#single parent tae

[gruzzlebear]

I'm a simple man. I see bird, I tag it as Zippy. Or Taehon, or Tae, or Tae(hon) which is their combination tag because they're the same person but like, in the way Undertale and Deltarune characters are the same

[alphabetboyluvr]

habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud. 

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed. 

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail. 

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung. 

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?" 

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too. 

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to.  Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up." 

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips. 

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer. 

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole. 

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes. 

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before. 

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with. 

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck. 

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

[taegularities]

colour me in: redraft | jjk (m)

Summary: The calm is more appreciated after a storm. Life with Jungkook proves to you that sometimes, joy can, in fact, overshadow grief. Yet, not without confronting and removing all hurdles standing in your way once and for all.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; some tame angst, sooo much fluff, smut ➳ warnings: new relationshippppp, so much hugging and kissing, yoongi!! tae!!, tears, abandonment issues, talk about social anxiety (just briefly and nothing serious!), jungkook drops a big question :'), a surprise in the middle, a surprise near the end, and then a SURPRISE at the end lol, many surprises, they're so crazy for each other it's gross; explicit sexual content: okay – kook is wearing a chain.. this vibe :'), making out, showering together, shower sex, spanking, biting, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, mouth/face f*cking, mirrorssss, he likes her ass and tiddies, tears, choking, v brief ass stuff, rough and soft sex, dom and big cawk jk, vocal jk, multiple orgasms, they're simps; ALSO YEAH THE ENDING :') ➳ word count: 25.3k ➳ a/n: so when i said this chapter would be shorter… welp lol. but i still think it introduces the next arc really well. i kinda love the ending!! .. and the next part will be </3 :'''') as always beta'd by my lovely @missgeniality 🤍 i hope you guys like this one a lot. worked my ass off for this fr :') if you do, please do support the chapter and interact with me, too, it makes my day <3 ➳ listen to: i need u by yaeow | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs | DC SERVER

Monday morning’s breakfast is awkward. Or at least, the very first minute of it.

The hands of your watch drift to 9 AM; you should’ve expected you wouldn’t be occupying the dining table alone. Your parents, sipping the last of their coffee, aren’t that much of a surprise after all.

You breathe a quiet breath of relief when their eyes dart towards your timid forms at the threshold, then back to the table. And a moment later, they’re pushing their chairs back across the marble floor before they clear the path to breakfast for the two of you.

Your father acknowledges you with a brief, polite nod on his way out, even flashing a similarly quick smile. Ingenuine, because his glance, fleeting when directed to you, is as disappointed as your Mom’s behind him.

Today, you understand. Somewhere in the depths of your recovering mind, you feel upset about shitfacing yourself so thoroughly, too.

You haven’t seen your mother in over two days. Jungkook’s post-showcase confessions brought you to Eun, and the next morning you barely scanned your room before you left for her place again.

Guess the momentary encounter in the hallway doesn’t quite count; you could hardly crack your eyes open. Combined with half the dozen naps you took in your locked room the very next day, you won’t exactly expect pride from her right now.

Until now, as she advances towards your body, you didn’t consider much of her side; you stayed focused on the other occurrences passing after sunset. Moments whose scent your sheets still carry.

As your mother comes to a stand, you prepare your vocal cords, breathing in to explain yourself until you realise that she isn’t looking at you at all. Her eyes are firmly glued to Jungkook’s face, devoid of enmity for once.

Instead, she flattens her dress, sighing through her red-tinted lips before she nods towards him and simply says, “Thank you.”

And that’s it. A little breathtaking, entirely new.

You’re dumbfounded when she leaves; Jungkook doesn’t manage a single word. You imagine that if you’re baffled, he’s probably rethinking her words to assure he didn’t hallucinate them.

But neither of you did. And the silence lingering for a couple more seconds proves the depth of reality; not that you’ll change your mind about leaving your place. But the hint of appreciation, shot directly at him is a pleasant first nevertheless.

Breakfast is patient but fast. The quiet atmosphere doesn’t derive from the night before or what your mother just left you with, but from the emotional fatigue slowly dropping off your shoulders.

Jungkook lets you feast in peace, a soft palm rubbing over the back of your hand every now and then to assure you’re okay. And you are. You’re getting used to these changes.

To this alternative to whatever you feared before. A chance to erase all words and start on a blank page; a white canvas, waiting for vibrant colours instead of monochrome gloom.

Yet, despite the tranquillity last night, still present in the air and in your aching limbs, you don’t understand the sincerity of all the confessions he uttered until you leave.

Because breathing in your car isn’t as suffocating as it was the last few weeks. Back when you’d navigate through the town alone, the passenger seat empty. Or when you plucked up the courage and drove to the showcase numbly.

Or when the pain pierced through your chest; when your drunk ass thought the world would  remain blue forever.

All of it is gone when you buckle up, shifting in your seat as you announce, “Okay. Let’s finally get you home.”

The engine roars for a moment, the car trembling, but you only register the knot in your throat when he says, “Feels so unfair of me. Having my girl drive me around so much.”

You don’t miss the endearment; neither the way your heart skips a beat.

Incapable of a proper reaction, you clear your throat and stutter, all at once and oddly in succession until you settle on a weak, “Why unfair?”

“Because. You do it a lot.”

You really do not. The night the museum closed and you dropped him off at your place was one of a few times; besides, he’s operated your vehicle more than enough before, too.

But you don’t contradict him, instead lightly suggest, “Well, you can drive if you want.”

You’re relieved when he joins your smile, dimples ever-so-sweet and genuine as he promises, “It’s fine. I’ll just stare at you.”

The shudder along your spine is delightful — relentless, he keeps your nerves alight. Perhaps he’s back to the self you knew pre-broken-hearts, playful and teasing, but the effect of his words curses through your veins hotter than ever.

“That’s creepy,” you still retort; you’ll gladly keep fighting this sweet, awkward battle against compliments for life, unaware how to handle them. “And it makes me nervous.”

“Sorry.”

Jungkook laughs, the back of two fingers reaching to your cheek to graze it featherlightly. Maybe he feels the heat beneath your skin, enhanced through his touch.

By now, you’ve spent a year with him — as a party fling, a class frenemy and a blue flower. But each second ticking away brings a new wave of soft, shy speechlessness. New honeymoon emotions.

The certainty of his reciprocated feelings, the fact that you’re finally on the same page, makes you rethink his tender confessions and touches differently. Makes you navigate the relationship differently.

His eyes drift back to the quiet, narrow street, surrounded by houses and blooming gardens. Probably as tired of the idyllic utopia as you, he doesn’t spare the suburban setting any more attention.

He only lets a flat hand rub against his thighs, nipping at his clothing as he says, “God, I can’t wait to get out of these damn joggers.”

Right. While not a main focus, you did find the special attire at breakfast today quite amusing.

“Did you even get to shower since picking me up?” you ask.

“Yeah. When you were napping again yesterday. Just gotta wash my hair later tonight.”

Hmm. You spent half your day knocked out; Jungkook could’ve circled the world and you wouldn’t have known.

“Oh. Good.”

The road proceeds straight, emptier near the suburbs. You allow a reckless glance before tackling busy streets; his eyes meet yours in curiosity, hair even messier than the night he met you in front of the bar.

When he left his apartment in joggers and an old shirt, mane untamed and no extra clothing at hand, he probably didn’t expect to abandon his place for so long. It gives you solace that he doesn’t regret it.

You drop the million memories of yesterday’s sunset burning into your eyes and everything that introduced it. The drunk words and the begging.

And then drop everything that followed afterwards; more pleading, more touching, more confessions that were in no way uttered through inebriate but not quite through sobriety either.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

You drop all the remembrances to focus on the moment; just to make sure that it’s real. So you ask, “Why didn’t you wash your hair there, too?”

For a moment, you see a flicker in his eyes, short-lived and quick; and his answer shoots out even more rapidly, “Just so.”

He emphasises his admission with a shrug of his shoulder, but it’s not nearly as convincing as he anticipates. Not buying a word, you push again, “C’mon.”

“I swear.”

“I’m curious now, though.”

There’s a momentary drop of silence before Jungkook hums, thinking as though he’s crafting a plausible excuse. Then, he says, “I didn’t wanna be away for too long.”

“…Why?”

“Why would I want to be?”

Ah…

Hmm. Well, maybe that’s enough for now.

Maybe he’s still not used to laying his secrets open. Maybe you need to practise patience, too, and stop digging like that.

You know that’s not all there is, but you certainly understand that it’s not a lie after all. Despite the pause and the obvious way his brain racked for a reason, his tone is genuine. You’ve experienced his insecurities before — that’s not what it was this time.

So you focus on the steering wheel instead, turning it left and away from the truck you drove way too close to. Your distraction might kill you — right there, next to you, clearing his throat and sitting up.

“Oh,” he says, segueing, and you let him, “wait, I forgot. Could we stop by at Yoongi’s for a sec? I wanted to see how he’s been doing.”

An abrupt change in topics, but not too abstract. As someone merely acquainted with the man, you’ve been collecting info on his state from Jimin; of course Jungkook would drop by personally.

You take a look at your digital watch; it’s barely ten and you don’t need to get away before 10:45. Taehyung agreed to meet with you to accompany you to your new potential flat again, so you should have time for a detour.

But.

“Is he…” you start, “gonna be okay with me being there?”

“Why?”

“I mean, just ‘cause… You know. We weren’t the closest for a while.”

Jungkook’s forehead wrinkles in new perplexion, muttering a few words. It takes a couple seconds — but eventually, he figures out that you’re not referring to Yoongi and yourself, and his expression changes immediately.

To subtle pain, you’d guess, like he doesn’t want to relive the memory. Like it never happened; like you weren’t two pieces of the same shattered heart this entire time.

But then he sighs, a hand wandering to your thigh. He kneads it softly, as a reminder to himself and to you that the past isn’t transpiring right now; that you’ve finally breathed and waded through it.

His optimism is encouraging when he says, “Nah. He thinks you’re cool.”

“I guess,” you mumble. You tap the steering wheel nervously, lips in a thin line before you add a hushed, “And if not, that’s alright, isn’t it? Like, hey, as long as you like me? Yeah, I shouldn’t overthink it…”

Jungkook releases air through his nose. You perceive a subtle shake of his head, as if to scold you, hear him say earnestly but gently, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t just like you.”

And whether casual or not, his words engulf your body immediately, like a soothing warm touch across your chest, yet effectively freezing your beating heart in place.

You can’t pinpoint whether the weight of his own words ever affects him as much as it affects you, or whether harbouring these emotions has become a familiar habit to him. At least to you, his tone is conversational and promising, perhaps even subliminally reassuring.

“At the very least,” he continues, “he’ll never disapprove of you the way Jimin disapproves of me.”

Which… snaps you back into reality for a second.

Your friend’s name is connected to more than mere dislike for the man next to you; currently, you think of dark nights and lamp-lit streets. After-midnight shenanigans and near tears in your own car, driven by the man who broke and mended your heart.

It reminds you of a blurry picture; two guys standing near an entrance, the older of them patting the other’s shoulder; smiling at him.

You do wonder if it was a fabrication of your mind.

“Forget Jimin,” you tell Jungkook, speech broken when you take another left and resumed when broader streets start. “Also. He did say he’s growing fond of you.”

“Because you like me. I still need to prove my worth to him.”

You tut.

“Kook, you don’t need to do anything. He’ll come around eventually. Just be you.”

“It’s fine, honestly.” He leans in, nudging your elbow, echoing you with a teasing undertone as he says, “As long as you like me.”

You love it when the initial nature of your relationship breaks through the mist of newfound passion; when you find the foundation of what you were, remembering how you landed here.

Which is why you bite back a laugh the moment you suppress a sassy, teasing remark, as if on reflex. One steer shy from pulling into a parking lot, you breathe out. If you halted here now, you’d kiss him, you’re sure.

But you merely laugh, squinting your eyes as you say, “You’re okay.”

Yoongi’s apartment, now inhabited by only one instead of two people, lies a couple miles from the campus. Jungkook guides you through the streets, jumping from one harmless topic to another — you reach his friend’s place a lot faster than you expected.

The building stands at a quiet place, surrounded by mid-high trees that give the grey colour of the complex a bit of liveliness. You walk to the entrance laughing about something stupid, a subtle nudge of his shoulder here, you pushing against his arm there.

But despite the familiarity and whatever occurred last weekend, it’s still odd jumping into the girlfriend role just yet. The word itself won’t even roll off your tongue very easily so far because you can’t believe a thing about this new reality.

So your hand dangles next to his awkwardly. Your thoughts keep drifting, registering half his sentence at times. What-if situations of gentle kisses and upcoming nights spent together tighten your chest.

Jungkook’s speech is clear and fluent, so you don’t know what your impact on him is exactly. At least he’s made sure you do have one on him — but you still wish you had a map through his mind to understand every thought he houses for you. Every emotion.

On the way up you feel a little dizzy; whether it’s due to the circular shape of the staircase or his proximity, you don’t know. You only realise that something’s still bothering you when you’re halfway up, coming to a halt with one foot on the next step.

“Okay, seriously,” you say, and he turns to you immediately, puzzled as he drops to the same level as you. Close to you.

“What?”

“You said you didn’t wanna leave,” you repeat, still stuck on the hair washing and staying longer thought, “why not?”

The answer could be simple. Could be rooted in emotions and the confessions you later uttered — but there must be something more. You saw it in the brief feeling flashing across his eyes, sitting in the passenger’s seat with silence sealing his lips.

Maybe something happened… because something always happens.

“You’re still thinking about that?” Jungkook questions, eyes wide in disbelief; lips pouting.

“No secrets, right?”

This seems to snap him out of all mysteries, last night’s conversation travelling to the forefront of his mind. But something about your curiosity amuses him. He wraps the fingers of his left hand around the staircase reeling, head dropping with a delicate smile.

His hair hides his eyes, but you know they’re sparkling; voice a mild drizzle when he starts, “It’s…” He draws in, inked digits touching your elbow before moving up your arm absentmindedly. “Don’t worry so much. It’s nothing harmful at all.”

You wait. Let his thumb graze your neck, up to your chin.

He sighs, almost exasperated in a way. “You speak in your sleep, you know?”

Wait. What?

You blink, thoughts disoriented. The staircase is dimly lit, but you recognise the slight upward curve of his lips; more empathetic than teasing.

So you still do?

“Huh?” you make.

“I think you dreamed of waking up a couple times? You hadn’t, though, and it’d always be something about being alone again.”

Again.

The word reverberates through your mind, dragging and stretching. Didn’t you once read that a broken heart is akin to serious rehab, accompanied by withdrawal symptoms and slowly healing scars?

You guess your heart was hurting more than you already knew.

“Okay,” you say, nodding when he does, thumb lifting your head when you drop it. You swallow thickly. “What did I say exactly?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know anymore. Something about me leaving. And I was scared of waking you up while gone ‘cause you’d actually think I’d left.”

You hum. Allow yourself a moment to process the info; you seek out fragments of your dreams, but you draw a blank. You feel guilty about his concerns, yet relieved. Vulnerable. And somewhat reassured.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say.

Your voice is barely above a whisper — less because of the conversation. More because of the touch on your cheek. It’s soft against your skin, and you shiver. The flutter in your chest is only just bearable.

That’s the thing about falling in love. It’s sweet — so much sometimes that it twists your guts. You’re in so deep, you could hurl.

“Nah. You don’t need to worry about this anymore, okay?” he murmurs.

His eyes dig into yours. Dark and shiny through his healthy tresses, livelier than ever. Sincere. 

You, on the other hand, must look unconvinced without intending to, because his mouth aligns with yours soon after.

He exhales, tilting his head, and says, “Look,” leans in, leaves a featherlight kiss against your cheek, right next to his thumb, “I mean it.”

Guess being with him comes with occasional mental blackouts. And regular arrhythmia. The palpitations behind your ribs are almost ridiculous; instead of gripping your own chest, you grasp his shirt immediately.

Lightly, as if you could collapse without this anchor.

He lets you pull him closer just a little, whispering as if someone could hear, “What’s wrong?”

Vulnerability hidden, you blink again, and joke, “Nothing. Just thought you were gonna kiss me.”

Jungkook smiles. His nose brushes against yours, toying a bit, and his bunny teeth make him look somewhat younger when he voices, “You want me to kiss you?”

“I always do.”

Your grin is playful, but your heart is pounding in your chest. Who would’ve thought the journey from a car to an apartment could be so long, so thrilling?

His snicker is gentle and canorous, knees careful against yours. Your heartbeat accelerates some more, rose-tinted lips opting towards their goal. You part your mouth, ready with a deep breath.

But the two of you are always subject to disturbances — so you’re disappointed but not surprised when you hear rushed steps on top of the staircase, strolling down and crossing your path just when Jungkook backs away.

The stranger passes by you with initial surprise in his eyes, not expecting you, but soon gets over it and drops his gaze again. And once he’s gone, Jungkook winks, a hand on your back pushing you forward gently.

“Later,” he says.

You know as you ascend the stairs.

Know that with the ease with which you handle your feelings for each other, you’ll strive towards a future where you won’t be haunted by dreams of being alone. Where you won’t fear his departure, and where his kisses won’t be interrupted by this cruel world.

The building reminds you of when you’d frequent the dorm you used to know. The walls and hallways are similarly built, narrow and somewhat cheap. They look like most buildings from the inside do, honestly, but you like the pleasant illusion the nostalgia brings.

Even the bathrooms are located near the end of the hallways; Jungkook once told you that Tae and Yoongi have their own kitchen, unlike him back when he still housed his dorm. But there’s a communal bathroom here, too; allegedly one reason why Tae moved out.

The only thing that separates this place from Jungkook’s old dorm is the subtle difference in scent. Not pure testosterone.

You smile.

The mood doesn’t match with what you felt back in June at all.

Back when you stomped to Jungkook’s dorm, furious about yet another insignificant issue, you didn’t think your fingers would ever be brushing his like they are now. Or when you escaped the rain and entered the building’s warmth, your umbrella leaving behind a trail of raindrops.

Your relationships, your priorities, your emotions. Your universe changed faster than the seasons.

