals the breath from your lungs. it’s not just the words, or even the way he says them, velvet wrapping around your senses.

it’s how he seems to drink you in, his refined wine nothing in comparison. like you’re something to be savored just as carefully.

at this point, you’re seriously questioning if there was a stronger substance in the liquor you and areum shared earlier, even if you hadn’t taken big quantities, each small sip burning your throat and making you grimace at the sensation. but you figure it must have been enough to distort the current reality around you. or maybe, mr. jeon is the inebriated one.

you don't know how you find the voice to speak, or if you even do, the word escaping your lips in an uncoordinated mess, almost imperceptible, “thanks.”

he hums deeply in response, and it vibrates through the space between you. you let out a shaky exhale the moment his gaze finally shifts away. he resumes the task at hand, effortlessly opening the bottle of wine and turning his back to you as he reaches for a glass from the higher cabinet.

the muscles in his shoulders shift under his shirt, and for a split second, you’re unsure what to do. whether to stay, add anything else, flee the room entirely. make small conversation about areum’s birthday. comment on his look, too. oh, you have a lot to say about it.

you can tell he just wrapped up his work-related tasks for today from the way the first three buttons of his white shirt are opened, revealing his deep cleavage. his hair slightly tousled, but in a way that looks purposeful, perfectly intentional. his slacks hug him deliciously, rounding the curve of his ass and making you swallow hard.

your eyes can’t resist trailing over him, but they quickly move up to stare at the ceiling, feigning deep thought when he turns back to face you, and the counter.

surprisingly, he’s the one to break the silence first, again. the rich sound fills the air as he pours the red wine, the motion so precise, so fluid, it feels like witnessing an authentic art form.

he doesn’t bother looking up at you as he asks, seemingly casual, but slightly amused, “is there a boy you’re trying to impress tonight?”

the way he steers the conversation makes you less agitated, more confident. especially with the question thrown your way. teasing, almost belittling. you can see he’s not even trying to hide his pretty smirk, his focus on the wine flowing into the glass.

the question lingers, and you twirl your necklace around your fingers, smoothing down your dress with your other hand, your eyes flitting to his naked left hand, “mh… you could say so.”

of course, you’re not thinking about a boy. mr. jeon is no boy— he’s a man. the kind women dream about but know they’ll never find. the kind that belongs on the big screen or in the pages of a novel, with his effortless charm, his wealth, his looks that stop you in your tracks.

but he’s in front of you. and he’s tall, muscular, with hands that could crush or caress, tattooed in a way that makes your mouth dry up and water all at once.

it’s him you want to impress. you want to affect him the way he affects you, with effortless intensity. you want to pull him in, make him look at you the way he makes your world tilt on its axis with just a glance.

you’re hypnotized as you witness him in one of his rich man activities, performing a ritual with the wine glass. he brings it to his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the aroma.

there’s something so practiced, so sensual in the way he handles the glass, the liquid dancing with delicate precision, as if even this simple act holds meaning. you can’t look away.

when he's satisfied, he finds you again, and your mouth is slightly open without you even realizing it. the moment he lifts the glass to his lips, you bite your own, almost harshly, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

his smile is soft, but there’s something unsettling in its honesty, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

he mutters into the glass, his words resounding even stronger, “well, he’d be a fool not to fall for you.”

the implications of his comment make you swallow audibly, while he downs his first sip of the wine with fine ease, his adam’s apple bobbing with it. the whole time, his eyes never leave yours.

a thick silence stretches between you, and you wish you could break it but you don’t know how. your mind spins with the unspoken tension, but he seems entirely comfortable with it. the only sound filling the space is the quiet hum of the house.

he places the glass back on the counter, the soft clink of it slicing through the quiet. smoothly, he nudges it in your direction, his movements slow, as if testing the waters.

his voice is inviting, even more than usual, “you want some?”

”is that wine?” you instantly cringe at the way you sound strained.

he hums, a low sound of affirmation, watching you carefully.

you briefly glance at the glass, “i’ve never had it.”

”try it, then.”

with a slow twist of his fingers around the base, he slides the glass toward you. as it moves across the marble surface, you notice how he rotates it imperceptibly, but purposefully, so that the side where his lips touched the rim is now facing you.

the gesture is subtle, but the intent behind it is clear. at least to your deranged fantasies.

there’s a faint lip mark where his mouth had been, and the sight of it pulls you in, making your pulse pound in your ears. you look back up at him, finding his gaze still on you, his expression unreadable but heavy with implication.

without a word, you lift the glass, your fingers wrapping clumsily around the stem. you bring it to your lips, your mouth closing over the spot his lips had just pressed on.

the wine hits your tongue— bitter, sharp, and unfamiliar. you gulp hard, the liquid burning slightly as it slides down your throat. your face scrunches involuntarily, a clear sign of distaste. the richness of the flavor is too much for you, and you can’t help but grimace as the aftertaste lingers.

he watches, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. when you set the glass down, he effortlessly picks it back up and brushes his fingers across the rim.

his tone laced with amusement, he asks, “like it?”

you shake your head quickly, trying to hide your discomfort.

his chuckle is low, a soft rumble that makes your stomach flip. swirling the wine gently, he muses, “i heard there’s going to be alcohol tonight.”

you groan lightly, slumping your shoulders, “ugh, i know.”

the endearment rolls off his tongue like a secret meant just for you, his voice dipping into something softer, more intimate, “make sure you don’t drink too much, pretty face. i’ll be around.”

just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your thoughts spinning. pretty face?

what just happened? you’re not sure, but you’ve definitely stepped into something dangerous, something you can’t quite shake.

it’s hard to do so, even as the birthday party kicks off. the energy in the backyard shifts as more guests arrive. lively voices and unfamiliar faces begin to fill the space. areum’s laughter cuts through the hum, infectious and bright, drawing everyone in.

it all contrasts sharply with the weight still hanging in your chest from your earlier encounter with mr. jeon. your eyes keep darting toward the house, toward where you know he is, even though the logical part of you tells you to stop.

you stand at the entrance to the garden for a moment, taking in the scene. the subtle smell of flowers mixes with the faint scent of food, and your best friend bounces around the space, radiant in her dress. you’re genuinely happy for her, honored to share this moment.

and with your best efforts, you start engaging with others, smiling as you talk to some classmates and mutual friends, but it’s all surface-level. your mind is elsewhere.

it’s only later, as the evening progresses and the party settles into a rhythm, that you begin to relax. mainstream music plays in the background, and it inevitably involves everybody, as some classic party games become the main entertainment.

long after the cake and the gift-opening, the group gathers into a loose circle, throwing each other never have i ever questions.

you can’t help the way you all still feel like teenagers deep down, and how you get foolishly excited whenever the topic gets hot, and hints at anything that is sex related.

childish and immature, you know, but your ears still perk when the first probing question is tossed out.

“never have i ever been fingered.”

areum instantly shushes it, her eyes panickedly looking back to the house in hopes her dad isn’t around. laughter bubbles just as quickly, both because of the question and the girl’s reaction.

as expected, many reach for their drink, and you do too. the few present boys holler in a teasing manner, gaining some eye rolls.

sheepishly, the plastic cup touches your lips and you take the smallest sip from your punch. you can’t appear unbothered like your other peers, your cheeks subtly flaming as the embarrassing memories rush to your mind.

it’s silent, the small plea you telepathically send to anyone that might be listening. you pray for the topic to shift to something else, something that won’t inevitably put you at the center of the attention. something you can relate to.

but of course, god is not on your side. the questions only dig deeper, wandering in uncharted territory (at least for you), and you never reach for your glass again.

you can only sink further in your chair as everybody else around you seems even more lively with the way the game has turned, sharing their experiences, giggling as they listen, refilling their cups.

beside you, areum buzzes with energy as every question is just something for her to drink to, nothing that shocks her or that she isn’t familiar with.

never have i ever given head.

never have i ever been ate out.

never have i ever rode someone.

it’s undeniable, the way your skin heats up. with how you’ve been spending your whole day, fantasizing about the man who’s probably already asleep in his bedroom by now, your friends sharing their adventures only fuels your imagination.

you feel dirty when you put yourself in those scenarios, and for every daring moment they relive, the figure that appears beside you is always mr. jeon.

if only you turned your head, just for a moment, and glanced toward the kitchen window that faces the backyard.

you would have seen the same man dominating your thoughts, staring intently at the scene unfolding outside.

jeongguk is hidden in the shadows, the darkness of the house swallowing him whole, with every light turned off. maybe that’s why neither you nor areum notice him.

you don’t see him. you don’t feel him. you’re too caught up in the moment, too consumed by your own desires, unaware that the man that put you in that same condition is standing so close, watching.

jeongguk traces your every move with his intense gaze. he studies how your face dips down at every new question, how your smile seems just a little too tight, too forced when listening to the stories, the ones that make you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

if you don’t notice it, he does almost immediately— the way the attention in the circle shifts toward you.

the glances thrown your way become layered with a subtle curiosity, laced with something that looks like concern. but then, in the eyes of a few, jeongguk catches a faint trace of judgment.

it’s there, in the tilt of their heads, in the way they exchange fleeting looks with one another, as if they sense your unease and interpret it as something lesser. something they can pick apart.

his jaw tightens as he observes, that familiar protective instinct stirring within him. it makes his hands twitch by his side. he stays rooted in place.

eventually, the moment you clearly seem to dread the most (it doesn’t take a genius to know. it’s written on your face. or maybe, he got so used to studying you. it comes easy to him. knowing you,) follows.

it makes you want to vanish into the thin air caressing your legs, the way the question is put out with intent, an only pretending-to-be-careful tone wrapping it, all pairs of eyes instantly directed in your direction.

“never have i ever… had sex.”

you feel trapped, a momentary panic bubbling in your chest as you reach for your cup, hesitant. the rim hovers near your lips as you avoid every expectant glance, taking the smallest sip you can manage.

a murmur ripples through the circle. you can’t decipher it, too busy feeling the heat spread across your face. it’s only later that you realize no one else drank. the question had been crafted specifically for you, a silent test.

lara exhales, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “woah, i was getting worried for a second there, ___.”

you barely have time to react before areum steps in, her voice sharp in your defense, “what’s wrong with never having had sex, either way?”

“nothing, but—”

you’re not sure why you speak, and why you choose your speech that way specifically. you cut in before you even realize what you’re doing, driven by a sudden urge to explain yourself, an unshakable need to clarify forcing itself up your throat, “i only took a small sip, though.”

the group’s collective curiosity spikes, attention zeroed in on you like never before. you feel it— everyone waiting for you to continue, to reveal something you’ve kept to yourself until now. so, you give in, words tumbling out against your better judgment.

you clear your throat, straighten your back against your chair, your tone evasive, “i technically am not a virgin, but…”

the expectation drips from every person around you, their wide orbs trained on you, and for some reason you continue, gulping audibly before providing them with an explanation they don’t deserve, “when we— did it, he um… he got his tip in, but— god, this is embarrassing.”

“c’mon, tell us!”

you sigh, pressing forward with the humiliating truth, “he came, like, two seconds after. so, i felt nothing.”

the laughter that erupts is immediate, your friends covering their mouths in shock and amusement. you can only chuckle nervously, shrinking in your seat with a deep, liberating exhale.

yunjin pats your shoulder beside you, “that’s so sad, babe. we need to find you a real man.”

a strange sense of relief courses through you, the adrenaline from finally being acknowledged and validated by your friends swelling within, and you quickly learn how the buzz spreading to your body after taking part in sharing one of your experiences awakens you significantly.

you don’t know why, but you keep talking, oversharing, feeding into the newfound attention, “oh, i’ve been waiting for one in particular.”

you quickly become the center of attention for different reasons than the previous ones, now. their curiosity flares again, eyes wide with excitement as they beg for more details. who is it? tell us!

their voices overlap, but you dismiss them all with a playful shake of your head, giggles bubbling up as you try to evade their questions.

but just as quickly as the moment came, it fades when you glance to the side, and your smile drops.

jeongguk’s eyes meet yours immediately.

the intensity of the gaze knocks the breath from your lungs, the air thick between you as time seems to slow.

he’s been watching the entire time, arms crossed, the muscle in his jaw tensing as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. there’s a quiet frustration etched into his expression, a subtle irritation with your friends’ behavior. but it’s more than that. there’s something stirred by your confession.

your inexperience. your innocence. the untarnished parts of you he’s only beginning to realize he wants to corrupt.

the truth is, he’s known for a long time. longer than he’d like to admit, really. but he’s never let himself feel it fully until now.

it wasn’t something that hit him all at once. no, it crept up on him slowly, over the months. he’s always known you were beautiful, in that distant, untouchable way. you’re his daughter’s best friend, after all.

but he couldn’t help his eyes from lingering on you a little too long when you’d come over to hang out with areum, how his heartbeat would quicken up when he’d let himself be coddled by the warmth of your helping actions, the way his muscles would tense when he’d catch sight of you lounging by the pool.

he’d been good at keeping it under bay. but you weren’t subtle, not even the slightest. your fleeting glances, your breath hitching whenever he was near, your clothes putting you on display for him. it all made it harder.

even more when you’ve been nothing but the proof that angels exist, and at some point he convinced himself you were sent on earth to fill the void he felt his whole life, with your unconditional care towards his daughter and your pupils widening whenever they’d land on his.

and earlier, in the kitchen. he’s used to being in control, but the way you responded to his presence, to the compliment he gave you, had moved something deep inside him.

maybe it was seeing you tonight, all grown up and standing there in that dress, hugging your figure deliciously. how you carried yourself, confident yet unsure, mature yet untouched.

hearing you talk about your inexperience, about that brief, awkward encounter with a boy who clearly didn’t know what he was doing. watching you squirm under your friends’ teasing questions, witnessing how you tried to explain yourself.

it’s like it all clicks into place for him. and for the first time, he’s letting himself acknowledge it.

jeongguk wants you.

he knows it’s wrong. so wrong. he’s never felt this way about someone so much younger than him, and yet, the need to be the first one to truly touch you, to show you what it means to be wanted by a real man, makes his blood run hot.

it’s dangerous, the way these thoughts take hold of him now. maybe it’s the way you’ve changed lately, stepping into womanhood but still holding onto that wide-eyed innocence. or maybe it’s him. maybe he’s the one who’s changed, his resistance crumbling little by little.

he feels disgusting. selfish, his stomach swirling with nerves. dirty, his fingers twitching and begging to free his insides from such feelings.

but there’s simply no ignoring it anymore, no pretending like you’re just areum’s friend. that boundary he set in his mind is starting to blur. he’s old enough to know better, but old enough to know exactly what he wants.

your eyes widen with terror, meeting jeongguk’s own hardened gaze. he wants to tell you, wants you to know, but the way your startled expression lingers in his narrowed eyes makes him hesitate. it fills him with uncertainty, an unfamiliar feeling, one he rarely contends with.

the moment is abruptly interrupted when one of areum’s friends, an older guy she’s met through her dad’s colleague, crashes into you from behind, draping his weight over your shoulders.

you struggle not to stumble forward, holding yourself on the arms of your chair while you look to the side, and immediately try to pull away when you realize the unwanted proximity.

but it’s hard, you’re weaker than the boy’s embrace, holding you still and wiggling his eyebrows, his tone playful as he ruffles your hair, “is it me?”

the people around you laugh, the sound light and carefree, but the way your body stiffens, the clear discomfort in your eyes— jeongguk notices.

and he also notices (reluctantly) the ugly feeling making space in his stomach the more that guy’s face moves closer to yours. his jaw twitches, the muscle at his temple ticking.

he can’t just stand there doing nothing anymore.

the sudden sound of the door to the garden opening catches everyone’s attention, and your gaze flies over in that direction.

jeongguk steps out, his presence commanding, and your expression drops. areum’s eyes grow wide, instantly sensing something wrong in the way her father is looking at the scene. his eyes are too dark, too sharp, and if no one else detects it, you and his daughter surely do.

still, the taller boy behind you moves up again, taking a step back from your seat, and jeongguk seems to reserve him a look you find hard to decipher. it’s firm, heavy with a warning.

“areum,” he calls, his voice calm but edged, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

she’s quick to move toward him, and you can’t help but try to listen in on what he’s saying to her.

but the voices of your friends rise again, loud and boisterous, filling the space with chatter, drowning out any chance you had of overhearing.

you sigh, and when you return to your slumped position on your chair, you can’t ignore how all the girls around you are sneaking glances at him, their giggles piercing through the air as they whisper among themselves.

jeongguk has always had a certain effect on people, and tonight is no different. you hear some of their comments, but they don’t fully register in your mind.

all you can focus on is the bitter feeling rising in your chest.

you bite the inside of your cheek, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. it sickens you, the way you have to share the image of him with everyone else.

you wish only your eyes had been granted the gift of looking at him, of admiring the way his shirt stretches across his chest or how his hair falls perfectly, even when tousled.

but instead, he’s a spectacle for everyone to enjoy, and you hate it.

when areum returns, she’s slightly slumped over, her energy deflated. behind her, mr. jeon stands with his arms crossed, a small, condescending smile tugging at his lips.

areum’s voice is low as she announces, “the party’s over, guys.”

the subtle groans of disappointment echo around you as your friends try to protest, giving up when met with no possible negotiation. they then gather their things, saying their goodbyes and slowly trickling out, only after trying to argue about it.

once the last guest has left, it’s just the three of you, left to clean up the remnants of the night in the dimly lit garden.

jeongguk barely looks at you. his focus is elsewhere. on the mess, on areum, on anything but you.

as you bend down to gather some empty cups, you steal a look at him again. he’s helping clean up too, though his motions are deliberate and slow.

it’s silent for a while as each one of you picks up their own task. teamwork seems to be efficient, every area of the backyard slowly regaining its original aspect.

until areum yawns dramatically, stretching her arms above her head as she makes her way over to you and her father. she mumbles, blinking heavily. "’m so sleepy."

jeongguk raises an eyebrow, glancing at the still-messy garden, some leftover cups and plates scattered across the tables, and the chairs strewn about from the night's festivities.

he teases lightly, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "oh, really? you’re just gonna leave all this mess behind?"

for a moment, the weight of his words hangs in the air. you and areum both freeze, glancing at each other with wide eyes, unsure if he’s serious. the pause is brief, but it’s enough for tension to rise in your chest.

but then, jeongguk’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“just kidding,” he chuckles, his tone warm now, the joke clear. “go sleep, c’mon. it’s past your bedtime.”

areum sighs with exaggerated relief, rolling her eyes before stepping forward to wrap her arms around her dad in a loose hug. she mumbles into his chest, “i’m not a kid anymore, dad. i don’t have a bedtime.”

he chuckles with a lightness that was foreign to you until that moment, and he leans down, pressing his lips gently to the top of her head, his voice low and tender as he whispers, “whatever you say. happy birthday, reumie.”

it’s such a simple moment, nothing grand or elaborate, but the intimacy of it, the quiet affection between father and daughter, makes your heart clench.

you watch them with stars in your eyes, completely captivated by this rare portrayal of vulnerability from mr. jeon. he’s always been the composed, collected man in the background of areum’s life, but here, he’s just a father, brimming with love for his daughter.

you almost feel like an intruder witnessing such a private exchange, but you can’t pull your eyes away. every detail — his hand softly resting on her back, the delicate warmth in his eyes, the way his voice softened — it all paints a picture of a side of him you’ve rarely seen.

you want to be part of it, too. want to bask in his love, the one he keeps hidden but the same one that shapes him whole. that fills him from head to toe, never spilling, always quiet. makes him the brave man you only know through your best friend’s admiring eyes, never from his words.

he doesn’t like talking about himself, but you’d kill to know what truly goes through his mind, even for just a second. you’d gladly find a house in his brain, and you’d pay rent and everything.

when areum finally pulls away and turns to you, her expression sleepy but content, she asks, “you coming with me?”

you hesitate, glancing at the mess still surrounding you. you speak with a small, reassuring smile, only looking at your friend, “i’ll be there in a minute. i wanna help clean up first.”

she just shrugs, already too tired to argue, and heads inside. jeongguk’s eyes follow her briefly before flicking back to you.

his lips part as if he wants to say something. maybe to insist that you shouldn’t stay, or that you should go inside too. but the words never come. instead, he watches you silently for a second longer, before turning his attention back to the garden.

now, it’s just the two of you.

the quiet between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. the subtle hum of the night seems louder now without the chatter of party guests, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze fills the air as you move around the small round tables, readjusting the chairs.

you’re trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind keeps drifting back to mr. jeon. to the protective edge in his tone earlier, to the way he’s been looking at you tonight.

but then, in your distraction, you clumsily trip over your own feet, your breath catching as you stumble forward.

before you can fall, though, a strong hand grips your arm, steadying you instantly.

“oops. careful, little one,” it’s jeongguk’s deep voice murmuring close to your ear, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

your face flushes immediately, the heat spreading across your cheeks and down your neck.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him through your lashes, feeling ridiculously small under his intense gaze.

“it’s okay,” he instantly replies, his tone so gentle it almost makes your heart falter.

silence falls again, but this time, it’s thicker, and maybe even uncomfortable. you both remain still for a moment, his hand loosely gripping your arm, and you feel yourself burn where his fingers rest. his thumb brushes your skin lightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, but it’s enough to make you gulp audibly.

finally, he releases you, stepping back slightly, but his eyes never leave yours, "thanks for making my daughter happy today. i really appreciate that. i appreciate you."

the words catch you off guard, your breath hitching at the sincerity in his voice, deeper, almost too revealing.

your mind races, trying to find the right words to respond, but all you can manage is a stutter, “oh. i—”

his voice is firmer when he gently cuts you off, “go sleep now. i’ll finish here.”

you want to protest, but the way he’s looking at you — his dark eyes locking onto yours, holding you in place even with his hand now by his side — makes it impossible.

there’s something about the way he’s speaking, like he’s being careful with his words, almost spelling them out, making sure you’re paying attention to each one, “if you need anything, you know where to find me. yeah?”

you swallow hard, nodding slowly. his gaze is unwavering, and it feels like he’s saying something more than just the words themselves, something you can’t quite grasp yet. you stammer, “right. yes. i—i’ll… goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

it’s not exactly a good night for you. in a sense, maybe it is. you always welcome dreams like these when they decide to visit. but right now, it feels more than a little awkward.

worst timing ever. you’re lying next to areum, the daughter of the very man who’s making you wet with just a few flashes of imagery dancing behind your closed eyelids.

at first, it’s soft, almost serene. you see a beach, engulfed in warm, blurry tones that blend together like watercolors left to bleed in the sun. the sea is flat, unmoving, and glimmers like pearls under the flaming light.

a weight presses down on your exposed thigh. the sensation feels so vivid that it pulls you deeper into the dream, and as you glance down, you instantly recognize the large, familiar hand resting there.

jeongguk’s hand. his left one. on the fourth finger, a gold ring.

when you lift your head, his face greets you with a wide, unusual smile. his hair is wet, slicked back as if he’s just come out of the water, droplets clinging to the tips.

but the softness of the look he gives you is replaced by something more dangerous, more daring. he bites his lip, and you see it.

a double piercing sits on the side of his mouth, the silver studs gleaming as he plays with them using the tip of his tongue. your breath catches in your throat. you don’t just see it there.

on his eyebrow, a matching piercing catches the sunlight, giving him a rebellious edge.

you remember them from old pictures areum showed you once. jeongguk, in his younger days, rougher, wilder, and undeniably charming.

it must have left a deep impression on you because your subconscious has dug it up now, weaving it into this dream. deep in your slumber, you unconsciously whine.

his hand kneads the soft skin of your leg, and his grin stretches wider, eyes crinkling into familiar crescents, but with an edge you’ve never seen on him before.

"you wanna take another bath?" his voice is husky in your ear, filled with suggestion. he’s leaning in now, closer, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin.

your throat feels dry, your pulse quickens, and before you can say anything, his hand slides higher, fingers grazing the hem of your swimsuit. his breath fans over your face, and suddenly, the sea behind you isn’t the only thing that feels like it's burning.

"come on. just you and me."

before you can even think to answer, your surroundings shift. the beach, once hazy and peaceful, morphs into something more private.

you’re no longer in the open air, but sitting at the border of his pool, both your feet grazing the warm water.

jeongguk’s hand is still playing with the laces of your bikini, and he’s slow and teasing as he pulls one of them. when he fully undoes it, you’re bare in front of him.

but he doesn’t look down just yet. he keeps staring in your eyes, his smile gone now, replaced with something more serious, more focused.

jeongguk leans closer to your ear, his lips brushing your lobe, and it feels way too real when he whispers, “let me make you feel good.”

it’s with a jolt that you wake up, the low sound still echoing in the depths of your brain, and you struggle to take in your surroundings at first.

on your right, areum is sleeping soundly, even snoring softly. you'll tease her about it in the morning.

but if the thought initially puts a smile on your face, it morphs into a frown when you register the reason why you’re now awake, and you brim with guilt.

you have to get away from your best friend. need to get away from your brain, if possible. wash it all with a glass of cold water.

you make sure not to cause too much noise as you slowly sit up, the covers falling from your figure and the air welcoming you with goosebumps on your skin.

your naked feet tentatively touch the ground and you force yourself to stand on them, padding on the floor and exiting the room, gently closing the door behind your shoulders.

at first, you only hear it. faint, muffled noises; fussing; heavy panting; groans.

you blink rapidly, convinced your hazy brain is still cozily wrapped around the blankets, finding it hard to let go of the images that had flashed behind your eyelids and adapt to the new state of consciousness.

but as you make your way to the stairs, the sounds get closer, and more vivid. it’s not just your mind playing evil games, anymore.

it’s shushed moans, and eager whines. and they seem awfully close to how you’d always imagined mr. jeon would sound like. in that situation.

having lost control over your own brain a long time ago, it feels like you’re now being ordered around by it, no freedom of choice whatsoever.

your feet move on their own, following the source of that delicious music, and you swear your eyes get teary with joy when you find that the door was left ajar.

you feel delirious. the small gap is more than enough to give you a view into what you never thought you’d have the honor of witnessing: the man of all your desires has his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it, then dragging it up and down in slow movements that you just know are torturing him, from the way he harshly bites his lower lip, to the way his furrowed eyebrows almost meet at the bridge of his nose, eyes focused on his doings.

nonetheless, he loves it. his mouth opens every time he brushes the tip of his thick dick with his palm, releasing small whines, followed by quiet moans when he uses his other hand to play with his balls.

he cusses repeatedly, then grips his base and halts his movements. only to go over the punishing pattern again, bringing himself closer to the edge then retraining when he feels like stepping over it.

the sight of mr. jeon edging himself makes your knees weak. it takes over you physically, you genuinely have to find support in the wall beside you.

you need to be there with him. you need it to be your hand; need him to guide it just the way he likes it; need him to teach you how to please him. his groans make your head spin, and you need to get closer.

you’re not thinking when you instinctively take a step towards the slightly open door, but when you do, the floor cracks under you.

you’re paralysed. in the silence of the house, wrapped in night time, the otherwise small sound is amplified, and he stops his hand.

with the little power you still possess over your actions, you move your back to the wall beside the door. your breaths are ragged, too overwhelmed with the mixture of fear and lust, and you think of running away to hide but a huge weight is chaining you down, and you find yourself unable to move.

you can only register fussing from the other side, the soft thump of his feet on the floor and the door opening alarmingly. when he looks to the side, he’s met with his expression mirrored on your small face, your eyes wide but willing themselves to keep looking in his.

if you were to look down, you’re not sure you could keep yourself composed, knowing his cock is hard and unattended in his pajama pants.

“___? what are you doing up?” his voice quickly takes on the calm that characterizes him so well, instilling some of it in your startled figure.

still, you stutter all throughout your answer, making it clear what you just spied into with the way your face changes color, “i— water. i wanted— there’s no, huh, water in the fridge.”

mr. jeon does a weak job at hiding the confused amusement on his features. nonetheless, he nods, a small grin on his lips while he says nothing, just walks to the stairs and makes his way down them. you follow hastily, careful not to trip.

there’s plenty of water in the fridge, but he doesn’t question it. he takes out a bottle and pours a glass for you, sliding it over the counter.

you take the smallest sip, afraid you might choke with the way he stands facing you, staring so intensely into your orbs.

when you put the still full glass down, he smirks. you see his hands gripping the edge of the table in front of him, “nightmare?”

the depth of his voice translates into heat pooling right in your lower stomach and staining your shorts. you’re a mess just from the blurred sight of him. you shake your head, “more like… a weird dream.”

he smiles fondly, having to break the prolonged eye contact and look elsewhere, his grip getting tighter and his patience wearing thin.

he won’t be able to control himself much longer if he doesn’t get out of this kitchen, especially with the effects of your effortless charm flooding down his pleading dick.

you’re in front of him, eyes full with a feeling that scares him, only the counter dividing your bodies, and you’re wearing the tiniest satin shorts paired with a white tank top that leaves little to the imagination, the cut dangerously low and your nipples evident through the material.

he’s a gone man.

his eyes no longer anchoring you, your gaze automatically travels to where you shouldn’t be looking, for your own sanity. but the outline of his cock is so delicious, it makes your mouth water with want.

you’re not sure if it’s your own eyes deceiving you, but you swear you can see it throb, and at that moment you realize he’s not wearing any underwear. just thin, loose pants covering his length.

you gulp, clenching around nothing. you feel him sigh, and the sound makes your head spin with greater force.

he looks back at you, but you’re too enthralled by your current view, the effects of it almost completely shutting out your hearing and your rational thinking, as you round the counter and leave his words hung in the air, “i’m sorry for… what you probably saw. should’ve closed the door.”

apology silently dismissed, or simply ignored (why would he even apologize for blessing you with such an unforgettable sight?) you now stand next to him. as he turns to you, you’re faced with his chest, and you have to bend your head upwards to meet his curious eyes.

your body has long forgotten to trust the thin amount of rationality that could still be found in your brain, and that’s how you find yourself leading your hand to cup his cock through his pajamas.

his face is stoic, staring at you intensely. he doesn’t startle, doesn’t gasp, doesn’t move away. but you feel him. if the contact does something to him, he doesn’t show it. he keeps looking down at you, in your eyes.

then, he speaks, his voice steady, “what are you doing.”

you’re suddenly aware of your actions, and you fall victim to them, feeling small because of his stern, composed gaze while you melt under it.

your voice is frail, barely a whisper, too weak to sound as convinced as you truly are, and your words come out slurred, “wanna help you.”

he doesn’t break, doesn’t seem affected by your desperation, but his pupils are blown out, knuckles white from grasping the counter, “you already did enough.”

your hand is still on his dick, unmoving. no one dares break the moment, though. if anything, being this close to him, feeling him while you both search for something in each other’s eyes, is only spurring you further.

you get on your tip toes, your perky nipples brushing against his chest, your voice low while you tilt your head to the side, “what were you thinking of? i’ll be that for you.”

immediately, his hand flies over yours. he doesn’t move it, just holds it still. the look in his eyes is a lot darker, his eyelids droopy, his jaw clenched, “stop this.”

the electrifying spark that buzzes you the moment you feel his skin travels from your hand to your whole body, and it significantly weakens you.

you don’t know if you fall to your knees because they genuinely give up on you, but it’s how you find yourself facing his hardness, your eyes never leaving his glossy ones, highlighted by the dim light shining through the curtains of his kitchen.

“___. get up.” there’s a tremor in his voice, and the hand that was blocking yours now falls by his side, twitching.

you see it in his eyes. sense it in the tension of his muscles. he’s holding back. but you don’t want him to resist you.

“please,” your beg is muffled and quiet, your nose brushing against his length and following a torturous path that makes him hiss.

he groans deliriously, willing himself to tear his orbs off your big, pleading ones staring up at him, but he doesn’t do anything to move you away.

“fuck,” the chuckle that follows is feverish, his body on fire with the forbidden, but so wanted touch, “don’t make me have to reject you, doll.”

“you don’t have to,” you’re unexpectedly quick in your answers, your conscience coming back to you but letting it be taken over by a dark feeling, the one that makes you kiss his tip through the thin material, and lick along his length, finding his eyes, “i want you.”

jeongguk inhales, his lower lip bleeding with the harsh biting, and he swears his knees are shaking with the effort of keeping even the slightest, thinnest thread of sanity intact.

he wishes he could stop you. knows he should. but he can’t. he can only watch as your slim fingers hook under the hem of his light pants and lead them to pool down his ankles.

the way his cock springs free and brushes your smooth, pure face makes him huff out a deep exhale, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed as he takes in your eyes widening at the sight of his length.

mr. jeon is long. and thick. he’s veiny, and perfectly shaved. it looks almost unrealistic, but he’s in front of you in all his glory and he throbs. leaks pretty precum to coat his angry tip.

he doesn’t know how he manages to speak, especially when you look up at him through your droopy eyelids, pupils blown and tongue ready to take him.

his voice is rough, as if it wants to stay stuck in his throat, but he forces one last warning out, “___. don’t do it.”

any and all kinds of inhibitions are nonexistent the moment you attempt a kitten lip at his wet tip, and the simple action makes his head fall backwards, a way too loud growl escaping him.

his breaths are heavy, broad chest moving with them as he looks down at you again, too tempted to look elsewhere.

he curses as soon as he does, his lust-filled orbs swimming in your equally craving ones, and he believes this view is crafted by the hands of a god, not slightly comparable to anything his mind came up with back in his room, not too long ago.

the reason why he’s gotten rock hard under his covers, it’s you. the yearning he couldn’t suppress anymore, the hunger making him salivate, the need to be consumed by your love, the desire to be touched by you, to be cured by your innocence, only to taint it.

he’s thirsty, wants to drink all of you in. wants to finally have you, taste you, feel you. he’s tired of fighting it.

jeongguk doesn’t know how to decipher his heart doing literal flips in his chest when you fully take his cock in your mouth, and he lets out a sound he’s never heard his own self ever produce.

it’s high-pitched, whiny, delirious, and it leads himself to subtly push himself forward, to bury his length in your throat.

you inevitably choke at the new sensation, your eyes fluttering shut to keep the tears welling up under your eyelids from spilling out, but you go relentlessly, just as hungry.

you tentatively bob your head up and down his length, messily taking him as best as you could, probably accidentally scraping him with your teeth a few times, and you try to make up for it with your swirling tongue, slurping thirstily.

he almost coos at your eagerness, and as badly as he wants to bask in the sensation, having to keep himself from pounding into your mouth, he holds your silky hair in a ponytail and gently pushes you away.

when you find him again, your eyes are glossy and your eyebrows drawn up with worry.

you don’t want this moment to end. you don’t want your insecurities to be proven right, don’t want him to ward you off, to still think of you as nothing more than a childish girl with an evident crush. you’re on your knees for him to finally see you.

jeongguk instantly reads your thoughts.

his voice is quick to sooth you, a sweet smile painting his face with an expression you rarely see on him. it’s soft, just like his voice, “come up here, angel.”

you want to listen to him, want to follow his every order. but you’re not sure how to when he’s regarding you with a care you’d never thought would be directed at you, one that empties you of any strength. when the pet name rolling off his tongue that easily seems so natural, you want to think it’s all he’s ever seen you as.

with a delicate tug at your hair, he leads you on your feet again. but you’re weak, your chin falling on his chest as you look at him through your lashes like he’s hung every single star in the sky.

his hand leaves your locks only to cup your face, promptly helping you stand straight to study your features.

if he didn’t know better, he’d say you’re high off the strongest substance you could find. your pupils cover your orbs in a dark, wide circle, a lazy smile on your pink lips as you let yourself be handled by him, no control over your body, almost falling over his bigger one again before he steadies you by your hips.

he lets out an amused chuckle at the state you’re in because of him, and he hopes you know just how much you’re affecting him, too. he wants to swallow you, pill after pill, overdose on you.

when he’s sure you don’t need his help keeping you still anymore, leading your palms to rest on his wide shoulders, he takes your face in his big hands and forces you to swim in the intensity of his gaze.

his words are spoken slowly, a low whisper fanning over your lips, “if i kiss you now, i won’t be able to control myself anymore.”

your eyes jump relentlessly between his own orbs and his mouth, the latter winning the battle when you fixate on it, and speak just as weakly, “please, kiss me.”

you barely manage to get the words out before jeongguk is all over you. he devours you, pushing your lips open and finding your tongue, playing with it in a mess of slick and heavy breaths.

his fingers travel through every angle of your body they can find, pulling your face impossibly closer by your nape, leaving goosebumps along your bare arms wrapping around his neck, falling down your torso and squeezing harshly as they rest by your sides.

your moan is inevitable when his palms reach down the curve of your ass and shove you against him. you feel his hardness meet the softness of your lower belly, his wet tip poking at it and making him hiss on your lips.

he does his best to swallow all your sounds, your muffled whines and whimpers his favorite meal as of now. it’s a wince of slight pain that you let out as he positions you in between his body and the counter, the border pressing on your lower back.

when he moves from your kiss, even with your lungs being unable to breathe anymore and begging for a break, your head follows his movements to try and bring him back on you again.

the chuckle he lets out is almost belittling, the right side of your face being completely engulfed by his palm to put distance between your mouths, his other hand keeping you still by your waist, and his own hips push against you.

you quickly glance down to where your bodies meet, and you whimper when you take in the way his cock is just above your core, his balls brushing against your clit. you only need to lift yourself a little forward to fully feel him.

but it’s like he instantly knows what’s making your head spin, his grip tighter but still mindful not to hurt you. the sudden squeeze has your eyes finding his, feeling ridiculously smaller under the weight of his heavy gaze.

he makes sure you keep your whole focus on him, and as much as registering the way your orbs are glossy with anticipation and desire is making him almost regret his next words, he lets them out, steady but soft, in your face.

“you had your fun, baby. now, you’re going to listen to me. hm?”

this time, your reaction comes promptly following his request. you’re hanging from his lips, tracing their every move and sound, immediately nodding at the order.

but it’s not enough, and jeongguk ensures to sound a bit firmer, ”use your words.”

”yes, mr. jeon.”

the way your response rolls off your tongue with seemingly no hesitation, your pupils still on his, the words you choose to say, make him let out an amused chuckle.

your eyes widen, and he drinks in your state, cheeks flushed and lower lip trembling. you need to bite it in order for it to stop shaking when he narrows his eyes, his left palm rising from your hip and finding its way under your top, his remark making you startle, ”you’re such a bad girl. aren’t you?”

jeongguk makes up for the way more tears seem to well along your bottom lashes by cupping your small breast in his larger hand, swirling his thumb around your nipple, and you need to fight against the loud moan traveling its way up your throat, the chocked sound getting stuck as your mouth hangs open, your eyebrows furrowed.

but it only takes some more of his degrading tone for you to let out an unashamedly loud noise, his fingertips pinching your nipple, ”calling me that only because it gets you off. doesn’t it? you’re not so innocent after all, princess.”

he quickly swallows your sounds with his lips on yours, and both of you can’t help but hum lowly at the contact. jeongguk thinks he could keep kissing you for hours on end. but he badly wants to feel every other inch of your body, too.

unexpectedly, the kiss gets broken when he turns your body around with ease, your back now pressing against his front, and you steady your shaking figure by planting your hands on the counter.

the access to your ear comes effortlessly, he just needs to bend his head down to cover your height difference and make sure his whispered words meet you as close as possible, “i’ll give you what you want. but you need to be quiet and good for me, understood?”

you’re not sure if you should use your voice or stay silent, but your body doesn’t give you the chance to ponder over it before letting out a whiny yes. you’re not exactly being quiet, but can he blame you?

the man you’d get to talk to for more than five minutes only in your dreams is now promising you he’s going to give you what you want. and his cock is perfectly nestled in between your ass cheeks. you’re positive you’ll have to throw your shorts right in the bin after he’s done with you.

though, the scoff resounding in your ear makes you regret not even trying to lower your volume. you really want to be good for him. don’t want to disappoint him.

that’s why when he taps two fingers under your chin, without him having to express it for you, you part your lips open, tongue out. from the corner of your eye, you see the side of his face scrunched with a long dimple before he shoves the digits inside your wet mouth.

you instantly wrap yourself around his thick fingers, coating them in your warm slick, and you can tell it’s affecting him with the way the hold on your hip tightens, and he shifts between your thighs.

with your tongue swirling around the two digits, your eyes search for his face. looking up at him through your lashes, you clench around nothing when you take in the effortless way he towers over you, his body engulfing your whole smaller figure.

the sinful eye contact leads him to spur you on further, his voice rough with desire, “that’s right. suck on them like you would my cock.”

you hum deeply at the encouragement, fluttering your eyelids shut as you energetically bob up and down along his fingers. you think you can still feel the taste of his precum lingering on your tongue, and you whine, wishing you could have him again.

the noise gets cut from your throat when he forces his digits out, the slicky sound lustful, and it makes him groan lowly.

with his other hand, he delicately pushes your head forward to bend you over the marble counter, the same one where hours ago he passed you his glass of wine to take a sip from.

the surface is cold against your cheek and he’s out of your vision as he stands straight. not being able to see what he’s doing, the expression on his face as you lay folded for him, makes the anticipation flood even stronger in your veins.

you feel him pull your shorts down enough to reveal yourself to him, hear him hiss as he’s enthralled by the way your pussy glistens, all for his eyes to admire.

the curse that follows is instant, “fuck. no panties?”

you’re embarrassed for your straightforward bareness, whimpering at his surprise with your fist tightening and your nails imprinting crescents in your palms, but you’re also so impatient to feel his touch.

tentatively, you wiggle for him, hoping to brush against his length, but it’s to no effort as he instantly stills your movements with a hand on your lower back.

he scoffs incredulously, feeling your bare ass against his palm, “it’s like you knew this would happen. you dirty, naughty girl. always giving me those eyes.”

it’s light, the spank that meets the side of your butt, but you gasp nonetheless. you need to bite your lower lip harshly in order to suppress the loud moan from escaping your throat, and you’re sure it bleeds when he softly strokes the spot he hit.

the hand soothing you now travels to your front, torturously putting pressure on your sensitive stomach and following a slow pattern, only to reach your wet core.

he finally touches you where you’ve been needing him the most, and you both groan when he uses his already soaked pointer and ring finger to spread your lips, his middle one tracing your slit.

you inhale deeply as he repeats the motion, and when you exhale you can’t help small whines from leaving you, the pleasure already too overwhelming.

you feel like passing out when his body weight presses on you again, his mouth directly on your lobe, the intention in his voice dripping on your skin, “you think i wouldn’t notice? you know how hard my cock gets everytime i see you in these tiny clothes of yours, huh? you’re quite literally the death of me, doll.”

then, it’s like all your senses come back to you the moment he pushes his digit in, and he immediately reaches around you to put his other hand over your mouth the second he sees it opening, your eyes rolling up.

you scream in his palm, the sound muffled with his fingers tightening under your jaw, his body still leaning on yours.

he whispers sweet nothings in your ear and stills his middle finger inside you, getting you used to his presence, “shh, princess. good baby, you’re doing perfect.”

the contrast to his earlier shaming tone only makes you whine more, your eyes squeezing closed to try and keep the noises in. you’re sure you bite his palm when he starts moving inside you, the finger curling tentatively and soon being joined by another one.

you shake your head weakly, feeling yourself reach delirium, and you manage to stammer out, “can’t— can’t do this.”

“you can baby, c’mon. you wanna be a good girl f’me, don’t you?” his tone is still low, warm breath fanning over your nape, and you melt under the sudden change in attitude.

you nod, not because you believe you can actually get through this without your heart failing and the whole neighborhood hearing you in the process, but because you do want to be his good girl.

“say it.”

“wanna be good— your good girl.”

he hums, “that’s right. i need to stretch you out if you want to take my cock.”

you choke in his wrap, now looser around your face, surprised at his words, and you clench hard at the mention of his cock inside you.

you throw your head backwards in search for more of his proximity, and you mumble nonsense, your brain completely melted, “yes! want your dick.”

“i know you do, little one,” with your head nestled between the crook of his neck, his hand now falls to your throat, and he holds you gently by it while his fingers pick up a faster pace.

he’s ruthless as he moves them inside you, effortlessly finding your sweet spot with a curl of his long, tattooed digits, and you whimper at the foreign sensation, unable to moan like you really want to.

you feel like screaming the more he keeps going, the only possible reaction to what is happening to you. one moment ago you were dreaming of this, and now it’s your reality.

mr. jeon is fingering you and calling you his good girl. his large figure is behind your smaller one bent over the counter, his palm around your throat, his hard length pressing against your ass.

the moment he uses his thumb to flick at your clit, you arch your back into him and you hear him fight to suppress a surprised moan.

“shit. you’re so impatient, sugar. dripping around my fingers. wanna taste your sweet juice, can i?” it’s a rhetorical question, hushed slurredly in your ear, because after he lets it out his fingers leave your hole, and find a new home on his warm tongue.

he purposefully moves your chin to make you a witness of his sinful action, humming deeply around the taste of you, his eyes fluttering shut, his digits popping out drenched.

your mouth hangs, your tongue unconsciously peeking out as if asking to be made a participant, but jeongguk only smirks and stands straight once again, his wet hand leaving another light spank on your ass cheek, “turn around, sweets.”

you do as asked, making sure your palms are still steadying your weight on the counter now behind you, afraid your legs alone won’t be able to.

but you soon find out you won’t have to put much effort into that when jeongguk lifts you with ease and sits you on the surface, your slickness meeting the cold marble.

you don’t have to lift your head to look at him anymore, your heights now the same. but finding yourself directly in front of his hardened gaze makes you feel even more intimidated.

especially when he traces your inner thigh, his eyes never leaving yours, “every time you stand up to leave after dinner, you always leave a puddle on my chairs. and i’m left to clean it up.”

you swallow audibly at the accusation, and you can feel your eyes water once again, biting your lips to conceal the shame.

he only grins amusedly at your state, the tip of his tongue coming out to play with his lower lip. the hand on your leg now forces it to move to the side, his face only getting closer to yours, his tone deeper, “i’ve thought about licking it up, you know? but then i always stopped myself, because i knew i’d get to taste your pretty, wet pussy.”

you gasp, a shaky moan leaving you uncontrollably, and your fingers hover over his figure, wanting to find support in him but unsure whether to touch him.

he finds your mouth with a short kiss, almost reassuring, but he’s back to spitting sins the moment he lowers his face between your spread legs, and the way he looks up at you is almost scandalous.

he looks devilish, his orbs visible through his lashes, his tongue wetting his lips. he takes your uncertain hand and places it between his tousled hair, directing himself to you, instructing you how to use him.

he presses a peck above your clit, still drinking in your reactions, his smile wicked, “i knew you’d crumble soon. you little minx. going after your best friend’s dad. so naughty.”

your head is thrown backwards at his words, ones that only add to the pleasure that takes over you when he latches at your pussy, the wet sounds ungodly.

the shame and guilt mixing in the back of your mind generate a profane sense of bliss you’d never think you could reach, and even though deep down you feel dirty being confronted with the truth he sputtered out so easily, you can’t help getting off to it right now.

jeongguk is ravenous as he finds your drenched lips, lapping furiously at them and drinking the juice that continuously drips out.

he flicks the tip of his tongue up and down your swollen clit, and your hand that he himself put on top of his head now tugs at his curls, forcing him closer to you.

he’s trapped, your legs squeezing around his head, his nose nuzzled in your slit, and he can’t stop the hand that reaches to stroke his pleading dick.

you think you hear him mumble something along the lines of taste so good as he teases your hole with his wet muscle, and you’re a gone woman the moment you look down, your eyes fluttering open.

his own are closed, brows furrowed in deep concentration, his nose relentlessly grinding against your sensitive nub, and the way he seems so affected by the act of pleasuring you breaks something inside you.

you feel it begin to crumble when his tattooed hand reaches up to lift up your top just enough to expose your breasts, nipples hardening with the cold air and the stimulation, and they hurt deliciously when he starts kneading at your boobs, fondling them with care.

the deep hum generated from his throat vibrates against you, and the flick of his thumb around the center of your tit matched with the way your clit is being continuously abused unexpectedly leads you to your orgasm.

it’s fast, unannounced, and you find support in his hair, your body taking over your brain and relentlessly grinding against jeongguk’s face, suffocated between you, unable to stop reaching for the heavenly, and so awaited high.

your whines are frantically high pitched, but the moment he feels you cum all over his mouth everything around him disappears except you, and all he cares about is slurping you, drinking you as you let it all out because of him.

he pants, breathless, opening his eyes to witness your climax, to admire you breaking under his doings, chest swelling with pride and a primal sense of protectiveness.

when he hears you whimper the more he keeps sucking on your clit, your slim fingers pulling at his locks, he finally lifts himself up.

on the path he follows to come back up to meet your face, he finds your nipple with a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing your nub, and he smiles against it, teeth gently pinching it, when seeking with his eyes for your reaction he sees your own rolling back.

next, his mouth is on yours, smearing your wetness all over your lips and mixing it with his spit on your tongue, connecting in a frantic, hungry dance.

his forehead is on yours when he breaks the kiss, his breaths heavy, the lazy grin on his face the only thing you can focus on, hanging on his gentle words, “did so good, pretty. came so hard all over me.”

your eyes inevitably fall down to his cock, painfully hard against his stomach, the tip angry and slicked with precum.

you feel your core buzz, kissing him to conceal the unshameful desire building up so fast again, but still you can’t help from mumbling against him, “wan’ you to fuck me.”

the hum of pleasure coming from his throat reverberates on your lips, and he smiles at your confession. even chuckles, one hand resting at your hip and sliding you closer.

“that what you want, baby?” your legs wrapping around him, he kisses along your neck and travels down to your collarbones, leaving small bites to keep himself from marking you like he truly wants to.

he slips his palms under your thighs and lifts you off the counter effortlessly, and you squeeze your hold tighter around him in order to keep yourself balanced.

the new position has his cock perfectly meeting your core, your slit brushing against his tip as he walks you two over the living room couch, his mouth promptly swallowing your whimpers.

when he lays you on the sofa, he straightens himself to fully admire you. you’re sprawled for him, your hair framing your head like a halo, the sweat pearling your forehead adding to your angelic state.

your hands are on either side of your face, fingers dainty and slender, and your tank top is lifted up enough to show him your small breasts, slightly spilling from the sides.

your shorts still rest under your ass, and with a swift motion he fully takes them off you, giving him access to your center.

but the attention is taken away from your wet cunt when he lets his eyes come back up to your face, your cheek resting on your shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassment at his ravenous observing.

he smiles, becoming impatient with the feeling that only grows inside him, and he walks out of his pants still pooled down his ankles, taking off his loose t-shirt and letting it fall on the ground.

your eyes widen at his sculpted physique, now finally in front of you, his buff dimensions intimidating you, especially when your orbs follow his v line and put you face to face with his huge cock, so close to your watering hole.

he teases it with his length, sliding it up and down your slit, then slapping it against your clit. you arch your back, groaning.

“am i the real man you’ve been waiting for? you wanna be fucked by this big man, don’t you?” his sinful words only make you nod dumbly, becoming potty under his control.

at your eagerness, he wastes no time. aligning himself with your hole, he enters you. the stretch is deliciously painful, his tip boldly splitting you open for him.

he knows your wail is coming, so he lowers himself on you to block your sounds with his mouth. but he’s the one that needs to be silenced.

the moment he feels your tightness around his bare dick, he growls. his sounds grow more desperate as he sinks himself deeper, the grip on your waist enough to wreck you, and you’re expecting it to leave a mark.

you hum roughly against his lips, your nails scratching along his shoulder blades in search for any kind of grounding you can find.

it’s too much, his dimensions way oversized for what your hole can take, and the fact that you can’t help but grip him even tighter isn’t helping.

he reads you, your broken whines and the tear falling from your left eye, and the moment he bottoms out he stills himself, his face in the crook of your neck, his nose nuzzling the warm skin in a reassuring manner, “shh, baby. i got you. let me make you feel good.”

the whispered words are the same ones that jolted you from your sleep, the dream almost too real, and paired with his middle and ring finger circling your sensitive nub they cause you to emit a pleasured squeal, your chest arching into his.

at this point, you’re afraid you’re still trapped deep in your slumber. that none of this is actually real, it can’t be.

you’re so convinced that it’s just too good to be true that you test it, scraping your nails harshly in his back, and when he bites the skin under your jaw in protest you gasp shakily.

it’s definitely real. jeongguk is fucking you. almost. not yet.

with the way your clit is being stimulated by his long fingers, the initial sharpness turns into more slick, and you impatiently groan, “fuck me, please.”

one final kiss is left on your lips before he lifts his torso up, his hands roaming along your sides and grasping a hold of your tits.

he teases you with a playful smirk on his face, your disappointed pout only resulting in a devilish chuckle from him as he massages your soft boobs.

but you can feel him throb inside you the more you swallow him in, and you know he’s just as impatient. you buck your hips up in search of friction, and the sudden motion makes the both of you moan.

he’s suddenly resolute as his palms fall to your waist and effortlessly hold you up as he begins fucking into you. with each stroke he picks up his pace, and he’s soon pounding your tight hole wrapping around him.

the two of you soon find out it’s impossible to be quiet. your sounds are stuttered and pornographic, and it makes jeongguk afraid he’s never going to be able to get them off his brain.

his own noises are heavenly, deep growls and surprised whines falling out his pillowed lips, slightly agape in bliss, brows drawn up.

your eyes roll back and never come back, your vision patched, and you think you weren’t build to survive this kind of pleasure. it’s almost deathly when he finds that one particular spot that makes you see stars.

your skin slapping is louder than his hushed speech, but he makes sure the words reach you and translate into wetness coating his length even more, drenching it, making it soaked in your juices, “that’s how you need to be fucked. that’s how my girl needs to be fucked, hm?”

“mhm, fuck, yes!” it’s breathless, but you want him to hear you. you feel yourself get closer just watching him smirk proudly at your state, his pupils blown out.

his palms are back to playing with your breast, kneading it harshly, and you enjoy the way he seems to be hypnotized by the vision, “fuck. love your tits. fit just right in my hand. you were made for me, princess.”

your head is thrown back between the cushions, your legs wrapping around his ass and pushing him even deeper, the anticipated sensation building simultaneously in both of your trembling bodies.