As you walk past a random door, Jungkook cranes his neck, staring as if he could x-ray-glare a hole into it and glance at what lays behind it. Perhaps he’s thinking back, too.

You don’t know about all the things he experienced throughout the years there. Part of your heart stings because you remember you weren’t the only girl who ever frequented his place.

But you still left an impression — if the current status of your relationship isn’t proof of it, then the sudden touch along the back of your hand certainly is. A thumb following a vein blindly, opting to grasp your palm into his, yet retracting when you finally come to a stand.

The digit caressing your skin lifts to the door, and his knuckles knock three times, rhythmically. Your chest constricts as you jump back into the moment, probably half as nervous as you’d be if you met Jungkook’s parents.

A moment stretches as you wait for Yoongi to open, allowing yourself just another spiralling thought as you imagine actually daring a meeting with Jungkook’s parents. It’s too early to think about it, isn’t it?

It’s just.

Since yesterday, you’ve created a dozen different scenarios in your head, ranging from a civil, calm conversation with his father to a full snap. Half of you wants to know his genuine thoughts on his son’s sorrows; the other half wants to rage and then bolt away.

Ugh.

When the door swings open, your hand flashes to Jungkook’s. A startled instinct, even though nothing about the action was surprising or scary. But he doesn’t mind — of course he doesn’t.

His eyes rush to yours for a second, warm and somewhat thrilled, his smile permanent. And then he looks back at his friend, quietly squeezing your palm, the shy smile soft as he greets, “You’re walking without clutches, huh?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away. He looks from Jungkook to you and back. His gaze isn’t very telling, but you find amusement in it. If you weren’t so ridiculously and inexplicably nervous about his upcoming statement, you’d laugh.

Intently, he grants a peek at your entwined hands, and when he looks at the two of you again, he starts…

Smiling.

Gummies all out, a tiny laugh thrown in between before he says, “Ohoho. You’re here, too?”

The smile turns into a sly grin, a hand clutching the frame of the door. You guess he’s not as balanced after all. Possibly just abandoned his clutches for the short way from the couch to the door.

“I can totally go,” you tell him, the teasing tone missing; soft and small instead.

“Why in the world would you?” Yoongi steps aside carefully, nodding the two of you inside. You oblige, hearing his voice behind you jest, “Now, would you look at that. Did I do that?”

Jungkook automatically drops on the chair at the tiny dining table, like he’s arrived home, and you follow; make yourself comfortable on the seat next to him. There are three chairs, as though carefully chosen for the pair of friends who used to live together and a guest.

Next to you, Jungkook huffs, leaning back as he watches his friend plop onto the chair in front of him, and asks, “How would you’ve done that?”

“Well, you guys gathered at the hospital because of me.”

Right. Good point.

If he just knew how that night played out. Actually, you think he just might, yet not quite aware of its severity.

“Not because of you,” Jungkook promises, “I just charmed her again.”

You laugh. So does Yoongi.

He isn’t irritated or taken aback by the younger’s boldness; in truth, he seems entertained. Arms crossed, eyes small and grin wide. He half mocks, “The young ones are charming for sure these days.”

“Spoken like a true Grandpa,” Jungkook remarks. You press your lips into a thin line, but with a faint smile. You only listen; you’re in the territory of two friends who spend their time roasting each other. You’re not on that level yet, so you observe. “But I had to.”

“You had to, huh?” you joke. Okay, observation broken. Your body tilts towards him. “You didn’t need any of your charm for… this. But still good to know.”

Because you would’ve been putty in his hands, no matter what — charm or not.

"Can confirm," Yoongi agrees, nodding towards his friend, "that he was also a proper mess the last couple weeks. Very out of character."

Your eyes roll to the side to catch a glimpse of him, but the moment you detect the rosy dust on Jungkook's cheeks, you avert your gaze immediately.

Admittedly, the guilt in the middle of your chest is undeniable. But there's comfort in knowing you were never the only half who was deeply, perpetually falling.

Yoongi scratches his temple, doesn't meet your eyes; possibly shy when it comes to conversations like these. But he sounds warm and gentle when he says, "I'm really glad you guys are back."

You’re similarly timid, feeling strange. As if someone’s congratulating you on a fresh marriage. Or maybe that’s just the emotion you want, need to feel.

You say, “Thanks.” And then, ever-so-terrible with compliments, add a little, “Let’s say it was you. Double thank you to the man of the hour.”

Yoongi pulls a grimace hitherto unseen; it doesn’t faze Jungkook, but the Joker-esque grin and wide-eyed nod have you bursting into laughter. His friends are pleasant, you think.

If there was a way to lure Jimin in and convince him of this group’s collective appeal, you wouldn’t hesitate. There’s only a limited time you want him to play the petty, protective friend.

“So, how have you been?” Jungkook eventually asks.

Yoongi rubs the corner of his eye, stretching his injured leg under the table, “Never better. The bank is surviving without me. Besides, I haven’t gotten around to making some music in a while.”

“Tae did tell me you were enjoying your days off.”

Jungkook reacts with a tiny chuckle, but your eyes widen. You let him finish his sentence, and then spit, “Wait, wait. You make music?”

“Oh, I mean… I’m not any good,” he explains, wiggling a hand, a little startled as if he forgot you didn’t know yet. “I just. Make a few beats every now and then and write my own bars and stuff.”

“Wait, rap?” You stare between the boys, to and fro, only a little offended that you didn’t know you had a brooding future musician in your midst. “Can I hea—”

“No.” The answer is immediate. You pout. “Before you ask, I am way too much of a coward.”

“He’s amazing,” Jungkook intrudes.

And you whine, “Unfair, Yoongi.”

He imitates your expression, leaning back, copying your stance, and answers in the same childlike tone, “Warm up to me first! I’ll show it to you one day.”

“One day I’m gon’st hear it,” you declare, overly dramatic with your chin up, “you have my taste in music, you know? I know I’ll like it.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I can try.”

Yoongi blows a raspberry. You’re not sure what you expected; maybe subtle hostility. But the sense of casual camaraderie is refreshing; lounging comfortably in his living room was a picture far from your mind until now, and you think he enjoys the unforeseen gathering, too.

Because after a moment of stillness, a faint smile touches his lips, his voice back to normal and deep as he remarks, “It’s nice that you guys came. I get bored here a lot.”

Right. You kept wondering.

You don’t dive into the matter immediately, instead drenching your voice in a teasing lilt, “Even though Jimin visits you?”

“Shut up.” Mock exasperation rolls his eyes as Jungkook appreciates your joke, one foot pressing against yours under the table. “No. It’s just been lonely since Tae moved out. It’s a two people thing with two bedrooms.”

He shrugs his shoulders, attention fully on you. Jungkook either doesn’t have much to say or doesn’t want to interrupt. Only listens.

“Living here alone feels like I’m wasting space and money,” Yoongi finishes.

Curiosity piqued, you probe, “What did Tae say when he left?”

“He offered to let me move in with him. But that’d be pointless.”

“Why so?”

“He’s awesome for offering, but I think he wanted his own place, you know? Why would I intrude then? But I did tell him I’d look for another place.”

“Have you been?” you ask. You still remember how happy Taehyung looked last time you met him alone.

How he spoke so highly of a life on his own, gladly interrupted by the occasional visits Eun granted him. Yoongi, you think, would probably benefit from acquiring his own place, too — one that doesn’t remind him that someone left him behind, inhabiting a vacant space thought for two.

“Every now and then,” Yoongi admits. “Will think about it some more once my leg’s healed.”

You nod in understanding, a thoughtful hum escaping your lips. Yoongi soon leans forward, naked arms on top of the table, and delves into a discussion about the rising costs of rent.

He outlines the challenges of finding the right place in the bustling city, and explains his worries about the empty space in a too-large apartment. And you listen intently.

But as minutes pass, you can’t help but notice the contemplative silence Jungkook has fallen into.

It’s always the same with him — thoughts you can’t read, questions you need to postpone.

Because you do glance over at him, observe the distracted furrow of his brow, the distant look in his eyes. You understand he’s once again lost in unknown thoughts, and you sense how jumbled his mind must be.

But you still decide to hold off for the moment, out of respect for the ongoing conversation. You don’t focus on addressing his apparent preoccupation until it keeps going until later, way after you’ve bid Yoongi goodbye.

“Why do you seem so reserved?” you ask in the car, his home your new destination.

It must be around quarter past ten; you should still be able to meet Tae within half an hour. Yet, despite the brooding rush, you can’t help but wanna drag out the ride, finish this conversation.

“Hm?” he voices.

Did he not hear you? Maybe.

You sigh, seeking an available parking spot. You’ve already turned into his street, way past the park, halting close to his entrance. The engine dies, sudden silence inside the vehicle.

“Okay,” you turn towards him, forearm against the wheel. “You’re a lot less enthusiastic now. What’s up?”

He looks distracted. Drags his teeth over his full, pink lower lip hard enough for you to repeat, “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Uh.” Cue big boba eyes flitting to you. “I was just. Thinking about something.”

“Wanna share?”

“Yeah. Yeah, uhm. I swear I’m not trying to be mysterious, just. Not sure how to phrase it.”

He’s easing himself into this whole thing. The entire opening up act and being fearless with his feelings. So you don’t push him, but encourage, “Try. If not now, then maybe later, though?”

“No, no. Now is fine.” He frees his eyes off the dark bangs when he shakes his head a little, preparing to voice his hidden thoughts. Then, he breathes, “Yeah, so…”

One more second.

And.

“What if you dropped your plans of moving into that apartment?”

Oh. What?

Does he mean what you think he means…

There are only two options, right? And you choose to go with the one that would embarrass you less if it turned out wrong.

“Should I… do you think I should stay with my family?” you ask, your voice cautious.

But when his hands shoot up, immediately denying your assumption with round eyes, you breathe out through your nose. Relieved when he clarifies, “No, not at all. I mean, it’s up to you, but that’s not what I meant.”

So then…

“So you’re saying—”

He interrupts, rushing before he can back down, “Move in with me. And Yoongi could take the apartment you were considering.”

Fuck. 

You didn’t expect your heart to jump up to your throat like that. It’s a day full of brief heart failures. You barely know how to react anymore.

You stare. Then stare a bit more. And eventually, you simply ask, “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean…” He gulps, averting your gaze all of a sudden before it lands back on yours. You chuckle quietly, unprompted, and it boosts his confidence. “You stayed at mine for days and it worked. It could… you know— keep working.”

The suggestion lingers like a fresh breeze, grazing your cheeks and twirling around you like a soothing force. He beams — though subtle, he seems to interpret the simultaneous rise of your eyebrows and your lips immediately.

Still, he inquires, “I don’t know… too soon?”

Technically yes. But then again, no. Because he’s right — you’ve already experienced a piece of heaven, tasted the bliss of domesticity with Jeon Jungkook.

“You really are serious about this, yeah?”

“Only if you want me to be,” he counters, less tense than before, but a hand rubbing in nervous circles over his knee, “if not, then I was absolutely joking.”

An awkward, little chortle fills the small space of the car; you shake your head, teeth out and smile bright. There’s sweetness in knowing that his affection is real. That the thought of shared future pains, joys and days — that it’s all actually become so unbelievably real.

The car is cool in the shadow, but you feel a strange heat coursing through your body. At the end of the street, you see the sunlight brighten the moment he laughs. Fitting.

The crinkly eye smile softens when he reaches for your hand, pulling it off the wheel and wrapping it in his. There’s an automatic reaction in your chest, a constant racing when he says, “I mean it, though.”

Brief pause. He looks down to your fingers.

“I think I got used to having you there. And then, at Yoongi’s I had this… I don’t know, overwhelming urge to tell you. That,” his teeth worry his lip, releasing it softly, “I want you next to me for as long as possible.”

You understand.

He means every minute that society and norms don’t force you out of the house. At nights and in the mornings, on off days and holidays. To fall asleep next to his presence, to wake up on the same mattress, too.

And the longing is undeniable; you know that it is. But you’re already swamped with decisions as it is — could you call off the apartment right here, right now? Rethink all you discussed with the landlord, Taehyung or yourself?

Life decisions are harder than that, and despite all the wants infiltrating your body, you can’t dive into this without a couple more following thoughts.

You keep gazing into his smouldering eyes, more intense when he looks up. Let their effect send a thrill down your spin, a surge of yearning through your veins. 

And then, you acknowledge the need for prudence. You savour the moment, let the anticipation built, and flash a sultry smile to ensure that, yes, if not now, then one damn day, I’ll be yours entirely.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything to work more than this,” you admit, “but I need to—”

You halt. Words come hard to you these days; and the two of you are sensitive. It’s not easy to reunite after weeks of overthinking and distance; and you don’t want to provide more reasons to overthink.

But you forget that as sensitive as Jungkook is, he’s just as understanding and gentle, too.

Because he says, “You need to think. And I know you can’t just pack your things and move over, I just— I wanted it out there.”

“I know. I know.”

“And I,” he continues, “I actually thought you were gonna say no right away since you’re getting out of your childhood home just now, so naturally, you would wanna be alone for a while and—”

You lean forward, pulling your hands out of his grip. His eyes shoot down, baffled and confused, but you don’t give him a second to think or speak. In a moment’s notice, his cheeks are squished between your palms, his bunny face now akin to a duck.

“I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone all my life,” you tell him; Jungkook eyebrows furrow in empathy and worry, but you smile, “I don’t wanna be anymore.”

His expression and voice are dorky when he speaks, first words incomprehensible. You let go, watching the red splotches on his cheek, and he repeats, “Is that a yes?”

“It’s… I don’t know. A to be continued.”

“I’ll live with that.”

You don’t know if it’s the electrifying prospect of a life together or the confidence he follows his statement up with, but the insanity burns wild in your head. Untamed and dizzying.

“And I’ll wait for however long.”

“I didn’t even ask, I’m sorry… but are you starting work later today?”

You stand in the middle of Taehyung’s living room, a hand over your eyes to protect them from the bright sunlight. He’s busy piling the saucers and the cups, and you wait as he drags a vocal in thought.

“No, no. I’m off today.” He stands, and you automatically walk the short distance to the kitchen, lingering at the door frame. “Need the afternoon for an appointment at the doc. So yeah.”

“Oh. Everything okay?”

He doesn’t speak yet, dishes in the wash basin too loud. They clink and rattle; the moment you’ll move to an apartment by yourself, you’ll have to wash them yourself, too.

Maybe you can make your place as aesthetically pleasing and beige as Taehyung did. You don’t know — you couldn’t imagine much today nor discuss further details about the contract and rent and general house rules.

The landlord bailed on you last second. And Taehyung sacrificed over an hour that he could’ve spent keeping Eun company between her morning lessons.

You apologised the second you entered his apartment instead, thankful for the invitation to tea, yet harbouring guilt for wasting his time. But Taehyung proved incredibly kind, waving off your concerns immediately.

He asked, playfully offended, “So you’re saying a tea party with me is a waste of time?” And then he laughed, immediately shaking his head, “Nah. It’s fine. Am glad someone finally prefers tea over coffee, too.”

So now you’re here.

“Yeah, just a check up,” Taehyung answers, “vamps drew my blood and will tell me today if it’s good or not.”

“Interesting way to refer to doctors,” you admit, backing away when he leads you to the exit. You need to be at work in forty minutes tops. “Good then.”

He hands you your blazer, silent for a moment before he says, “Talking about feeling unwell.” You look up, arm halfway through the blazer’s sleeve. “What were you doing getting shitfaced like that?”

“Uhm…”

Word travels fast. Your cheeks heat up, fingers curling into fists. You smack your lips, letting out a tiny laugh, and ask, “Eun told you, huh?”

“Mhm. Scolded her for taking you to the bar and leaving you alone.”

You sigh.

You should’ve guessed that she’d tattle. And of course you might appear like the helpless, heartbroken girl, seeking comfort in alcohol, dark clubs and blue neon lights. It’s a little embarrassing, actually.

“Kook was there, though,” you defend.

“I know. I called when he was still at your place.”

Huh? What else did he do when you were asleep? Painted a Louvre-ripe masterpiece, probably.

Taehyung decodes the dozen questions in your stare, tumbling until his back leans against the wall. He explains, “We just talked for a sec. He sounded worried, so I didn’t prod too much. Just don’t do these things anymore, okay?”

Huh…

You can imagine it well. Partly because you remember the way he looked at you that night: distressed beyond belief, giving you soft orders, insisting on help everywhere — the car, the shower, the bed.

But also because you know him.

And you don’t think you needed to see him in those very moments to know he must’ve brushed through his silky hair. Must’ve looked through your room, gaze stopping over your sleeping figure.

Voice strained on the phone, yawning, shaking his head because he must have been a little mad at you, but comforted that you were resting, too.

You remember the tone of his voice, soft as a piano tune but saddened nonetheless.

”What did you drink? You’re… in such a bad state.”

You shake the words off. God, he was there for you more than you’ll ever know.

You say, “That’s nice, though, Tae… I didn’t think you’d ever get so worried about me.”

“Hey. You’re still my friend,” he promises.

He’s possibly been the only person throughout this entire ordeal to not be pissed at you or annoyed by you. You never doubted that he still liked you.

“I might not know you inside out like Eun or Jungkook do, but you’re part of this group. So naturally, you’re important, too.”

You push your hands into the pockets of the blazer, gripping the car keys inside. Bashfully, you smile. His sincerity pumps warmth through you; it’s crazy how good belonging somewhere, to someone, can actually feel.

It’s refreshing. New. 

“Wow,” you murmur, shuffling your feet, “thank you.”

“You’re glowing, you know. That’s nice.”

“Am I?”

He nods. “I can’t wait to see him glow either. A couple weeks were a couple too long.”

Those couple weeks felt like someone ripped out the hands of time, keeping them from moving. Your brain aged faster in that time, deep in a bottomless abyss. You don’t want to experience it again.

And you don’t want to imagine Jungkook in the same pit again. Looking for you, but bumping against walls, painted with his past that made him stumble back instead of pulling him forwards.

Your eyes trail down the hallway, looking at the small paintings and decorations on the wall. You take in the furniture, inhale the pleasant colours. Imagine his living room in its entirety, the sunlight seeping through the windows. Curtains pushed aside.

Your apartment could be like this, too.

But.