“i’m not gonna last long, baby. this pussy’s too tight. trappin’ me inside it,” jeongguk’s voice is rough, the words leaving him slurredly and all his effort put into snapping his hips against yours, his eyes focused on the relentless in and out motion.

you wail, mumbling nonsense, but at the same time the most sincere words you’ve ever sputtered to him, “it’s yours, jeongguk. f—fucking yours. forever. ah— fuck.”

he hums, feeling you contract around him the more he speaks to you, “that’s it. my pussy to fuck, angel. mine to play with, mine to fill up.”

your eyes widen at his territorial remarks, and when they meet his hazy ones they water with overwhelming ecstasy.

the possibility of his cum filling you up is what does it for you, your nerves undoing once again and making you spasm around his throbbing dick.

he talks you through your abrupt orgasm, praising you for cumming so good all over him, drinking in your blissful sounds and your hips rutting against his.

he’s just as close, and the realization that you came the moment he mentioned painting you in his seed makes him a crazed man, his motions stuttering sloppily, “fuck. aren’t you a naughty one, doll. you really want me to cum inside you? you want it, huh? i bet you do.”

your repeated nodding and the way your body is so pliant in his hold, letting it be completely handled by him with no functioning muscle, pervades his senses with a primal force that he puts all into fucking your sensitive cunt.

he smirks wickedly, “you’d look so pretty. all stuffed. want me to fill up this tight pussy? want my mature cock in so deep you can’t breathe?”

you think you scream at his continuous suggestions, but you can’t be sure when all your senses are clouded, the oversensitivity turning you into a literal doll for him, no power over your actions.

he looks just as fucked out, his lips parting as he basks in the feeling of being in control of you, his eyes fighting to stay open and keep you in his vision.

when he feels you contracting around him in overstimulation, his breath stutters and he feels himself reach the peak, quickly pulling out of you to spill his cum over your naked skin.

you gasp at the sudden emptiness and the warm liquid that keeps falling over your stomach, his cock being pumped in his fist and milked from all he can give you.

you both pant in exhaustion, your legs loosening their grip around him as he dips his weak knees on either side of you on the couch.

he hums when he fully takes in your figure, marked by his cum, and he smiles when he sees your eyelids struggling not to fall.

but you spasm once again when you feel his finger slide over your stomach, the wet liquid being collected, “now, you gonna clean this up for me. open your pretty mouth, baby.”

you don’t even ponder on the request, you just follow the order. your brain is reduced to thoughts that are only related to him, and it automatically complies to anything that he asks from you.

you engulf his digits promptly, swallowing his semen, looking up at him through your lashes and unashamedly clenching at his lazy smirk.

he makes sure every drop of his is collected and sucked by your hungry mouth, smiling when you don’t ever complain, “mh, good girl. get them neat.”

when he’s satisfied, he hovers over your face and finds your tongue in a sensual, slow kiss, both of you moaning at the exchange.

with a sloppy sound, he parts from you only to disappear between your thighs, his eyes mischievous, “gonna clean you up, too.”

you gasp at the feeling of his mouth wrapping around your core once again, slurping your juice and lapping at your inner thighs, and you’re not sure how this is going to help in getting you clean. you only feel yourself becoming even wetter, if possible.

leaving a kiss above your nub, he straightens up with a boyish smile softening his features, and with the fond way he’s looking at you, nobody could tell he just made you cum twice.

he moves your bangs from your forehead, closing the distance between you once again to leave small pecks over your still reddened face, “you did amazing, doll. made me cum so hard.”

you hum contentedly, snuggling closer to him, your body unconsciously gravitating toward his warmth. your hand lifts to thread through his hair, but before you can touch him, he shifts, pulling away.

the warmth he provided vanishes, replaced by the cold emptiness of the couch. panic surges in your chest, washing away any remnants of fatigue. you prop yourself up on your forearms, eyes tracking his movements.

you don’t want him to leave you here alone, bare and vulnerable, maybe a bit confused and uncertain, and deep down deathly scared of whatever will come after this.

your brows furrow, heart picking up a painful speed when you see he’s getting dressed—tossing on his shirt, pulling on his pants. and for a second, your heart clenches with dread. is he leaving?

but then you notice him picking up your shorts from the floor, his expression softening as he walks back to you with that same gentle smile that had made your heart flutter earlier.

relief washes over you.

he handles you delicately, as though you’re something fragile. his fingers brush your skin as he slips your shorts back on, pulling down your top before encircling your waist with his strong arms.

you squeal lightly when he pulls you onto his lap, settling back on the couch with you cradled against his chest. his hands never leave you, securing you to him.

you settle into him easily, sighing in appreciation as the warmth of his body returns, your legs draped across his lap, arms circling his neck.

for a brief, fleeting moment, everything feels like it’s in its right place, like this is where you’ve always belonged. it feels so natural, so easy, being wrapped up in him.

his deep, slow breaths lull you into a state of calm. his chin rests on the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing strokes along your spine.

you press even closer, breathing him in, feeling like you could get used to this, like you already have. like you’ve always known this is where you should be.

your fingers trace absentminded patterns along his tattooed arm, the one holding you secure under your legs. you feel the need to look at him, to admire the man that marked you as his.

but when you glance up, you’re a bit startled when you notice the shift in his expression. his face is hardened, jaw clenched tight. he’s not relaxed like he was just moments ago. his gaze is distant, staring intently at a spot across the room as if lost in thought.

yet his hands continue to cradle you, almost unconsciously, like holding you has become second nature to him.

but his mind is a whirlwind of emotions, and they only scatter all over the place as he feels you move closer, impossibly so.

you seek warmth, care. nuzzle your fragile body against his for protection, something more that he fears he can’t give you. love.

he once thought he’d drained himself of it, had nothing left to offer. but now, with you in his arms, the smallest spark flickers to life, burning its way up his throat until it feels like it’s going to consume him.

he wants to give in. he wants to hold you tighter, trap you against him, keep you with him. give you love.

but he can’t do that to you. can’t make you go through the same path that took everything from him. not without ruining you in the process.

he knows what comes next. love turns into suffering. it’s inevitable.

and could he survive seeing the look on areum’s face if she ever finds out? how would she react if she knew the truth about what he’s done, about how he feels? about how he truly wants to act upon his feelings?

the thought makes him feel sick, even as his heart beats steadily against yours, comforted by your presence.

but why doesn’t he feel disgusted? why isn’t there shame gnawing at him, making him pull away? there’s only bliss. the sheer joy of having you this close, of holding you like this, makes him forget everything else.

he wishes he could be immature, for once. wishes he was your age, and that nothing truly mattered. that he still could allow himself to make stupid decisions.

maybe then, you’d feel right in his arms, and reality wouldn’t catch up to him.

“jeongguk? are you okay?”

your soft, honeyed voice pulls him from his spiral, and he startles slightly, caught off guard. his eyes meet yours, wide and filled with concern, searching his face for answers.

he tries to hide the storm brewing inside him, forcing a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “huh? yeah. i’m okay.”

of course, you don’t believe him. an ugly feeling makes space in your stomach, and the weight of everything begins to press down.

you don’t want it to take over you just yet, want to be coddled by the illusion a little more, want to try and believe there’s nothing to be afraid of.

you offer a tentative smile, hoping to ease whatever tension is growing between you. “you… you seem worried.”

“i’m not, baby. i’m just thinking.”

“about?”

“stuff.” his voice is clipped, and the small wall he’s building between you becomes clearer.

the distance stings, and your heart sinks as you try to hold onto the moment that felt so perfect just a second ago. desperate to reach him, you place your hands on his face, tilting his chin down to meet your gaze.

your eyes jump all over his, but you manage a genuine, if small, smile. “you can tell me, you know. you can talk to me.”

one simple, small smile spreading across his lips makes you doubt all of your worries. it makes you want to believe that maybe, there’s truly no reason to be scared. that maybe, this can go well.

“i know,” it’s whispered on your face, his hand coming to play with the hair that frames your cheeks sweetly. “let’s get you to bed now, hm?”

before you can protest, he’s lifting you off the couch with ease, cradling you in his arms bridal style as if you weigh nothing at all. you clutch onto him.

you feel your insides fuzzy with the gesture, and you wiggle yourself closer in his embrace, looking up at him expectantly, “your bed?”

it breaks his heart having to disappoint you, tone firm as he tries to make up for it with his thumb brushing your thigh, “no, baby. you gotta go back to areum’s room.”

“but— but… i wanna sleep next to you,” you plead, your voice small and almost childlike as you pout up at him, hoping to sway him.

he looks away, focusing on the stairs as if looking at you would break his resolve. “we can’t, dove. you know we can’t.”

his words feel like a punch to the gut, and your voice hesitates. “we can’t?”

the silence that follows is louder than any answer he could have given, and it weighs heavy between you, suffocating. there’s no actual explanation to it, and the realization leaves both of you uneasy.

at areum’s door, he sets you down gently, making sure you’re steady on your feet. he’s careful with you, like he always is, his voice low, “go wash up. i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“no…”

“c’mon, sweetheart. don’t make this harder.”

you frown in protest, keeping eye contact, but he doesn’t break. his gaze is steady, resolute.

you want to argue, want to push, but the exhaustion settles over you, and you slump, defeated, but you still sway sweetly for him, your hands tied behind your back, “okay… can you kiss me?”

your voice is small, muffled behind your pout as you seek for him with anticipation, a shy smile making its way on your lips.

when he doesn’t move closer, you get on your tippy toes and lean in his direction once again, your eyes almost fluttering shut before you hear him clear his throat, and take an awkward step back.

you’re back on your heels with a thump, the same one reverberating in your chest with your heart falling, your mouth hanging open with confusion written all over your expression.

you go to say something but he’s quicker, his voice solemn, “goodnight, ___.”

jeongguk smiles, but it’s nothing like the ones that took over his whole face just minutes ago on the couch, his eyes full of you. you’re not even sure if you can define it as a smile.

it’s polite, almost too polite, and it only results in feeling tremendously distant from him. he’s completely disconnected from you.

he retreats, long legs carrying him away, his back to you as he slips into his room. the door clicks shut behind him, the sound final, and it echoes in the hollow space.

you stand still, the weight of his absence pressing heavily on your chest. the spot where he left you feels like a grave, your feet sinking into the cold floor as if it’s pulling you under. the warmth he offered, the fleeting sense of safety, is gone, and you’re freezing.

you try to breathe, but the air feels sharp, your throat tight with the effort to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. it’s useless, though.

your bare feet shuffle against the floor, but you can’t move forward. you can’t go back. you can’t do anything except stand there and feel the weight of it all crash down on you.

you’d been so afraid this would happen. how could you have been so foolish? even in the midst of the sweetness, you knew it was too good to be true. a part of you always knew.

and yet, you let yourself believe for a fleeting moment that something real could come from it. that you could be enough.

you’d have done anything to prove it to him. to show him your loyalty, your willingness to make it work. you still would. you’d give him every part of yourself, if he’d only take it. if he’d only look at you the way you want him to.

the full weight of your reality sinks in. in the end, none of it was truly real.

a sob breaks free from your chest, raw and painful. the sound echoes in the quiet hallway, bouncing off the walls that now feel oppressive, like they’re closing in on you. this house, every corner, it’s all stained now, tainted by the lie you let yourself fall into.

and you? you feel tainted, too.

[caramelkoo]

before we shatter — jjk [one]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 6k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.

read part two here

a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.

When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.

An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.

After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside. 

Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still. 

You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said. 

Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles. 

Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms. 

It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across. 

He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist. 

He heals you.

Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily. 

This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.

“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.

You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.

Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.

Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.

You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?” 

Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.” 

Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything”

“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.” 

Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.” 

“Thanks a lot.” 

With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you. 

“Hey” 

“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you? 

“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”

You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together. 

He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down” 

Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him. 

“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?” 

“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.

“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible” 

You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”

Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.” 

It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath. 

Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated” 

“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?” 

This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise” 

“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.

The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go. 

Let go of your happiness.

Let go of your salvation.

Let go of your comfort.

Let go of Jungkook.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest. 

“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.

You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me” 

He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.

“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that. 

You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.” 

He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.” 

You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.” 

Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?” 

Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.

It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread. 

You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies. 

“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?” 

“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?” 

You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave” 

His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning” 

Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more. 

You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible” 

He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands. 

You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you. 

“How long has it been since you began making this?” 

“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”

You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.

He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?” 

A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there. 

“You smell so good” 

“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him,  “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.” 

“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.

“You’re gonna spoil her” 

“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.” 

There it is. 

If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.

You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.

This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose. 

“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry. 

You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?” 

Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.

He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,

“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back” 

“Where are you goi-”

“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support. 

“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog. 

He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.

He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?” 

Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles. 

His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”  

He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft. 

“Mom sent this for you.” 

You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item. 

“It’s beautiful”

He gently wipes the tears away,

“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.” 

You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming” 

“What is?” he asks,

“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough” 

Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,

His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,

“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,

Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,

Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this. 

You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?

To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.

“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.” 

His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.” 

Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.

Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.

“Wait, I-I want to talk about something” 

His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips. 

Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips. 

He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off. 

His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.

“Jungkook, please” 

He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?” 

“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.” 

“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?” 

At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate. 

He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?” 

Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts. 

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss. 

He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it” 

You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”  

Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath. 

He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs. 

When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already. 

Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you. 

Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine” 

You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.” 

His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it. 

“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes. 

Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.” 

He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop. 

“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth. 

You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.

Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.

Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?” 

“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.

It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does. 

Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory. 

“Lose the pants” he commands. 

You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him. 

You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities. 

“God you’re dripping, honey” 

“For you” you admit.

Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly. 

His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?” 

A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.

He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt” 

You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm. 

“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.

Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss. 

He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen” 

Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy. 

You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.

A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him. 

He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less. 

“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.” 

Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears. 

“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out. 

Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.

Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you. 

“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?” 

You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens. 

His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it. 

He smirks, “Like what you see, honey” 

“You’re beautiful” 

His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.

You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.” 

“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again. 

His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.

You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers. 

You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come. 

Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.

You murmur. “I love you” 

His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle” 

He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.” 

Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something. 

But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.

An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away. 

You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right. 

He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time? 

You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?” 

When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere” 

Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet. 

You grin, “I wouldn’t let you” 

He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them. 

“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises. 

Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight. 

Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.

Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?” 

For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.

Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you? 

The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"

@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3

[nightingale-prompts]

Talents -DC X DP prompt

The public is aware that each of the Wayne children are creatively gifted. It was almost expected. Richard Grayson was the acrobatic of course and no one was surprised but highly praised. So many parents began putting their children in gymnastics after seeing Dick's performances.

Jason Todd took up writing and published his own books at the age of 13. Poetry, anthologies, and historical fiction were the genres he favored. His books still remain on the best-seller's list, especially after his death. His poetry book "Blackouts" is an emotional journey of everyday tragedies and miracles of life. People would often quote lines from his poems after tragic events.

Tim Drake was more elusive. No one knew what he did until his name came up under a national photography award. His album called "The Shades of Gotham" was a contract between parties of the wealthy and the impoverished citizens of Gotham.

Cassandra Cain kept to herself constantly. No one knew what she did for years. People assumed that Bruce Wayne stopped forcing his kids to perform and others argued that she just didn't have any talents to showcase. All wrong of course. Cassandra posted one of her recent projects online which proved she was very talented. It was a beautiful scarf she was making for the winter. Cassandra was gifted with a talent for textiles. She knitted, weaved, and sowed many of the clothes she was seen wearing. It was no secret that some of the clothes the Waynes wore could not be found anywhere else but people assumed they had a tailor to make custom designs but no one knew it was Cassandra.

Damian Wayne did not lag behind his siblings as she quickly showed off his artistic talents. He's still young so he hasn't gone as far as opening his first gallery but one of his paintings has already been put in a museum. Some call it nepotism but art is subjective. The other Waynes disagree since they have hung every art piece Damian makes in their offices and home right next to Tim's photos.

Duke Thomas isn't one to show off too much. But he does go all out in his hobbies. He secretly takes after Jason in writing poetry and has been inspired by "Blackout" since he first learned to read. Duck related to it deeply. But along the way, he learned a different way to express himself. Kids on the streets of Gotham learned a bit of breakdancing and Duke was no exception. Duke is an accomplished dancer and has gotten a few competitions under his belt now.

Now that there is a new member of the Wayne family the public is waiting to find out what Danny Nightingale's talent is. Everyone knew that Waynes were creative but honestly, no one expected this. A play was announced at Monarch Theater and none other then Danny's names was on the ticket as the star.

[cloudzoro]

Getting Caught | One Piece ♡

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Getting caught having sex with your man by one of his friends.

reaction/headcanon requests for jjk, one piece, haikyuu, fmab & death note (male & female characters) are OPEN!

masterlist | request rules

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genre: smut (minors dni)

characters included: ace, crocodile, zoro

cw: dirty talk, pet names, threesome, size kink, public sex, voyeurism, big dick!zoro, possessive behaviour, Zoros one kinda made me 💦🤭🥵💫 while I was writing it

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Ace

Ace has been visiting your home a lot recently. Since the two of you started dating, he promised not to be gone too long. When you do finally get him back, you're all over him.

He's sitting on your couch while you're on his lap. You grind down against his cock, which he had pulled out of his shorts. The brim of his hat presses against the back of the sofa and prevents him from getting comfortable, so he takes it off of himself and places it on your head. The sight of you stripped naked in just his hat has him bucking his hips up into you.

“sit on my cock, pretty girl,” he says. “Let me fuck you, baby.”

You reach down and guide his cock into your hole. He helps you sink all the way down onto him, and when he finally bottoms out, you moan in his ear. He holds you still as you clench around him. He knows if you start moving now, he'll cum almost immediately.

“Please fuck me, Ace”, you whine before kissing him. He hums into your mouth and slowly ruts upwards. As soon as he moves, the door swings open. Ace is quick enough to grab a nearby blanket and wrap it around you while pulling you to his chest, blocking any possibility of whoever just walked in seeing you naked.

You look to the doorway to see Marco standing there. He seems embarrassed and as if he's trying not to laugh.

“I was just coming by to see how your reunion is going”, he says, a smug grin plastered on his face.

“It's doing fine; now beat it!” yells Ace, throwing a pillow in his direction. Marco runs, but not before yelling through the now-closed door.

“Nice hat, y/n!”

Crocodile

He has you on your back, legs pushed up to your chest as he fucks you. He's so deep inside you and so big that he attacks all your senses. You couldn't focus on anything else if you tried. You can feel his palm pressing against the tiny bulge in your stomach.

“Can you feel that baby? Feel me deep in your pussy?” his voice has you clenching around him. The room smells of smoke and sex, and it makes you so dizzy that you can barely respond to him. You let out a long whine and nod. Crocodile laughs from above you. “Can I flip you over?” he asks. You whine a yes, and he flips you onto your hands and knees.

A large, heavy hand pushes you down against the sheets. He pushes back into you and the new angle makes you scream into the fabric beneath you. Every thrust sends you forward into the mattress, and Crocodile does absolutely nothing to hide your moaning.

A few minutes later, you hear a loud banging at the door, and before either of you can move, Mihawk swings the door open as if he's completely unaware of what you are doing.

Your husband pulls you upwards so your back is against his chest and wraps his big arms around you, covering your most intimate parts. There's a beat of silence before Mihawk launches into a flustered tirade.

“You two are completely inconsiderate. Do you ever fucking shut up?” While he continues ranting, Crocodile leans down to speak in your ear.

“Look at him; he wants us so bad,” he whispers. He's not wrong if the flushed skin and raging boner are anything to go by. “Do you wanna invite him in?” he asks, paying no mind to Mihawk's scolding. When you nod, your husband drops his hands away from your chest and between your legs. Mihawk goes silent now that your body is exposed to him. “She has another hole for you,” says Crocodile, pressing his fingers against your lips. You obey his silent command and open your mouth to suck on his fingers. “y'know if you want help with that,” smirks your husband, gesturing to the tent pitched in Mihawk's trousers.

Mihawk considers the offer for a minute before approaching the bed. Crocodile lets go of your body and pushes you back down as Mihawk pulls his cock free from his trousers. You lick up the underside of his cock and then take him into your mouth, relaxing into taking as much of him as you can. You can hear verbal encouragement from both men, but you're not focusing on the words at all; you're too busy being stuffed with cock.

Zoro

Zoro can't keep his hands off of you, you've been at a bar for all of ten minutes and he's itching to pull into the nearest bathroom and fuck you stupid.

“Baby, come on,” Zoro says, pulling your back against his chest as you stand at the bar. “No one will even notice we're gone.”

Your boyfriend is impossible to resist and you let him drag you to the bathroom. He pins you against the wall, kissing you as he pulls his cock free. He holds his hand in front of your face, instructing you to spit in his palm. He uses your saliva to lube up his cock before lining himself up with your cunt and pushing in. You pull Zoro into another kiss, much nastier and messier than the last. His hips rock into you, cock dragging against your sensitive walls.

“Hold on to me, pretty girl”, he groans as you cling to his shoulders. He fuckss you harder, intending to make you cum as quickly as possible so he can get you home and really take his time with you. Neither of you realise that you didn't lock the door until you notice a blonde man with a familiar pair of eyebrows staring at you in shock.

“Zoro, Sanji's here,” You whine, slightly embarrassed. He knows; he heard Sanji coming in. He just doesn't care. At this point, almost nothing could stop him from making you cum.

“Let him watch. Let that shitty cook see what he'll never have” The cocky smile on his face makes your pussy drool. Zoro isn't jealous; he has no reason to be, but he has one of the nastiest possessive streaks you've ever seen in your life. “This pretty pussy is all mine, right baby?”

“uh-huh” is the only pair of syllables you can form as he fucks you so hard you fear you might crack the wall. You're not lying, though. Every part of your mind, body, and soul belongs to Zoro and vice versa. Sanji tries to focus on glaring at the swordsman, but he keeps getting distracted by your exposed skin and pretty noises.

“Cum for me” He emphasises the word ‘me’ reminding both you and Sanji that every drop of cum that leaks from your sweet pussy is his. Your body follows through on the command, shaking in his grasp as you cum. Both men stare at you in awe. Zoro cums soon after, unable to stand the way your cunt pulses around his sensitive cock any longer. “Get out of here,” Zoro growls, voice startling Sanji back to reality and he hurries off so you and Zoro can clean up in privacy.

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thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

comments and reblogs are massively appreciated ♡

[mononijikayu]

the other woman — ryomen sukuna.

“Do not mistake this for affection.” he warned, his voice low and rough. “I am still who I am. I am still the monster you should fear.” But you could only nod, your heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I know,” you whispered. “I know, but I’m still here.” And for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of softness in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be… understanding. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to reach him, one fragile step at a time.

GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/no comfort, unhappy marriage, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, unhappy ending, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of illness, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;

WORD COUNT: 11k words

NOTE: this was always going to be long, because it's heartbreaking. and heartbreaking ones have to be something that has to be expressed well. i listened to this in a audio software like its a podcast and i actually liked it. the other woman by nina simone was the constant in the writing. also, this is the aftermath of ashes of love, which is a series i did about heian sukuna. anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

main masterlist

the other woman masterlist

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YOU KNEW THAT YOU WERE THIS UNLUCKY. The moment you were born, there would be a bleak fate for you to live. You were an accidental child, and multiple times, your own mother had nearly miscarried. Perhaps even as a fetus, you had always known this. How cursed you were. Even if you had done nothing. 

When your mother brushed your hair as a child, she would tell you of how you were born. She said that when you breathed the air for the first time, you were melancholic in the silence to the world. Somehow knew that you were built for this miserable world. And every day since that day, you knew. You were meant to live life without true joyous jubilation.

It did not help that the day you were born, there was a lone dark star in the morning sky, one which had been considered a bad omen. And with that, the whispers of fate echoing long before you had even had consciousness to know. Your village nestled in the shadowed valleys of Hida province, a place of whispered dread and ancient pacts. And for the longest of times, the once prosperous Hida province was in turmoil. 

And so, in those days, if there was anyone who controlled the ruins of Hida, it was that god-like curse user Ryomen Sukuna. His name alone was a talisman against the unknown horrors that lurked beyond the mountains, a deity whose power and wrath commanded fear and reverence in equal measure. And all either quivered at the sight of him or drew fanatic fervor. 

The Ryomen clan, his kin at one point, were at war—embroiled in brutal conflicts with neighboring clans for so long. And this had been going on before you were even born. The blood had soaked the earth for so long that the soil seemed to thirst for it. And the people were exhausted. 

The clan struggled to maintain control over Hida for a long time now, their influence fraying like an old tapestry torn at the seams. And with that, a power vacuum had long been in existence. The chaos of the era was a tide that threatened to drown them all, and Ryomen Sukuna's protection became the last fragile hope for those who called this land their home.

Your parents spoke in hushed voices of the offerings, the sacrifices made by the villagers to appease their god, the man who can save them,  this man to fear and worship, Ryomen Sukuna. To ensure his protection, they said. For years, the sacrifices continued, the chosen ones becoming mere footnotes in a history written in blood and fear. 

It came upon you rather quickly when you were young and it struck you—that the villagers saw you not as one of their own, but as a piece on a board, a pawn destined for slaughter. A sacrifice to their god. You would be among the countless, one more life to be cast into the jaws of the demon god they all feared.

The day of your sacrifice came as the sky was painted with hues of blood and gold, a cruel irony that did not escape you. The air was heavy with incense and prayer, but there was no comfort in their muttered words, no solace in the chants that pleaded for Sukuna's mercy. They adorned you in ceremonial robes, marked with symbols and sigils, your skin painted with the sacred ink that was supposed to cleanse your soul before the offering.

You were led through the village, a procession of death that seemed to stretch on forever. The eyes that watched you pass were filled with a mixture of pity and relief—relief that it was not them, not their child, not their blood that would be spilled today. Mothers held their children close, men bowed their heads, and the elders chanted in a low, continuous hum that sent shivers down your spine.

At the shrine, they bound you to the altar, thick ropes biting into your skin as you stared at the sky, searching for a sign, a miracle that never came. The high priest began his incantation, his voice rising above the murmur of the crowd. You could feel the cold seep into your bones, the air around you thickening as if the very world held its breath.

And then, you felt it—the shift in the air, the heavy presence that pressed against your chest like a vice. You had never seen him before, but you knew it was Sukuna. The villagers gasped, a collective intake of breath as his form materialized from the shadows, a figure cloaked in malice and power.

His eyes, crimson and unforgiving, swept over you like a cold blade. You felt your heart hammer against your ribcage, fear clawing at your throat. You were nothing to him, just another offering, another desperate plea from a village clinging to survival.

Ryomen Sukuna smiled, a slow, cruel smile that sent a tremor through the crowd. He stepped forward, each movement a ripple in the air, as if reality itself bent to his will. You met his gaze, defiant in your fear, knowing that you were one of many. Countless lives had been given to him, countless souls lost to his hunger.

And now, it was your turn.

  

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YOU HAD NEVER EXPECTED TO MEET THE MAN IN THE FLESH. But before you stood this man, this god, with dark crimson eyes. Taller than any tree, intimidating than any curse. Frightening than hell itself. You could remember when you were younger. The whispers reached you before you even stepped foot in the shrine, everyone has. Tales of Ryomen Sukuna had traveled through the villages like the wind, carrying with them rumors that were both terrifying and tragic. 

You had always known that the man was delighted with the worship of the human people. But they said he had taken no other concubines, that he showed no interest in any woman who dared come near him.

And if he did, they were more likely to be servants than anything close to a concubine. And some were not so lucky. Some spoke in hushed tones, their voices trembling with fear, that he was a monster of unspeakable debauchery, one who had killed the women for even daring to breathe in his presence.

But the truth, as you had come to understand it, was far more tragic. At least from how you see it. The people of Hida knew—oh, they believed—the story was told long ago. There was someone who had been so loved long ago and most of all, by Sukuna.

Ryomen Hiromi, the one who had captured Sukuna's heart, the one he had loved beyond reason. There was another Sukuna a long time ago, many were aware. But there was nothing proven.

If anything, the children of Hiromi reject any notion of such a relationship. But the tale was woven into the very fabric of tales told, whispered among the elders late at night and shared in riddles among the children who barely understood the weight of what they spoke.

Hiromi, they said, had been his sun, his moon, his stars. A woman of beauty and strength, whose laughter could calm the wildest storms and whose voice was like the sweetest song. She had been the only one to ever touch his heart, to see the man beneath the demon god. But she was gone now, lost to time and tragedy, leaving Ryomen Sukuna to languish in his grief. 

No one dared speak her name aloud, not when Sukuna’s rage could split the earth itself. People have seen it. It was said he mourned her loss every day, that his fury was born from the emptiness she left behind. And that was why he would not tolerate any other woman. No one was going to be like her. None would match her wit, her beauty. Why should the king of curses settle for less when he had the world? 

As you lay on the cold altar, the ropes cutting into your skin, your thoughts were consumed by the stories. What kind of man—no, what kind of creature—was Sukuna? You wonder about this paradox of a man, this creature like god.

Did he truly mourn, or was that just another tale spun by terrified villagers to make him seem more human? What was he, actually? You had a million questions, and you know they will never truly be answered.

A gust of wind stirred the trees around you, the leaves rustling like whispered secrets. You heard the shuffle of feet, felt the eyes of the villagers upon you, their fear palpable. Then, you heard his voice. You could feel it all, that powerful cursed energy, coming from one direction. For a moment, you had no words. Only uncertainty.

"Why do they send another?" Sukuna's voice was like a low growl, rumbling through the air with the force of a storm. "Do you think I am so easily appeased, you fools?"

You dared to lift your head, the ropes pulling at your skin as you met his crimson gaze. He was tall, imposing, and every bit as terrifying as the stories had painted him. But there was something else there—something in his eyes that spoke of deep, simmering pain.

"Do you truly want to know why they sent me?" you found yourself saying, your voice steady despite the fear clawing at your throat.

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might strike you down then and there. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Speak, then, girl." he said. "Tell me why I should not turn you to dust where you lie."

You swallowed, gathering your courage. "They send me because they fear you, because they believe you will protect them if they give you what you want. But… no one knows what you truly want, do they? No one speaks of her. Of Hiromi."

His expression shifted, a shadow passing over his face, and you knew you had struck a nerve. The air grew colder, a chill that seemed to seep into your very bones.

"Hiromi is dead." he said, his voice quiet but filled with an edge that could cut through steel. "And no one speaks her name. It is what I command.”

"But you still mourn her…." you continued, unable to stop yourself. "Do you not, my lord?”

His dark gaze bore into you, the weight of it almost unbearable. For a long moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched on like an eternity. Then, slowly, he laughed—a sound that was bitter and hollow.

"You dare ask?" he repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. "What do you know of it all, little one? What do you know about such a life lived?"

You felt a tremor run through you, but you did not look away. "I know enough, my lord." you replied softly. "I know enough to see that your anger is not born of hatred, but of grief."

Sukuna's cruel smile quickly faded, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, quickly swallowed by the darkness. He hated how you said it, you know it too well. But there was no other choice. You were here for a purpose and you must fulfill it. You must. 

"You are bold, little one." he murmured. "Bold….for someone so close to death."

"Perhaps, my lord." you whispered back to him. "But if I am to die, I would rather die knowing who you truly are, rather than the monster they say you are."

He stared at you for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then, he stepped closer, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the power that thrummed through him like a thunder strike.

"Then you are a fool, little one." he said quietly. "For believing that I am anything more than a monster."

But there was something in his voice, something that made you wonder if perhaps… he wished you were right.

For the meantime, you were lucky to have your life, despite speaking so boldly, despite saying her name aloud—the name that everyone else dared not utter. Sukuna’s silence stretched on, his crimson eyes still locked onto yours, unreadable, cold yet burning with something darker beneath the surface. He could have ended you with a flick of his wrist, reduced you to ashes for your insolence. And yet, he did not.

He leaned closer, the edges of his form blurring into the shadows that seemed to ripple around him like stabbing waves in the ocean. His breath was hot against your skin, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. You felt your heart pound in your chest, each beat a drum that signaled your fragile hold on life.

“Perhaps you are simply foolish. Many have died for far less than what you dared to speak.” Sukuna finally said, his voice low, almost contemplative. “Huh, you speak brashly.”

The villagers around you seemed to hold their breath, waiting for his judgment. They looked at you with a mixture of horror and awe, unable to believe you were still alive after uttering the forbidden name. You, a mere sacrifice, a lamb thrown to the wolf, had survived what so many others had not.

“Why do you think I will let you live?” Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense silence, his tone curious, but with a dangerous edge. “Do you think I find you interesting? Amusing? Or perhaps I see something of her in you, something worth sparing?”

You swallowed hard, the reality of your situation settling in. You had survived speaking out of turn, but you were still bound to this altar, still at the mercy of a being who could destroy you on a whim. Yet, something in his words gave you pause, a flicker of something unspoken that lingered just beneath his surface.

“I do not presume to know your reasons, my lord.” you replied carefully, choosing each word like a step on thin ice. “But if you see something of her in me… then perhaps I am not so different from you after all.”

Sukuna’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing. “Not so different?” He laughed, a sound that was both mirthful and bitter, filled with a deep, aching emptiness. “You compare yourself to me? To Ryomen Sukuna? You are a child, a mere mortal who knows nothing of gods or demons, of love that scorches the soul and burns the world to ash.”

“And yet…..” you dared to continue, feeling the tightness in your chest. “If my lord felt nothing, you wouldn’t care enough to be angry… or to remember.”

He stiffened, and for a moment, his expression faltered. The shadows seemed to deepen around him, his aura flickering like a candle flame caught in a strong wind. You sensed that you were dancing on a razor’s edge, but you could not stop now. There was something here, something raw and real beneath the monstrous exterior.

“Enough.” Sukuna hissed, his voice a sharp command. The air grew colder, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “You dare much, human. Too much.”

You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself for the inevitable blow, the moment when his patience would finally snap. But instead, Sukuna’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that did not reach his eyes.

“Perhaps I will spare you.” he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. “If only to see how long that fire burns before it is extinguished. Or perhaps to see if you will end up like the rest—broken, hollow, pleading for mercy where there is none.”

He turned away from you then, his back a wall of power and darkness, his form towering against the dim light of the shrine. The villagers started, stunned, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You will reside in my temple.” Sukuna commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You will remain there, under my watch. Let them see what comes of those who speak of things best left forgotten.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, a mixture of fear and shock. They did not understand why he had spared you, why you, of all people, were allowed to live. Perhaps they thought you were cursed, or perhaps they thought Sukuna had some darker plan in mind. But you knew better. You knew that, in some small way, you had touched on a wound that had never healed, a scar buried deep beneath his monstrous exterior.

And as Sukuna vanished into the shadows, you realized that your fate was no longer in the hands of the villagers, or even in the hands of the gods they prayed to. No, your fate was now bound to his—a god who mourned like a man, a monster who remembered what it was to love.

══════════════════

IN A WAY, IT IS NOT SO BAD, BEING HIS CONCUBINE. You spent your days in isolation, your life confined within the walls of Sukuna's palace. You were nothing more than a servant, though they called you a concubine. The title meant little, for you were given no special privileges, no adornments, no tokens of affection. 

But it was a life. Your life. And it lived in some comfort, more than what is experienced by the rest of Hida province. You had multiple meals a day, you had rooms to yourself and even servants that address every bit of your needs.

Still, your world was small, your days filled with the quiet tending of the gardens, watching the shifting sky as the hours bled into one another. The flowers you nurtured became your only friends, their petals a fragile comfort against the cold indifference that surrounded you.

Perhaps the peace came from the fact that you did not see Sukuna often, and when you did, his gaze never lingered on you for long. He had no interest, no affection, no fondness to spare. You were simply there, like a shadow in the corner of his realm.

A figure lost amidst the vast emptiness of his domain. And perhaps that was for the best. It was better than being forced into Sukuna’s bed. You think that all women in the harem think that it was better that way.

But slowly, ever so slowly, something changed. His dark scarlet eyes began to linger, just a fraction longer than before. You felt the weight of his gaze like a chill running down your spine.

The other servants noticed it too, their whispers growing louder, bolder. You finally caught his attention. But it wasn’t because he had come to care for you, to see you as anything more than the nothing you were.

No, the truth was much crueler than that.

You were a spitting image of Ryomen Hiromi, the woman who haunted his every step, the ghost who lived in the shadows of his mind. At least that’s what the people say. But you did not want to believe them. Yet, looking at the murals at the glass gardens, the resemblance was uncanny.

It was obvious somehow. It was similar, everything. Your eyes, your hair, the curve of your smile. Every feature, every gesture seemed to remind him of her. And though you knew you could never be her, you had become a cruel echo, a reflection of something he had long lost.

And soon enough, the people talked. Of course, they did. They always talked. You tried to shut them out, but the more they whispered, the more people listened. And the more they listened, the more people spoke.  

“She reminds him of Hiromi, I am certain!” they whispered. “She is nothing but a shadow, a poor replacement for the one he truly loved. She lives in her image, as if she could ever hope to fill her place.”

You became the other woman, even when you didn’t want to be. No, not even that. You were a pale imitation, a mockery of a woman who had captured the heart of the king of curses. Every glance Ryomen Sukuna spared you was not a look of admiration or desire—it was the gaze of a man staring into the past, into a memory that was forever out of reach.

And so, you lived your life as another woman. No, the other woman. To a dead woman. To a love that had died long ago, but never truly left. 

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when the silence was so thick it pressed against your skin like a heavy shroud, you would wonder about her. About Ryomen Hiromi. Who was she, really? What had she meant to him, this fearsome god, this creature of darkness who now watched you as if searching for something he had lost in her eyes, now reflected in yours.

He never spoke of her. He does not want to. He does not dare to. Not to you, not to anyone. Some servants have been here longer than you and they have seen people killed over even a mumble of a prayer for the lady. And so you don’t ask. 

Not even when there were times he would come closer, when his dark eyes lingered on your face, searching, always searching. Yet he will never truly find it. He knew this, as much as you did. But it was as if he was trying to see her again, trying to find her in your skin, in your voice, in the way you moved through the gardens like she once had, perhaps. It was hope, a foolish hope. And yet you cannot escape this foolish hope.

The weight of her memory suffocated you. You were not allowed to be yourself, to have your own name, your own identity. You were always, always compared to her, measured against a ghost that you could never be, never touch. And Sukuna, with his cold gaze and his empty eyes, reminded you of it every day.

"You’re not her, little one." he said once, his voice low, more to himself than to you, as if testing a truth he could not fully accept. “You’ll never be her.”

His words cut deeper than any blade, leaving you with the bitter taste of something unnameable, something that tasted like defeat, or perhaps longing, or perhaps both. You had never wished to be her, to be anyone but yourself. But here, in his domain, under his shadow, you were not allowed that freedom.

You were trapped, forever bound to a life that was not your own, in the shadow of a dead woman who would never release you, and a man who could never let her go.

Days bled into nights, a blur of routine and solitude, and you began to feel like a ghost yourself, haunting the corners of Sukuna's palace, where life seemed to move around you but never through you. The servants kept their distance, wary of your resemblance, as if fearing you might be some ill omen, cursed to echo the tragedy of the past.

And Sukuna… he watched you, always watching, his eyes a deep crimson that saw too much and yet revealed nothing. He was like a storm contained within the fragile walls of the palace, his presence a force of nature that you could neither escape nor fully comprehend. His mood was mercurial; one day, he would barely acknowledge you, and the next, his gaze would linger on you, heavy with something you couldn’t name.

“Do you enjoy the garden?” he asked one afternoon, his tone deceptively casual, as if he were simply inquiring about the weather.

You glanced up, surprised that he had addressed you at all. He rarely spoke directly to you, even when his eyes seemed to follow your every movement. “I do,” you replied, careful, measured. “It is quiet there. Peaceful.”

“Quiet…peaceful.” he repeated, almost as if tasting the word. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it did not reach his eyes. “Yes, she liked the quiet too. Always wandering among the flowers. Trees too. She’d like that then.”

You stiffened at the mention of her, the ghost you lived with every day, who lingered in every corner of this place. “I am not her, my lord.” you said, a tremor in your voice. You had repeated these words to yourself countless times, but they sounded fragile, almost insignificant when spoken aloud.

Sukuna's expression did not change. If anything, his gaze grew sharper, like a blade pressed against your skin. “No, little one.” he agreed softly, almost mockingly, “You are not her. But you will do… for now.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, refusing to let him see the fear that coiled within you, like a snake waiting to strike. “Why do you keep me here?” you dared to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Why do you watch me as if you expect me to become someone else?”

He laughed then, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You misunderstand, little one. I do not expect you to become her. I know you never can. But you… remind me of her. And that is enough… for now.”

The way he said it, the way his eyes darkened with something unreadable, made your blood run cold. You were nothing more than a stand-in, a living, breathing reminder of something he had lost. A cruel joke played by fate, a shadow dancing in the place of the one who truly mattered. To be kept alive, your village kept alive — because you look like a ghost. 

“I am not a replacement, my lord.” you insisted, your voice firmer this time, surprising even yourself with the strength behind it. “I hope my lord knows that I will not live my life as a mere echo.”

His smile faded, his expression turning serious. “You think you have a choice?” he asked, leaning in closer, his face so near to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. “You are here because I allow it. You exist at my whim, not because of who you are, but because of who you resemble. Do not mistake this for anything more than it is.”

The reality of his words hit you like a blow, the finality of it sinking deep into your bones. You were nothing to him, nothing but a passing fancy, a painful reminder of a past he could not reclaim.

“I am not her, my lord.” you repeated, your voice shaking with defiance, with a spark of something that refused to be extinguished. “And I will not be her for you. You must understand.”

For a moment, something flickered in Sukuna's eyes, something almost like surprise, perhaps even respect. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, unfeeling mask he always wore.

“Brave words, little one.” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “But words mean little here, in my domain. You will learn that soon enough.”

He turned away from you then, leaving you standing alone in the empty hall, your heart pounding in your chest, your hands trembling at your sides. The silence closed in around you, heavy and oppressive, and you knew that nothing had changed. You were still trapped, still living in the shadow of a dead woman, still bound to the whims of a god who mourned like a man.

And yet, deep inside, something stirred—a flicker of defiance, of hope. You might be a ghost to him, a reflection of a lost love, but you were still alive. You were still you, and as long as you drew breath, you would not allow yourself to be consumed by his shadows. Not without a fight.

Time passed slowly in Sukuna’s palace, and with it, your heart began to change. You did not notice it at first; how could you? Day after day, the monotonous routine of your existence lulled you into a sort of numbness. The gardens became your refuge, the sky your solace.

Yet even as you tried to find comfort in these simple pleasures, you found your thoughts wandering back to him—Ryomen Sukuna, the fearsome god, the monster, the man who mourned like a human.

At first, you hated him, hated him for what he represented, for what he had made you into: a replacement, a mere shadow of someone who had meant everything to him. But as you watched him, as the days turned to weeks and weeks to months, you began to see more.

You began to notice the things others did not—the subtle tension in his jaw when he was angry, the way his eyes softened just a fraction when he spoke of her, the quiet moments when he thought no one was looking, and the mask slipped, just a little.

You were in the garden one afternoon, trimming the roses, when you heard footsteps approaching. Sukuna rarely came to the garden, but today he seemed restless, pacing along the paths with a dark expression on his face. He stopped by the old cherry blossom tree, his eyes distant, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Without thinking, you moved closer. "Is something troubling you, my lord?" you asked quietly, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. You had learned not to provoke him, to keep your words soft and your gaze steady.

Sukuna looked at you sharply, as if surprised you had dared to speak. "Why do you care?" he snapped, his tone harsh, but you had seen the flicker of something else—a fleeting vulnerability, perhaps? “Such matters are none for you to care about, little one.”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I see you every day, my lord.” you replied softly. “I see how you… struggle over something. And I cannot help but… care.”

He scoffed, but it was a hollow sound. “Care?” he echoed, almost mockingly. “You think you understand me, mortal? You think you can comprehend the depths of what I am, of what I have lost?”

You bowed your head, feeling the sting of his words but refusing to back down. “I don’t pretend to understand, my lord.” you murmured. “But I see the pain in your eyes, the way you linger in places she once loved, the way you… look at me.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he turned away, his shoulders tense, his hands unclenching. “You are a fool, little one.” he muttered, almost too softly for you to hear. “A fool to think you can feel anything for me.”

And maybe you were a fool. A fool to care for a man who did not care for you, who saw you only as a shadow of someone else. But you could not help it. You could not stop the way your heart ached when you saw him, the way your breath caught when he looked at you with those sad, tired eyes.

Day by day, you found yourself drawn to him, not by his power or his beauty, but by the quiet moments when he thought no one was watching. The moments when his face softened, and you saw the man beneath the monster, the man who had loved so deeply and lost so terribly.

You saw the cracks in his armor, the places where he had been wounded, and you wanted, desperately, to reach out and touch them, to soothe the pain you knew he carried.

You found yourself thinking of him when you were alone, wondering what had made him this way, what had broken him so completely. You imagined him before all of this, before the darkness, before the loss, and you felt a strange, deep sorrow for the man he might have been.

One evening, as you were leaving the garden, you saw him standing by the cherry blossom tree again, his face turned upward, staring at the pale blooms against the darkening sky. He looked so lonely, so unbearably alone, that you felt your heart tighten in your chest.

Without thinking, you approached him, moving slowly, cautiously, as if approaching a wounded animal. “My lord, look.” you said softly, and he did not turn away. “The blossoms… they’re beautiful this year.”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Hiromi loved them.” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you could not quite name. “Fond of them.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I imagine she did, my lord.” you replied. “They’re… peaceful.”

He was silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the flowers. Then he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “She was… my peace.” he admitted, his tone so raw, so vulnerable, that it made your chest tighten painfully. “And now… there is only emptiness.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to touch his hand, to tell him that he was not as alone as he thought, but you knew he would not accept it. So you stood there, beside him, sharing the silence, hoping that maybe, in some small way, your presence could ease the ache in his heart.

And slowly, painfully, you realized that you were falling into the saddest position in the world. You were beginning to care for him, truly care for him, despite knowing that he did not, and could not, care for you. You were beginning to understand him, to see the depths of his sorrow, to feel the weight of his loss as if it were your own.

You were living as a shadow, and yet… you found yourself wishing, hoping, that someday he might see you as something more. Even if you were just a reflection of a memory, even if you could never be her, you wished, desperately, that you could become someone to him.

But as you looked at him, at the emptiness in his eyes, you knew that day might never come. And still, you could not help but care.

Days continued to slip by in a blur of silent moments and stolen glances, and though you tried to keep your heart guarded, you felt it slipping further and further away from you, like water through your fingers. You had resigned yourself to your fate—a concubine in name, a ghost in truth. You had accepted that Sukuna would never see you as anything more than a mere echo of what he had lost.

But as time passed, you noticed a subtle change in him. It was in the way his gaze lingered on you a moment longer, or how his tone softened when he spoke to you. It was in the quiet moments when you would catch him watching you, his expression inscrutable, as if he were trying to decipher some mystery he could not quite solve.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in shades of crimson and gold, you found yourself in the garden again. Sukuna was there, seated on a low stone bench beneath the cherry blossom tree, his face turned upward as if searching for something in the dying light.

You approached cautiously, unsure if he wanted your presence or not. He did not turn to look at you, but he did not send you away, either. You took it as a small mercy, a silent invitation to sit beside him.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you like a fragile thread, delicate and unbroken. Finally, Sukuna spoke, his voice low and contemplative. “You are always here, little one.” he murmured. “Always watching. Why?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I see you, my lord.” you replied quietly. “I see the way you carry your pain, the way you hide it behind your eyes. I… I understand it, in a way.”

He turned to you then, his gaze piercing, searching your face as if trying to find the truth hidden within your words. “And what do you think you understand?” he asked, a note of challenge in his tone.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his stare. “I think you loved her more than life itself, my lord.” you said softly. “And I think losing her broke something inside of you that will never heal.”

He was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed—a harsh, bitter sound that cut through the stillness like a knife. “You presume to know my heart, mortal.” he said, but there was no true malice in his voice, only a deep, hollow emptiness. “You think because you look like her, you can speak of love and loss?”

“I do not pretend to be her, my lord.” you answered, your voice steady, even as your heart pounded in your chest. “But I know what it is to lose, to live with emptiness. I know what it means to be alone, even in a crowded room.”

His eyes softened, just for a moment, and you could almost see the man beneath the monster, the one who had loved and lost, who had once been capable of kindness, of tenderness.

“You think you know loneliness?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable. “You think you know what it is to love someone so deeply that their absence is like a knife in your soul, cutting you with every breath?”

“I think I’m starting to understand, my lord.” you whispered. “More than I ever wanted to.”

He looked away, his jaw clenched tight, and you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You are a fool.” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only a weary resignation. “You should hate me. You should despise me for what I am, for what I have made you.”

You shook your head slowly. “I can’t, my lord.” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. Maybe it’s because I see the pain in your eyes, the way you look at me… the way you remember her. I can’t hate you for that. I just… I wish things were different.”

He turned to you sharply, and for a moment, there was something raw and desperate in his gaze, something that spoke of a longing he had buried deep within himself. “Different?” he repeated, almost scoffing. “There is no ‘different’ for us. This is the world we have been given, and we must live in it.”

You felt your heart clench painfully, knowing he was right, knowing that no matter how much you wished for it, you could never truly reach him, could never become more than what you were—a shadow, a reflection of a woman long gone.

But you could not stop yourself from caring, from hoping that somehow, someway, he might see you, truly see you, not as a ghost or a replacement, but as a person in your own right.

You sighed, turning your gaze to the blossoms above. “I know, my lord.” you murmured. “I know that better than anyone. But I still… I still want to understand you. I still care, even if you don’t care for me.”

He was silent, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you feared you had said too much, crossed a line you could never return from. But then, slowly, he reached out and took your hand in his, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.

“You are a strange one, little one.” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. “To care for a monster… to care for a man who has nothing left to give.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you did not bother to hide it. “Maybe I’m just a fool, my lord” you whispered. “But I can’t help it. I can’t help but care for you, even when I know you can’t care for me.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, as if looking for some answer he could not find. Then, without a word, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gesture so tender it took your breath away.

“Do not mistake this for affection.” he warned, his voice low and rough. “I am still who I am. I am still the monster you should fear.”

But you could only nod, your heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I know,” you whispered. “I know, but I’m still here.”

And for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of softness in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be… understanding. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to reach him, one fragile step at a time.

══════════════════

TIME FLEW BY AND WITH THAT, YOU AGED TOO. Slowly, like the steady drip of water carving its path through stone, Ryomen Sukuna began to accept your presence as something constant in his life. At first, it was subtle—the way he no longer sent you away when you appeared by his side, the way he allowed you to linger in his chambers or the garden without a word of complaint.

Over time, it grew into something more. He began to call for you, not often, but enough that you noticed. Sometimes, it was just to sit in silence while he read or stared into the fire, and other times, he would speak to you, his voice low and distant, as if he were speaking to himself rather than you.

He did not love you; you knew that much with painful certainty. His heart belonged to another, to a woman whose name he whispered in his dreams, whose memory seemed to haunt his every step. You were not her, and you never would be. You were a shadow of what he had lost, a pale reflection of a love that had burned too bright and consumed itself in the flames.

But he tolerated you, and in this dark, twisted place where fear ruled and love was a forgotten dream, that was enough. You had learned to find solace in the little things—the way his gaze would occasionally soften when he looked at you, the rare moments when his voice held a note of something other than indifference. 

You knew you would never escape Hiromi’s shadow. Her ghost lingered in every corner of this place, in every whispered word and hushed breath, in the way his eyes darkened whenever he spoke of her.

You were not foolish enough to think you could ever replace her in his heart, nor did you wish to. You had come to terms with your fate, with the cruel twist of destiny that had brought you here, to this palace where the walls seemed to whisper her name.

For the finite years of your mortal life, you would be what you were to him—an echo, a shadow, a living memory of something lost. You could have fought against it, could have railed against the injustice of it all, but you chose not to. You chose to make peace with what fate had given you, to find what small joys you could in the fleeting moments he allowed you to be near him.

There were times when the weight of your existence threatened to crush you, when you longed to scream, to demand that he see you for who you were, not for the woman you resembled. But those moments were few and far between, and you had learned to push them down, to bury them deep within your heart where they could not hurt you.

Instead, you found contentment in the little things—in the way his presence filled the room, in the rare, unguarded moments when he would speak to you of things he had buried deep within himself. You listened to his stories, the ones he told in quiet tones when he thought no one was listening, and you treasured them like precious gems, tiny fragments of the man he had once been.

You learned to be grateful for what you had, even if it was not what you had dreamed of. You accepted that you would always live in the shadow of Hiromi, that you would always be the "other woman"; the one who was not loved, but merely tolerated. And for as long as you had breath in your lungs and life in your veins, you chose to find peace in that.

You sat beside him by the fire, you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you. He was quiet, his eyes fixed on the flames, his expression thoughtful. He did not look at you, but you could feel his presence, warm and solid beside you, a reminder that you were not entirely alone in this world.

You turned your gaze to the fire, letting the heat warm your face, and you whispered, almost to yourself, “I do not ask for more than this. I am… content with what I have.”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to understand your words. “Content?” he repeated, a hint of incredulity in his voice. “You are content being nothing but a shadow?”

You smiled softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. “Contentment is a choice, my lord.” you replied. “I chose to be content with what fate has given me. It is not happiness, but it is enough.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then he nodded slowly. “Perhaps you are wiser than I thought now, little one.” he murmured. “To find peace in a place like this… it is no easy feat.”

You nodded, knowing he spoke more to himself than to you. You had accepted that you would never be more than a shadow in his life, but even shadows had their place, their purpose. You would be content with that, for as long as your mortal years allowed.

The days passed with a creeping heaviness that settled into your bones, a fatigue that no amount of rest could cure. You began to feel the strain in every step, the way your breath came shorter, the way your limbs feel heavy and uncooperative. At first, you dismissed it as exhaustion, a lingering effect of sleepless nights and endless thoughts that twisted in your mind like shadows.

But then came the coughing fits, each one more violent than the last, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a sharp pain in your chest. You ignored it at first, waving away the concerned glances of the servants who attended you. You kept your back straight and your face serene, refusing to acknowledge the way your body seemed to betray you.

Yet it grew harder to hide. The pain became more frequent, stabbing through your lungs like a knife with every breath, every step. The first time you coughed up blood, it was a shock—a bright, vivid red staining your hand. Your heart raced as you stared at the crimson stain, panic rising like bile in your throat.

You quickly wiped it away, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, you were alone in your chamber, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, willing yourself to calm down. There was no reason to be afraid, you told yourself. It was just a momentary lapse, nothing more.