“Tae,” you begin. You wrap your fingers around your rattling car key; lick your lips. “Do you think I’d like it here?”

“Hmmm,” he voices, gazing down as if he could look past the parquet floor and to where your potential apartment stands nearly empty. “Yeah. I mean, I like to think so, because I’m very happy here.”

He stops abruptly, the tone of the last syllable not matching a sentence’s end. You wait as he smiles a little, creating a thought, “But you could be happy somewhere else, too. Happier even.”

His words hang in the air, a sense of both possibility and uncertainty tangible. You were wanting to venture into this new chapter of your life with hope, but also with trepidation.

Suburban areas are nice, but you opted for the heart of the city — the vibrant tapestry of dreams and opportunities. You didn’t expect the journey to be fraught with sudden doubts.

The best thing, however, is that doubts and dilemmas never seemed this… tempting.

You tell him, “There’s always a place that makes people happier, for everyone.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice tinged with wisdom. “Only, some people already know of it, and some keep searching for it.”

“And I am—”

You pause, anticipating for him to finish the sentence; he responds, “You gotta know.” There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, support and acknowledgment hiding right behind — matching his words, “I’d be bummed if you didn’t become my neighbour, but. Also just happy you guys are happy.”

Too kind for this world.

In your endearment, you laugh, suddenly stepping forward for a brief, thankful hug. A silent gesture of gratitude for his friendship, no matter how shallow or new.

The people you surround yourself with offer endless reassurance, and you’re lacking the words to express your appreciation.

“Thank you, Tae. Eun’s right when she praises your constant respect for other people, you know?”

Taehyung, maybe a little perplexed, brings a hand to your back, patting gently as he states, “No worries. The worst is over.”

You hope so. God, you genuinely hope so.

You pull back, tucking your hair behind your ear and bid him goodbye with one last nod. Taehyung closes the door behind you with a humorous thumbs up, and you grin before it’s silent in the hallway again.

There’s a tiny window outside, overlooking the street down there and the cars flitting by. The area isn’t as peaceful as Jungkook’s — more lively and noisy. You can see the city’s river if you look far enough.

And as you step closer to the glass, you envision your own apartment again. You imagine the soft glow of the lamp before you go to sleep. The comfortable couch you want to plant in the back of the living room, curling up with work or your laptop or a cup of hot chocolate.

You picture the view of the city as you step to your open window, glancing out as the steam of your beverage swirls in the evening air. Contemplating the world outside.

But then you start rethinking Jungkook’s words, too. The idea of belonging and happiness, of domesticity and what could be.

And at last, you visualise what it’d be like if you didn’t see any of this — the lively street, the river in the distance. Wonder how you’d feel if the horizon looked different.

If you stared out and saw a different canvas instead.

The changes in your life are drastic in some way, but Jungkook always stays the same.

Your house lies quiet most of the time; as days pass, you frequent your room, then drop by in the living room, greeting the staff, grabbing dinner and retracting back to your beloved bed.

Jungkook’s apartment, baby-sized compared to your place, allows a much livelier atmosphere. Maybe because you don’t need to yell for him to hear you from another room. Or maybe because it’s just the two of you.

Perhaps even because you find solace in the couch, in the smaller smart TV in front of it, the glass table, the carpet, the homely furniture in general. The scent reminds you of wood, but you connect it with him, too.

It’s different from the room you grew up in. Different from the luxurious chimney and marble you’ve seen all your life.  And you must admit that you enjoy it a lot more, too.

One of the few reasons why your mood changes from exhausted to merry the moment you knock at his door on Thursday. He was expecting you, because when he opens, he beckons you inside immediately, pulling you in and planting a generous kiss on your cheek.

A smooching sound accompanies it, his foot closing the door as he suggests, “Dinner first or TV?”

“Shoes.” You laugh. You slip out of your thin jacket before tackling your snickers quickly, your clothes suddenly itchy and uncomfortable. “Shoes first, and then shower? Can I?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s not the first time that you’d be doing it. But there’s still something new and pure about this new chapter of your life; one that comes with polite questions and reinventing reality, apparently.

Redrafting life as you knew it and striving towards something better.

“I knew it, actually,” he says, forefinger wiggling, “I put a fresh towel on the washing machine. Also had a handful of your shirts here, so there’s one of those on the towel, too. And my joggers… Sorry, you left none of those, uhm—”

He’s started walking ahead, scratching behind his ear, but when he notices you not following, he looks over his shoulder. Blinks at you, staring into his living room and back, innocent voice unsure, “Come?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just— you didn’t have t—”

“I know,” he interrupts, breathing a sigh in faux frustration, “I know I never have to. But I figured you’d wanna shower.”

“…Thank you, Kook.”

You wish you could say more; express your gratitude the way you want to. At least your body is jubilating, craving the hot steam of the shower. Starving further for some peace when you step into the bathroom and detect the neatly placed clothing.

Jungkook halts at the door, gripping its frame, a little shy as if you didn’t breathe each other in for the last couple of weeks and months. He’s looking at you, waiting for something, and when you raise an eyebrow in curiosity, he snaps out of whatever daydream he was in.

“Oh. Right,” he mumbles, cheeks flushed, “sorry. I’ll leave. Can heat up the food. Or, or do you wanna order in?”

“Anything’s fine.” He nods. Opts to walk away, big hand flattening his hair at the back. It takes a moment for your heart to riot as you watch him leave, immediately babbling, “Actually. I was—”

Returning within a moment, he looks alarmed. Less so when you point a thumb to the shower and suggest, “Do you wanna join?”

“You in the shower?”

No, doofus. Join to watch the washing machine unsoil your sweaty clothes.

You clear your throat. “Yeah?”

“I uhm… Is that okay?”

Goddamn. Redrafting life as you knew it, you said.

You just didn’t expect the two of you to still tip-toe around each other. Seems you still have a lot of adjusting to do.

You try to break the ice.

“Acting like I’ve never seen you naked.”

“No, I know,” he responds, “I was just thinking that you…”

You can’t quite decrypt what he’s trying to say, but you do perceive the flash of concern in his eyes. It’s a tiny glimpse, barely there; but you see it. And you think about it.

Try to understand, let moments pass — until you’ve grasped his thinking.

The night he helped you clean up was the last time you stood under a showerhead together; maybe he thinks you’re still connecting it to the night’s trauma or borderline dangerous intoxication. And perhaps you’re wrong.

But you still take a breath, and then segue, “Already took a shower, didn’t you?”

You know he did. He’s addicted to cleanliness, sensitive to scents; he hoards diffusers, skin care products and new underwear like a treasure. And showering is always the first thing he goes for, a beeline to the bathroom after work out sessions and intense summer days.

You follow up with, “It’s okay, if you did. I’ll just go alone and hurry to dinner, then?”

“No, no… No, it’s fine.” He starts his sentence fast, but slows down halfway through, awkwardly. “Of course I can join. What’s some extra refreshment, right?”

“That’s the reason, huh?” you mock, laughing when he shrugs his shoulder. “Keep acting like you’re not the biggest simp around.”

Your confidence boosts his own, too. The signature smile is soft, lips curved gorgeously, but the subtone of his words is teasing, and even a little cocky.

“Of course. I know, I know.”

“Come then.”

You offer a stretched hand, curling your fingers in and outwards, and he places his warm palm into it like a key to a lock. Albeit tense and nervous, your body feels good next to his. The telltale awkward signs of a new relationship don’t deter you from indulging in its sweetness.

So you’re not surprised at how quickly you undress, throwing each other’s clothes at the back of the washing machine and planting kisses whenever one of you bares their shoulder. Eyeing each other from bottom to top.

You think you ogle for a moment too long, though — and how could you not with the freaking silver chain dangling from his neck?

An exciting evening lies ahead, you can already tell.

It’s fresher now outside, and all of Jungkook’s windows are open. Despite the cosiness of the bathroom, you rush under the hot shower stream.

Only, it’s not as boiling as you’d like it to be. Jungkook starts and finishes his showers ice cold, so you screech when you meet water from the Antarctic. You jump on your spot, arms around your torso.

And when you allow yourself one single glance at him amidst the breathlessness, you notice that the asshole is doing it on purpose. Same old. Rouses core memories.

Jungkook wipes over your hair and your face, drenching them thoroughly. You only realise he’s smudged your mascara when he starts rubbing underneath your eyes gently, managing to get some of it off.

“Fuck,” you curse, “I forgot about that. Should I take it off first?”

The intention is to slip out, use one of his cleansing skin products and get the mess out of your face before stepping back to him. But you don’t make it far anyway; he yanks you back before your foot can even touch the mat.

And then, the moment passes in a blur.

Tense body back against his, he tugs you close. Holds both your wrists in front of your breasts, leaning in without a warning, and then — connects his dripping lips with yours.

If there was any space to gasp, you would. Instead, your fingers instantly dig into your hand, sharp nails scarring the skin. You move your fists, trying to touch him, but he holds you in place firmly.

That is, until his digits relax, trailing up your shoulder to your neck, jaw and then to your cheeks. Face in your grip, you let him control the pace. You find an anchor in his bicep, holding on; kissing isn’t enough.

You wish he could eat you up. Wish the tongue finally touching yours, swirling around it, was everywhere on your skin at once.

You feel a slight twitch underneath, right against your body; ready to devour, hopefully soon to explode. But Jungkook gasps for air when his lungs give out, allowing a break, backing away with your face still between his hands.

And then, he utters something surprising — something you didn’t expect in the heat of the moment at all.

“I was meaning to tell you something.”

“…Oh?”

“I’m uh. I’ve been meaning to tell you for days. I just never quite got around to it and we were so busy and tired all the time and—”

“What is it?” you break in, heart pounding at an unnatural speed. “I’m here now, so…?”

For a second, you expect this to take a whole different turn.

The database in your brain empties the moment you scour it for an answer, preparing yourself for molten knees and dissolving hearts. Or maybe, it’s already clarifying to liquid, jumping out of your chest and flowing down the drain along with the water.

But he doesn’t say what you anticipate. Though, what he does admit has your nerves glowing neon white anyway.

“So— the first night of my showcase. On my birthday?” he starts. You feel the muscles of your face change, and he sees it, immediately assuring, “No, no. Don’t worry. I was just gonna say that a guy came to me by the end of it? And—” 

He lets all of it sound like an unsure question. But you think you know where it’s going — you hold your breath under the already suffocating water.

“And?” you prod.

“And turned out Namjoon invited him, and he’s kiiiinda a big shot in the art business? Like, he’s a gallery collector, he said. He’d invest in my art and acquire it and have it showcased in bigger museums for more recogni— I know!”

Your mouth and eyes opened halfway through his quick explanation, fingers back in fists, pressing against his solid chest and then moving up to hook in his silver chain. You’re restless in the congested space, suppressing the high pitched sounds.

He puts his hands on your hips, snickering in joy as he says, “Be careful before you slip.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Thankfully I’m not, angel,” he shakes his head, bangs sticking to his forehead, “not this time, at least.”

You raise a hand to his pec, tapping against it, “Wait. So just so I understood correctly — they’re gonna put up your stuff there for an even bigger audience to see, yeah?”

“I mean, the gallery is definitely far bigger than the exhibition I participated in.”

“Oh my god, Jungkook, the exhibition already had a shit ton of visitors!”

He nods, proving a point.

You feel an electric current in your blood. Pride, that’s what it’s called, too. You sling your arms around his neck recklessly, nearly falling, but you can’t be bothered as you exclaim, “This is so— I don’t even know how to react, Kook!”

And who could convince a big-shot art connoisseur so quickly after graduation anyway? Jungkook’s god given talents are never praised for nothing — you knew it. Fucking knew it.

Won’t make it anywhere, your ass.

“That’s so fucking awesome.” You stare, out of breath all of a sudden. God, if there was a way to express your delight. “When is it happening? Are you selling the one you showcased?”

“I don’t know yet. And no. That’s too… personal to me.” You blink, nodding. Still overwhelmed with how his pieces made you feel — of course they’d hit even harder for the artist himself. “He wants something in a similar style, though. I’ll make something new for him.”

“What’s it gonna be?”

It’s a simple question. You swear it’s nothing too deep.

But Jungkook’s gaze changes. An amused, delighted expression replaces a neutral one, head tilting to the side just a little. His lips, already slightly swollen from the kiss, move up, eyes kind and sugary.

If you only knew how your small details affect him, too. How you looking at him like this, expectant eyes split wide, innocent and gentle, shoots an arrow to his heart.

You just don’t know.

He brushes the hair sticking to your cheek back and tells you, “You’ll see. I’ve been working on it these days, but. Will show it to you when it’s done.”

You can’t even be mad. If it was up to you, you’d probably wait for the big day, too — can’t spoil the surprise, need to cry tears of pride and joy in public.

So all you say, deep from the heart, is, “You’re the fucking coolest person I know.”

“Nah—”

“The coolest.”

“Funny,” he retorts, as bad at compliments as you; throws them back like a boomerang, “thought the same when I met you at the party last year.”

“…Gross.” That’s what you say. But you still shake your head; overwhelmed, smile plastered to your face and cheeks hurting. “God, Kook.”

And that’s all.

You keep holding his stare, finally too tired of the distance to endure any longer — and then lean in. You stop a couple inches away, watch his head angle more, mouth steering towards yours. The smile is mutual, fingers seeking a spot to settle on on each other’s bodies.

Your heart monitor would be wilding right now — the effect of your lips meeting clear as day behind your ribs. And this time, you don’t stop.

The push against his chest is immediate, his feet slowly tumbling backwards. His tongue burns hot against yours, your lower lip fitting perfectly in the gap between his lips. There’s a sharp hiss when his back finally touches the tiles, mouth open but not leaving yours.

Teeth soon clash, and you opt for more of his taste, well aware that you just cannot kiss more than you already are. His hands move up and down, never settling, both your lips harsh and impatient. Your tongues keep moving in patterns, thirst never quenched.

You break the kiss solely for oxygen purposes, but he uses the moment to let his palm wander from your face to your hair, grabbing a patch. One hand pushes against the small of your back, though soon dropping to your ass, fingers between your ass cheeks, teasing the clenching hole.

Fuck.

The moan isn’t intended, but very welcome — you love the sound of it as much as he does, followed by his own. An automatic reaction. His hips indulge in the tiniest movements, length jerking against your body; no more than an inch of his fingertip pushing into your ass.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, eyebrows furrowing, mewling against the corner of his lips. “More, now, please.”

It’s an attempt. Of course he won’t act that fast — you know him well enough. He’s been a soft gentleman often enough; but after holding back the past few days, missing it for weeks, you know it won't be easy on him either.

One of you will be on the brink of tears soon; until now, it’s usually been you.

You take a deep breath, agitated when he laughs. He retracts his hand, smoothing back his chaotic mane before leaning in for another peck. And that’s all it remains — interrupted immediately, saliva mixing with the shower water.

“I’m so fucking crazy for you,” he confesses; the shiver doesn’t hesitate crawling down your spine — neither does Jungkook, peppering your neck with kisses.

His actions are smooth — you let him do anything. Like, explore every little spot of your skin. From the softness of your face, down to the flesh of your ass, echoing hard when a flat hand slaps it out of nowhere.

You propel forwards, barely aware of your surroundings. The shower raining onto you is the only indicator of where you still are.

So when he turns you carefully, 180 until your back touches the tiles, you don’t realise his intentions for a moment. Only when he changes his approach, digging your shoulders hard into the wall, knocking you out of breath.

“Are you trying to—” you ask, but he interjects right away.

“Don’t question it this time, okay?” His face inches close again, teeth suddenly pulling and nibbling at your lip. “Just let us do. Lemme do, yeah?”

His chest presses against your tits before he backs away and palms your mounds, squeezing nearly painfully.

For only a heartbeat, though — he doesn’t stall further. Because another second passes before you’re turned in his grip, chest not touching his anymore, but the wall now. From behind you, he grasps your hips, dragging you back just a couple inches; enough to sneak his hand through.

“But whenever things get too much, you…”

You nod. Promise, “Will tell you. I will.”

“Good.” His cock pokes between your ass, and he spreads its cheeks. Lets the hardness rest between them, sliding up and down. “Gonna make you feel so good, though. Wanna make you feel so fucking good.”

Wow… wow, f—

Not that you were ever interested in it before, but…

Part of you wants him to shove it in anywhere. Wherever the fuck he wants. You’d endure all hour-long foreplay and pleas and tears for him.

And perhaps he’s thinking the same. Perhaps you even spoke it out loud — you wouldn’t be surprised if you did. But you choke on your spit when he says, “Missing the sex toys. Like… What do you think of new ones, hm? Someday, maybe. Like— like an anal pl—”

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll do fucking anything for you.”

Break in conversation. Then, “Holy shit.” He chuckles. Fuck — his voice is deeper now, isn’t it? “You’re being whiny. I thought you’re a badass business woman, but you’re so whiny.”

“Because— I can breathe when I work.”

“Ohh. And now,” he whispers, close to your ear, hand moving. Up and further up, stopping around your throat, as if he’s testing your statement. As if he could tell him anything about the state of your lungs. “Now we’re not as focused, right?”

“No thinking when I suck your dick.”

“Dammit. Really don’t wanna wait to fuck you numb.”

You’re shamelessly jittery, patience out the window. “Don’t then. Get to it now.”

“Nope. I know you’re not ready yet. And I’m not either… so—”

He steps closer, forcing your body further forward until your cheek is squished against the wall. His fingers leave your throat to find another target; something far more south, a lot more dangerous.

One small circle drawn around your clit, you gasp, hearing him ask, “You think you can come with just my fingers?”

“I don’t know. I honestly think I need—”

He chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, too. You’re hilarious sometimes.

“You think you’re so smart. But we can still try, though.” He says it casually, as if the two of you don’t exactly know that he’s perfectly capable of pulling through. But his voice still softens when you don’t answer, “Hey. You wanna try, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Anything,” you convince him, “anything, Kook.”

“Good girl. The best, always.”

His touch vanishes. You let out a mildly confused sound, observing with an unfocused vision how he opens the shower door a little. He reaches for the towel on the washing machine, drying his fingers, other hand moving the shower head until it’s mostly wetting his own back.