But it wasn’t. It happened again, and again. You found yourself waking in the night, gasping for air, your throat raw and burning. The servants began to notice the dark circles under your eyes, the way you would clutch your side when you thought no one was looking, the way you moved a little slower, a little more carefully.

There was a day that you sat in the garden, trying to find solace in the soft petals of the cherry blossoms, a violent fit seized you. You doubled over, coughing hard, and felt something wet and warm splatter against your lips. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and saw the unmistakable smear of blood.

A sharp gasp came from behind you. One of the younger servants had seen, her eyes wide with fear and concern. She rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she reached out to steady you.

“My lady, oh my!” she whispered, her voice filled with worry. “You’re… you’re bleeding.”

You shook your head, forcing a smile that felt like a grimace. “It is nothing.” you said, your voice hoarse. “Do not worry yourself over me.”

The servant looked unconvinced, her brow furrowed with concern. “I must tell Lord Sukuna.” she said quickly, glancing toward the entrance of the garden as if she expected him to appear at any moment. “He must know—”

“No, no…..” you cut her off sharply, your voice firmer than you had intended. “There is no point in that.”

She hesitated, confusion clouding her eyes. “But, my lady… you are unwell. He should—”

“He would not care, little girl.” you said softly, looking down at your blood-stained hand. “There is no use in troubling him with this. It would make no difference. Sukuna does not love me, nor does he care for me in that way. Do you think he would be moved by something as trivial as this?”

The servant bit her lip, clearly torn between her duty to you and her fear of Sukuna’s wrath. “But… if he knew, he might—”

“Might what?” you interrupted, your voice edged with a quiet resignation. “Send a healer? Take pity on me? No, he would not. I am nothing more than a reminder to him, a shadow of a past he cannot let go. He tolerates me, yes, but that is all.”

The servant looked at you, her eyes filling with tears, but she nodded slowly, understanding the weight of your words. She knew as well as you did that Sukuna’s heart was a barren, desolate place, filled with ghosts and haunted memories. There was no room for you there.

“Promise me, little girl.” you whispered, reaching out to touch her arm gently. “Promise me you won’t tell him.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, her expression tight with worry. “I promise, my lady.” she murmured, though you could hear the doubt in her voice.

You leaned back against the tree, closing your eyes and letting the cool breeze brush against your skin. You knew there was no point in hoping for more than what you had. Sukuna had given you a place by his side, but it was not out of affection. He had lost the woman he truly loved, and you were only a semblance of her—a shadow he tolerated, nothing more.

You were dying, that much was clear. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way to free yourself from this liminal existence, to escape the torment of being a living reminder of what he had lost. You could find peace in that, you thought. At least, you could try.

You would not burden him with your illness, with your slow, inevitable decline. You would carry it quietly, with dignity, for whatever time you had left. After all, what was one more life in the grand, cruel scheme of his world? You were just another fleeting moment in the endless march of time—another sacrifice, another offering to a man who had already lost everything he had ever cared for.

══════════════════

YOU DECIDED TO LET FATE RUN ITS COURSE. You let time pass by, letting the illness be hidden in the shadows of low whispers and painful tears in your long suffering days and nights. And sure enough, Ryomen Sukuna had returned from his long and exhausting trip within the next few days.

He had been famished from his trip and sent word that he would be having supper with you that night, which you had obliged without another word. You dressed in your finest, watching the servants prepare the table in your chambers and calmly thanked them one after another as they left.

The evening had settled into its usual quiet rhythm, with the two of you sharing dinner in the dimly lit chamber. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the walls, and the scent of roasted meat and simmered vegetables filled the air.

It was a routine you had come to accept with a resigned sort of familiarity, a ritual that offered a small measure of normalcy in your otherwise constrained existence.

You sat across from Sukuna, picking at your meal with an absent-mindedness that spoke more to your weariness than any lack of appetite. His presence was imposing, yet tonight, he was unusually subdued, his attention focused on the food in front of him rather than on you. And somehow, you were a bit more grateful for it.

As you took a sip from your cup, you looked up at him, your expression earnest. "My lord, do you not think you should be more understanding of your subjects?" you began, your voice gentle but firm. "I must implore you once more to be more lenient with the people. The fear you instill is one thing, but mercy could win you their loyalty and respect."

Sukuna's eyes, dark and inscrutable, met yours. He did not respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you as if weighing your words. This was not the first time you had made this plea, and it was not likely to be the last. You had grown accustomed to his silence, to the way he would listen but rarely act upon your suggestions.

"It is not for me to coddle them, little one." he said finally, his voice low and dismissive. "Fear is a more effective tool than mercy. It ensures obedience."

You sighed softly, knowing well that your words often fell on deaf ears. Still, you persisted, driven by a conviction that even the smallest act of kindness could make a difference. "I understand your perspective, my lord,  but sometimes even the harshest rulers find strength in showing compassion. It can—"

Before you could finish your thought, a sudden, sharp pain gripped your chest. You gasped, doubling over slightly, and a violent coughing fit overtook you. You struggled to steady yourself, but the force of it was too strong. Blood splattered onto the table, the vibrant red stark against the white of your kimono and the pale wood of the dining surface.

Your heart raced as you quickly wiped the blood away with your sleeve, hoping to hide the evidence of your distress. You tried to maintain your composure, but your hands were trembling as you looked up at Sukuna, who had gone still, his eyes fixed on the crimson stain.

For a moment, there was a silence so thick it felt like a physical presence. Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze was heavy and unyielding, his red eyes locked onto the blood that had marred the table and your attire. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, his silence, a heavy burden that pressed down upon you.

"It's nothing, my lord." you said hurriedly, forcing a weak smile as you tried to brush off the incident. "Just a momentary lapse. Please, continue with your meal."

Sukuna’s expression was unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. He did not speak, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—perhaps surprise, or concern, or something deeper that he quickly masked.

You could feel the tension between you, an invisible thread connecting your quiet plea to his unspoken thoughts. It was clear that your condition had not gone unnoticed, even if he chose not to acknowledge it openly. You had always been a presence in his life, but tonight, the reality of your fragility seemed to cut through the usual indifference.

He took a deep breath, his gaze finally shifting away from you as he turned his attention back to his meal. The silence that followed was filled with the soft clinking of utensils and the low murmur of conversation from the servants who hovered at the edges of the room, their eyes darting to you with barely concealed concern.

You ate in silence, each bite of food tasting like ash in your mouth. The pain in your chest had subsided, but a deep weariness remained, a lingering reminder of your deteriorating health. You glanced at Sukuna from time to time, but he was absorbed in his meal, his expression unreadable.

The conversation you had tried to initiate was now buried beneath the weight of your illness, and you knew better than to press further. The battle for his leniency would have to wait for another day, another time when you were not so overshadowed by your own suffering.

As the meal drew to a close, you felt the oppressive silence settle around you once more. Sukuna’s gaze was distant, his thoughts seemingly occupied with matters beyond the confines of the dining room. You could only hope that, in some small way, your presence had made a difference, even if it was not the kind you had hoped for.

When the servants cleared away the dishes and the room began to empty, you excused yourself, retreating to your chamber with a heavy heart. You knew that your time here was growing shorter, that the end was approaching with each passing day. But for now, you would carry on, finding what small measure of peace you could in the fleeting moments you had left.

And as you lay down in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, you could not help but think of the blood you had tried to hide, of the way Sukuna’s eyes had lingered on it. You could only hope that someday, he might see you not as a mere shadow or a reminder of what he had lost, but as a person who had tried, in her own way, to make a difference in his world.

The next morning, you awoke to a disorienting cacophony of shouts and harsh reprimands. The once-familiar silence of your quarters was shattered by the sounds of chaos from the courtyard. Your heart sank as you stumbled out of bed, a sharp pain reminding you of the night before.

As you made your way through the hallways, the noise grew louder, mingling with the harsh, angry tones of Ryomen Sukuna’s voice. Your mind raced, dreading what you might find. You knew it already. You have seen it in the other households of the other concubines. And you can only know what had caused such a commotion. When you reached the courtyard, the scene before you was both startling and terrifying.

Your servants were gathered in the center of the courtyard, their faces pale with fear and their postures crumpled under the weight of Sukuna’s wrath. He stood at the center of the commotion, his expression thunderous as he raged at them. His anger was palpable, his words a relentless storm of fury directed at those who had failed to inform him of your condition.

Your breath caught in your throat, and without thinking, you stepped forward, your heart pounding in your chest. The courtyard fell into a stunned silence as Sukuna’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and irritation.

"My lord, please." you began, your voice trembling as you bowed deeply, your forehead nearly touching the ground. "This is my fault, not theirs. I beg for your forgiveness and mercy for my servants."

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed as he took in your contrite posture, his anger momentarily faltering. He regarded you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, his dark, unforgiving, gaze sharp as he assessed your sincerity.

"It was my decision to hide my illness, my lord." you continued, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I did not want to trouble you or cause unnecessary concern. Please, spare them your anger. They were only following my wishes."

Ryomen Sukuna remained silent for a moment, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. The servants, though still shaken, dared to lift their eyes to you, their expressions a blend of relief and apprehension.

Finally, Sukuna's gaze softened, a hint of resignation creeping into his expression. He took a deep breath, his anger dissipating as he looked at you with a new intensity. "You would take the blame for them?" he asked, his voice low and edged with incredulity.

You nodded, maintaining your bowed position. "Yes, my lord. It was my choice, my responsibility. I could not bear the thought of them being punished for my actions."

Sukuna’s expression hardened slightly, but the fury in his eyes had dimmed. After a moment of consideration, he gave a curt nod. "Very well. You will accept any punishment I shall put upon you.”

You swallowed the bile down your throat. “Yes, my lord.”

“Then I will call for healers. You will see them immediately." He says, as though it was the final verdict. “You will see them, all of them. Do you understand?”

“Yes…yes, my lord.” You whispered back to him.

He turned away from the servants, his gaze now fixed on you with an inscrutable intensity. "Go." he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "See to your health, you foolish girl. Your servants too can go. They will tend to you, no matter what you ask.”

You straightened slowly, a mixture of relief and trepidation washing over you. You dared to look up at Sukuna, meeting his eyes briefly before turning to address the servants.

"Thank you, my lord." you said quietly, your voice filled with gratitude. "You have done nothing wrong. Please, return to your duties."

With a final, respectful bow, you turned and headed back toward your quarters with the help of your servants. As you entered your quarters, you felt like you had lived a thousand lifetimes in that one moment. Your servants were bowing at your feet, asking for your forgiveness. But you had all but shooed them away, telling them it was your duty as their master.

You wanted to be alone right now. At least when you still had the chance. When the healers arrive, you would have a life to yourself any longer. You would be stuck in their mercy, with their potions and their whims.

You must prepare yourself for the arrival of the healers. You groaned lowly as you clutch your chest, a wave of pain hitting one after the other. It will be over soon, that’s what you hoped. That’s what you want. You want to be free from this pain. You wanted nothing more than to be free.

══════════════════

THE PAIN WAS RELENTLESS. The days dragged on in a relentless cycle of pain and futile hope. Despite the best efforts of countless healers, none seemed able to bring you any real relief.

If anything, your condition worsened, each new treatment only seeming to accelerate your quick decline. Ryomen Sukuna’s frustration was palpable; his anger had become a regular presence, casting a long shadow over the already bleak atmosphere of the estate.

You had heard the whispers of the fate that befell each healer who failed to improve your condition. It was a grim reminder of Sukuna’s volatility, a dangerous mix of desperation and rage. The once-bustling quarters were now filled with an air of fearful tension as new healers arrived, only to face Sukuna’s wrath when their efforts proved ineffectual.

On one of the rare days when you felt well enough to leave your bed, you chose to sit by the garden. The fresh air and the sight of the vibrant blooms were a welcome distraction from the constant ache in your body. You had managed to position yourself on a stool under the gentle shade of a cherry tree, finding some small comfort in watching the birds flit about, their cheerful chirping a stark contrast to the turmoil that had become your life.

Sukuna appeared in the garden, his presence as imposing as ever. He walked with a deliberate pace, his gaze scanning the surroundings with an air of detached observation. As he neared, you looked up and greeted him with a smile, though the effort felt heavy, as if each movement was a strain against the burden of your illness.

“My lord.” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “The skies are beautiful today, aren’t they?”

Sukuna stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your serene expression. The silence stretched between you, an unspoken tension that lingered like the heat of a summer day. He said nothing in response, his gaze fixed on you with an inscrutable intensity.

After a moment, he broke the silence. “How is it that you can accept death with such… calm?” His voice was low, edged with curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, taken aback by his question. A laugh escaped you, soft and brittle, more out of surprise than genuine amusement. “Accept death, my lord?” you repeated. “I haven’t accepted death, in truth. But there is no way to avoid it.”

Sukuna’s eyes remained on you, his expression unreadable as he listened. You continued, your voice tinged with a philosophical resignation. “Death will come for all of us, eventually. It’s a natural end to this life. We all must face it in our own time. In that way, we are all freed from the burdens of this world.”

He studied you with a mixture of skepticism and something akin to contemplation. “You speak as if it is an inevitability you embrace, little one.”

“Not embrace, my lord.” you corrected gently, sighing. “But acknowledge. It’s a part of life, as much as the beginning is. We can fight it or we can accept it, but it will come regardless.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained stoic. He seemed to be weighing your words, his usual fierceness replaced by an unusual quiet. “And you are not afraid, then?”

“Fear?” You tilted your head, considering the question. “I suppose I am afraid of the pain that might come before the end. But fear of death itself? Not so much. It’s merely another step in the journey, my lord. That is what I believe, at least.”

For a moment, there was a stillness between you, punctuated only by the distant chirping of birds. Sukuna’s eyes flickered to the sky, perhaps contemplating the vastness of existence you had spoken of. The anger that had once seemed so consuming in his presence now appeared subdued, replaced by a contemplative silence.

“I see.” he said finally, his tone carrying a trace of grudging respect. “Your words are… unusual.”

You smiled faintly, a tired but genuine expression. “Perhaps. But sometimes, facing the truth can be a way to find peace, my lord.”

Sukuna stood there for a while longer, his presence a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the garden’s tranquility. Finally, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave, his demeanor less harsh than before. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded as he walked away, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

As you sat there, watching the birds and the shifting clouds, you felt a small measure of contentment. Sukuna’s visit had brought a moment of introspection, a reminder of the fragile balance between life and death. Even in your suffering, you found a semblance of peace, understanding that acceptance was not about surrendering to fate but about finding a way to live with it, even as the end loomed ever closer.

And just like that, the day you had dreaded finally arrived. And truly, you were left feeling an unbearable weakness that signaled the end was near. The once-familiar confines of your quarters now seemed like a distant world, and the pain of your illness was a constant, gnawing presence. Each breath was a struggle, each moment of consciousness a battle against the encroaching darkness.

To your surprise, your lord Sukuna appeared by your side as you lay on your bed, his imposing figure contrasting sharply with the fragility of your own condition. He had not been a part of your daily existence in the past weeks, his visits sporadic and his presence usually marked by anger and frustration. But now, he was here, seated beside you in a rare display of stillness.

You looked at him through the haze of pain and weakness, your voice a mere whisper. “My lord, it seems this is my time to part from you.”

Sukuna’s eyes were steady, his gaze betraying an emotion you could not fully decipher. “I know, little one.” he replied simply, his voice holding a note of finality.

A pained laugh escaped your lips, the sound mingling with a shuddering breath. “I only wish… I could avoid being reborn into such misery again. To be the other woman, to be nothing to you.”

Sukuna’s silence stretched between you, a weighty pause that seemed to deepen the divide between you. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “You were something.”

You shook your head, the effort to move even slightly causing a fresh wave of agony. “You lie easily, as you breathe, my lord.” you said with a faint, sorrowful smile.

The silence that followed was heavy and palpable, filled with the unspoken complexities of your relationship. As you lay there, the end drawing closer with each passing moment, you found a strange clarity in the finality of your situation.

“I love you, my lord.” you said softly, the words carrying a weight that transcended the physical pain. “As sad as it is, I do. But I have no intention of having it returned. I hope that, in the next life, I never meet you again.”

Sukuna’s expression remained impassive, but there was a softness in his gaze that belied his usual stoic demeanor. As you took your final, labored breaths, his sigh was a mix of resignation and something deeper, something that spoke to the complexity of your intertwined fates.

“I hope so too, little one.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a rare touch of vulnerability.

With those words hanging in the air, you felt a sense of release, the weight of your suffering beginning to lift. As your consciousness faded and the pain finally ebbed away, you left behind the world that had been both your prison and your refuge. Ryomen Sukuna looked at your lifeless body, pursing his lips into a flat line.

“Live on in a better life, little one.” He whispered, his fingers brushing against your hair. “May you be loved by someone who loves you. May we never meet again, my other woman."

[jk-kiwi]

Warmth of December

Warmth of December (18+) Characters - Sergeant JK x Y/N reader (woman) Genre - slow burn (?), strangers to lovers, basically everything is war themed, the story takes place in old time but is not an accurate representation of real life events, pretty much an old mentality on how things should be and about how people should act, THIS is fiction.  

Summary - Everyone wants a chance at freedom once a brutal war starts taking place, this also means that taking risks and dangerous paths is part of it. But what would you do when a chance for survival appears before you? Will you reach out and take it? Warnings - war stuff (blood, death, mentions bad things done to women, weapons and fights, etc.), angst, drama, fluff, fictional characters, 5 years age gap (20/25), older Jk, suggestive/smut, Jk is kinda cocky/arrogant and sometimes a jerk, he gets better after a while and becomes a total sweetheart, Jk hits a women once (not you), mentions of enslavement, women are kinda treated like objects that have no function other than being obedient housewives that must listen to their husband, mention of chastity/virginity, a lot of mixed feelings, slight aggression towards the reader, mentions of pregnancy.

MINORS PLEASE STAY AWAY! Warnings for the not so holy parts (18+) - they get naked in front of each other without doing it, mentions of soft and hard manhood as well as female parts, reader is inexperienced, they take things slow at first, it’s consensual, I won’t detail what I’m about to write because I’m embarrassed so read at your own risk, no heavy/crazy stuff though I think, they do it 3 times along the story (once outside), has some other suggestive parts. X<

Author’s note - Y/L/N Y/N stands for your first and last name. Also, NEVER in my life have I written smut, first time so don’t come for me if it’s bad, please. BTW It’s been a while since I’ve written something, this is also the longest one I've ever wrote till now. If there are any mistakes please let me know!

Enjoy!  Word count - 19k

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30 August 1955

“Keep quiet!” Poor heart beating out of your chest.

Step by step and you were almost out of this hell hole. You started clenching your long skirt tighter while the other three girls were following tightly through the thick blanket of rusty leaves. Escaping through the forest was not an easy task, especially for young women and since this damned war has started, more and more people seek liberty and justice. 

But it’s not that easy to seek freedom.

Around every corner you can find soldiers waiting to attack, and once you get caught by one of them, it’s game over. Dragged in a hidden place, if not taken right there and then for their own sick pleasure, losing all hope of a good life and just succumbing to the dark and shameful path you will have to live, if they pity you enough to let you do so.  

Every person wants a chance at freedom after all, right?  And because of this you are forced to take the risk. Either make it safe over the border, through the woods and get to a small town where you can start your life all over, or fall into the hands of the devil himself.  “I’m scared…” The youngest one of us, Mai, says, tears pooling in her eyes. At only 16 years old she’s forced to take such harsh decisions in order to gain safety. 

“Calm down, if you make too much noise we will get caught, that’s what you should be truly scared about.” Yun-Mi tries to reassure her, hoping she will calm down and not get us in trouble. With cold hands you push the bushes in front of our faces and look over to the hill we have to go across. Over the sun covered land we can see the thick border of trees, that’s it! That’s the last part we have to cross. After days of hiding and countless sleepless nights of looking around, we have finally made it.

”That’s it, right Y/N? That’s the border.” Jia, the oldest one exclaims in eagerness. “Yes, after that…we are finally free.” You can say, slight uneasiness crawling into your head, almost like you could predict something bad was going to happen. The three girls smile and hug each other, happy that they finally can get away from what the war has brought. “Let’s go then, what are we waiting for?!”

Oh, only if it was that easy. Perhaps this was the hardest part of all, beside the fact that this area was the most watched over because many attempted to cross over, the emptiness of the hill made the perfect chance of being spotted.

“Let’s go by the tree line, it’s much safer.” With a plan set, You try to take the lead.

Safe to say, the place looked deserted, the sun was almost setting and the only thing you could hear was the gentle sound of the wind. It was dangerous, luring people with its quiet demeanor, thinking you are safe until you wake up on the ground with a gushing gunshot wound and one or more soldiers on top of your body. With slow and steady steps the four of you go along the tree line, skirts raised above the knee level. If the nuns at church you used to live all these years would see, they for sure would pass out. 

“It seems clear.” Jia point’s out, looking around. And so you thought, until your head turned to look through the thick tree trunks, scanning the area below. In a split second making eye contact with a guy who was down at the river, he was watching you. 

Your blood ran cold, his head turned sideways, almost confused like, wondering if his mind was playing tricks. But when you saw him take his rifle out looking through the scope to confirm that what was happening was, in fact, the horrifying truth you will be living. “Get on the ground.” You managed to mutter when you saw him signal to someone while taking better aim, a horrifying grin spread across his face. 

“What?” The others ask. Your cold hands grab Mai by the shoulder, pulling her down with you, while yelling at the other two. “Get on the ground, now!” With your head down the only thing you could hear was a deafening shot. Looking back you see Jia holding her arm, bright red liquid staining the white fabric of her dress. All four of you fall to the ground, screaming and crying, finally grasping the situation. 

You try to keep composure, to look for a place to hide, but you were like a lost bunny that just fell into their prey's trap.

Dragging Mai away, Yun-Mi helping Jia follow, even though she screamed in pain and wiggled in shock. Looking around you try to find the best spot to hide, already hearing their footsteps getting closer. Still, you had some time to try and get away. 

“There!” you point at the overgrown bushes and piles of dead leaves and branches. They for sure will think you ran away and not look through the debris. So you get close, Yun-Mi stuffs Jia’s mouth with her apron to try to stop her screaming. 

“Keep quiet! They're going to catch us!” she manages to whisper, the girl nods and swallows the fear and pain she feels knowing this is the only chance for survival. And then you see one, pretty tall and muscular, a dark green hat covering his eyes, weapon in hand looking ready to strike anytime, clearly a soldier. Close to him another wonders, looking around cautiously trying to think of your steps.

You cuddle closer, hiding away in the leaves, eyes shutting tight holding your breaths. 

The two boys go down the path, while a surprising third goes up the hill towards the borders to check. That’s it, that’s our end. Knowing you are close they will continue to search until they find you, and then, God forbid, what’s going to happen. You try to think of a strategy, head running wild with possible solutions, in your madness I barely notice Yun-Mi’s hand tagging lightly on your skirt. “Y/N…” she whispers and then gulps. And so you open your eyes to see another pair in front, big and dark eyes scanning you like a predator. You reach under your dirty apron and slowly pull out the emergency knife you carried all this way, pointing it in his direction. He chuckles and tilts his head, amused by your bold reaction.

“Leave us alone!” You say, seeing his tongue pushing the inside of his cheek, his gaze still curious, but instead of doing something the only thing does is look around for his mates. 

That’s our chance! 

In an instant you try to launch at him and hit with the knife. With one hand he catches your arm, making the knife hit the ground. 

You wince in pain and he does not stop his actions, one of his knees presses over the knife while he maneuvers you around, your face hitting the ground roughly. 

You try to resist, but he catches your other hand and straddles your back making you unable to move under his heavy weight. 

“Get away from her!” Mai tries to come closer to hit him but his hands are quick, taking his pistol and pointing in her direction. “Have any other surprises left in you, pretty girl?” He says, hands starting to wander under my apron searching for other potential weapons making you feel disgusted. 

Though in fear, Yun-Mi drags her shaking body over, begging the man on her knees, her voice soft. “Please, I beg you, let her go!” The others crying too, probably aware of what was about to happen, seeing their fate being sealed through what was happening to you. “I have no intention of doing that, but I must say, you are some brave girls. Going around all this road for a chance to escape, on your own? No other man? Just four young girls.” He laughs a little, chilling your bones.

“Must say you have a lot of balls. You know what happens to people like you, right? If not, then I can only warn…not nice things.” He rises a bit, letting go of your arms, pistol pointed at the back of your head.

“Turn around, I want to see your face.” You obey and turn around, the man still on top of you, his eyes boring along your body making you avoid his gaze.

“Hmm, not bad. How old are you? 18, 19?” Rough hand comes in contact with your face wiping the debris that got stuck before gripping at your jaw, turning your head to look at him.

“I asked you a question, therefore you should respond. Aren’t you in a bad position? Why are you making stuff harder for yourself?”. “I’ve just turned 20.” You spit through clenched teeth.  

He hums, seeming satisfied with the response. In a flash he gets off of you, putting his pistol back in his carrier, taking my knife from the grass. Quick footsteps being heard in the distance. 

“Sergeant! Have you found them?! We lost track!” An older guy approaches you. “Yes, four of them, pretty young. All girls by the way.” He says boringly. 

“Oh my! They really are pretty. What a delight.” Three other guys gather from behind, eyes praying over you, their faces plastered with sinister grins. “So, what do we do with them, sergeant?” asks another impatiently, hoping to get a green card for some potential hideous actions. The guy who found you, despite his appearance, looked to be the youngest, but also seems to be the leader. 

His body was pretty muscular, black hair almost covering his eyes, one of his hands covered in tattoos. He looked at you and caught your gaze again. You can see how his hand dips in his military jacket, searching for something before responding to his mates. 

“To be honest, we should follow the rules, right? All that are caught are enslaved, no other funny businesses." The three whine but obey his orders. 

His body crouches to your level, putting the knife under your chin making you gasp and close your eyes.”But I feel a little pleased with today's catch. To see such young women trying to fight for their lives in such a brutal world, tsk tsk, truly a pity.” He pushes the knife upwards, making you tilt your head with it. 

“Who wants to live from here?” He says delighted, devious plan coming together in his mind. 

Is he a sadist or what? Playing with your feelings for his own pleasure, enjoying seeing you suffer and making you beg for him to let you live?

The three girls start begging, even Jia, who’s body became pale from all the blood loss, raises her hands to pray for forgiveness in front of the soldiers. So you do what seems the best option, you wrap your hands around his one that holds the knife, pressing lightly, but enough feeling a warm droplet of blood drip down. “Would you look at that?” He doesn't even flinch, but you could see his muscles contracting in trying to hold the knife steady. “Let go. Do you want to die?” His face was stern, but amusement was growing behind his facade. “Yes, I would rather die than get dragged to who knows where, letting man touch and spoil me over and over like a slave. I refuse to go to that hell, so kill me.” He snatches the knife away, your head hitting his knee from lack of balance. You could hear his laugh seeing how pathetic you are in front of him. “You know…I really like you, very bold.” He gets up from the ground, his hand throws the thing he searched from under his jacket in your lap. You take it in your hands, it was a cold, shiny and silvery tag. It reads “Sergeant” on one side, with a few stars engraved showing his status, on the other side it’s only what I can figure it’s his name “Jeon Jungkook”. You look up at him, hands holding the cold chain, already knowing what it meant. He smiles cockily at you.

“Congratulations! I think you can call yourself a lucky lady, you know. If you think the place I was supposed to shove you was hell, then what can I say baby, I guess I just brought you back to heaven.” He says delightedly, before signaling his man to take your friends. 

You can hear them screaming and crying, trying desperately to free the grip these devils had on them. You bow your head down, refusing to witness the grotesque scene unfolding in front of your eyes. Jungkook comes over and with one arm he snatches you from the ground. “You need to wear it sweetheart, people will grow suspicious otherwise.” He puts the necklace over your head, sealing your faith as well. “Let’s go.” He says while dragging you with him, from now on his property to mess with. You tried to feel even in the slightest relieved, you were given a chance at a new life after all, right? 

The silver military pendant is only given as a token of proof for married women with high military men, showing their status and letting others know not to mess with them. But why did this feel different? Why you?

“I should be happier.”, that’s what you told yourself…happier that you lost your friends? Or that you are at the hand of such a man, someone you don’t know, that could use you like a puppet whenever he wants? 

You should've just taken the chance and stabbed yourself right there and then, only if you weren't such a coward. In the end, you just followed him around like a lost puppy, letting him drag you where he wanted, your body and soul now his to play with. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Shortly you two arrived at what seems to be a military camp, night already setting in. Your friends, nowhere to be found. 

The guy presumably named Jungkook took you to one of the tents, his by the looks of it. 

“We will leave tomorrow morning, I will show you where to wash up and I will bring you some clothes to wear.” He took off his jacket and boots laying back on the singular bed while you stayed close to the entrance, like a lost lamb. “Why are you doing this to me?” You ask quietly, breaking the silence, your eyes staring at the ground. Jungkook only sighed, didn't even bother to look your way. “You said you don’t want to go there, didn’t you? I fulfilled your wishes so be happy. You are not there, are you?” You didn’t know what to say or do, why did he even want to do this in the first place, it didn’t make any sense. “It does not make sense to me. Do you save all types of girls this way? If so, why not my friends too.” Now his attention was full on you, he sat up and looked at your figure. 

“Are you always such a pain? You got it better than the others, I gave you my tag, you get to marry a high rank military man, everyone is happy!” 

I scoff “I am not! I don’t understand your reasoning in wanting to marry me in the first place, I am just a low commoner that is basically a run-away! Why did you decide to save me and where did your men take my friends!” I ask authoritatively.  Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. “You really are a pain! If I knew I would’ve never taken you, maybe the crybaby would’ve been better.” He mutters the last part, but you hear it anyway. “I don’t need a reason to do this, I just wanted to. End of discussion.” He says making you look away annoyed. 

You see him get up, his body coming closer to yours. 

“Also, you better not tell a soul about this. If they ask, I just found you in a village and took you over because I fell in love with you, understood?” His presence was scary all of a sudden. Tall frame hovering over yours, dark eyes staring dangerously. 

“I saved you, so you owe me. If you say you wanted to cross the border and I took you in out of pity, or anything else that will bring trouble to me…then I will not hesitate to send you to a place worse than hell itself.”

You gulped even though your throat felt dry, he was intimidating.

“Those girls are not your friends anymore, we don’t speak of them, and if you want to live good then you follow what I say and are obedient to my words, understood?” His hand comes over to grab your cheek, not as rough as before, but with much more authority. You can only comply under his underwhelming presence. 

“Understood…” And with that he grabs your hand and a set of clothes, taking you to where the shower area is. 

… “So what do you think, prestigious?” He asks while you look around scanning the area. It was not much, but decent enough. It felt more like a communal shower than the prestigious luxury he was talking about. A simple room with a few shower heads and walls for a bit of privacy.

“You can shower wherever, the water is a little cold, but it’s still August, you should be fine.” And so you go behind the wall, slowly starting to undress. That is until you hear a whistle from behind the wall. 

“Why are you still here?!” You ask in horror only to make him laugh in response, already enjoying the situation. “I can’t let you THAT alone, what if you run away?”. “Don’t worry though, I promise I won’t peek, I’ll have all the time in the world to gush over your body.” He says suavely, making you gasp 

“I can’t do this like that! I am a woman after all, what about my chastity? Have a little decency!” You say in rage “And how can you even say such lewd words!”

“Relax, I will just stay here. I won’t just barge in like an animal. Plus isn’t it better? What if someone else decides to come and shower? You’ll be my wife soon, I will have to carve their eyes out if they see it before I do.” You were disgusted to say the least, such unscrupulous man. You sigh and with the little patience you had you decided that maybe it was for the best and just went with it. Jungkook seemed to keep his promise, every now and then your head peeking to look at what was he doing. 

He was leaning on the wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed, he seemed tired. The peace around you was nice, but part of you was also longing for some discussion. 

After all, he was the first person to talk after all this time, of course, other than your now “not to speak of” friends. 

So you decided to break that silence and try to get to know him a little. “So, I should get to know you a little, I think.” Jungkook only hummed. “Jeon Jungkook is your name, as I recall from the tag, also a sergeant?” 

“Yup, I am him in flesh and bones.” “How old are you?” “24, 25 soon.” He was pretty stiff with his answers, but at least you hoped he responded honestly to your questions. 

You tried to think of some more stuff to ask, but Jungkook beat you to it. “How about you, I responded to all your questions, but I don’t even know your name.” “My name is Y/L/N Y/N” you tell him. “Pretty name.” He adds.

“So…Y/N, where are you from and why did you decide on doing these things?” You close the water and grab the towel Jungkook prepared. 

Sitting deep in thoughts while drying your hair, the bathroom became quiet.

 “It’s fine if you don’t want to say, I was just curious.” You can hear him taking a big breath of air before his steps start taking towards the door, he was leaving. “From a small village in the south.” You bluntly say, making the man stop in his tracks, his back facing you.

“I don’t have a family if you’re wondering, I grew up in the church. I wanted a better life since there was only misery there, that’s why I left.” 

You see the boy turn around, his eyes scanning your body, only wrapped in the towel, small droplets of water falling from your hair to the ground.

“It’s not polite to look at a girl like this, I didn’t wear my clothes yet so please just turn back around.” Embarrassment and shyness take over when you feel his deep stare, never being watched as exposed as now. 

He complies however, turning his body around, staying in front of the door, almost looking like he’s guarding it. 

“I see, so you are a church girl.” He snickers “I figured since I’ve seen you for the first time, the clothes gave it away pretty well, not to mention you look scared every time I get an inch closer.” “Is that a bad thing?” You ask. 

“Nope. Just so you know, I’m not exactly into practicing stuff like this, does not match my personality.” He says before exiting. Letting you put on some clothes, most probably his.

“How did you become a sergeant at such young age?” You cautiously ask him while going back to the tent. “My dad is the general of the east side of the army, I worked hard to match his steps, but in the end I got stuck as a sergeant and was given my pluton.” 

The man opened the tent to let you enter, him following right after. 

“How are you not married yet? Especially having such a function and family, aren’t girls throwing themselves at you at any given chance?” Your bold question takes him by surprise.

“You became even bolder I see, already asking me personal stuff? Are you worried I have a wife and kids at home?” He asks cockily, making you look back at him with wide eyes.

Sure you have your doubts, but your thoughts were still pure, asking just to get to know him better. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think my question was intrusive. I wasn’t under any means doubting you!” I rush to say, my cheeks heating up making him chuckle again. 

“Don’t be so stiff, sugar, I was just playing around. Plus, you have the tag, don’t you, so no other women are involved.” He closes the tent behind him, inside only the small oil lamp give in some light.

Without care he starts pulling at his t-shirt, leaving his upper body exposed in your sight.  

Your eyes go wide, cheeks brighter than they were already, your hands fly up to cover up your vision. “Oh my lord! Have some decency, I am also here!” 

In the end you close your eyes and turn your back to him. However, when you can feel his muscular chest stick to your back you stiffen up. 

He leans down, his breath gently caressing your neck. “I wonder what are you going to do after we get married? Hide around and let me play catch with you, little one?” You gulp down, pressing your legs to the nightstand in front of you, his hands come from behind resting on the wooden surface, your face pure red now.

“You know…you’ll have duties to take care of as a wife, I am a man after all, I have my needs.” His lips brush ever so slightly to the side of your neck, leaving a lingering feeling on your soft skin. You never felt like this before.

“Jungkook…please” You breathlessly say while trying to get away from his hot embrace. But he only chuckles once again getting away from you. 

You can’t turn around, eyes fixed on the back of your hands while you can hear him taking his shirt on again and searching for a new set to wear. “I’ll go wash up too, go to sleep and don’t think of running away. This is my camp, I’ll find you.” 

And so he leaves. With shaky legs you lay on his bed. It smelled manly, a little bit like the forest, but it also had a sweet scent to it. Soon you get engulfed by the peace and quiet around, finally falling asleep in the comfort of his scent. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you woke up in the morning, Jungkook wasn't here. You can’t recall him entering the tent after he left for the shower nor getting close to you again. But soon enough his footsteps enter the confined space making you sit up. 

“Slept well?” He asked while starting to gather his stuff, putting everything into a big wood box. You just stared at him blankly trying to process everything happening. 

“I asked if you slept well, sugar.” That damned nickname again. “Yeah, I guess you could say so, better than caves and leaf beds.” He hums, pleased. “Then we should get going, people are waiting for us back in the city.” He throws next to you what seems to be your clothes, now washed and dried overnight.

You go out after you’re done and with Jungkook’s help you step for the first time in a car. 

You can see some men get in the front seats while others help boarding up all types of boxes and gear.

“Do we leave for good?” I ask looking outside the window “Do you want to live in the forest?” He says mockingly. “When I said you were lucky it wasn’t a joke, today we are supposed to swap places with another pluton, if you were to cross today, your fate wouldn’t be as lucky.” 

You didn’t know what to say after that, part of you wanted to let Jungkook know you are at least a little thankful for his acts, but your mind drifts to the thoughts of Mai, Yun-Mi and Jia. You hope they are safe.

Jungkook forbade you to talk about them, telling you that his man won’t dare to stand in front of him, let alone say something about what happened. And safe to say he ensured that if you were smart enough you would live a peaceful and decent life by his side, outside of ruins and misery. … Entering the city you were slightly mesmerized, it was not of luxury, but at least it wasn’t run down or bombarded like the place you came from. 

You stopped after a long ride in front of a pretty big house, with a beautiful front garden and even a fountain and a swing on the side. 

“We are here” Jungkook said, getting out of the car and helping you out, once again, showing a warmer side to you. “What is this place?” You asked, looking around, trying to take in every detail. 

“It’s my family’s house, let’s get inside.” But before you could take on, a lady’s screams could be heard.

“Jungkook, my days, you’re back!” The lady, looking young as well, with long and black hair flowing down her shoulders, beautiful clothes and even well done make-up jumped in his arms, hugging him tight, her lips coming in contact with his cheek.

“Hey! Long time no see!” Jungkook hugged back, bright smile on his face, and for the first time you felt weird, almost…small like. 

Yes, you only knew him for a day, but the fact that he wants to marry you out of the blue yet he’s having women jump him right when he arrives home makes you feel just a little strange, like you didn’t fit in the picture. “I thought you weren't coming back this month at how long it took! Did you eat well? You seem a little thinner than last time I saw you.” The woman lets go of him with one arm, starting to feel around his biceps for any muscle loss. Jungkook smiles even more, his head bowing a little, letting a giggle out. “I’m fine, Yuna, just tough business getting the best of me.” The girl named Yuna seems to finally notice your awkward presence, she tilts her head, eyes locking into yours, her smile disappearing quickly. “Who is she?” 

Finally the two part ways and Jungkook remembers that he also brought you along. “A shit, yes, You almost forgot.” He clears his throat scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

Coming closer he is taking your hand in his. “Yuna, this is Y/N.” 

His hand brushes over your shoulder coming in contact with the metal chain that rests on the base of your neck, pulling from under your ragged clothes his military tag. 

Yuna’s eyes widen when she sees you wearing his necklace, her body stiffening. You can’t help but feel like an intruder under her burning gaze. She tries to put on a smile, forced by any means. “So, you’re getting married…” That’s the only thing that managed to come out of her mouth. Jungkook smiles at you and says breathlessly “Yeah.” 

What a play pretend…

“That’s…wonderful news! I kept wondering when this was going to happen, being away from me and home all the time, I knew you would find someone to take your heart. I am so happy for you two!” Tears almost started forming in her eyes, but probably you were the only one to notice since Jungkook only thanked her lightly and started going towards the house, with your hand in his.

… “Don’t worry about meeting my father, he might seem stern, but he’s not a bad guy.” He instructs you 

“Yes.” “And don’t think he won’t like you because you are not rich or something, I am pretty sure he will be happy to know I found someone to love, even though it’s just a facade for us.” He whispers the last part.

“Yes, sure.” You were out of it, mind going blank now that you were here. He gave a small squish to your hand trying to knock some courage into you and knocked on the door, entering with you behind. “General!” He saluted, letting go of your hand, and waited for what seemed an order. “It’s fine, son, you are dismissed for today!” He got up from the chair and came over to pat him on the back. 

“I heard you did very well at the border, less people managed to escape this month, good job.” He smiled warmly. 

“Thank you, father.” They engage in some conversation that you don’t really grasp.

Instead, you stare at the ground hearing how he is so praised for doing such “horrible” things. 

Yes, it was his job after all, you knew it already. But it still felt painful thinking of all the other people that didn’t manage to escape. They exchanged some more words before his father’s eyes laid on you, same questions addressed, same acts put up. 

You only smiled at him, being as polite as possible while staying in front of such a big figure in the community. “You’re getting married!” He exclaimed with a big smile on his face when Jungkook points at the dangling tag you wear. 

“Oh thank the lord! It was about time, Jungkook!” 

Both of you were pretty embarrassed to say the least, his dad was already making plans on when the wedding should take place, where you two should stay and how many grandchildren he wanted, but to your relief Jungkook cut him short.

“Next week father, no fancy stuff, no big parties, I just want to get it done fast.” And so his smile witheres. 

“But son, this is your wedding! You will only have one, it can’t just be like this, you are a general’s son and also a highly respected member of the community!” His father argued, definitely not pleased by his son’s roughness in handling such a “big” event.

“I don’t care, I just want it done fast, you know I am not the man to celebrate such stuff. I just want to focus on future work and…my wife.” His eyes met yours, they looked brighter at you, reassuring even, making you wonder why is he so good at pretending. 

“But how about her, Y/N is this what you also want?” Your future “husband” looked a little stressed when you were addressed with such questions, not knowing whether you will comply with his act or not.

Smiling bright, you chuckle before responding. “Yes, sir, if this is what my husband wants I will comply, I trust his decisions.” You could finally see his features softening a little, relieved and happy with your answer. 

“Then…it’s set. It might not be what I dreamed of for you, but if you are fine like this then I will ask the priest to officiate the ceremony next week and move you into an apartment downtown.”

He smiled at us one last time, exchanging a few more words with his son and making the arrangements for our future before letting some maids show me around. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

7 September 1955

The days have gone by quicker ever since you got into the city. You had a nice room where you stayed alone since Jungkook’s father said it’s immoral for the both of you to share the bed before being properly wed. The food was plenty and also the facilities were high quality, and the people around seemed decently kind.

The only downside, if you could call it like this, is you haven’t seen Jungkook as often since he’s apparently very busy all the time.

However, you had your chance at speaking with some of the people around his house, collecting crumbs about him and what he truly is like. 

The place was nice, and soon you started to feel much more at peace with the future life you were going to live, finding out that despite his appearance and inappropriate runny mouth, he was a well raised man. Right now you are standing in front of a mirror, dressed in a simplish white gown, hair and make-up perfectly done and a bouquet of white flowers in your hand. This was your big day, and looking back on what happened not long ago made you realize how much you've already changed.

After today you will not be a little kid anymore, you won’t need to run away or plan a better future. Still, everything is making you unsure, giving yourself away like this, for a man you barely knew made you just a little sad. “Are you ready? Oh my, how pretty you look!” In the time you spent at Jungkook’s house you managed to get along with an older lady, Miss Min, someone that knew him ever since he was a young child. 

You talked a little and bonded over tea and biscuits in the afternoon. She was the only one that really acknowledged your presence since Yuna only gave you stingy glares and huffed when you asked her little things, clearly not being fond of you, and the others only greeted and shied away knowing you will be a sergeant’s wife. “I think I am.” You said, going over the bottom of the dress once again, making sure there are no wrinkles and then taking a deep breath. Miss Min accompanied you to the church's door, where Jungkook’s father was waiting. Since you didn’t have any parental figure next to you, he took it upon himself to lead you to the altar. Inside the place was beautiful, there was some music playing in the background, and all of the people Jungkook knew were here, everyone was either a friend or relative to him. 

His father led you to him and you took his hand into yours. Looking around once again you felt alone. His smile was reassuring in a way, trying to calm your nerves down, but you just felt empty. The ceremony went over almost too fast, the priest said what he was supposed to say until now, the moment everyone was waiting for. “Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take Y/L/N Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?” 

“Yes!” 

And then he repeats his sentence, your eyes looking into Jungkook’s. Silence took over the place waiting for your response.

What should you do next? Say yes? If this was the answer, it felt wrong. 

You could feel a squish of your hands bring you back to where you are, the reality you are supposed to live, his eyes looking sternly while waiting for your answer letting you know that blowing your cover up now was not a good idea. “Yes.” And yes you say, people cheer, but there is no smile on your face. 

In other words, you feel like crying. 

Why were you doing this? Why are you marrying this man? The ceremony continues, vows are exchanged, vows that are fake, rings are exchanged, rings that just trap you into this unreal story, tied to a man you barely met.  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”  And now a kiss. It was supposed to be the one you love to do this with you, to take these steps with you, but it’s not and so you close your eyes, a warm and soft pair of lips meet yours for the first time in your life, the saltiness of your tears taking away from how bitter everything feels. Everyone congratulates you, they are happy, and you, once again put on your facade and tell yourself to be grateful for what you have. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time flies and after the wedding you are in front of your new apartment, smiling and saying goodbye. 

And then you find yourself inside the living room and soon enough in the room you are supposed to share, looking dumbfounded at your now to call husband. “Take them off.” He demands, arms crossed. 

No way you’re doing this…like this! “Can’t you hear me? Take your clothes off, I want to see you.” 

Your face burns red, arms wrapped around yourself, gripping the soft fabric tighter around you. Your ears refuse to acknowledge his words.

“If you don’t then I will.” The man takes a step further and you run towards what is supposed to be the bathroom door…locked. 

“So you really want to play like this, I thought you would be more understanding.” Jungkook comes over,  his hands drag you over to the bed sitting on the edge with you in front of him.  “Take your clothes off.” Burning gaze almost rips the dress itself. There is no escape from this so you start peeling at your clothes under his stare.

First is the vail that falls from your head, next he helps you with the zipper and then there you are, all naked in front of him, hands trying to hide what’s left of your dignity. He doesn't seem satisfied however, arms still crossed, eyes still burning on your body. 

“Are you a virgin?” You look up to him in shock, eyes wide, blood rushing to your already red cheeks. 

Was this a way to shame you? Asking these types of vulgar questions, making you do such things in front of him. “Is this your way to humiliate me?” You ask, voice small. “Nope, not at all.” You feel tears burning into the corner of your eyes, arms bending even more trying to make you disappear. 

“Is this embarrassing to you?” He asks curiously. 

“Yes…” you say in a whisper, hoping to ease some of the shame he’s making you feel. 

The man gets up, still fully clothed, big hands push you gently on the bed. 

You close your eyes, expecting something to happen, but you only feel a cold piece of material being thrown over you, a blanket. 

You are looking back at him confused, wondering if he’s just playing with you or making fun of you, but when you see him take off his clothes as well, you start to panic a little, not knowing where to look. “There you go, are you feeling better now that we both are naked?” You can’t look at him, body burning up under the covers. If you could dig a hole and crawl into it you would do so. 

Once again you expect him to do something, but he goes out of the room leaving you naked on the bed. Maybe he’s crazy, you think, but when you see him return with a knife you get worried. “What are you doing with that?” Gulping you asked. “Well it’s clear you have no idea of what we are supposed to do, and, to be honest, you don’t even seem fond of having sex with me.” You gasp at the boldness of his words. “See, you can’t even bear to hear the word itself!” “Meanwhile, just the thought of doing it LIKE this, makes me uncomfortable. It can’t even get up, see?” And you look at his member then away once again, making Jungkook laugh. 

“How about the knife, what are you doing with it?” Your mind is still filled with worry.

“You see, everyone expects us to consummate the marriage, Nana Min will come tomorrow to clean up. But since we can’t right now, I need to make it believable. I will just snip my finger a little, they won’t know where the blood came from anyways.” You try to calm down, at least he’s not forcing you into stuff, it’s just that, it’s weird. Doing so much for something so fake, he’s really on the long run. With a small wince he cuts himself a little on his palm, letting a few drops of blood to stain the covers. “Done.” The boy wipes his hand with a spare cloth until the blood stops and then crawls into the bed, laying on his back. “Let’s just go to sleep.” 

You stay seated at the edge of the bed, covers still fully on you so Jungkook takes this as a sign to try and comfort you, finally feeling a little bad about the way he acted towards you. 

Gently, pulling you back, until you lay flat against the bed, he unwraps the cocoon you created around you and pulls the sheet over both of you, leaving a little space in the middle so your naked bodies don’t touch. “You’re worried?” He asks. “I am.” You respond, turning your back to him.

“We can talk if you want too, don’t be so closed around me, aren’t I your husband?” “Fake husband, Jungkook, everything about this is fake.” Jungkook hums. 

“Yes, but…it doesn't mean we can’t work it better.” He proposes. “What even is the purpose? You don’t love me and I don’t love you.” You say revolted. "Y/N. How can I explain this to you?” He sighs. 

“I know we don’t know each other, and this is a play pretend right now, but we can work it out, we just need some time?” “Time for what?” You sound defeated, and so you feel, especially everytime you’re standing in front of this man, if you can’t read him, how can you even get close to him later on?  

“For the fact that I’m not as unfond of you as you think.” He blurts out taking you by surprise. “What?” You turn to face him, letting him see your tears, his hand coming to your cheek to wipe them away. “Come on, do you really think I would go this far for someone I want nothing to do with? Getting married, saving you and what not? I can’t say I love you right now, I just met you. But…you seem nice and I won’t complain if I get to spend my time with you.” You scoff shoving his hands away.

“So you only saved me because…I seem nice?” You prop on your elbow and look at him. “Yeah, and fierce, and determined, not someone who will beg for her life like all the others do, you seem like a strong woman who actually wants to do something in her life.” He also props himself on his elbow, looking at you with soft eyes. “I could’ve just sent you there with the others, but something in me just decided to keep you, that’s why we are here.” A fresh new wave of tears threaten to fall from your eyes “So you want to tell me, that you only got me to this point because I was appealing to you, like…an easy catch?” You scoff once again. “Yes, shitty reason, but these are my valid feelings, and I’m sorry if they hurt you.” You could feel the anger bubbling in your veins and it wasn’t even for Jungkook. He thought you were just a nice piece of meat he could have, and he was right. You just fell into his den and now he can just devour you whenever he feels like, only because you were that dumb.

You offered yourself to him without a fight since that seemed to be the most profitable option for you back then. 

“You think I’m a jerk right?” Oh and so much more, but now this is the jerk you are stuck with.

“Yes, I do, a big one, thinking of me as just an object you could have.” “You’ll learn to love me one day. I don’t plan on getting away from you.” The sincerity his eyes hold just confirmed everything you needed to know and “Never.” was your answer, deep inside knowing that this was not how things will be. Those were the last words spoken that night, before a sigh left his lips, probably tired and unsure himself of all of this.

You turned around, body seated as far as possible from him, emotions running wild, letting only time say how this will unfold. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

22 December 1955

And time truly heals, at first it felt horrible, long days spent inside these walls, your husband being away, not like it mattered that much since you two were not making it easier for each other, being at each other's throats almost everyday. 

It’s been a month since you met, and then it’s been two, then three, and things started to calm down. 

And now you stay in front of your oven, almost end of December, eyes sparkling while looking at how beautifully the snowflakes fall from the sky before getting lost in the darkness of the night. 

The smell of baked cookies fills the apartment, maybe not as big as his father’s, but big enough for you two. 

Jungkook is not home yet, or so you think, but when you feel two strong arms wrapping around you from behind you can’t help but get startled. “Did I scare you bun?” His voice was gentle, his cold embracing slowly becoming filled with your warmth. Things did get better, and he was right. 

It took a while for him to pull at your heart strings, but once he started it was way too hard to stop. 

First, it was the nicknames, then he started to give you some of the space you needed to explore what you like, coming across your knitting hobby. 

He made sure you felt spoiled, always bringing back stuff so you could cook and bake for him since you were fond of homemade food, and he became fond of your cooking. 

He became more gentle and opened up about a lot of stuff to you, and slowly so did you. It was coming along nicely, you were both learning how to love each other. “What are you making?” He asked while sniffing the air. “Just some basic cookies, Christmas is right around the corner and I need to prepare. You said we are going to visit your father and I thought we could also bring some goods to him.”

He nozzles his nose on the side of your neck, a new stuff he likes to do to bring some butterflies in your stomach. “Did Nana Min come around today?” He asks while leaving a kiss on your cheek. “Yes, she did.” 

Ever since the first night here, lady Min made sure you two had great comfort, being his maid for so long already made things easier, and you don’t want to admit it but her presence did make you two get closer faster. “You smell nice.” His hands leave your waist and start getting dangerously low for your liking. Even though you two have been married for quite some time, you were still uneasy when Jungkook initiated things further than kissing, that also being a step taken very hard in your relationship.

He didn’t want to pressure you either, into doing something you possibly wouldn’t enjoy, but as he said once, he was a man and his needs started growing a little beyond the line, especially since you two started getting way closer. Stuff like intimacy was discussed before, he knew you didn’t have experience and you found out he lingered around sometimes, from having a few flings here and there to actually going to the more “exclusive” places of your times where you can pay for such services.

You were a little horrified to find about this, but he assured it was long in the past, just when his youth was kicking in, and it’s been years since he stopped going there. However, he did say he’s never gone with a virgin, so the doubts were still there, both of you felt them.

Your body rigids when his hands slips under your blouse. “Jungkook.” You try to warn him, but his mouth starts leaving small kisses to the side of your neck. 

“Relax baby.” And you try, until one of his hands slips under your bra, cupping your right breast. You whimper a little, eyes closing and only then Jungkook knows he’s gotten you right where he wanted once again. “Let’s go upstairs.” He stops the oven, leaving the cookies half baked, slowly guiding you to the bedroom. Hungry lips come in contact with yours even before entering the room, and you could feel that everything about this is different, but you don’t stop.

You learned now that he will never hurt you or go beyond something you don’t like, you just need to tell him and he’ll stop. “Can I take this off?” He asked since your bra straps were already going down your arms under your blouse. Jungkook’s hands were already toying with your breasts, yet he still was sweet enough to ask if he could remove your upper wear. 