It’s a tiny detail, really. You only told him once how action around the clit might become uncomfortable with hands priorly washed or wet, and it seems he remembered.

Your eyes shut when he returns to your bundle of nerves, massaging gently, skilled. It starts slow at first; you feel the hot wetness build in and around your entrance, the line between the shower water and your arousal fading.

Jungkook’s movements, calculated and systematic, only spur your body on. He’s always known what he’s doing; has analysed and explored what you want. How you want it.

It’s true heaven to you: the way he kisses your cheek. The way he draws moans out of you, the motions around your swollen bud rhythmic. Your back and limbs tingle; you don’t know what to do with yourself.

And when you can’t stand still anymore, Jungkook orders, “Stop that. You’ll break my jaw.”

“Sorry.”

Your apology is timid, tiny; he laughs. “You cutie… you’re adorable even in moments like these.”

You throw your head against his shoulder as if to oppose him, opening your eyes, looking straight into his eyes. Your eyebrows are kissing, tension between them, mouth agape.

And he adds, “Or maybe not.”

He lifts you up a bit, dragging your body along the wall — you didn’t even notice that you slid down this much, angled, ass darting out like this. But you also don’t mind the arm that rounds your torso, just underneath your tits, keeping you steady when he takes it up a notch and—

“Oh my god,” you squeak when he pushes two fingers in. “Yes, yes, please—”

The incoherent, random requests are his favourite. Most of the time, he knows better than you what you’re pleading for. Which is why he doesn’t stop this time; probably more in the mood to please you than tease you.

From this position, he can’t reach knuckles deep, but just enough to brush the walnutty spot inside. And to your surprise, the orgasm builds up fast; the first quiver takes over your knees, but you understand that this is nothing compared to what’s to come.

You press your hands to the wall, holding onto remnants of your sanity when he kisses your neck, and along your damp shoulders. His mouth is hot against your pulse, wet hair tickling under your jaw. He bites lightly; soothes the fleeting sting with his tongue. Vampiristic.

Like a sensual massage, well thought out, pornographic.

And then he picks up on pace. Whispers, “That’s right— we got this—”

He starts pumping into you; relishes your incomprehensible curses. The thumb over your clit and the impatience of his fingers inside are a dichotomy, and you don’t know what to focus on. Which is why you stop thinking altogether.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath, quiet whistling sounds included, and then groans into your ear when you do. He keeps his motions up diligently, fingers a bit deeper with each time your ass moves back an inch.

As an aid, he shifts his arm, too, pushing forward, palm pressing against your clit now.

And when you come, you melt. Nearly collapsing, you keep moving, on edge, every spot of your body in tremor. You can barely breathe; you’ve been nestled in the heat of the shower for way too long.

He notices your tremble in an instant, encourages, “Got it. Got you. Keep going, baby, c’mon.”

The peak is blissful; you don’t want to ever fall off the edge again. Want to remain in this starry, gorgeous ache. Your eyes could stay in the back of your head; the world may keep fading. And you don’t need to know where you are.

All you know is that your voice sounds odd, high when you pant, “Don’t go away yet.”

“I’m right here. Right here, got you,” he repeats, holding you upright.

Jungkook knows — knows how to get you from lowest lows to your highest highs. Today was as pleasant as a day at work can be; but if he’s ready to do all this to you on any other, worse day, too, you might never encounter grief again.

He scatters kisses all over your jaw when you’re done — busies himself as you catch your breath, swallowing, eyes closed. Once you’ve caught yourself enough to utter fragments of sentences at least, you tell him, “Something not human about you, Jeon.”

“Oh. Are we back to surnames now?” He cackles, soothing motions along your arms. “Are we gonna shake hands, too, once we’re done? Bow and say thank you?”

You shake your head, though the stupid smile doesn’t wait to spread on your face.

“You’re dumb,” you say.

“You make me dumb.”

He drops his touch, brushing your pussy again — maybe as a test. But you’re sensitive and vulnerable, closing your legs and opening your mouth in response. He’s sly; uses the moment to push two fingers in right away, pressing your tongue down.

And you, as challenge-accepting as ever, start sucking, tasting some of yourself. You wrap your hand around his, moving your head, chest still heaving from the exhaustion. Your eyes close slowly enough for him to see them roll back, a reaction to the images your brain creates.

Like, the thought of the member currently poking you replacing those digits. The prospect of emptying him entirely.

“Fuuuuck— wish my brain could take a picture of this and save it forever,” he says, voice strained.

You open your mouth, licking a strip along his finger, past the tattoo. “What’d you do with it?”

“Would… would bring it to the forefront of my mind,” Jungkook begins, reclaiming his hand and dragging it down to your waist, “and use it whenever you’re away.”

“Hmmm… and then?”

“Would just…”

He doesn’t continue. Only shakes his head, lifting his shoulders, stance desperate and wanting; maybe he’s even a little out of his mind.

You egg him on, “Show me if you can’t say it.”

It’s a surprise that he obliges, but then again, it’s not. You always forget just how weak he is — that his heart sits right there in your palms, his body a magnet to yours.

So you’re endlessly pleased when your eyes flit down to a hand around his dick. Stroking slowly, its head hard against your pelvis. And you manage to watch a tiny second longer until the floor beckons you towards it, down to your knees.

It’s uncomfortable immediately; slick and odd. But you’re distracted by your dry tongue, thirsting, ridiculously hypnotised by the cock dangling in front of you. And then his thighs… muscular and thick. You reach out to them, holding them, steering forwards.

Despite his delicate frailty, you don’t fare any better. Ready to bruise your knees like an obedient doll, eyes wide when you look up at him. You grip him softly, urging him to remove his hand, stroking in his stead.

You pass all pleasantries and hesitations, and dive in immediately — leading your mouth to the tip before wrapping your lips around it delicately. Determined, you let only a second pass, eager as you start moving right away.

Bobbing your head, you take him in as much as your gag reflex allows. He’s too big — it’s impossible to ever swallow him fully. But no matter how greedy you are, that’s it.

You don’t give into it all the way just yet.

Instead, you back away after another lick. Straighten your body, drawing in and repositioning until you can push your tits together around the stiffness.

His groan tumbles out of him broken, choked, a hand against the wall. His abs are rippling, bicep bulged, nipples tiny and perked. Dark brown. Eyes hazy.

You want to do so many fucking things to him — want to mount him. Pull his head back by his long strands. Want, need to kiss him, rub yourself on him, back and forth along his cock until his moans become uncontrolled. Sticky white cum sprayed over his tummy.

Your nails in your skin, yearning for more — that’s one of your billion thoughts.

Instead, you summarise your wants, whispering a single, simple, fucked out, “I…” You gulp down the knot. Shiver at your position, craving the hot water a little now. Then command, “Fuck my mouth.”

His eyes threaten to fall out of his head; like they always do. He knows it’s a constant reaction, too, it seems, because, “God. I’ll never get used to you saying this.”

“You better, though.”

“Right. Right…”

He caresses your face, pushes your hair back. Perhaps he’s had enough of the pace; because he soon reaches for your arms, compliant deer kicked out of his head as he forces your wrists up and crosses them against the wall.

One hand is all he needs to hold them in their place. One hand gripping them hard, disabling any movement of your arms.

You let out a strange, obscene sound, finding utter liking in this gesture.

But despite your pleasure, he still eases you into the process, the heart tattoo grazing your cheek. A touch so soft that you think he’s praising you, wordlessly and gently. Making sure you’re absolutely okay with whatever he does to you.

And you confirm it with another blink, stretching out your tongue, ready. Holding his gaze. Mesmerised and frustrated, he says, “You’ll kill me with the way you look at me.”

Jungkook fuels your confidence with vigour each time, eloquent through scorching heat, too. Because you don’t think you’ve ever smiled this self-assured before you knew him; or been certain about your power over others.

You used to be far more insecure than that, feigning ignorance and carelessness, but reevaluating your decisions every step of the way. Months ago, you could’ve never predicted such a shift in conviction towards yourself.

So it’s new to you, but invigorating at the same time, the grin you sport, the words you utter, “Killing you isn’t my intention,” when he doesn’t, you move your head towards the leaking head of his cock, awaiting destruction, “wanna make you feel more alive than ever.”

The breath tumbling out of his mouth is ragged, pinky finger twitching a tiny bit when you wrap your lips around the tip and then let it go with a plop again; like it’s a lollipop to you.

Your knees move closer to his feet, and he stretches his one hand to your shoulder, making sure you don’t get hurt on the slippery ground. But you’re far too distracted to appreciate the gesture just yet, even though you feel the faint tickling along your limbs.

“I got it,” Jungkook then says, back in charge, hands back on the protruding, thick veins.

He moves his hips forward, testing. You roll out your tongue once more, closing your eyes. Try to make more room in your mouth, despite knowing it’s a thing of impossibility. And to your chagrin, it takes only a few more seconds for you to be full already.

Taking in as much as your throat allows, you gag when you reach your limit, letting out a tiny cough, salivating. You still can’t move your arms; his fingers are like chains around your wrists.

“That enough?” he asks. “I’ll stop here, okay?”

You nod. Wait. When he doesn’t move, you start pulling back, and then push forward again immediately. Your tongue is drenched in absolute filth; the spit trails down your chin, and you wish it was his.

But that’s not the point of it all — you’re not supposed to comfortably bop your head back and forth, are you? Despite the daily softness between the two of you, you want to be used. Want all his greed.

And he knows. Asks, “What do you need?”

Of course you can’t speak. He’s aware of that; stares down at you as you breathe heavily around him, mouth stuffed to the brim. Cheeks aching from the circumference.

You moan around him, parting your lips, moving your tongue from under his dick to swirl it around it a little. You move back, tasting the liquid minimally dripping out of his slit. Fuck, you want all of it, in thick, sickening ropes, in loads and buckets.

“Won’t even back away to speak,” he teases, words contradictory, because he won’t allow you to take a break either. Shoves himself inside again; you’re embarrassed that you only manage half of his length. “The dedication is hotter than it should be—”

Full, coherent sentences. How?

But even his string of thought breaks when he starts in earnest. Filling up your mouth once more, as much as he can and then a bit more for good measure. You adjust to his movements, suck down immediately.

You don’t care about the loss of voice later; you want to eat him up entirely.

His strokes grow harder by the second, rock hard inside you. You move your head until the head pokes against the inside of your cheek, and the tight wetness affects him, his knees buckling by one single inch.

“Easy…” he whispers, shaking his head, water drops landing on your face. “Fuck. Wanna have you hanging off the bed one day. Wanna see my cock ram your throat…”

Easy, he said. He’s definitely not being easy on you, though. Not with these admissions. Not with his motions.

The thrusts aren’t just hard, but deliberate and controlled, too. Your head keeps pushing back, lightly touching the wall. You’re far over sucking his dick, way too obedient and submissive to define it like that.

No, you’re being fucked. Gagging and choking around him, sucking in the spit whenever only his tip remains inside, sounds lewd and specific. Coming from the back of your throat, wet, hot and bothered.

God, you wish you were strong enough to take him all the way down to the base, licking at his balls, feeling his twitching dick thumping at the very far back. But you guess this is more than enough for him, too.

Because he holds your wrists harder, a rope around them, digging into your skin. The free hand wipes your hair away again, your body sweat-soaked while the shower water still trickles down his back.

He holds you there; then reaches for your nipple; pinches it hard over your heavily heaving chest, pleased when you open your eyes and look up at him. Waterline damp — the dangling chain might just be one of the reasons for that.

“Bit more,” he mumbles, and you think he’ll surrender right there, inside your mouth.

Which is why you sit up straighter, more determined, licking at the underside of his cock when he drags it out a little. His balls hang in your face and you reach for them, tongueing, hungry, not wanting him to move away now.

He doesn’t. Not yet. Relief courses through you, swallowing around his thickness again. Rolling your eyes back, hearing subtle “Doing well, so well, angel”s, ignoring the pain in your arms as he holds them upright.

You hollow your cheeks when he buries himself in deep, struggling when he stops right there. He doesn’t move; your eyes well up harder. All air enters and escapes through your nose, and you’re shaking, holding his stare as he keeps his cock in place, absolutely still.

That is, until you can barely breathe anymore, nails digging into your palms, arms trying to escape. He doesn’t say a word yet, only lets your hands drop. Your shoulders crack a bit, and you shake your arms, filling up your lungs, your palms next to his feet.

His cock is covered in your spit when you look again; your gaping mouth and chin similarly drenched.

And only when your head stops spinning, does he hold his hands towards you, urging you to take them as he says, “Sorry, baby. You did so well, I…”

You grip his fingers feebly, getting up on weak knees. Instead of holding onto your hands, he soon wraps an arm around your body, pulling you up before he asks, “Less next time?”

“No,” the word comes out as a squeak, throat already affected, “I’ll always tap if I feel it’s too much. I promi— promise.”

“Good,” he praises, a kiss to your damp forehead. He turns the water off. “That’s all I want, baby. Look at me.”

You’re already exhausted, staring down, fatigue fuelled by the hot water. Your eyes flutter open as you meet his gaze, and he puts a hand to your cheek, thumb on your swollen lower lip.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he compliments; his hand must be heating up under your touch, “did you know? So sweet and stunning. It makes me sick.”

“Thought I was the only one. You…” He looks at you, and you hold him tight, smiling about your joke in advance. “You have such an effect on me, it makes me wanna throw up.”

Right. So in love, it makes your stomach turn.

“Please don’t,” he pleads, conjuring a tender eye smile. The wide grin is unreal. “And let’s get out of here. We can’t keep standing here.”

“Waste of water.”

“Yes, waste of water. That, too. And I should have some lube in the bedroom.”

Of course he’s as impatient as you — although you’re almost a hundred percent sure you could do without that stuff easily. The insides of your thighs are slippery, and you’re certain the shower wasn’t the sole reason for that.

Your legs feel weird, your body heavy when you finally get out. The cosy bathroom is filled with steam and heat, but at least you can breathe easier here than under the piping hot water.

The mirror is fogged up; you glance into it to check your state, but recognise nothing but your vague form. You wipe a stripe the size of your hand along it as you walk past, halting at the door. And when you look back, Jungkook is making quick, brief work on picking up the clothes you haphazardly threw to the side before.

“You don’t wanna do this later?” you ask, still fond.

It’s just him cleaning up the floor, but… you enjoy watching him do mundane things. You might never be able to explain why, but you do.

“Just throwing them into the washing machine. Will turn it on later,” he answers.

He straightens his body with a sigh when he’s done, sniffling as he usually does. His eyes are hidden behind his long hair, so he lifts both his hands to brush the soaked tresses back. The muscles of his arms are mountainous and firm. Tattoos ending at his shoulder.

He’s indescribably pretty like that. Looking up, lips parted, jaw chiselled.

You observe him for a bit longer, gaze trailing down his body. Small nipples, broad and sculpted pecs, six painfully visible rectangles of abs. Cock still mostly awake.

Fuck.

Crossing your legs, you bite your lips, one hand on the door handle. You take in the domesticity. The moment might be subtle and casual, but something about it is incredibly homely.

How you speak to each other, and how his washing machine is cleaning both your clothes. It’s the little things, isn’t it?

Your eyes are fond when you say, “Whenever it does happen… I can already imagine all of it clearly.”

“Hm?” He blinks at you. “All of what, baby?”

“Of being here with you. All the time.” His motions stop. He drops his arms, a strand falling back into his face, but he doesn’t care. Glances at you for a couple seconds until you smile and nod towards the door. “Let’s go.”

But it seems he changed his mind in this split second that you turn to the exit.

Because all of a sudden, just as he did before, he tugs you back. And just like before, you land against the wall, having him staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. His voice is a whisper, enchanting, “Okay… you know what. Forget it.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck lube, okay?” His eyes are glued to your lips. Then to your pupils. He looks lost. “We can manage. Don’t need the bedroom… just you. Want you right now.”

“Jungko—”

You don’t anticipate it — so it draws a small moan out of you when his fingers suddenly graze between your legs, digging in for just a moment. Fingering you for a split second as you gasp — and then they disappear again.

He moves in to kiss your cheek. Just a peck first. Then his lips open against your neck, hand moving up your body and pushing your tit up. His tongue soon joins the fun, darting through his parted lips, sucking your tits hard. Biting, groaning, moaning.

“Jungkook.” You push your touch through his hair as he kisses his way further down, nibbling at your sides, and you whine, “Don’t wanna wait, Kook…”

His eyes are closed and his voice hushed, raspy and deep as he says between kisses, “I’ll be gone for a moment, baby. You’ll barely notice, I promise.”

Strange how he means distanced from your kiss, not from your body. Strange how you miss each other while in the same room, but not melted into each other.

You’re losing your mind. Throwing your head back, ruining your hair against the tiles. Eyes droopy and hazy, mind turning in various directions as you relish each touch and peck. Your body relaxes; all the weight of the world off your shoulders.

Jungkook fondles your body, caresses all of you, planting kisses on your tummy, your waist, your pelvis. Continues to tug at the flesh of your thighs with his lips. It feels like a massage, not painful but gentle. Careful as he hoists up one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder. 

And then… he starts.

His tongue flashes out to your clit. Parts your folds. It’s difficult from this position, but his pointy wet muscle paints patterns over your pussy. And you reel.

Jungkook truly is an artist. Knows to make you mewl, turns your breaths laboured. You move your hips, guiding his face closer with your hand in his hair, slowly riding it. The French kisses, the brush against your thighs… he’s…

God.

“God,” you echo, “I love this, I—”

He’s feasting. Letting out alluring sounds, spurring you on, and you almost topple over the edge. But Jungkook knows what he’s doing — leaves you yearning, moving away and up to you.

When he said he’d be gone for a moment, he truly meant it.

Your lip quivers when he looks at you, ordering a soft, “You’ll come together with me.” He raises your chin. “Okay? You and I together. Always.”

Must be a hidden message. He’s not just talking about sex anymore, is he? But him and you in one bubble, separated from the world. Nothing but you, you and you.

You barely wait another second. Instead, you immediately lurch forwards, initiating a kiss beyond sinful from the start. Teeth clashing, tongues feral. For a couple seconds you breathe into each other, letting out odd noises, his hand pulling your leg back up again and pinning it against the wall.