“Yeah, please do so.” Your small voice was not uncertain yet, truth to be told, you’ve gone a few times through him groping and kissing on your body, more or less naked, but he never dared to touch beyond that, and you always made sure to stop him out of your own fears. With careful hands Jungkook takes off your blouse, unclasps your bra and lays you down on the bed, head right between the pillows. His lips trail down from your neck to your chest, stopping right above your breast before taking your nipple right on. He manages to rip a louder moan out of you, your back arching at the feeling making him grin. His hands help you out of your skirt, now only in your pair of panties in front of him, and when one of them starts to play with your underwear that’s when you let all of your insecurities take the better of you.

“Jungkook, stop.” You rise from the bed and try to avoid his gaze, you know he’s annoyed with your behavior, always stopping him before things become more serious, but he also realizes how scary this is for you. 

Your hands grip the sheets, eyes getting teary in frustration, a warm hand cups your face. “Look at me, Y/N.” Head turning slowly, soft dark brown eyes bore into yours. “We are never getting past this if you don’t trust me.” He says a little worried. “But I do trust you…I just…don’t trust me.” You sniffle and wipe the tear that just fell from your eye. The man in front of you giggles, he pulls his uniform off, leaving him only in his boxers and he rests his head on your shoulder leaving feathery kisses. “I told you I don’t care, good or bad I want you.”

You also rest your head on his shoulder, more tears wetting his skin in annoyment with yourself. “Will you be gentle with me?” He hums, wrapping his arms around your body, dragging you on his lap, letting you feel how hard he is for you. “I will go easy, and if you feel really bad just tell me to stop.” He lays you back eyes looking for reassurance before sliding your last piece of clothing off your body, and you give him the green after so long. Jungkook feels excitement bubbling inside him and he tries not to let his feelings get the best of him at this moment. 

“You look so pretty.” His palms start rubbing your legs up and down before parting them to look right where he wanted. One of your hands makes their way down quickly, but before you can hide away he takes your hand away making you whine. 

“Don’t look, please!” You say, embarrassment running through your veins “Then what am I supposed to do? I want to see it.” His comments always bold, making you bright red for him. “I have to touch you a little, you won’t be able to take it otherwise.” You bite your lips at his remark, already too embarrassed to say anything. You saw him, not once after that night, sometimes soft, sometimes hard, he was a lot. 

It worried you a little, however, his touch on your private parts made even the clearest part of your mind cloud. He touched lightly, playing with the bundle of nerves first, making you feel stuff you’ve never felt before, and then you felt it, one of his fingers, thick and slightly rough to the feeling, entering you. “Oh my God!” Your whole body contracted. It felt weird, not exactly bad, but weird, a new feeling. 

“Shhh, relax for me.” He made sure to kiss and caress you in such a way you wouldn’t feel the second going in just after. And slowly, you whimpered and squirmed around as he was pumping them in and out. 

“I don’t think I like this.” You say, a strange new feeling already developing inside of you. “You’re just close, don’t worry, you will feel better in a second.” He picked up his pace, thumb rubbing over your clit every time he pushed his fingers into you. “This is scary, please.” 

His lips reassure you a little when they make contact with your temple. “It’s going to be better, let it out, my soul.” And you overspill, all the emotions that bottled up spill right in that moment, a wave of pleasure washes over you making you almost scream. It takes you a minute to get down from the high you just had, your husband whispering how good you did for him while his hands leave your fluttering count. You close your eyes for a little until you hear some rustling around you. Jungkook is getting out of the bed, boxers still on hard cock threatening to escape out of them. 

“Where are you going?” You ask confused, awaken fast from the mind blowing pleasure you just felt. “I’ll run you a bath, I’ll be right back.” You rush to get up, hand managing to catch his.

“But why? Are we finished yet?” He smiles gently at you and pats your head. “You are a little overwhelmed right now, you just had your first ever orgasm, my love. Don't worry about me, if we go further it might be too much for you.” 

He tries to soften your grip and go but you hold even tighter. “No!” You jump out of the bed with wobbly legs, dragging him towards the bed and making him sit down on the edge. “You’re just working me up for nothing? I’ve been waiting for this and now that I have the courage you stop? What kind of man ar…” You try to revolt and anger him a little. And you also obtain what you want, he turns you around manhandling you, face in the sheets, his hard on pressing on your bum making you gasp. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, I won’t be able to stop if we continue.” 

You turn your head to the left looking up at him, eyes clouded. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.” He growls a little, warning you. “This attitude you have! Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you in any way, it will just make this experience bad for you.” 

He lets go and you turn around. “Please, I want this.” You beg him to please your wishes making him sigh once again, head dropping, finally giving in to your desires. “Just…hit me if it hurts or I don’t stop.” He crawls back in bed, sitting once again on top of you, his hand slip his boxers off, knocking the breath out of your lungs when you see him stand so tall in front of you, hand gripping his hot cock, his eyes clouded by his own desires.

“Spread nicely for me, love.” And you do so, much more confidently this time, excited even. Jungkook looks down at you, seeing how small you look under him, a little unsure if he really wants to continue, but you seem so excited to finally let things happen, so he caves in. Pumping himself a few times he rubs up and down to collect some of your left over wetness, his hand guiding the tip at your entrance. “It will hurt .” He warns. “It’s fine, I trust you, Jungkook.” You whisper, making his heart skip a beat knowing that you trust him so much. He bites his lip and with a small nudge he pushes lightly past the ring of your entrance looking over for any reaction, anything and he will pull out instantly.

You seem quiet and calm so he gathers some more courage to push just a little further, just until his head is in, and then he looks over to you seeing the signs already, tears pulling in your eyes and fists lightly clumping his pillow. 

“I’ll stop.” “No!” You say once again, more determined to try new stuff with the man you are finally in love with. ‘But you are in pain, love.” He coos softly. “Just do it please, it’s not that bad.” Jungkook pushes further and further until he is almost fully in, his face comes closer to yours just to kiss your lips and face and soothe the pain away, letting you adjust to the new feeling, giving him a nudge when you feel ready.

“I’ll move now, tell me if it’s too much.” And he slowly pulls out, a few droplets of blood staining the sheets. You moan harshly when he pushes in again, this time fitting all of himself inside you. 

And he holds you through the pain until you start to claw at his back, more sounds coming out of the both of you. “It’s starting to feel good.” You breathlessly say while the man above you seems to have his mind almost out of this world. It doesn't take much for the feeling to start appearing once again, warm bubbles forming in your tummy. “I’m close.” You say calmly, knowing what’s about to happen. “Me too, baby.” Your husband whispers breathlessly.  

Jungkook’s starts being a little rough making you whine while your walls contract at the sudden peace. “It’s just me baby, relax for me.” He says making you melt in his embrace. 

In a second the bubbles burst making you arch your back, scratching Jungkook’s with your nails in the process. And soon you feel it, the sloppy pace, the trembling and the even warmer feeling within your walls. Maybe you were inexperienced, but you knew what this meant. “Jungkook, did you…” Both of you were trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry…I came inside…I told you I can’t stop.” The boy was ashamed, not being careful could lead to greater consequences, and he, for sure, did not want to knock you up on the first night you shared your love. 

Slowly he pulls out, looking at the mess he’s made, saying sorry once again. “If I get pregnant, you’re in big trouble, mister.” You laugh a little pulling him down for a kiss. 

“But until then let’s wash you up, you must be tired.” He says picking you up and carrying you in the bathroom. Life just gets sweeter and sweeter from a point, that’s what everyone says. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4 March 1956 Thankfully you didn’t manage to get pregnant from your first try, or second, or third, and the many more that followed after. At a point you even wondered if it was possible for you to carry. But your husband was not worried, he always said “When’s the time, it will happen.” 

To be honest, you think he was just grateful he didn’t have to worry about protection. You were at Jungkook’s family house right now. He was on his border shift and whenever that would happen, you would stay over with his father and the others. 

Winter was finally over, flowers started to bloom again and the weather was pretty warm for the beginning of spring. 

You were waiting patiently, it was time for your husband to return and everyone waited eagerly ever since they heard this month, due to their skilled squad, nobody managed to pass the border. 

You got used to it by now, old events long forgotten, your mind and soul accepting Jungkook’s work more and more, after all it was also part of him. Playing with the chain of your silver necklace, rocking on the swing in the front garden, looking outside through the thick fence at the various people passing by. Humming gently while letting the breeze run through your locks, a surprised voice calling your name. “Y/N?” You look up, eyes widening in surprise, happiness washing over you at the sight of Yun-Mi. She looked ravaged, her clothes were pretty dirty and she had some visible bruises on her, not to mention the prominent belly she was carrying. You wanted to say hi, to ask her how she’s doing, what happened all this time, worried about how did she end up in this state, but before your body to make a move Jungkook’s words came up in your mind “Those girls are not your friends anymore, we don’t speak of them, and if you want to live good then you follow what I say and be obedient, understood?”So you stop, you can’t do this. You avert her gaze and slowly get off the swing, turning your back to her, feet rushing to get inside. You hear her scream, her hands open the gate running after you. “You can’t do this to me! Why are you pretending you don’t know me?!” “I don’t know you! Please leave, this is private property!” You look back, she’s struggling with all that’s going on, but you don’t stop. In front of the door Yuna appears out due to all the noise and screams. You look at her expecting to call some guards, or do something about the situation but she just sits there, a small grin plastering her face in satisfaction. Within seconds, you fall to the ground, your feet tripping over a stone. Yun-Mi’s body turns you around, getting her form on top of you, one of her hands gripping your hair while the other hits the arms that tries to cover your face. “Get off me!” You scream in pain. “How can you do this! Filthy bitch! You don’t know me anymore? You don’t want to know what I went through while you lived a good life?!” And she hits even harder, tears coming out, running on your face. You close your eyes expecting more, but the only thing you can hear is her yelping. With trembling hands you try to arrange your hair. Looking up, your eyes only see the very furious figure of your husband, his hands gripping Yun-Mi’s hands above her head. 

“How can this happen in my yard, on my property!” His soldiers drag Yun-Mi’s body out of the garden while she’s pulling up a rage fit, screaming insults. Jungkook doesn't look at you first, his eyes lay on the girl in front of his house, who’s now avoiding his gaze, his father coming out from behind her shock plastered on his face. 

“What is happening here?” He rushes over to see my state. Jungkook grits his teeth, heavy and fast steps taken towards Yuna, both me and his father turn around to watch him. His hand came in contact with her arm, pulling her towards him. “Why did you let this happen?” Yuna bows her head, avoiding his glance. “Yuna, I’m asking one more time. Why did you let this woman hurt my wife?”  She looks at him through her lashes, biting her lips, spitting venomous words between her teeth. “She deserves it for stealing you away from me.” Slap Her face turns to the side, eyes widening and tears gathering in them. The man shakily exhales, his hand running through his hair in anger. 

“If you ever let my wife get hurt and do nothing about it, I will throw you out on the streets. Remember who brought you here and be grateful, not a greedy bitch who wants a married man’s attention.” With a low, dark tone he tells her. He’s finally coming closer to you, his father scolds him for hitting a woman, but he doesn’t seem to care. He tries to be gentle with you, but you can see he's still full of rage. “Are you okay, my soul?” You shake the dust of your dress, brushing your hair back, collecting the few strands that fall. “Yeah, I’m fine, a bit scuffed, that’s all.” He sighs, helping you get up from the ground. “Let’s get you inside and clean your wounds, I have something to discuss with my father.” He takes your hand in his and helps you inside the house, passing by Yuna whose body was on the ground, shaking from all the crying. Lady Min took care of you while Jungkook and his father went into his office to discuss. It didn’t take long to hear the shouting and arguing, at a point even some glass smashing to the ground.

“Oh my, what is happening in there? Today is not a good day.” She bandages you with worry and by the time she is done your husband storms more enraged out of his father’s office. “Come on Y/N, we’re leaving.” Using your name surely startled you, after months of being used to praises, your name felt strange coming out of his mouth. “You are not doing as you please, Jungkook! This is not your decision to take!” His father screams while going after him. “You can’t make me stay, this is my life! I’m 25 for fuck’s sake! I am allowed to make my own decisions!” And with that his hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the house, and pushing you into the backseat of his car. 

His dad still screaming after his son, but he wouldn’t turn back. He buckles up into the driver’s seat and drives you home. … “Pack up, tonight I’m coming for you.” He said sternly after you two entered the house. “Jungkook, what’s happening? Where are we going? Why were you fighting with your father?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed. “Answer me, please.”  You could see him clench his fists. “Pack up I said! And don’t ask stupid questions!” He growls violently back at you. Startled by his anger, you bow your head and nod, a little scared by his actions. What was happening to him all of a sudden?  You wanted to have answers, to not be in the shadows, clearly he didn’t want you to know. But you could only wonder, did something bad happen? Your husband sighs and comes closer to you, pulling you into his embrace, finally trying to calm his nerves down. “I’m sorry, love, didn’t mean to scream at you. Just pack up and I’ll explain to you on the way.” He kisses your temple going out of the door and right back at the car, leaving you alone in the cold and empty house.

… Packing up was definitely a challenge for you since there were many things you had now and don’t know if you need, but after a few hours you think you finally have everything essential down. 

The sky is dark now, a car stops in front of your door, and one of Jungkook’s soldiers boards your items in the trunk. In the backseat, your husband reads over some documents, his eyes soften when he sees you enter, he is way calmer now. “Hey.” His hand comes in contact with your hair, brushing gently through it. “Hey” You respond with a small smile, hands fidgety. “I know you are confused, but don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to you.” And he does. He told you how some of his soldiers died in a border attack, and how he was tired of doing this work, always seeing his mates pass away. He put up a petition to move departments and work in city patrolling and other governmental work instead, and it got approved. 

Not by his father though, who taught he doesn't have to move away in another city and work with the government, that sparked the argument between the two. He insisted on his son staying close to home since the war was getting rougher with many more enemy squads were coming closer to habitable places, the borders being attacked more often. 

But Jungkook made his decision, he was a 25 years old man after all, he needed to think about his whereabouts more and also take into consideration all ways to keep you safe. 

And now there were you going, another city, another house, another life to live. Looking into the night, part of you was conflicted. You knew your husband only wanted the best for you and himself, but leaving behind all that he knew, friends and family, was this really a good decision?  Your thoughts were all over the place with everything that happened too. I guess you could say your husband noticed your worries since he took you into his embrace, cuddling you close to the heart that was now beating only for you, your eyes slowly closing while listening to it, letting go of your worries for tomorrow.

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21 July 1956 

Months have gone by fast in the new city. At first, accommodation was hard. You knew no one and making friends was not an option when Jungkook, a highly seen sergeant now working with the government, was your husband. 

The place was poorer than the one you lived in before, that’s why people avoided you, being commoners made them afraid to engage so they don’t end up in prison or enslavement. In this case you remained alone, now already used to the feeling. However, your husband was more often at home since his duties didn’t make him take so much time apart, mostly working in the place you are settled. This also makes it easier for you to get even more closer to each other, almost a year passed since your meeting. Dates occurring more often, just like right now.  The last few days it rained quite a bit, but now the weather is starting to warm up again, making it perfect for spending your time out. And after spending so much boring time in your house, you filled a little basket with goods, took a nice blanket and urged your husband to get out for your little picnic, it was his day off after all, he should enjoy it. “Come on, Jungkook! Be a little faster!” You found yourself on a little hill right outside the city, it was pretty similar to the one you had back home, but with a better view and not as dangerous. You let your basket down, hands spreading the blanket nicely between the taller grass and the pretty summer wildflowers. Your husband chuckles at your eagerness, his back laying on the blanket while watching you rummage through the goods. “I hope I didn’t forget anything at home.” His hands pat your back urging you to lay down next to him. “We will enjoy what you brought, honey. Just sit and enjoy for now.” You sigh and shoot him a glance, but quickly conform and lay next to him staring at the clouds in the sky. “There are many clouds today, I hope it won’t rain.” Jungkook hums next to you, closing his eyes, enjoying the summer breeze. “I want to do it.”  You sit up so fast, clearly taken aback by his words, making him grin. Sure, you learned the hard way that he is the type of man who gets what he wants when he wants it, but right now? “Are you serious? This is supposed to be a nice evening that we both enjoy!” You nag at him. “And we will both enjoy it, I promise.” His arms wrap around your waist, dragging his body closer, lips make contact to your clothed thigh. 

Your hands try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. “Jungkook, not now! We are in the open eye and…and what if someone just stumbles across us doing inappropriate things? That’s only going to ruin your reputation and make me want to vanish from the face of earth!” You try to fight back but in vain, his hands push you down to lay back on the blanket, his body hovering above you. Your hands grip his biceps, trying to stop him from running your skirt upwards, but when his sweet lips melt on the side of your neck you loosen up a little, letting him do whatever he wants. Soon enough the skirt of your dress is ridden above your waist, panties long forgotten to the side. Jungkook smirks while looking at how wet and glistening you are. “I missed this, I’ve been so busy lately that I forgot how pretty you look.” You slap his hand lightly, being embarrassed. He hums thinking about something, while you just lay there expecting his touch. “Is everything alright?” You ask, a little worried when he doesn’t touch you. “I’m contemplating on what to do, my fingers are dirty so I can’t use them, and going without prepping you will hurt.” 

Oh…he was just so thoughtful that it just melted you. You wanted to tell him that he can just put it in, you’ll endure. But before you can say anything his lips come in contact with your warm clit. You gasp in shock, fingers already tangling in his hair to try and push him away. He’s never done this to you before.  “Oh my lord! What are you doing!” But he doesn't budge, he only sucks harder around your folds, making you lean your head back moaning loudly. One of his hands pushes you down before coming to spread your thighs even more. His lips and tongue working wonders on you, almost making you forget about everything around, but getting you so, so flustered by all the slurping and licking sounds that fly in the air. Soon you feel your high coming and when the tip of his tongue brushes past your entrance you lose it, a high pitched moan leaving your throat while stars start to appear in the day sky. You breathe heavily, chest running up and down, legs shaking. Jungkook emerges from the skirt that fell down over his heads, lips glossy and grin almost as big as his pride from making you come so fast. “I think you are prepared enough now.” He pulls your skirt back up, gripping your legs and putting them over his shoulders, almost folding you in half. 

“I don’t want to know where you learn all of these nasty things from.” You say, finally getting back to your senses, only for a short time though. He laughs and pushes in, his cock sliding in and bottoming out instantly at how well prepped you were. “Would you look at that?” He cockily says. It only took him a few seconds of accommodation before starting to thrust quickly into you, making your breast almost spill from the confinement of your top. His lips eagerly nudge at your neck, hands not letting your legs slip from his shoulders. “Don’t worry, sunflower, you were the first one to try this one, until today I only see it done by others.” He whispers in your ears, making you clench tightly around him. Your arms grab him by his neck, pulling him closer, sweet sounds pouring into his ears making him hiss. “I’m embarrassed right now, you always pull stunts like this.” He laughs wholeheartedly, peace never slowing down. 

He gets up from your chest, eyes staring lovingly into yours before he stretches upwards, making him go even deeper if possible, also taking a moan out of you when you feel his tip gently nudge your cervix. “You’re a little deep…” Your heart flutters, fingers gently caressing his face. You could feel so much love all around you. Feeling your second orgasm come close, you turn your head looking at the sky above. It felt like you were the only ones under it at this moment. “I’m close, love.” You say. Jungkook’s peace also starts to wither, getting close to his own high. “Me too, my soul.” In an instant the love blooms between you two, your bodies burning up with passion and desire, the knots untying letting you claim each other once again. Both of you breath heavily, sweat running down your foreheads. He doesn’t pull out, but his arm reaches above your head, pushing him a little deeper once again, making you whine.

He comes down quickly not to hurt you, placing a daisy in your messy hair. “My beautiful flower.” He whispers, rough hands caressing the soft skin of your face making you blush even more. He collapses on top of you, your legs falling off his shoulders, but still feeling a little uncomfortable from all the soreness that’s appearing.  “Can you pull out, please?” “Nope.” He raises his head smiling smugly. “I’m getting sore.” “Sorry baby, but I’m starting to get a little worried by now. It’s been a year yet you are still not pregnant, not that I’m eager for a child, but I wonder what’s happening here.” He smiles and pecks your lips quickly.

“So these are your worries now? Weren’t you the one who said when it’s time it will come?” You scoff. “But it’s been long, what if you can’t get pregnant?” 

You frown a little, baby talking was a pretty sensitive topic, especially after so much trial and error. You didn't think it would affect you in any way, you were still young and if it was to come you will be more than happy to welcome a little bundle of joy. 

Jungkook didn’t seem very fond of the idea of having a baby either in the beginning, always saying how he was too busy to care for one. However, you are a little hurt now. Giving him a child is a dream of yours, but if that doesn’t happen, is your relationship going to stay the same? Maybe he will leave you for someone else that can give him one. Worry and insecurity starts growing into your veins. “It hurts, can you please get off.” You start to wiggle and he finally complies, pulling out and wiping you clean with a napkin. “It hurts badly? Did I hurt you?” He also grows worried, pulling your leg to inspect whether he hurt you badly or not. “It seems just like any other time after we’ve done it? Where does it hurt?” He asks, concerned. 

“Here…” You point to your heart, hurt more by the thoughts of him possibly leaving you for someone else then the soreness between your legs. 

He takes your hand in his and looks over you with worry. “Why? Is it bad, do we need to see a doctor?” You shake your head sitting up. “Will you leave me?” He tilts his head holding your hand close to his chest. “Leave you, no. Why would you think that?” “Because I might not be able to bear your children.” You sniffle. He laughs and puts your palm under his shirt, right where his heart sits. “Do you feel this? It beats for you and you only. Even if we can’t have them, this, what I feel for you…will never fade away, trust me.” The sincerity in his eyes and words make you tear up, cuddling closer to his chest to listen to the way his heart beats. And you stay close, holding each other until the sun almost dies down, enjoying his presence and eating all the goods you made. Packing everything up, Jungkook helps you on your feet, hands grabbing the basket and blanket. Thick and dark clouds covering what’s left of the sun. “I think it will rain tonight.” “Yes, so do I, we better hurry. I’m already dirty and I don’t want to wash up in the rain.” With quick steps you get back to the city. Welcomed by agitation right from the beginning. You grasp Jungkook’s hand tight and stick closer to him. “What is happening?” He asks, concerned.

We make our way into the madness, the rain starting to pour all of a sudden. Nobody can say anything, they just wander around, running and gathering what seems to be their belongings. Are they leaving? With heavy steps and hearts you arrive in front of your house, a car filled with military men waiting in front. “Stay here.” Jungkook instructs you, leaving the basket in your hands and covering your head with the blanket. 

You try to get closer to hear what’s happening, but all that you can see is Jungkook’s worried eyes. He gulps thickly and turns to you for a brief second, finally letting you see his glossy eyes. Without a word he jumps in the car and leaves. You remain alone on the streets, clothes drenched, the wooden basket falling from your hands on the ground. You stare into nothingness not wanting to believe that he just left without an explanation after sharing so much love. After what seemed to be an eternity, your sore and cold body finally moves. With shaky hands you pick up all the food that spilled on the road, most of it washed by the rain. Unknowingly tears start running down your face. You gathered everything and went inside. It was warm, but you just felt cold. 

After you wash up and lay in bed you can finally let all your emotions run wild, painful sobs being heard around the room in hopes of someone hearing them.

All you could do was wait…wait for his answers, wait for him to return home.

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19 August 1956 It’s been almost a month. A month since Jungkook left and never returned. You waited for a sign, you waited for him to show up at your door and jump in your arms. You always told yourself that no apologies can make you forgive him for this, but the truth is that you only needed to see his eyes, to feel his warmth and you know you will forget anything that has happened. You tried getting answers, but nobody knew much. You asked other military man to drive you to where he was, knowing that they knew where he was, but in vain. You were stuck for almost a month in this city, living like a widow instead of a happy wife. But now you know, a soldier came into the city and you overheard him saying how General Jeon was on death bed due to being injured in an attack in the city, his son getting ready to take his place. You almost fainted out of shock, not wanting to believe that was the truth, the reason your husband left without a trace. With the little power you had, after being drained out for so long, you gathered some necessities and jumped in the first communal carrier that was passing through the old city you lived in. And there you were, after many hours spent on the road, feet planted in front of the Jeon family house. The look of the place now eerie due to the attack of the enemies. You step inside the big garden, once decorated with pretty flowers, now only dirt and mud covering the yard, even the swing was just a pile of broken wood. Getting closer to the door you could feel your feet soften, shaking hands come in contact with the door knob. You enter, the house seeming devoid of life. Putting the little suitcase you carried down you scan the place for any movements. From the corner of your eyes you could see Jungkook’s father's office with a slightly open door. Your feet take slowly towards it, peeking through the gap. A figure sits lonely in the chair, head resting on the desk. Your heart skips a beat when you notice the messy hair of someone you know very well, Jungkook. Slowly you make your way in admiring his sleepy figure after all this time. His eyes carried dark circles under them, tired by all the work he had to do. Your hand makes its way to his locks, now just a little longer than you remember, but just as soft. You can’t help but let out a sigh at the sight of him, slight pang growing in your heart. He must have felt your touch, stirring in his sleep until his eyes opened and looked at you. He is shocked, jumping from his chair, strengthening his posture looking like he’s just seen a ghost. 

“Long time no see.” It’s the only thing you can say after so long. You had so many questions you wanted to ask, but it was hard to form them. “Y/N…” He mutters, hands rubbing his eyes in confusion, wondering if you would disappear. But you are still here, yet too calm. 

“You came.” He says. “You left me.” You respond.

He avoids your gaze, conscious of his actions and behavior. “I had no choice, my father is sick, I had to return, and…” “Stop, Jungkook.” He looks up at you, goosebumps appearing on his skin from your stern voice. “I don’t want to hear your nonsense, you left me. Why did you leave me?” He puts his hand on his forehead, eyes closing, trying to think of something to say. “I didn’t leave you, this is temporary, I would’ve returned to you, I would’ve come back home.” He argues back.

“When? I waited for a sign from you for almost a month.” You sniffle, eyes burning with tears that threaten to fall, the feeling way too overwhelming. 

“I waited for a letter, or a call! Someone to just appear at my door with any information. Hell, anything would’ve done!” You spit out in a blurry rush, afraid that he might just disappear again, leaving you alone and cold.  

“But you? You just left me there without any care, to rot and die from missing you so goddamn much…” You try to swallow the boulder you feel in your throat, but nothing can stop the feelings who already overspiled. Jungkook turns his head, eyes getting teary as well. “I had no choice, Y/N. He’s dying...” “And so was I!” Your fist hits his desk, rage burning like the salty tears that run on your face. “I was dying little by little everyday! I lived with you being away because I knew you would return. But now…you left without a word, I was worried sick! I didn’t think I'd see you again!” You bite your lip, the pressure making it almost bleed. “Stay out of it.” Your shoulders slouch, figure softening at his words. “Go back home and stay out of it, Y/N.” He looks sternly at you, after all this time still pulling this stupid obedience game. You’ve had enough. “If you don’t want me here and just continue to push me away, throwing me into the shadows then so be it, but don’t expect me to welcome you into my house, or my bed, or my heart anymore.” You grip with cold hands the tag that you wore for almost a year. In a swift motion, take it down from your neck, making Jungkook widen his eyes. “Don’t you dare!” He says, voice shaking. “Screw you.” Your hands throw the tag on the floor, landing right at his feet, turning your back to him you run out of the room, forgetting about everything else. Jungkook's body is stiff as a stone, head trying ever so hard to process what just happened. He missed you, he missed you like crazy. He imagined in his head the way you two would meet again, the way he would make it up and make you forget that he was even away. 