You’re on your tippy toes when his cock teases your entrance, his lips soon on your shoulder again. Cold chain brushing your skin. He’s sucking harshly, guiding his dick inside with determination. Sheer impatience is palpable in his touch and audible in his sounds.

The head of his dick parts your folds, diving in; and you let out a moan so lustful that he grows downright desperate against your shoulder. Standing here like this is hard, too; so he puts his palms on your ass, commands—

“Jump once.”

“What?”

“Jump,” he repeats, “I’ll hold you. Want you, please.”

“Okay…” you mumble. You put your hands on his broad shoulder, readying yourself, “Okay.”

And then you do — immediately wrapping your legs around him. And he lets you fall slowly, body pressed against yours, so you’re sandwiched between him and the wall; so he can guide his hardness back to your cunt.

You drop onto it slowly, carefully. Impaling yourself on him, inch by inch penetrating your insides. The more you take in, the deeper the crease between your eyebrows. And when he’s bottomed out, you feel like… yourself again?

Because what moment is more intimate than this? What moment allows you to crawl out of your shell more than this?

Even if in a crude sense, this is yet another definition of home. And every definition can be traced back to him.

“You feeling alright?” he asks, and you nod immediately.

“Is a bit weird, but…” you hold onto him, one hand moving to his face. You don’t finish your sentence; only nod, exhaling against his lips.

“Can I start?”

Another nod; and then he starts pumping in. Slowly in and out; you’re firmly in place against the wall, slipping just a little. His hands engulf your ass again — his strength is mind-numbing, and his sounds loud as he splits you in two.

Your eyes shut for a mini moment, and when they crack open again, they’re met with the still mirror. It’s fogging up again, yet still clear enough to make out Jungkook’s back; the form of his body. Your thoughts tangle up.

You’ve seen him shirtless a million times before, fully bare — but it might be the first time you’re enjoying this very perspective. And the entirety of him… leaves you gasping. Butt naked, ass muscles flexing, the triangle shaped back smooth. Where do his guts even fit?

They’re a blessing, those reflections, catching the way he’s standing, ramming into you. And then you, burying your nails into his shoulder blades, expression fucked out, body moving up and down the wall. Having things done to you by him.

You’re so fucking lucky.

You mutter, “Kook…”

“Yes, baby.”

“You look so good… so…”

“Mmmh, you do, too,” the sentence starts in a clear tone, but morphs into a whisper, “just… can’t see enough of you… shit, babe—”

He leans in, parting your lips with his, your tongues touching as he delivers a rough jab just once. And that’s when things stop working for you.

Because soon enough, you’re swaying to the side, nearly falling; as his protective instincts kick in, immediately holding you, his cock jumps out. And he shakes his head, pecking your temple once, and then deducts, “Okay. This won’t do.”

“Hmmm,” you hum in agreement, weak on your legs, “bad idea for sure.”

“Hold up.”

He’s quick to turn you around, thoroughly in charge of your body tonight — you’re fully under his mercy. Ready to kneel and bend for him. And Jungkook, understanding your boundaries, gives you all you need — knows what to do, knows when to stop.

And you keep handing over control; more so when he pushes you over the sink, stating, “Okay. Looks easier.” A pause. “Looks so much fucking better, too.”

Wish you could see. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re tense.

He leans down to kiss your back. His dick pokes between your ass cheeks again, slipping down and further down until it makes itself home between your nether lips again.

It falls into it in one fell swoop, swiftly, as if it’s no effort at all — guess it never is.

And god, does the position feel heavenly.

Balls deep inside; the first angle that allows full unhinged, animalistic mode.

But he still starts out slow; with long strokes and a hand in your hair. You tumble backwards a little, urging him to move too, lifting your ass higher and pushing your legs together for maximal effect.

Allowing more tightness for him; more friction for you.

“I… missed fucking you so much,” he says between thrusts. “You feel unreal.”

You guess you do. He does, too. Maybe the two of you need a reminder that this is all too real; perhaps a tantalising equivalent to a wake-up-pinch.

So you suggest, “Fuck me harder, Kook.”

“Hmm… want that?”

“Been waiting so fucking long.”

And while a lover of patience and anticipation — who is he to reject your wishes after the entire ordeal occurring in this room? The two of you have dragged out this moment plenty.

So he listens fast; soon using your neck as leverage as his inked fingers wrap it smoothly. Agreeing, “It’d be my literal pleasure, babe.”

God, he’s a dumbass — but you can’t physically react. Too caught up in something else; storing the laughter and jokes for later.

Because he picks up on pace, not too much right away; but enough for his hips to slap against your ass. Enough for you to be catapulted forwards with a whine, cheek pressing to the glass.

You lift your hand, accidentally wiping again, but only manage a trail, hand sliding down. From behind, you hear a hoarse praise, “Looks so fucking hot,” he draws a sharp breath, nearly hissing, “I promise I’ll be careful, just…”

He pulls at your hair. Shoves his cock inside rougher, face closer to you, lips to your cheek. Swallows hard enough for you to hear, and then, “Tell me if it’s too much. Am careful until I can’t be, baby.”

Until he loses control. He says it right before he drops all inhibitions and — goes feral.

You squint your eyes shut, calling out his name; the word echoes in the small room, and for just a second, you worry the neighbours might hear. And then right away, you stop caring again.

Because you want this man. Now and later and forever; want him like this, want him in any way. This isn’t just sex to you — if that’s what you wanted, you’d download an app like your freshman self used to.

No.

No matter how obscene, there’s meaning in every one of your touches; in every stroke, in every word, in every single time you lose yourself in him.

Your stomach twists as he jackhammers into you; you’re craving proximity, craving all his attention. Want all of his emotions and touches raw and merciless. Want to see him.

Although, when your shut eyes open, you only see blurry forms in the mirror moving, him behind you. He squeezes your neck; you see that much before he slides it down your body, straight to your clit, no detours.

He pushes his knee up for a second, touching the edge of the sink and balancing on one leg, but drops it again soon. The white painted, stainless steel of the sink, previously cold on your tummy, burns against your skin now. A chafing feeling.

Jungkook draws more forms against your clit, but then retracts his hand; instead, squishing your tits, indecisive where to touch. But it’s the last move he makes before he straightens his body, palms on your ass until he spanks just once and…

Pulls out again.

What?

“Look at me, sweetheart,” you register.

You pant, fingers clutching the sink and gulping down the tiredness before you manage a turn. Your eyes land on his dick first; it’s fully drenched in your arousal, so unbreakably stiff.

He whispers again, “Look at me,” but the moment you do, he doesn’t withhold your stare for too long. Instead, his hands are back on your cheeks, drawing you close, seeking your lips. His never-satisfied thirst matches yours; you want to remain here and freeze time.

With your arms around his neck, he guides you towards the washing machine, pushing the clothes further aside. He helps you get on it, but you argue immediately, “This could be dangerous, right? Shouldn’t sit here, I think… might break…”

“It’ll be okay,” he says, making himself comfortable between your legs, pushing them apart with his thighs. Two fingers hold your chin, lips ghosting over yours. “Is a cheap ass thing… want a new one anyway.”

You wonder if he’ll say that about all the furniture he’ll fuck you on. Because observing his eyes, you know that he will — will soil every inch of his apartment within, what you anticipate, a short period of time.

But unfortunately for the washing machine, you’re too weak to reject the offer.

So you hold him tight, jostling him closer to you as you ask, “Yeah?”

“Mhmmmm.” The word drowns in your moan when his cock glides back in; when will you ever get used to this? “Don’t worry… won’t break as badly as we will.”

Well, fuck.

The ridges of his cock drag just right along your walls, the angle making your mouth water. Your cunt is burning; and he still dares to ask, “Okay like that?”

“More than okay, Kook… more than—”

He always screws you numb; barely ever lets you finish your sentences. Your moans have become a constant interruption, along with the goddamn things he says, “Your pussy is so good. So, so good.”

And then he’s back making out with you, sweatier than before. His body is enticingly warm, muscles working on you. Both his and your hair sticks to the nape of the neck or your back, and you hold onto him, keening against his lips.

Then, you lean back for a second, keyed up as fuck, propping up your body with your arms. Your palms press against the back of the machine, and he inches close to explore the bare skin of your torso. His chain skims your nipples, as if on purpose; and he kisses you here, there, everywhere.

Neck, clavicles, tits, jaw.

Perspiring without an end, all of this could be gross. But instead, you feel hyped up, sexy as never before. Dizzy at the sight of his golden skin, the small beads of sweat spreading on it.

It takes one or two more minutes of this insanity until things come to an eventual end. A glorious end, that is — filled with deep moans, squealed calls of names, unrhythmic thrusts that fasten for the finale.

“I’ll come,” Jungkook states, and you shoot back up to him, holding his head against the mounds of your tits. He kisses between them, breathing irregular, words muffled, “Gonna come so hard, what the f—”

And when he does, you lose all coherent thoughts immediately. Not that you could think before — but his uncontrolled exclaims already make you wish for a whole new round. Nevermind that your pussy is wrecked and beaten.

Vocal as ever, he finishes with deep shoves, slowing down with each second. His lips remain open between your collarbones, and you feel his eyebrows draw together. Thick strings of hot cum filling you up, your cunt tightens.

And somehow, after all this, he still finds the energy to sneak his hand between your bodies, blindly seeking your clit until he finds it. Familiar circles render you breathless, even though they’re lazy — but picking up on intensity when he leans back, still breathing hard.

He looks absolutely done — still fucking the rest of him into you. But you’re moaning and groaning, and he’s far from giving up as he says, “Come with me, baby.”

Honestly, he doesn’t need to tell you. You’re already calling and blurting out random words, already limp. Wrapping your legs around his torso with the tiny remaining energy you have left, absolutely insane.

Jungkook kisses you one last time. And you let the build up in your lower tummy and pussy proceed; up and up and up to the peak — until he delivers one last stroke, cock already softening, finger on your nub diligent and…

You milk his dick in its entirety. Your pussy clenches and unclenches. Random figures swim in your vision, flashy behind your eyelids. Limbs trembling, body a mess and fingers hooking into his chain, you only notice now that you’re repeatedly whispering his name.

Winding and crying. Trying not to tug too hard, to break the jewellery, but still urging him closer, closer.

You’re shivering, surviving the vertigo, breathing stagnant. Trying to control it. Quivering like fucking crazy, not feeling your legs.

Also hating how his cum is dripping onto the damn washing machine. In your hazy mood, you laugh a little.

It takes a bit of time for the two of you to calm down, to dim the adrenaline in your nerves. Your chests rise and fall in unison, still clutching to the embrace. His skin is flushed, yours hot, skin tingling with the lingering heat of the passed passion.

And when he finally moves back, looking at you, you see half a dozen things in there. Satisfaction and vulnerability among them. Maybe even a hint of mischievousness, proud of whatever just happened; happy with the emotions it conjured.

Stars in his eyes. Contentment, composure and affection at last.

A pleasant stillness follows, the world outside the bathroom nonexistent. The aftermath of the steamy encounter lingers until you break the silence after all.

“When the hell,” you start, throat dry, “did you get so broad?”

“…What?”

“You just. You looked endless in the mirror. You’re so—”

Amused, he displays a grin as sly as you adore. He tsks and then mocks, “Stop drooling.”

“You first.”

His chuckle is throaty; a result of the constant exclaims and the absolute dehydration. You give the two of you a moment to collect saliva on your tongue, to swallow and wet your cords.

Your fingers paint an invisible, light pattern on his skin; tracing his tattoos is one of your favourite things to do. You jest, “That’s a good way to destress.”

He arches an eyebrow, then rolls his eyes — but the devotion towards you behind the gesture is irrefutable. It carries into his words, no matter how playfully mocking his tone or his sighs, “Everything for the princess.”

“So,” you pause, lips curling into a soft smile. “Is this what I’m gonna be getting for the rest of my life?”

You see it immediately. The explosion in his eyes; the burst of stars in the depths of his pupils. Clear as the night sky, fond and sweet and magical. Guess you spoke big words for sure.

“…The rest of your life, huh?” he asks.

“No?”

“Is that what you want?”

Ever-the-boomerang, you gauge his reaction, closing the distance between you. Lips barely apart, you throw back again, “Don’t you?”

You don’t need to glance through his ribs, lungs, blood and skin; you see the swelling around his heart. Emotions swimming in it in abundance. You see all of it right in his eyes.

And his voice proves it; delicate and quiet, “Baby… you make my heart drop to my stomach all the time. Do I not look at you like I want a rest of my life with you?”

Gosh. You’re too weak for this.

“Look at me like that more often,” you answer, breathing against him, eyes dancing with delight, “maybe I’ll believe you then.”

“Huh,” he makes, letting out an entertained huff, “brat. Maybe later. Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed for now, alright?”

Right. You forgot you’re still here. Snapping back into reality is always a task.

Of course it is.

Because your world is a cocoon; you don’t want to leave it just yet. And maybe, somewhere in the near future — you won’t have to anyway.

Jungkook and you don’t waste minutes doing formalities tonight. No flickering candle flames; no organised set up of your table. You dim the lights, snatching a lamp from his bedroom and rely on it along with the TV’s brightness.

You filled your plates and stomachs with a dish he’s wanted to show you for a while. It’s some special Jeon recipe — limited to him specifically, not his family. The brief cut in your relationship kept you from the meal, but watching him fiddle with the pots and cutlery was worth the wait after all.

He’s still proud of it; you’re filled to the brim, sick to the core, but the noodle-Buldak-mayo-perilla-oil-combination introduced the night just perfectly.

Your body is limp against his after dinner, bloated. A mutual agreement concluded that watching a movie might be the easiest activity you could indulge in to further destress. So you cuddle up, eyes droopy as you wait for the Netflix logo and thump to subside.

You let the username float by, though unable to suppress your giggle. Your back shakes against him, his hand halting mid-air, remote control in it, and you comment, “Letjungcook7. You’re such a dork.”

“Why?” You look back, met with raised eyebrows and round eyes. “Do you not like it?”

“I love it. Don’t you ever dare change it.”

He tuts, trademark smirk tilted; responds, “And don’t you ever change your Sunny Baudelaire icon.”

“God, she’s an iconic baby,” you groan, enthusiastic; your hands gesture to the TV, Baudelaires nowhere in sight, “I will never shut up about this show.”

“That’s why you’re not allowed to change it. Kinda cute how much you love it.”

“Jungkook,” you tug at his unoccupied arm, placing his wrist and palm over your belly button, “would you ever rewatch it with me?”

His hand rubs gently over your shirt, and then drops until his fingers are toying with your — his — jogger’s strings. “I’m a pro at rewatching. I’m down.”

You whisper a dragged celebratory word, eyes back to the screen. He’s scrolling through the genres fast, barely inhaling the titles and summaries. And when he skips three more of the stuff you’d usually settle on, you say, “Don’t think you’ll find anything on there.”

Ironically enough, he answers, “We’ve barely looked. Look. Knives Out’s second part is on there.”

“I just watched it recently. Hmm, what about that Poe movie with Christian Bale?”

On cue, he passes it three seconds later, only stopping on it for a moment before he voices, “Hmm…”

You wait. Drag out another second. Then conclude, “Okay, you’re not feeling it. Got it. Something else?”

“What about Disney?”

“What about scrolling until we fall asleep?”

The hand still busy with the strings moves up to your sides, pinching you lightly. You flinch, hard enough to nearly break his nose, overdramatic by nature. Amidst your commotion, you hear him say, “Don’t mock me. I’ll kick you from the couch.”

“I’ll just stay on the floor then.”

“Angel, I swear.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

But you’re not.

Because the bicker continues for another ten minutes, remote control snatched every now and then, ideas suggested and immediately rejected.

Jungkook admits his guilty pleasures merely a couple minutes later, and you conjure all your patience and discourse abilities to explain why you can’t watch The Notebook or Titanic anymore.

But once Dion’s soprano voice builds a nest in a lobe of your brain, you give in, half laughing, half agitated as you tackle the 90s classic — only for Jungkook to click out again.

“It’s no fun when we’re not both ready to watch it.”

“Dude…”

More scrolling, you guess.

Five more minutes pass — and eventually, Titanic deserted, you sing the songs of Coco instead. You expect Jungkook’s attention and lips to shift halfway through the movie, tracing down your neck or along your sides – a standard for a weekday movie night.

But to your surprise, he powers through it with minimal dialogue and wide, focused eyes. Palm above your ribs, moveless under your shirt and his cheek pressed against your heartbeat, you assume he’s fallen asleep by the time the credits roll.

Until – you feel warm liquid wetting your shirt, a sniffle combining with his shaky breath before you ask with your own damp eyes, “Babe— are you crying?”

His answer is delightfully unashamed and immediate, “I’ve never watched Coco without crying.”

The soft strains of the movie’s soundtrack won’t let your eyes dry either; but Jungkook seems far more into it than you. Adoration burns hot in your veins.

“You never told me that!” you exclaim.

“Because it’s not worth telling. Should be a given — these movies are made to cry to!”

You giggle through your tears. Jungkook’s mind works in miraculous ways — non-judgemental, yet probably flashing a side-eye to those who do not partake in a sob fest during Coco or Encanto.

“I honestly love how you’re not a toxic male at all, you know?” you point out; you feel a huff against your chest.

At least he’s smiling through the brief sadness, too.

You crane your neck, not quite turning around just yet, and watch him rub his cheek clean off the tears. Not that his eyes have stopped welling up, though.

For a moment, you observe, staring at the swollen, pouty lower lip. His pupils glimmer in the TV’s light, long locks brushed back; half of them tied in a tiny ponytail.

You could overthink every detail of his face. Tell him all about his everlasting elegance. Instead, you only lower your voice, soft as you say, “You look pretty even when you cry.”

“Thank you,” he returns, though fingertips still work at the liquid, and you can’t help but laugh.

You can barely believe that’s the same confident beast who was pressing you against cool tiles just an hour ago. The stark contrast baffles you.

You’re amused when you question, “It really affects you so much?”

“Everything about it!” he immediately argues. You expand your eyes. “The way Coco looks at Miguel at the end. And that freaking moment when she meets her parents at the end. Does it not affect you?”

“Oh, of course it does,” you defend, “I’m a story girl. I’ll cry reading and watching these things, for sure.”