He ached to have you in his arms, to feel your touch, to kiss your lips. Now all that he could do was grip the piece of cold metal in his hands, sobs leaving his body uncontrollably. 

A warm hand places itself on the crown of his head, hoping that this was not the end, that you came back and forgave him, that he didn’t just lose you forever. It was Lady Min, however. Her eyes soft and warm, holding so much pity for the boy she raised all these years. “Oh my Jungkook. My swell little boy.” She pats his head while he cries and sobs, just like she was doing when he was just a small boy. “I-I lost her. Right?” He says through hiccups making her sigh.

“You only lose something you don’t care about anymore, Jungkook.” Her hands wipe his tears and help him back on his feet. “You are a soldier yourself, young boy. Are you going to lose without a proper battle?” He wipes his tears and calms down, holding the chain tightly to his chest. “No. I don’t want to let this happen.” “Then what are you waiting for? You’ve surely made many mistakes, but we are all humans after all, it’s in our nature to make mistakes. Y/N is a sweet girl, she will forgive you.” Jungkook gets a little courage from her reassuring words. “Go after your girl, Jungook. Don’t let her break away from you.” He nods and rushes after you, hands holding the tag like his life depends on it. … Things were just as heavy for you, already regretting having such attitude towards your husband. It was getting late and you needed a place to stay, since your old apartment was most probably sold already. You sigh, trying to wipe the remaining tear stains of your face, until a hand grabs your arm. You turn away alarmed, sensing that coming your way was only trouble. A man. His uniform was one of a soldier, face grinning from ear to ear, making goosebumps appear on your skin, this guy ment danger. 

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing at such late hour? Should I accompany you home?” You gulp and try to take your arm out of his grip, keeping as well as you can composure. “I’m fine, my husband’s waiting for me.” You say trying to free up once again, hoping he gets the signal and leaves you alone, but instead, another guy makes its way towards you two. “Is there a problem here?” He asks, looking at the shorter guy in front of him. You look pleadingly, hoping that he will instruct the one in letting you go, but you are so wrong. “She’s alone at night, in such place, I figured I could help her get back home.” 

The other guy laughs and shakes his head. “It’s pretty late, you are right.” And then you see it, the nasty stares you get, the way his hand goes ever so slightly upper on your arm. “Let go of me, I am a married woman, if my husband finds out both of you will be killed.” You try to say confidently, after all it’s the truth. You just gave them a chance to not experience their eyes being carved out, because if he finds out they touched you, not even begging and praying would help. “Come on, don’t be so stiff, it’s just some fun we can have before you get home, doesn’t it sound tempting?” You shake your head, finally understanding their motives. The other hand moves to pull out Jungkook’s tag, only to touch nothing in return. 

You threw the tag at him. You start gulping harder, body tensing up and muscles starting to shake. “Let go of me, I am not joking, my husband is in high military, if he finds out you will be tortured!” The men only laugh, the second guy comes close to you, gripping your hands from the back, while the first one plays with the ties on your top. 

“Let’s see what we have here.” He says untying your top, your cleavage now on sight. “Let me go, this is your last chance!” You try to wiggle out, but it’s in vain, they are way stronger and bigger than you. His hands work fast, dragging your top low enough for your bra to be in full sight, his disgusting hands pull down your arm one strap. “Oh! So pretty, do you see this? Such a tasty dinner for us.” Tears fall once again while you still try to resist, the soldier's hand reaches to cup your breast through your bra, but it never touches it. Everything stops in time for a second and you look at his wrist, blood rushing, a huge hole in it. The soldier looks confused until the pain and shock starts to kick in and he falls to the ground. The other one lets you go, trying to run away but two more shots could be heard, and he falls to the ground with a wound on each leg. You cover your chest with your arms, looking in the distance to see your husband. Eyes burning red in anger, in his hand shining the piece of metal you needed back so much. 

He rushes over, putting his hands on your shoulders to examine whether you got hurt or not. You feel too ashamed to look at him, other men have touched and seen your body. His hands put your necklace back on, his jacket is gently placed over your shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I am here now.” He grabs your trembling body in his arms, caressing your head and back, shushing and calming you down. He grabs you even closer while some of his men appear at the scene, he made his whole pluton to look after you. 

“Sergeant! What’s your order?” The men salute him with respect. “Get them away and I don’t care what you do to them, just don't have mercy, they touched what’s mine.” He said through gritted teeth, a dangerous, dark look on his face. “Yes, sir!” They all comply and try to take the two who are crying and begging for their lives, but Jungkook doesn’t budge, he just holds you close to him until you get back to the house. … After he made absolutely sure you weren’t hurt, he let you take a bath, saying he wants to discuss once you are ready for bed. And he stayed truthful to his words this time. Entering the room also ready for bed, he comes closer to you letting his body rest. “We should talk.” You hum, turning your body away from him. “I know you are upset with me, and you have the right to be so. But I love you, Y/N, I would never want to do something as cruel as leaving you all by yourself. I should’ve explained myself first instead of just leaving like an idiot.” He comes closer to you wrapping his arms around your form from behind. You shy away at his touch. “Please, don’t hide from me, I’ve made mistakes, I know, but I am so, so sorry, forgive me.” He whispers, his nose buried in the back of your neck. You want to cry, and it’s not even for the reason he thinks, you feel disgusted about what happened. “I’m dirty now, right?” You ask biting your bottom lip. “Dirty? In what way?” He slowly asks. “They’ve seen and touched, I’m disgraceful.” you say while your hand presses the tag closer into your skin. Jungkook rests on his elbow and turns you around so you could lay on your back. Hi other hand cups gently your face. “You are not dirty nor disgraceful.” His hands caress your features gently. “Don’t feel that way, please.” “But they touched me, they almost saw me naked.” 

Jungkook leans down and kisses your eyes, then goes lower and lower, spilling praises along the way, his lips stopping at the nape of your neck. “If you really feel like this then how about you let me see and touch? I would make everything go away, my sun, you would only remember my eyes and lips on your pretty body after this, what do you think?” You look away and lightly tug at the top, loosening it for him to see and touch, and he complies. “That’s my girl.” His touch was gentle, cupping everything he could, kissing everywhere was skin.” 

It felt intimate, not lustfull or filled with desire, just intimate. His hands gently run up and down your waist while his mouth runs over every little crevice making you forget those two disgusting men even exist, imprinting only Jungkook’s lips and scent in your skin. “Are you better now? No more bad thoughts?” He asks, head resting on your chest. “Yes, and I also want to say sorry, I shouldn't have reacted like I did, it only led to trouble.” He smiles and kisses between your breasts once again, then looks up and also captures your lips in a slow and tangy kiss, something to remember. After your quick reunion, Jungkook tells you all that has happened in the city and with his father, and how the government wants him to take his father’s place and become a general. You listen to all his worries, you cry together and laugh together, sharing some love in between. You stay up all night just talking and catching up, and until dawn arrives he also reveals that you two have to move away again, in the countryside this time. They have a vacation house there, and since the enemy started getting closer and closer, it would be best for you to remain in a safer and unpopulated area. Even though not pleased with the plan, you comply, knowing that he only wants what’s best for you, and getting you hurt or potentially killed is not in any of his strategies.

After all that you fall into a deep slumber, entangled in each other’s warmth, even though both of your heads were clouded with worry, you at least have each other, and from now on without any run-aways. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11 September 1956 After all that happened you wanted to stay and celebrate Jungkook’s 26th birthday, still hoping for some more time together, however, you were shortly after sent alone to the location of his vacation home. A beautiful, cozy house, with a big yard and a lake behind. It looked straight out of paradise. Jungkook kept sending you letters when he was away and couldn’t contact you on the landline, he promised to come and visit somewhere around mid september, before he will take on a dangerous mission, trying to annihilate all the enemy’s camps from your region.

You were scared to say the least. You were seeing him less and less and now he was about to go to war and fight for your region’s freedom. But you waited patiently, hoping that he will arrive soon so you can get a piece of his love once again. Possibly even the last, but you didn’t want to let those thoughts linger around your mind, he was a strong guy, you knew he could lead such missions with minimum damages done and high success rate. And so you waited, day after day, from sunrise till dusk. He promised you, and you knew he would come. Tonight was no special, September began warm in the beginning, but right now the cold started to settle more and more. It was just like you were feeling, the warmth you once felt was slowly losing its power, making you grow colder without him by your side. Putting one more log in the fireplace you sit down, eyes glaring into the open flames who burn hot and red. It’s quiet. But not even the quietness lasts long once you can hear a car stopping in front of your house, heart starting to beat faster, mind racing. He’s home.

With quick steps you rush to the door opening it, in front of you a tall figure, dressed in military attire, his smile bright when he sees your figure. You jump in his arms knowing he will catch you, and he does, even though outside was cold, his arms felt just as warm as ever. His lips even come in contact with yours, leaving a sweet feeling behind. “You came.” Voice barely a whisper, fighting back tears since you’ve cried too much lately. “I promised.” He also whispers to you, leading you both back inside, you still wrapped around in his arms. Once your feet were on the ground you could examine him, wondering if he’s eating properly, or taking care of him the way he always did. He looks almost the same, only his eyes seem a little tired, but they hold so many emotions that is easy to forget about it. “I can’t stay long.” He says, voice sweet but sad, you look down, staring at his feet. “You just came, now you have to leave?” You ask a little upset. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, tomorrow we set trace for the first camp. I wish I could've come sooner to spend some time with you, but I had so many things to take care of, they didn’t allow me to leave.” His hands caress your cheek, taking in that you were upset, making his heart swell with pain. But it was for the best, his duty is to keep the people safe, you being his first priority. 

And since the attacks started being more and more aggressive, his only choice was to send you away from population until he manages to take everything under control. “When will I see you again?” You ask, biting down the sobs that want to erupt. A war could take months if not years. Jungkook bites his bottom lip and looks away from you, his voice a whisper when he says “I don’t know…”. You fall on the rocking chair, head in your hands, breaking down in the end. He comes closer and kneels in front of you, resting his forehead on top of your head, breathing heavily while trying to surpass his own tears. “Please…just stay tonight.” You mutter, looking up at him with doe, teary eyes. “I can’t, love.” He tries to resist his desires to hold and love you. “You can leave in the morning, just stay tonight, please!.” You plead, and plead, begging him to hold you tight like your life depends on it. He swears and looks away, getting up from the ground and straight to the phone on your wall, finally giving in. He calls at his base to inform them he will be there first thing in the morning, but he can’t make it tonight. He turns to you giving a small smile. “You see the things you do to me? Didn’t I say a while ago to not bring me trouble?” You laugh and open your arms for him, not taking long to feel them wrap around you. “I wonder how you didn’t see I was trouble from the first time we met?” Your voice suave, enchanting even, luring him in even more. “Oh God, how I missed you.” He says leaving kisses down your neck. “Didn’t you say you weren’t a believer when we first met?” He grins at you unbuttoning your shirt, eyes never leaving yours, making you feel hotter than the fire burning next to you. “You start to believe a little when this is the woman you have next to you.” You laugh caressing his hair gently, looking how he manages to take off your top, bra following right after. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this, still the hottest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He says managing to make you blush. “Let’s go upstairs.” You say trying to pull him up, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, his arms carry you to the couch nearby, laying you down on it with him on top. “Here?” You ask unsure. “Yes, here, I can’t risk letting too much time pass by.” His hands worked fast, stripping you both of your clothes and turning you around to lay on your stomach. “What are you doing?” You ask looking back, but he doesn’t respond, only maneuvers your body in such a way that your bum is up in the air, making you exposed for him. 

“Jungkook, what is this?” You ask concerned. “Relax, I’ll make you feel good in just a bit.” And then you feel it, the tip of his member running slowly from your bundle of nerves till your entrance. You gasp at the feeling, having been deprived of touch for so long made you so wet and ready. He runs up and down a few more times before you could feel him penetrate your warm walls. “Honey, this is.” Your words get stuck in your throat when he fills you up fully without any warning or preparation, but you were so excited to have him again that he just slid right up without much worry. “You take me so well, so ready for me all the time, didn’t need preparation either.” He says, hands gripping the flesh of your ass firmly while moving in and out. “I missed you, that’s why.” You manage to make out through your moans. He whines when he realizes he touched your sweet spot, making you yelp loudly, hand thrown back trying to grip his wrist. He starts going a little faster making you see stars and shapes all around the room. “I’m close.” You say, high approaching at a rapid state, but in your disbelief he denies you and stops, pulling out completely making you whine. “Why? I was almost there.” He’s never denied you in the past, why now? “Don’t be greedy, soul. I need to have you for a little longer. Who knows when I can get another glimpse at this sweet pussy.” You gasp in embarrassment as he turns you around, your hands already gripping his strong back. He kisses you once again, longer, harder and so much sweeter before entering you again. This felt different than anything you’ve done with him. Hot bubbles of pleasure were bursting around you, both your bodies warmer than the burning fire. It felt so raw and so pure, just sincere love being exchanged like it was for the last time. Getting closer to the edge once again, your husband seemingly close too, this time. He rests his head on your shoulder, his breath tickling your neck. You scratch his back when maybe the best orgasm he’s ever given you washes over, followed by the feeling of warm cum stuffing your walls. For a few minutes the only things you could hear in the room were the creaking of the fire and two bodies trying so hard to catch their panting breaths, foreheads resting against each other. 

Jungkook raises his head to look at your figure, your eyes closed in a blissful haze. He smiles sadly knowing he can’t be here much longer, lips coming closer, catching yours in another kiss. “I love you.” He says, your eyes meeting just like the first day, this time instead of terror, only love and care could be seen. “I love you too.”

All night was filled with love, your two bodies melting into one another in front of the fireplace. Jungkook made sure you knew how much he loved you and assured you that you will meet again someday. Opening your eyes, trying to adjust to the light that was peeking through your bedroom window. You scanned the room remembering the events that happened last night making you smile, turning around you expected to see the face of your sleeping husband, but the bed was cold. You frown, knowing what it ment, he already left. 

He did say goodbye last night, but you were too tired to acknowledge it. You get up from the bed, legs almost giving up. You were dressed up in warm pajamas and even cleaned out, he must have done it for you while you were falling asleep. Going down the stairs, the house was empty, the car was not in front of your door anymore, the fire long gone. On the kitchen table there was a singular piece of paper, a letter. “My dear wife, Y/N. I’ve been gone for so long the past few months, busy and away. Forgive me. I know I might have never been the best husband for you, I always felt like I’ve been depriving you of the freedom you always craved for. But, believe me, all that I do is for you to get that freedom one day. I might be a hypocrite, making you wait over and over for me to come home just to give you bits and pieces of what you truly deserve.

And I thought of letting you go, having you achieve your own dreams and goals, but I am a greedy man…

It does not matter how far you run, it makes me run even faster after you. It does not matter how much you push me away, it just makes me want to come to you even more.

So, please, forgive me for everything. Not being there for you, letting you in the dark, wandering around uncertain paths. 

And in my shame I ask for you to wait for me once again, carry the thought of me in your head, and the tag I gave you close to your heart so you don’t forget me.

Until we meet again, my soul.

Yours to love, Jeon Jungkook.”

Soft tears fall onto the piece of paper, making the ink run, you fall to the ground clutching the piece close to your chest. 

How can you even forget him? You are so grateful for what he’s done for you. You smile, wiping your tears. The silver tag dangling in the air. You bring it close to your lips, leaving a warm kiss on his name, the name of the man who makes you feel so much. “I’ll wait for you, my love.” You whisper, clutching everything tight to you, praying he’ll come home safe and unharmed. One day you’ll have him back in your arms again.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

31 December 1956

The last day of December.

Outside heavy snow is ripping through the night sky, letting a thick layer gather on the ground. In the suburbs a house could be seen, on the front porch the snow has been swept away. Looking towards the house, the man admires the scenery in front of him. Inside only a small light could be seen coming out from the front window, lighting his way. He takes small steps through the crunching snow, feet planted right outside the door when he’s hit with the warmth of home. His home. He doesn’t knock, only opens the door slowly, letting his frame inside.

In front of the fireplace, rocking on a chair, a woman could be seen. Her hands quickly knitting what seemed to be a small blanket. His eyes warm up at the sight in front of him, and she finally acknowledges his presence, stopping her hands to look at him. He smiles, taking a step closer until his eyes widen in surprise. With love filled eyes she looks at him, while her small hands uncover what seem to be the small outline of a belly. “Welcome home.” She says, opening her arms, making his eyes burn with happy tears, gently throwing himself in them.

Resting his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat,

December has never felt so warm before.

[hwaflms]

round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]

{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/

[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc

[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me

[☆] wc. 6.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh

[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p

even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.

today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.

you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)

now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.

presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.

“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”

you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.

swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”

“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.

you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.

“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.

“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.

“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”

he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn’t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.

out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.

as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.

sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.

“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.

“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.

“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.

“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”

some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.

“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.

“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.

“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”

haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.

“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.

your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?

it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.

maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.

you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.

“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.

much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.

renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.

taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.

while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.

you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.

“are you okay with this?”

and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.

he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.

jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”

renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.

the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.

you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.

“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.

haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.

“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.

settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.

you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.

“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”

it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.

“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.

if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.

at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.

you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–

no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?

you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.

finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”

“who are you talking to?”

you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don’t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.

“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.

“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”

he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”

you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.

“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”

“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”

“…what?”

everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.

“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.

“like you want to kiss me.”

a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.

“am i wrong, pretty?”

judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.

his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”

normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.

he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.

you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.

no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.

“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”

you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.

you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”

your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.

“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”

everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.

though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”

even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.

“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”

if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.

“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”

his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”

you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.

you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.

he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”

your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.

in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.

“wait hyuck, let me–“

as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“

it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”

your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”

taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.

the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”

“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”

“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.

[chithereader]

playing it cool / aaron hotchner

[credits to the owners of these photos!!]

word count: 1.9k

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

genre: fluff!!!!!!

cw: sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, so much of aaron’s thoughts because we know that man thinks soo much more than he speaks!!

a/n: hiiii this is my third post so far and tbh i was so nervous to post the first two as that was my first time ever posting any of my writings anywhere!! but i’ve been getting so much more love on those than expected and i just really wanted to say thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs <33 i was honestly only expecting less than 10 notes as a newbie and reaching up to 200 is so so so wonderful. and especially for the love of hotch i– ugh!!!!! i already love u all 

The team had worked a straight 5 weeks worth of cases prior, which had warranted Strauss to grant them all a mandatory 3-day rest. This simply meant that for 3 whole days there are no cases, no deadlines, and no new case files. They could come to the office at whatever time they’d like as long as they finished some reports at the end of the day. 

Aaron being Hotch the boss man still aimed to arrive at the office at a reasonable time– 7:30am. To be fair, this is an hour and a half later than when he usually arrives at the office. And in his mind, the earlier he arrives, the more he can get done, and the more he gets done, the earlier he can come home. 

This is the only reason why he is up at 6:00am on a supposed rest day. He did expect that he’d struggle a bit more to drag himself out of bed, knowing you’d be keeping him hostage with limbs that wrap around him in ways he can’t begin to understand, but to his surprise, you weren’t there. 

Dragging his feet across the carpeted floor, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and white shirt fitting him oh-so-snugly, he tries to find you. He’s rubbing the sleep of his eyes as he peeks his head into your shared bathroom. No sign of you. 

He’s covering his mouth as he yawns when he quietly opens the door to Jack’s bedroom–still no sign of you. Remembering his son has been nursing a stomach bug since yesterday, he opened the door further to check on him. No fever. No chills. No sign of discomfort. 

When he’s sure Jack’s okay, he turns around to go back to find where you went. He even checked the backyard as he passed by a window to see if you’re at your favorite swing reading, that perhaps you just woke up early and wanted to feel the morning sun because you claimed it lightens you. 

He smiles a little to himself as he treads downstairs, finally hearing your soft murmurs as you spoke with someone presumably over the phone. As he neared the kitchen he realized that the person on the line was your colleague and friend Tilly, and that she was on speaker phone making it easy to listen in. 

He slows down his steps as he nears the landing and pauses when he gets behind a wall near the kitchen. He doesn’t know what came over him. He doesn’t usually sneak around to eavesdrop, nor did he ever feel the need to especially when it came to you. You tell him everything, prompted and unprompted. 

But perhaps it was the haze of the morning or the curiosity of what could possibly get you out of bed this early when you’re usually the one snoozing away as he’s getting ready for work– he stayed quiet behind that wall and made it his mission to understand the conversation. 

He clears his mind and strains his ear, going as far as making his breaths slow and far apart. 

He hears Tilly giggling, “Don’t get me wrong, Adam from Finance is really cute but.. isn’t he just a little too serious? He’s always got that frown going on.” 

You sigh a little loudly, obvious that it’s a sigh to humor and not of exasperation, “Tilly, you know I love you, but every day you complain about being single. And every other day there’s a decent guy who you always always find that one flaw in that just crosses them off for you forever.” Tilly lets out a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a gasp. 

“That is so not tr–” “Oh, Hugh’s just too clean. And Frederick’s too hard, it’s like- scary. Yes, veiny hands are hot but there’s veiny and too veiny, and Jason was just a double too veiny.” 

Aaron momentarily pauses his listening and looks down at his hands, suddenly conscious where he fit in that category. Factoring in his age, his work, and the action he gets from the field– these all show. He tried thinking of a time you could’ve shown any dislike or disgust towards his hands but all he could think of was that one night when he cupped your face and you leaned towards it more, turning slightly to take his thumb into your mou–

He’s shaken out of his thoughts when he hears Tilly asking about you leaving, “What time are you getting to the office by the way? I just don’t want to get there without you. Adam might ask about that second date and I just need you as my bluff, my beautiful girl.” He makes a mental note to message Jessica before you both get ready for work. 

“Riiiight. Remind me how many guys have I scared off for you now? And how many times have I helped you scare them off? Besides, I can’t go today and I’ve already told Bobby I’m on leave.” 

In a slight surprise and panic Tilly whines, “What?! Why? You’re such a traitor. You know damn well I get so bored without you.” Aaron didn’t even know you were planning on staying home. You hadn’t mentioned anything about it last night which made him even more curious what made you decide. 

He hears your soft laugh, “Don’t be so dramatic. You’ll manage a day without me. I mean you have to– my son caught a stomach bug yesterday so I just want to make sure he’ll recover completely.” 

Aaron can hear Tilly responding, something about soup and warm baths, but his heart has just stopped so he’s not really processing any new words at the moment. 

My son. My son. My son. My son caught a stomach bug. 

He feels lightheaded. His heart kickstarts again, his pulse is ringing in his ear. He can feel his chest pounding to his heart’s beat. The words that rolled off your lips so effortlessly, so mindlessly, echoes in his head. 

Jack may be young but he is smart. So so smart beyond his years. And he has grown to understand what had happened to his mom Haley, but not once has he– and even you allowed Jack to forget who Haley is and how much she loves him. 

Images of you joining in their traditions of honoring and remembering Haley plays in his head in flashes. You helping Jack arrange a bouquet for Haley’s death anniversary. You helping Jack make a card for her birthday. You mixing the paint to get the right shades as Jack paints a portrait of Haley for his Mothers’ Day homework. 

Aaron had told you everything there was to know about Haley and you’ve listened. He knows you adore her. You adore her for the same reasons he adored her. You understood the space Haley had in his life and in Jack’s life, and not once were you ever jealous, immature, or selfish about it. Even though he would’ve completely understood if you were. 

You were nothing but supportive, and understanding, and loving. Even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when you deserved better. Admittedly, there was a point in time when he struggled with coming to terms with falling in love– with you nonetheless. You’re young, ambitious, brilliant, talented, insanely beautiful, and unfairly kind. 

When the two of you had met, this was his profile: divorced with a kid, recovering from trauma that stemmed from being stabbed multiple times in his own home, emotionally unavailable, annoyingly serious and fatally dull– which really makes him wonder what made you fall in love with him in the first place, and even more so what made you stay even when he was bafflingly dense about how you felt about him.  

He didn’t know how long he was standing there, like a deer caught in headlights. Replaying your words and his memories over and over again, slowly coming to the conclusion that you’re absolutely perfect and he’s absolutely gone for you. 

Slowly coming to his senses, Aaron becomes more aware of the silence. The call must have ended while he was having realizations about things. He rounds the corner silently, getting a feel of where you’re facing. Luckily he guesses right, that you’re facing away from him. 

You were rummaging through the fridge– the vegetable drawer if he had to guess, judging by how much you’re slouching and reaching, and the sound of the glass containers you use to prolong their freshness. 

He quickly surveys the scene- your phone is on the counter, beside it is a chopping board with carrots and onions, a carton of chicken broth, Jack’s favorite dinosaur-shaped pasta, and chocolate milk– the one drink you both know can make Jack feel instantly better, happier. 

His heart pinches again. You got up early to make sure Jack had something to eat for breakfast in time for his medicine. You got up early even though you aren’t planning on going to work. You aren’t going to work because you want to stay with Jack. You called Jack your son. 

With so many things running in his head, he stands quietly observing you finding god knows whatever vegetable. Maybe it's the intensity of his stare or the volume of his thoughts, or maybe he started to breathe loudly– but suddenly you knew he was there. He could tell. 

You slowly straightened your back from when you were leaning. Your hands have stopped rummaging through the drawer, and he could see the goosebumps on your legs and shoulders from the way the sunlight hits you through the kitchen window. 

You turn around slowly, as if you were just caught doing something you aren’t supposed to be doing, “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” grimacing as if it was a crime to be hot and cute and gut-wrenchingly-sweet. 

“No.” His voice is groggy. Deep and rough given that he just woke up minutes ago and hasn’t really used it since. Looking at you through studying eyes, he clears his throat “Uhm, I woke up to get ready for work and you weren’t there.” 

Aaron suddenly feels a little cold. The thin material of his shirt and pajamas doing little to contain what warmth he has left in his body. Or maybe it’s you, maybe his body has sensed that you’re near and is now craving your warmth, making him feel a magnified amount of its absence.

“Oh.. I’m sorry I just wanted to get ahead of cooking so Jack can have soup before he takes his medicine at 8 and since I was also planning to do some work though I’m on leave, it just made sense to get an early start…” You slow your words, noticing how Hotch is studying you tenfold in the moment, as if you were an apparition, “Are you okay? Did you want soup too? I can pack you some before you go?”

His silence makes you panic a little. You can’t really tell if he’s upset about something or if he’s sleepwalking, “Or you can eat here. I mean– you live here, of course you can eat here. I mean like instead of bringing it to the office– not that if you eat here, you can’t bring some anymore.” 

The longer he stays silent, adoring you, the more you scramble to fill the silence, “I’m just– you know you can do whatever you want. You can eat here, there, anywhere. Unless you don’t want soup. I mean we still have leftover steak, I cou–” 

You pause your rambling because you can see a smile starting to form on his face. A real, big smile. Laugh lines and dimples and all, which makes you smile. Realizing how stupid you were sounding and how funny the situation was becoming, you started giggling.

And just as you think he’s about to join the laughter to make fun of you, his smile softens and he says, “Marry me.” 

part 2 here!!!!!