“And then the lyrics,” he continues, in his element a hundred percent, “the thought of remembering someone even after they’re gone and far away…”

The further his sentence progresses, the more the words blur. His voice is feeble, hoarse when he gets to the final syllables. When he pauses between his rambling to draw a breath, you hear a heartbreaking shake in his inhale.

And the exhale sounds like a quiet sob.

You turn back immediately, pressing onto the pause button, remote control still in his hand. The credits darken the room as opposed to the movie’s colours before. You see a damp trail along his cheek, eyelashes wet.

Your smile vanishes as you stare a little longer. The blanket falls from your chest into your lap when you lift your arm from under it, hastily drying his tears with your thumbs. Just slightly, he leans into the touch, but his face soon falls, an attempt to hide.

You ask, “What’s wrong?”

Jungkook isn’t embarrassed of tears — you figured this out without him admitting it to you. But he’s embarrassed of the guilt he feels; acknowledging it when he speaks.

“It’d just be nice,” hands holding his face drop; you touch his chest, “to make up with the family like this. They made it look easy.”

You keep looking. Bewildered, unable to answer for seconds too long. You blink until the words sink in properly, incapable of more than, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, no,” he argues, shaking his head, “I mean. Who am I to tell you something like this?”

“It’s okay. Your worries are legit worries, too. Look at me,” you reassure, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You’re not a bad person. Okay? It’s… so terrible that you think you are.”

“I fucked up.”

It dawns on you once more that he firmly believes that; causes a searing sting. The process is neither a smooth nor a quick one — you know it’ll take a while for him to convince him otherwise. To drop his current beliefs about himself.

“You didn’t,” you refute, firm certainty and conviction in your voice. “That’s not how a fuck-up is defined, I promise you. And those who are actually wrong probably know, too.”

“It’d just be nice,” he starts again; the shrug of his one shoulder doesn’t distract you from the misery and self-loathing in his eyes, “if he called at least.”

“I know. I don’t know, I… do you think you could call instead?”

Jungkook’s lashes brush his skin, the apples of his cheeks not as round and squishy as usual. Yet, the sadness makes him look younger, softer.

You sigh; a warm blanket isn’t enough anymore. You need to wrap him in the comfort of the world — ideally, in his father’s care.

Jungkook opens his mouth for another argument, but then holds it in, says after another moment of contemplation, “Actually… There’s a gathering coming up. I’ll see my people there, so… I don’t know. Trying won’t hurt, right?”

“It never does.”

His eyes start unfocusing. You recognise it in the way he glues his gaze to a point on the glass table, unblinking, staring nowhere in truth. You keep your attention on him for another second, hoping he’ll look at you, even if forlorn.

But when he doesn’t, you wrap your arms around him instead. His chest is calmer against your head now, breathing as soft as the palms that find your back. He presses you into his body by mere inches; you barely notice.

Your fingers draw shapes on his arm, a subtle consoling gesture. In the background, you hear the song fade, volume lower now. The movie soon transitions to something else; you don’t pay any mind to it, drowsy and distracted in his embrace.

But then your mind wanders; to the man keeping Jungkook’s thoughts hostage. You remember the conversation the two of you had last Sunday. You recall the way your hand held his broken heart together.

You wish it was as easy as a small scar — an echo of whatever once transpired, but also a reminder that it healed.

Then, for a second, you think of your own wounds. How they still need to be cured, too. How years and time alone won’t fix issues; you need to tackle them actively — maybe at some point, the two of you can.

You laugh softly against his shirt, burying between his pecs; joking, “We’re perfect for each other. Dysfunctional families and whatnot.”

His chuckle is still a light tremble, but genuine enough for you to celebrate. His hands push a little harder into your back; your body shifts up his lap, butt half on his thigh. Eyes shut, still sniffling.

Jungkook wraps around you like a soothing force, an invisible bubble. A bandage despite carrying all bruises. You sigh in contentment, head dizzy from exhaustion; waking up just when he blurts a question again.

“You really think that, right? That I’m not a bad person.”

You crack your eyes open a slit.

You understand. Someone who overthinks needs multiple repeated reassurances — you’re the same.

So you nod against him, guaranteeing, “You’re… kind of ridiculously amazing. You’re someone who gives all those people hope who don’t believe in humanity anymore.” Pause. “And I admire you in every way. So much.”

He doesn’t respond. You wait. Further dead silence, interrupted by the soft sounds of the TV. You lick your lower lip, dropping your gaze to where your thumb rubs his wrist. Tracing a vein.

His mellow voice reverberates, a melody to your eardrums when he whispers, “We’d do this so much if you were here all the time.”

“Crying in each other’s arms, huh?”

He clicks his tongue, accompanied by the grin you’re certain graces his face, even if you can’t see. You hear it in his voice all the more, “Sure. Also, have dinner together. Shower and watch movies together. Laugh and cry.”

You smile. “I still can’t believe it, you know? That you want this… and me at all.”

“You feel that, too, yeah?” Fingertips move up your spine, between your shoulder blades and then to the nape of your neck. Tickling, grazing gently. “I promise I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t truly feel all that, though.”

“What’s all that?”

“Just.” His chest rises. Then falls. “Everything.”

One of your heartbeats freezes, you’re sure. And when it comes back alive, you think — maybe he doesn’t need the world’s comfort after all. Or his father’s care. Maybe yours is enough right now.

But then again.

You’d be damned if you kept your traumas intact. Or his. You took each other as you came long ago — as vulnerable human beings, with a whole lot of baggage. With all the injuries on your heart.

Yet, this isn’t a state you want to accept. For neither of you.

Your unwavering belief remains steadfast — that one day, things need to become… okay.

So you gulp down all the pain, lighting a candle in your chest, and say,

“It’s not over yet, baby.”

Zara keeps yelling orders around. Her voice, usually collected and tender, is agitated today. You can barely imagine how many little tasks, how many stressed phone calls must be overrunning her.

You establish a distance between your device and your ear, protecting your hearing with one eye squinting shut. And when she returns to the conversation, you exhale through the nose.

“Sorry. You were asking—”

“How’s it look?” you repeat.

“I mean, everyone’s stressed,” she responds, clearly frustrated; as if it should be obvious to you. And it is; but you’ll spiral, too, if you don’t keep your calm, at least. “A lot to do.”

“You’re sure you don’t need me to come earlier?”

“All good, love. You’re not a manager yet,” she stops her speech to mumble something to another co-worker, imaginary hands jam packed with preparations for the press conference. “But when you are, you won’t know what to do with all the stress.”

“Great outlook into a potential future.”

“I just mean you should enjoy things while they last.”

Zara isn’t the only one wandering up and down the building to assure perfection. She’s only one of the big mentors, managers to handle everything; responsible for the catering and content to be presented at the conference.

Her team stands firmly behind her, but you don’t blame her for still allowing her head to steam. Of all busy people in their blazers and slacks, however, she’s been the only one to spare some time for you.

You’re grateful for her enthusiasm and support. You smile as you ask, “Do you think I can answer everything the way I intend to?”

“I think so.”

“It’s so new to me.”

“Yeah, but you’re a natural at this stuff. And also,” she speaks slower now. The chaos behind her has calmed a little; her voice echoes off somewhere. Perhaps a restroom. “Things are looking good.”

You stop sauntering through the room, pausing in front of the bed’s corner before dropping onto it. Dragging your tongue over your lower lip, you blink, and then ask, “You’re sure?”

“We had a couple conversations over here. Made a few more phone calls, and I think you don’t need to worry about a thing. We’ll come up with something if things derail, though, okay?”

You’re uncertain, still anxious. Should this afternoon flop, you’ll be screwed.

You need it to succeed. You can’t afford misfires. Ugh.

Restless, your foot taps against the floor. You try not to think of things going astray; try to think of a smooth progress, not precarious in any way.

Yet, you ask doubtfully, “Can we do that?”

“We always can. That’s business.”

Guess she’s right. Your mother has saved you one too many times — from stupid things you did as well as from things you never needed saving from.

A rich human being’s power over the media — and frankly, the world — is unbeatable. Barely to be underestimated.

“Okay,” you mutter, “thank you.”

Despite only hearing her voice, you imagine her nod, the way she often does. You miss the warm, promising palm on your shoulder. Appreciate that she’s still here instead of dropping you to the side; leaving the call to handle more relevant issues.

No, she lingers there; you hear her breathe until she asks, “Are you bringing your man, too, by the way?”

Your man.

You straighten your back in pride, bright smile back, “Yeah! He said he’d come and support me. But he’s not home yet.”

“Oh? Well, you gotta be here in three hours. Where’d he go?”

“God knows. But don’t worry about punctuality.” You hear a hum, glancing up at the clock. Past noon. “Hey, also. My parents are definitely gonna come, right?”

“Babe,” she drags the word a little, and you can almost see her side-eyeing you, “journalists will be present. Cameras everywhere. At least your mother would never miss such a thing.”

Right. Cares about that company too much.

You remember the times she proved it to you. When you’d come home from middle school, eating some extravagant lunch while watching her talk on TV. Conversing with your staff.

“Okay. Good,” you say, happy about that very answer for once.

Outside, a door creaks. Steps echo through the hallway, a soft call of your name following as you hear the jingling of keys stop.

He sounds joyful.

You get up, phone halfway off your ear as you say, “Hey, I should go. I think that he—”

And the moment you look at the open door of the bedroom, your heart stops. For a second, you fear an intruder at his apartment, but the longer you look, the more your brain gives out.

The black-white-red jacket hugs his broad shoulders comfortably, the thin white sweater underneath it nearly transparent enough to reveal his tiny nipples. But despite his stature, it’s not his body that kills the power in your head.

It’s the—

You murmur last words into the phone, making out a goodbye that doesn’t reverberate as much anymore. She’s probably out of the restroom again; too distracted to give your mumble any attention anyway.

You place your phone where you previously sat and inhale his appearance carefully.

First off — you can see his ears. Can see most of his eyes. His forehead.

His hair is still dark, but it’s tamed. The wild locks, usually a feature you’ve gotten used to over the span of that one year, lay comfortably on his head. In fact, most of them are gone.

You feel a needle in your chest, but one of the surprising sort. Not painful at all.

“Wow,” you only say.

He reaches to the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing the hair there. “Yeah?”

You move towards his body, eyes fixated on every hair strand. Then, close enough, you state the obvious, “You cut your hair.”

“I… yeah. Is it terrible?” he asks, round eyes meeting yours. He raises his hand again, to his ear this time, scratching behind it for a second. “Not used to it at all. But I figured I’d look a little more serious as an artist like this.”

Really? Most artists you knew cared the least about a fancy appearance.

Then again, Jungkook doesn’t look fancy. He just looks different. Breathtaking, more mature, older.

His cheekbones look more chiselled now, his eyes wider. You could pass out right here, right now, and he still wouldn’t know how relentlessly he affects you.

“More serious?” you ask, less because you need an explanation. More because your mind keeps wandering, and you can’t fathom a word he’s saying.

“Just. Needed a change, I think,” he admits, “and wanted to adjust to a press conference’s typical look, too.”

“You did this for the press conference?”

“I wanted to look put together.”

Your heart dissolves and dissipates. His voice is soft as a petal, tender like the colours on his arm. The expression he sports is unsure, like he wants to hide — waiting for your opinion.

He really put thought into this. Woke up this morning and set a goal with purpose, not uttering a word to you to surprise you a couple hours later.

You don’t know what to say. You barely know what to feel, except this unbearable urge to ramble down every piece of tiny emotion he’s ever made you feel.

You want his body wrapped around you, engulfed in a blanket, head on his chest and slumbering for the rest of your life. Want to mumble little confessions, shiver when his lips touch your scalp.

Overwhelmed — that’s what you are.

“I loved the long hair,” you finally admit, “I guess I got too used to it, so I need to adjust, but. But… this is so… It… it suits you.”

You’re stumbling over your words, suggesting doubt. Not the way to go. Perhaps they shouldn’t have chosen you as one of the press conference speakers after all. 

Jungkook’s concern grows visible in his big, round pupils; expressive, a true glimpse into his heart. You feel bad because you’re not as good with words as he is, and because he seemed so happy about his choice.

You just can’t fucking express yourself — even though you’re melting inside, falling harder. And maybe he notices your awkwardness, because he tries again.

“You’re uh— sure you don’t hate it?”

“No! God, no. It’s different. You look amazing, Kook. You look like…”

He swallows. “Like what?”

“You’re so pretty, Jeon Jungkook.” You say it with genuinity this time. He closes his lips, blinking, and while he attempts to veil his relief, you still see the high rise of his chest. “You look fucking gorgeous, no matter what you do. I… I mean it.”

The answer satisfies him. His risen shoulders drop a little, tension falling off, and he fixes the already perfectly sitting collar of his jacket before he smiles. Just a little, a subtle twitch of the corners of his lips.

As soft as his response, “I always aim to reach your level, you know?”

You roll your eyes. Partly to keep them from watering because your heart is bursting. Splintering like every morning and every night; you wonder if you’ll ever get used to it.

A couple gentle words lie heavy on your tongue, pressing against the muscle to let them out; but at the prospect of actually uttering them, your guts twist. You don’t want to throw up before the meeting.

So you remove the tightness from your chest with a deep exhale, nearly until your lungs are dry, and say, “Shut up.”

Playfully, you deliver a soft push against his chest, laughing when his dramatic ass stumbles backwards. Submerged in those goddamn dimples, you immediately grab the hem of his jacket and before you know it, you’ve taken a step forward and landed in his arms.

You sneak your arms underneath the leather-ish material, not hesitating for a second before you’re squeezing his torso. He lets out a choked sound, groaning, but reacts similarly fast as you.

His heartbeat accelerates for a moment, right against your ear as you make yourself small. The sweater smells like his favourite detergent and him; musky, fresh. Your palms, flat against his back, crave deeper touch.

Nothing crude; just an afternoon on the bed behind you, limbs entwined, laughing about things that probably aren’t that funny anyway.

For a moment, the silence transcends words. You inject the blend of gratitude and affection through your touch, ensuring he understands.

But when it’s not a testament to your emotions enough, you speak against his chest, voice very likely muffled, “You didn’t have to do this for me… you just. You never have to do anything for me, but you still do.”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

Immediate and sincere. Voice unwavering.

God, you’re not his strongest soldier.

A smile tugs at your lips, and you chide, "Stop that."

"What?"

"If you keep saying these things," you continue, a frisky lilt in your voice, "I'll die. Do you want me to die?"

Jungkook chuckles. Always a soothing melody in a hushed room. He remarks, grip still wrapped around you securely, "Acting all innocent now."

You don’t understand right away what he means — but then you hear his heartbeat, picking up on pace again.

Makes you want to squash him harder. Melt into him further.

“Shut up, Jeon,” you respond with a nudge, cheek pressed against his shirt. Just a moment longer — just a couple more seconds to inhale the solacing scent.

Your heart is unguarded; he could sever it if he wanted to. He’s proven that he has the power to. Yet, you keep fuelling it, vulnerable in his warmth as you say, “You’ve no clue what you mean to me, Kookie.”

Your vivid imagination might be forcing things upon your mind that aren’t actually there, but you do think you perceive the way his entire body melts. Nearly limp, in a state so relaxed and peaceful that you have only experienced in the mornings before.

Waking him up for work, feeling weightless limbs wrapped around you, passed out.

His fingers trace patterns on your back lightly, stirring from bottom to top and back. They first stop at the small of your back, then lift off your body, hands suddenly on your shoulders.

He pushes you off him, your movements reluctant, and looks at you with profound sincerity. His voice matches his expression, gentle and adoring, “Will you tell me how much I mean to you?”

Amidst the delicate minutes you spend standing between the bedroom and the living room, you almost forget that there’s a world outside. It’s a little more grey than before, similar to the suit you’ll be wearing in a couple hours.

You remember the prospect of an audience, the answers you’ve prepared, to questions they probably will ask. Zara told you they wouldn’t hold back — they’d phrase their inquiries friendly, but still keep the intentions devilish.

Right.

The world is still turning out there. You want it to stop for the two of you — frozen moments. But it can’t, at least not yet. Right now it’s too real; and you guess that the worst part is that in your line of business, it will keep revolving around people like you.

Whether you want it or not.

So maybe, if it truly needs to keep spinning and can’t halt for you, keeping you in the centre, you should give it something to talk about, too.

Something crisp, something new. Without a care for it, but all the care for you and the man in front of you.

Which is why you spare him another fond smile, forehead calm and your demeanour confident — and tell him, “I’ll do my best to let you know."

The audience stretches to the far back. All the rows are filled to the brim with reporters or guests. The shutter of the cameras and the flashing lights are agitating.

You look down.

Nervously tapping your feet on the stage, you shrink into yourself inch by inch. Your seat is uncomfortable, though padded, a little too warm against your ass right now. Zara notices your tick and puts a steady hand to your knee, repeating for the millionth time today, “Stop. It’ll be okay.”

“It’s just dawning on me though, Zara.”

“What is?”

You nod faintly towards the mic and the attendees, tell her, “That I was actually chosen to speak. They shouldn’t have chosen me.”

“You asked for it.”

“Yeah, but there are more important things to discuss.”

Zara’s lips form a circle; she shakes and lowers her head, sending out a beam of air that you feel on your wrist, blazer sleeves rolled up. You’ve been like that all evening.

“You can do it,” she repeats patiently, “you’re the boss’ daughter and they want your opinion. You’ll hit them hard with yours.”

You suck in a breath, leave the air in your cheeks, and then puff it out again. “I want to. I hope to, I just— never thought it’d be this nerve-wracking. Don’t wanna say anything wrong.”

The subtle shake of her head continues — or reemerges —, lips in a thin line, eyes slowly blinking, “Mh-mh. We talked about it, okay? Practised all the questions they could ask. You’ll be good.”

“You gotta promise.”

“As much as I can, babe, it’s up to y—” She takes in your falling face, holding back with a sigh when she sees the dread in your pupils. “I promise. Of course.”

She taps your knee, softly and lightly, and then says, “I’m so curious about everyone’s reactions. Like. Gosh, just look at those people.”

You understand what she means. “I know.”

Zara places a manicured thumb on her matte red lips, mumbling, “Here for entertainment. At least a third of them will add their own fantasies to the articles they’ll write. Hypotheses and manipulative, neutrally phrased thoughts. Cockroaches.”

Funny. That’s what you call them, too. A collective understanding, you see.

But.

“Shhh,” you voice, “they—”

“It’s fine. They know it, too. Like lawyers do.”

Can’t refute. Eun told you one too many times how unfair the law business usually is, and how she’ll strive to not have anyone ever manipulate her. To remain genuine.

“Yeah, but,” you still argue, “I imagined they’d be listening in all the time. Don’t they do lip reading and stuff?”

She nods, a finger still on her mouth, smiling, “Mhm. I also feel like I could say whatever, but it’ll be you they’ll focus on today.”

Your heart drops, an uncomfortable twist in your guts adding to the stress. Might have to dash to the bathroom at the very last minute. You curse, “Shit, Zara… I should fucking ru—”

“Stay. You can do this. I promise.”

“Okay,” you take another deep breath, helping your oxygen-lacking, spinning head, “okay.”

You look back to the media present, ready to survive questions; prepared to provide answers. The moderator is talking to your mother at the front, covering the mic with a hand.

They gave you around five minutes to speak, and in that time, you need to answer everything. How you do it is up to you, but the pressure to perform in a certain way, accordingly, weighs heavily on you.

But it’s alright.

You’ll just need to stay confident. Stick to your message. They’ll have things to say anyway — and you’ll make the best of them.

You stare past the lights, squinting to find him, raking your neck. His figure towers in the back, easy to detect, and once he meets your eyes — or perhaps never having averted his from you — he lifts a hand to wave in tiny motions.

Then, he drops his fingers again, entwining them in front of his body. He isn’t necessarily allowed here, but you were able to sneak him through in advance. So now he’s a couple feet from the wall, choosing to stand rather than sit, so you find him easily.

So you seek his eyes for comfort if need be.

Before you parted near the entrance, he said, “I’ll be offering a dozen thumbs up like a fool if you need me to.”

You chuckled — but maybe he meant it. Because his smile and nod undoubtedly dispel your fears; as if he can see you struggling.

The seconds drag on, and the conference begins seven minutes later. Your mother is the first to talk, outlining a general overview of what’s to come. Of Charmante’s philosophies, of its success, praising the team.

Then, she forwards to important employees like Zara, letting them ramble about launches or ideas in depth. Business strategies, partnerships, bringing across points that you usually don’t get the chance to share.

This is legit press; even though out for a loophole, they won’t follow you around or hide in the shadows. Incessant and vexing, but at least they’re allowed here.

Conversations about new collections, store openings as well as expansions and customer engagement pass in a trice, and at some point, another coworker is uttering last words to a last question.

And you realise — that you’re next.

The moderator introduces you with pride; everyone applauds, smiling at you fondly despite all the controversies. ”Controversies.” Under quote marks, as Zara pointed out, because you never committed an offence.

You stand on weak knees. Trembling when you grip the podium. It’s like the sound in the room fades, a single peeping tone overshadowing all noise. You barely blink anymore; not even the flashy white can shut your eyes.

And god, you can hear your breathing. Your damn heart. Your nose sucks in all the air available in the room, or at least in the building, and then you open your mouth to speak.

a/n: this is not a cliffhanger!! tumblr just doesn't allow to drop looong posts anymore, so here's the rest of the chapter lol, keep reading and enjoying, i love you and will see you on the other side!! and don't forget to support this chapter, folks 🥺 <3

[joonsmagicshop]

Summer Lovin'

Summary: Every year The Park Family rents a cottage up in the mountains and every year they invite Taehyung, Jimin's best friend. But what happens when Jimin's sister is newly single and just wants some fun?

Paring: Taehyung/Reader

Work Count: 8K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: Brothers best friend trope, POV switch, Tae and Jimin are cute best friends and I love them okay, Fluffy haired Tae in a baseball cap, he calls her by a nickname, masturbation male and female, accidental walking in on someone naked, dirty thoughts, flirting, smut, dirty talk, fingering, sucking cock, fucking, cliffhanger ending, will there be more? who the heck knows!

Authors Note: Once again blaming Taehyung in a baseball cap for this.

Taehyung adored The Park Family.

He had become like a second son to them after one fateful day in third grade when little Park Jimin whispered a word in his ear he didn’t know, so he did what he thought was right and flagged the teacher down to ask her what it meant.

He missed the way Jimin’s eyes widened and he kept mouthing the word no over and over

When the word left little Taehyung’s mouth the teacher gasped and flung her hand over her mouth and asked him where he learned it from.

Taehyung wasn’t a tattle so he said nothing but the teacher saw how his eyes quickly moved over to Jimin which landed them both in detention and staying inside at recess, which to two overactive eight-year-olds was torture.

Jimin apologized right away, saying he wanted to be friends with Taehyung and tried to impress him by knowing a “grown-up word”

And that was how they became best friends.

Taehyung and Jimin became inseparable throughout grade school and into high school. They seemed always to be attached at the hip, where one went the other did too.

Throughout school, other friends came into the picture, their group growing and shifting as they both got older but one thing was certain: Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung were friends for life.

Every year Jimin’s family rented a cottage in the mountains for an entire week in August. The house was an A-frame cabin with giant windows overlooking the front and back of the property.

The cottage was huge but had a rustic cozy feel, with five bedrooms, a huge living room with a fireplace, and a huge backyard with enough space for lawn game tournaments and bonfires.

The dock was Taehyung’s favorite part of the cottage as it expanded outward quite far and he had fond memories of himself and Jimin lathering themselves in sunscreen to sit out there all day and see who could catch the biggest fish.

This year would be no different and Taehyung was grateful to get a week off from his busy job and be able to spend it with The Park family.

His duffle bag sat by the front door of his apartment as he fished his phone from his pocket to double-check the time Jimin said his family would be coming to pick him up.

Taehyung was no longer a boy, he was an adult now, but still felt the need to text his parents and let them know he was once again going to the mountains with The Park Family.

Not that his parents were surprised, he had been going every year since he was twelve and he was now twenty-seven.

Just as he sent the text, another message came through from Jimin saying that they were about to turn onto his street and Taehyung let out an excited giggle and grabbed his duffle bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He looked around the apartment one more time before fixing his backward baseball cap and heading off to his favorite adventure.

As long as Taehyung lived he knew he would never forget the air in the mountains. It was crisp and cool even in the humid August weather and after the long five-hour drive Mr. Park rolled down all the windows and they all stuck their heads out breathing it in.

The sky was a beautiful blue with huge whispy clouds and when Taehyung stared across the shimmering waters of one of the many lakes, he could feel excitement bubble up inside of him which came out in the form of a huge boxy grin directed at Jimin who was sitting next to him.

The van had not even fully stopped in front of the cottage when Jimin unbuckled his belt and Taehyung followed suit. It was tradition on the first day to see who could race to the dock and jump in the water first and Taehyung was determined not to lose for the third year in a row as he threw open his door and ignored the protests from Mrs. Park.

Jimin managed to get to the dock first but Taehyung was hot on his heels and decided to play dirty as he grabbed Jimin’s tee shirt which was two sizes too big and threw him to the ground.

Jimin’s angry noises could hardly be heard over Taehyung’s giggles as he kicked off his shoes and sprinted down the old wooden dock, carefully holding out his arms as it swayed under him.

“You cheater!” Jimin called out as Taehyung ripped off his shirt and hat and threw them somewhere. He made sure to take his phone out of his pocket and place it in a safe spot too. He could hear Jimin behind him, way too close behind for being thrown to the ground and Tae plugged his nose and jumped into the cold lake water hissing as it nipped at his bare skin.

Another splash could be heard as Jimin hurled himself into the water right next to Taehyung and both boys came up gasping for air and giggling as they splashed each other with cold lake water.

Taehyung pushed his hair back from his face and grinned at Jimin who was grinning right back.

They both swam back to the dock and used the tiny ladder to climb back up. The towels were still packed away so they both sprawled out on the wooden chairs that were placed at the end of the dock and let the sun dry their skin.

Taehyung grabbed his hat and pushed his long dark hair back before placing the hat on his head to block out some of the harsh sun.

“You’re such a cheater Tae,” Jimin whined as he fished around for his sunglasses which got tangled in the mess of clothing left behind.

Taehyung snickered.

“You have played dirty that last couple of years Jimin-ah.” He reminded as Jimin gave a small huff and shoved his sunglasses on his face, tilting his blonde head back to soak up the sun.

Both boys lapsed into silence, taking in the sounds of the lake, the small boats that padded around, and the birds overhead.

Eventually, Taehyung spoke.

“Bug not coming up this year?” He asked Jimin as he smoothed his hands down his front and stretched his arms over his head.

“You know she hates it when you call her that.” Jimin scolded which caused Tae to smirk.

“You both know why I call her that.”

“Yeah. I still can’t believe we counted fifteen bug bites. All in one night too.” Jimin mused as Tae snickered.

“And her making your mom run to the store to get her ointment because she was scared she was going to claw her legs off with all the scratching.”

Jimin laughed at the memory and adjusted his sunglasses which were slowly slipping down his nose.

“Bug is going to come up tomorrow. She tried everything she could to get today off work but management wouldn’t let her and none of her coworkers would switch her. She’s doing half the drive tonight and the rest tomorrow.” Jimin explains as a boat zooms by with someone being pulled behind on an intertube yelling and having the time of their lives.

“She’s coming up alone? What about….Jung…whatever his name was?” Taehyung asked turning his head away from the boaters to stare at Jimin who scowled.

“Jungsoo? They broke up three months ago. Something about them fighting about stupid shit a lot.” He said shrugging.

Taehyung felt his heart ache for Jimin’s younger sister.

“Aww, I’m sorry to hear that. He seemed promising.”

Jimin stretched his arms above his head and let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, she said they were fighting a lot and just couldn’t seem to get along. I never asked what they fought about. But she seems okay. When I visit my parents she seems like my normal annoying little sister. I don’t think the breakup was too bad.” Jimin shrugs as he stands up and Tae follows suit.

“We should probably go in and help the parents.”

Both boys gather their things and head back to the house. Jimin is talking about some TV show he wants Taehyung to get into but Taehyung finds his mind is elsewhere.

The next morning Jimin shakes his friend out of a dead sleep and suggests they go on an early morning boat ride.

Even for August, the mornings are crisp so Taehyung wears shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, throws on a sweater just in case, and grabs his signature red baseball cap smoothing it over his bedhead.

Jimin writes his parents a note so they don’t worry and both boys silently slip out of the cottage and head back down to the dock.

Jimin doesn’t want to fish this morning and Taehyung is more than happy just to cruise around the lake and see if anything has changed since last summer.

The sun is just starting to rise as Jimin pulls the small silver boat from the dock and steers it expertly across the lake as he had done many summers before.

A soft wind ripples the water below as Taehyung pulls his sweater over his hands and takes out his phone to snap some shots of the sun rising over the mountains.

A light fog covers the lake as they both cruise around and everything is silent and peaceful.

The sun is high by the time they make it back and when they finally get the boat tied to the dock Mrs Park is calling them in for breakfast.

Both boys make it to the kitchen in time to see plates piled high with croissants, fruit, and toast with multiple jams.

What really shocks Taehyung is the fact that Jimin’s sister is standing in the kitchen buttering some bread.

Jimin shrieks and wraps his sister in a hug while Tae stands there as if he is a statue, unmoving, unblinking as he takes in Y/N.

Jimin’s sister is not how he remembers and he feels himself swallow nervously when your soft eyes land on his.

You seemed to have gotten taller, and grown your hair out and Taehyung suddenly felt disgusted with the thoughts he was thinking so he resorted to the only thing he knew how to do,

Light teasing.

“Hey, Bug!” He called as you came over and rolled your eyes at him, playfully smacking his arm and giving him a side hug.

“You ever going to let that one go? I was eleven.” You say scrunching your nose as Taehyung tries his best to seem nonchalant and not like he was ogling you.

You were Jimin’s sister after all.

“Nah I don’t think I’ll ever let it go Bug,” Taehyung responds smoothly as you once again roll your eyes and pull away from him to butter more toast as Jimin talks excitedly filling his sister in on the morning boat ride.

Taehyung keeps to himself and slowly fills his plate with food giggling along with Jimin’s story and trying to not stare at you too much.

There was just something about you, maybe it was the way the morning sun was hitting your bare arms or the way you tilted your head back and laughed when Jimin became more animated with his story but it was sending mixed signals to Taehyung’s head

You smiled along to Jimin’s story and unknown to you, your smile gave Taehyung that funny giddy feeling in his stomach that only came along with having a crush on someone.

But he didn’t have a crush on you

That would be ridiculous you were practically his sister after all.

And just because you came here looking good didn’t mean he had to indulge in these feelings.

There were no feelings anyway.

This whole thing was stupid

Jimin nudged his shoulder which jolted him from his thoughts and asked if Tae was up to some fishing on the dock today.

Taehyung found himself nodding and when his eyes met yours across the table his stomach did a silly little flutter again.

Well, shit.

The day was perfectly spent on the dock with Jimin as they chatted and soaked up the warm sun, catching hardly any fish but still having a good time.

Jimin brought a mini speaker and was in charge of music as the day went on, telling Taehyung he could play whatever he wanted to as long as it wasn’t jazz.

Jimin argued that Jazz wasn’t fishing music so they stuck to a mix of oldies and pop music singing along when they knew the words.

The sun was creeping lower in the sky when Mrs. Park called them to get cleaned up because dinner would be ready in an hour.

You had decided to spend your day up at the cottage on the hammock as you read your book and occasionally eyed Taehyung who was looking extra fine this year.

The way he called you by your silly nickname sent a shiver down your spine and you tried your best not to ogle him over the breakfast table.

He was your brother’s best friend after all

Just because Jungsoo spent too much of his time drinking and hanging out with other girls who were not you didn’t mean you had to jump at the first guy you thought was handsome, even though this crush on Taehyung dated way back when you were fifteen.

You tried to stare at your book, not absorbing a single thing as Jimin and Taehyung made their way over. You could feel them getting closer and you tried your best to stay cool, calm, and collected as you pretended to read.

Jimin playfully flicked your arm which caused you to close your book and hit his arm with it making Taehyung laugh.

A hearty laugh that went straight to your stomach and made butterflies erupt as both boys headed into the cottage to get cleaned up. Jimin claimed the upstairs shower and Taehyung settled for the downstairs one.

Your book was suddenly the least interesting thing as you stared at the pages but your mind was elsewhere.

To a certain dark-haired boy who would be taking a shower in the downstairs bathroom, where the lock can be faulty if you don’t close the door hard enough. What would he say if you slipped in with him? Would his eyebrows raise in shock? Or would he mutter a cheeky “finally” and pull you in for a searing kiss?

You had a sneaking suspicion that Taehyung would be a great kisser.

You swallowed hard imagining Taehyung under the spray and how good he would look soaking wet and so very naked.

Your core throbbed at the thought and you nearly screamed when your mom came up behind you and asked if you could help with dinner.

You followed her into the house placing your book on the kitchen counter as you got to work, grateful for a distraction. Soft music was playing from Jimin’s Bluetooth speaker as you cut up vegetables and set the table. You could faintly hear the sounds of Jimin singing over the sound of the running water.

Everything was calm and peaceful.

That was until your mom asked you to go downstairs to grab the potatoes.

You slowly made your way down the narrow stairs and tried your best to ignore the door that Taehyung was behind and instead focus on the task at hand.

“Potatoes, potatoes… grab them and leave, Don’t think about it. Grab and leave.” You muttered to yourself opening up the storage bins your mom brought hoping you could find them quickly.

“Hey uh, Jimin?” Came a deep voice that made the hair on your arms stand and you nearly dropped the bag on your foot as the door creaked open and you were met with a very wet, shirtless Taehyung.

“Oh shit sorry, Bug.” He said cheeks flushing which you were sure your cheeks matched as you held the bag against your chest as if it would protect you from his hotness.

Steam was billowing out from behind him and he looked divine standing there soaking wet as droplets fell from his hair and down his face. Your eyes narrowed in on a fat droplet that was currently making its way down his chest agonizingly slow.

“Want me to grab him for you?” You asked, grateful your voice didn’t crack as you stared at Tae who was half-hidden behind the door and grinning sheepishly at you.

“Uh, I mean. I was wondering if you could go to the laundry room and grab me a towel. Usually, there is one in here but I think your mom forgot.” He says shooting you a small shy smile and your eyes widen when you realize he is naked, fully naked behind the door.

Heat blooms across your face and you nod slowly and put the bag back where you found it in favor of going to the laundry room and grabbing a towel.

You take several deep breaths as your hand connects with the fluffy white towel and you fan your face to make the blush hopefully go down.

You can’t stop thinking about the way his dark locks hung on his forehead and beads of water ran down his beautiful face. His chest was sculpted and he looked like a model straight out of a magazine, and all he did was shower!

You grabbed the towel and hurried back to him desperate to get back upstairs and out of this situation and when you hand it to him you can’t help but stare when he uses one hand to push his hair back from his face.

This man was going to be the death of you.

“Thanks, Bug.” He said with a cheeky wink as you went to grab the potatoes again.

“You know that’s not my name.” You deadpanned shooting him a glare that had him laughing.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door fully which had you standing there frozen as you completely took him in.

You tried to keep your gaze on his face but found yourself drawn to his toned stomach and how the towel sat so tantalizingly low on his hips.

Right when you were about to open your mouth to say something Taehyung interjected.

“Nah I like calling you Bug. You look so cute when you're all flustered over it.” He says smoothly, leaning against the door frame with a cocky grin plastered on his face.

You don’t know what to do or say

Taehyung was so obviously flirting with you and you were messing it up big time.

Luckily for you, Taehyung interjected again making your stomach flip.

“Well, thanks for the towel Bug.” He teases with a wink before closing the door and leaving you standing in the basement breathlessly holding a bag of potatoes.

Dinner was peaceful as your parents decided to eat outside on the large deck that overlooked the grass and the water.

The sun was starting to slowly set and the air was getting cooler again which meant you were wrapped up in shorts and a sweater as you ate.

You were hyper-aware of Taehyung sitting next to you and tried your best to not stare at him too much as you as you ate.

Because you helped cook it meant the boys had to help clean so you decided to take a quick shower to clean off the day.

Showers were usually pointless as almost every night your parents had a bonfire but you still cleaned your hair and body, humming a song under your breath as you worked.

You turned the shower off and stepped out feeling refreshed as you took your time applying skincare and combing through your soaked hair.

You decided to throw it up in a clip as you didn’t want to go through all the work of styling it and then you sat on the bed scrolling through your phone aimlessly as you could hear the boys talking and joking in the kitchen.

Your thoughts drifted back to Taehyung and you couldn’t help but let out a dreamy sigh as you remembered how he looked out of the shower. How his face was so handsome and how he shot you a cute boxy grin when you handed him a towel.

You could feel your face heat up once more and a persistent throbbing between your legs told you liked the thought of a wet, naked Taehyung.

You checked the little black alarm clock that sat on the nightstand and grinned.

The bonfire didn’t usually start until the sun went down so you had some time to take care of things.

You slipped under the covers and carefully shucked off your pants. You knew you had time, but not enough of it to truly indulge so you gathered some wetness and played with your clit.

Your thoughts went back to wet, naked Taehyung and how he would look in the shower. With water droplets cascading down his chest and back, how his biceps would flex as he washed his hair and you could only imagine how his cock would look under the spray.

Your orgasm crept up on you quicker than you thought and before you knew it your muscles were straining and you were whining into your hand as you rode out your high, whimpering out Tae’s name as if he was the one to bring you sweet relief and not your own imagination.

You slumped down on the bed exhausted and pulled the covers over your naked lower half. You were too tired to get dressed just yet and softly closed your eyes.

The bonfire was raging as Taehyung looked out at the quiet lake and smiled to himself when he caught a glimpse of fireflies dancing on the surface of the water.

Mr and Mrs Park brought everything down for smores and Jimin was poking the fire with a stick as his hair fell in front of his eyes.

“Where’s Y/N?” Mrs. Park asked shooting a look back at the cottage as the smoke from the fire rose in the air.

“Jimin-ah stop poking at it it is fine.” Mr. Park scolded lightly.

Taehyung also looked up at the cottage and frowned, he had not seen you since after dinner and a part of him wondered if he made you uncomfortable when he asked you for a towel and flirted with you.

His initial plan wasn’t to flirt at all. However, something about the way your cheeks tinged pink when he winked at you sent a thrill down his spine and he found once he started flirting with you he had a hard time stopping

“I’ll go up and see. I want to grab some water anyway.” Taehyung announced as he stood up and brushed his hands on his thighs.

He followed the illuminated path to the deck and opened the sliding door.

The cottage was quiet and he opened the fridge and grabbed a couple of water bottles placing them on the counter for later, before making his way to your room.

Your room was at the very end of the hall and honestly, Taehyung was often jealous of it. You had a big bay window that overlooked the forest and a small sliver of the lake which would be the perfect spot to read or write, both of which he enjoyed.

He knocked on the door and waited, shifting foot to foot as he pushed his long hair back from his face.

He really should have gotten a haircut before he came here.

He frowned when you didn’t answer and knocked again, this time a little louder in case you didn’t hear him.

When you still didn’t respond he called your name a couple of times and eventually gave up and pushed the door open.

And what a sight you were.

Taehyung sucked in a harsh breath when his eyes met your sleeping form. It looked like you passed out right after your shower.

You sleeping wasn’t what shocked him.

It was how you were sleeping.

You were wearing a big baggy tee shirt that he was convinced used to belong to Jimin as it looked familiar. Your hair was damp and splayed out on the pillow as your cheek was cutely pushed into it.

You were half on your back half on your side as one leg was sticking straight out and the other was bent at an angle to show off the exquisite curve of your ass and the back of your thighs.

Which were on full display because you weren’t wearing any bottoms.

At all.

Nothing.

Taehyung felt the blood in his body rush south so quickly it made him dizzy and he held onto the door frame for support as his eyes roved your body.

You must have kicked off the sheets in your sleep as they were piled at the end of the bed and even from here Taehyung could see your pussy lips which caused him to let out a low whine and his cock to twitch in his shorts.

Taehyung stood frozen unsure of what to do as you slept peacefully unaware of the turmoil he was in.

He should just shut the door and leave.

Walk away.

Pretend he didn’t see anything

But what if Mr or Mrs Park came in?

Or worse Jimin.

You should at least be covered up.

It would be the right thing to do.

Taehyung sucked in a deep breath and entered the room. He walked up to you and nearly cried out when he got an eyeful of your bare pussy.

Your lips were wet and swollen and it looked like you had recently pleasured yourself as he could still see your arousal leaking out. He could see the little freckles that were on the back of your legs and felt every nerve in his body on fire when he realized how badly he wanted to kiss every single one.

Fucking shit.

You let out a small mumble in your sleep and shifted on the bed, Taehyung stood frozen heart racing in his chest.

What if you woke up and thought he was a pervert?

Taehyung grits his teeth as his cock twitched again in his pants, staining his boxers in wetness as he brought a hand down to his palm at it, just to ease the ache.

You looked so good like this, all sprawled out in bed, pussy exposed to him. He wanted nothing more than to dip a finger in and taste your wetness on his tongue. He had no doubt you would taste divine.

You muttered again in your sleep and shifted on the bed. This time laying on your back and opening your legs wide. Taehyung shoved his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself from moaning as he peeked down and saw your bare pussy on display.

His heart was pounding and his cock was twitching painfully in his pants. You must have pleasured yourself right after dinner. He wondered what got you so worked up and for a brief moment wondered if it had to do with bringing him a towel.

Taehyung snickered when he thought of you getting turned on at the mere thought of him naked behind a door and thought it was the sexiest thing in the world that you made yourself cum because of him.

He carefully grabbed the blankets and threw them over you before he took things too far as you smiled and hummed in your sleep.

Tae could feel the persistent throbbing of his cock as he tucked you in and tried his best to stay as gentlemanly as possible.

Once he left the room he made his way to the downstairs bathroom and closed the door. Within moments he had his cock out and was jerking himself off harshly as his mind replayed the image of you naked and wet in your bed, the way your pussy lips were all puffy and sodden with your arousal. For a brief moment, he once again wondered if you had cum at the thought of him and that alone set him off as he threw his head back and a broken moan left his lips, the veins on his neck bulged as hot ropes of cum coated his fist as Taehyung’s hips jerked as he rode out his high.

Once Taehyung was all cleaned he went back upstairs and knocked on your door loudly. He could hear you wake in your room and he announced that the bonfire was on if you wanted to come out. He didn’t wait for you to answer, instead, he grabbed the bottles of water and headed out with a knowing smirk on his face.

The next morning Taehyung was awoken early once again.

He fully expected it to be Jimin wanting to go on another early morning adventure but he was shocked to see it was you leaning over his bed and biting at your lip shyly.

Even though Taehyung had jerked off last night it seemed his body was still prone to morning erections and he scrunched up the blankets to cover his lap as you stood next to the bed in shorts and an oversized sweater.

The memory of yesterday played through his mind as you stood there and it took him a moment to realize you were speaking.

“Sorry Bug I’m not awake yet. Repeat that?” He said sitting up but keeping the blankets firm on his lap as his erection throbbed.

“I wanted to go on a boat ride and wanted to know if you would come with me. I tried to wake Jimin but he’s dead to the world right now.” You said in a small voice running a hand through your hair and looking nervous.

Taehyung felt his heart hammer in his chest as he nodded.

“Uh yeah sure. Just write a note to the parents and let them know I’m coming with you. Let me get changed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen?” He said in his deep morning voice as you shot him a dazzling smile and left his room.

Taehyung willed his morning hard-on to go down as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He stared out the window to see the first rays of the sun and quickly got changed into some mesh shorts and a shirt, opting once again to bring a sweater as he threw his hat over his head and exited the room.

You were scribbling a note on the small pad kept in the kitchen and Taehyung sucked in a breath when he saw the shorts you were wearing that hardly covered your ass and the baggy sweater that made it look like you were wearing nothing at all underneath.

Just like yesterday.

Taehyung forced himself to think about anything else but that as you smiled up at him and you both made your way across the dew-covered grass and to the dock.

The sun was casting a warm glow over everything and Tae quickly shucked off his sweater and left it on one of the chairs as you got to work getting the boat unhooked from the dock.

The only sounds on the lake were the cicadas and the birds overhead as Tae sat in the front and let you steer the boat as you easily navigated the small channels of the lake expertly.

“Dunno why they won’t let you take the boat on your own. You're a natural Y/N.” He musses as he smiles back at you.

“What it’s Y/N now? And not Bug?” You tease as Taehyung feels his face flush and his blinks slowly at you.

Were you…flirting with him?

Yesterday you were all flustered at his flirting and now you were beating him at his own game.

The alarm bells were going off in his head. Last night was hot as hell and he would remember it forever but the morning had also brought a painful realization. This was Jimin’s sister. This was someone he grew up with… a family he could almost call his own. He didn’t want to ruin things or make them awkward by thinking something was there if it wasn’t.

But the way you looked at him when he innocently asked for a towel. The way he walked in with you half-naked sprawled out on your bed. That had to mean something…right?

A new-found confidence surged in Taehyung as he decided to test out his theory.

“Well, I think you're getting a little old for Bug now. You're a grown woman after all” Tae mutters as a fish jumps a couple of miles out and you both startle.

“Glad you finally noticed I’m grown up. Took you long enough” You tease back as you navigate the boat further away from the cottage until it is a pinprick in the distance.

Taehyung feels hot all over and is grateful he ditched his sweater.

“Of course I noticed. You aren’t our little bug anymore.” He responds dipping his hand in the cool lake water as you turn the boat.

“Our little bug or your little bug? You were the only one to call me that Taetae.” You muse as his eyes widen and he licks his lips.

This is flirting

This is definitely flirting.

The alarm bells are still blaring in his head because this is Jimin’s sister after all but Tae can’t help himself as he scoops up some water and flings it backward successfully hitting you and making you shriek which echoes across the lake.

Taehyung throws his head back and laughs until you scoop up some water and fling it at him soaking his bare arms and making him shiver.

“Bug!” he whines as you throw your head back and laugh and navigate the boat to a small inlet parking it safely on the shore and getting out before a full-on water fight can break out.

“Thought I was too old for Bug? No takebacks now!” You call out hopping out of the boat.

Taehyung scrambles after you and you giggle as you throw yourself on the ground and sit back on your hands tilting your face up to the bright blue sky.

He flops down on the dewy grass and adjusts his cap as you smile at him and pull the sweater over your legs to cover them.

“I’m gonna keep calling you bug if you play dirty like that. Flinging water at me. Aren’t you supposed to respect your elders?” He teases tilting his head playfully as you grin.

“That’s not playing dirty Tae. If I wanted to play dirty I’d do this.”

Before he can think you are on top of him tackling him to the ground and pinning his hands over his head. You push your entire weight into his body to keep him down and both of your giggles can be heard echoing over the quiet of the lake.

Your hands are so small and dainty as you pin him down and when you grin down at him in satisfaction Tae can’t help but feel his heart thrumming rapidly in his chest.

“That’s all you got?” He goats as he easily flips you over so this time your back is pushed into the grass and he takes your arms and expertly holds them over your head. His hands are so large he can hold both your wrists with one hand as the other holds onto your shoulder to keep you pinned.

“Now you’re playing dirty!” You whine as Taehyung shoots you a grin and his eyes wander over your face.

From the mischievous gleam in your eyes to your hair which is splayed out on the grass, to the little freckle right under your lip.

His eyes widen when you lick your lips and he comes to the sudden realization that you are under him.

He is holding you hostage with one hand and you are under him

And his cock is achingly hard and pressing into your side.

Holy fuck.

By the look on your face, he can tell you feel his hard cock pressing into your hip and you both stay frozen in time staring at each other in shock.

Taehyung opens his mouth to apologize though he isn’t sure what he is even supposed to say in this situation, this was what he wanted after all, but you stop him by pushing your hips up to make his hard cock press into you harder.

Taehyung lets out a shuddering breath and his eyes flutter closed as you smirk and try to shift under him to get his cock to press into your core.

Taehyung doesn’t know what to do. Or say. He feels like his brain is short-circling and his lips are dry as he licks them and continues to stare at you.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as you both stare into each other’s eyes. You feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing into your stomach and when you grind against it Tae lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core making you throb.

“Taetae.” You breathe out breaking the silence as he finally blinks and slowly pulls away as if the trance you had him in is suddenly broken.

He pulls away from you forcefully and sits beside you bringing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his hands. This is more than innocent flirting and even though every part of his body is screaming at him to get his hands on you the rational part of his brain takes over and reminds him you are Jimin’s sister. This was more than innocent flirting. And this could go really bad really quick.

You slowly sit up and feel flushed as you look over at Tae who is taking off his hat and messing with his hair again.

“I-we gotta. I should. Fuck I should apologize I’m so sorry about that. Ohmygod.” Tae stammers as he finally looks at you.

“Taehyung you have nothing to be sorry about.” You say softly as the wind makes the boat knock against the shore and the sun peaks higher over the mountains.

“I didn’t mean to-I mean you were under me- and I- I swear it was an accident.” He stammers as a blush coats his cheeks making him look so sweet and cute.

The poor boy was so flustered from getting hard it made you smile.

“Tae you had me under you and you got hard. It’s biology. It’s normal. I’m not mad I’m actually flattered.” You admit raking a hand through your hair

“F-Flattered?” He asks still looking agonized over the whole thing so you scoot closer to him and grin.

“Yes flattered that my brother’s sexy best friend somehow got even hotter this year and gets turned on when I’m pinned under him”

Taehyung’s jaw drops and you can’t help but let out a giggle at his reaction.

“If it makes you feel better I think it was hot as fuck to have you on top of me.” You admit shyly as Taehying stares at you.

“I-Uh I’m sorry I think my brain is malfunctioning you think I’m hot?” He asks biting at his lips.

“Of course Taehyung you have always been hot.” You say as if it was a common fact.

“Well fuck.”

“And correct me if I’m wrong you think I’m hot too.” You tease wiggling your eyebrows at him as you gesture down to his lap.

Taehyung swallows thickly.

“You're also Jimin’s sister.” He says firmly.

“I don’t see him around do you?”

Taehyung bites his lip and looks conflicted so you decide to take charge.

“Taetae. I’ve always found you attractive. I almost jumped you when you asked me to hand you a towel. I was so flustered and turned on at the thought of you being naked. Dear god the things you do to me.” You say boldly as you slide your body closer to his and run a fingernail up his bare arm.

“I-You can’t say stuff like that. I’m not gonna be able to control myself.” He groans which makes your pussy throb and your heart race.

“Who says you have to control yourself? Isn’t giving in so much more fun?”

Taehyung swallows hard and feels his cock harden once more, straining against his shorts and aching painfully.

“Want to know a secret? I didn’t control myself last night. I came on my fingers at the thought of you wet and naked in the shower.” You say voice dropping low as goosebumps coat his arms and he shivers.

“I-I know. I came in and you were sprawled on the bed…n..naked and I saw. I’m so sorry I covered you up right away.” He says throat bobbing nervously.

“Mhmm did you like what you saw Taetae? My pretty pussy on display for you. Soaking wet for you”

Taehyung can’t handle it anymore. His cock is hard, his balls ache, and the thought of you touching yourself because of him makes the cord snap and he throws all his morals out the window as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for a harsh kiss.

You moan against his lips and tangle your hands at the nape of his neck when he kisses you. His lips mold to yours perfectly and he tastes sweet, so Taehyung, you can’t help but push harder into him desperate for more.

You rip the hat off his head and tangle your fingers in his hair and he grunts in your mouth when you pull on them slightly as you shift your body so you are now sitting on his lap.

You can feel the hot ridge of his cock pressing against you and when you grind down on it Taehyung pulls his lips away from yours and moans against your throat.

“I-I want you so bad.” He growls as he presses hot wet kisses to your neck. You cry out his name and tilt your head back to give him more access and you continue to grind slowly against his clothed bulge.

“Take me Tae. I’m all yours.” You whimper as he pulls away and cups your cheeks with his long fingers.

“What about Jimin? He’s my best friend. I mean. I think we should talk this out first.” He says as he gazes at you softly.

“Tae I’m going to be honest I want you to fuck me. Right now I don’t want a relationship I just want a good fuck. Something my ex could never give me. Show me how good it can be?” You plead batting your eyelashes.

“He didn’t fuck you?” He asks softly as one hand leaves your face to trace lines up and down your thighs.

“He did…doesn’t mean it was good though.” You admit sadly.

“That fucker.” Tae swears and you smirk as you lean forward to press kisses to his neck.

“This doesn’t have to be a big thing. We both get to have mindblowing sex and that can be it. As for Jimin. He doesn’t need to know Taetae. It can be our secret.”

Taehyung nods wordlessly and grabs your jaw to tilt your head back. He begins to pepper kisses along your jawline and you moan and grind down on his cock, giving him the delicious friction he craves.

“God you feel so good on top of me.” He whines out.

“Thought you liked me under you?” You tease.

Taehyung cocks an eyebrow and within seconds you are under him once more and his hands are grabbing at your sweater trying to pull it off your head.

You help him get it off and he lets out a low whine when he sees you are only in a crop top with no bra and the cool morning air has your nipples poking through the shirt.

“You did this on purpose didn’t you?” He asks as you bite your lip and squeeze your legs to help with some of the ache.

Taehyung gets his large hands under your shirt and begins to palm at your nipples making electricity run down your body and your pussy pathetically throb. His fingers are so long, so perfect against your skin it makes you gasp as he rubs your nipples expertly.

You are sure you have soaked your underwear at this point and when Taehyung lifts your shirt higher and leans his face down so he can suck at your nipple you know you are a goner.

Your hands tangle in his hair as he sucks and licks at your nipples humming against your skin making you arch into his warm wet mouth.

He presses hot open-mouthed kisses down your body and when he gets to your shorts you lift your hips as he pulls them down in one swoop taking your underwear with them.

“Fuck you are a vision all spread out for me.” He says shamelessly squeezing his cock over his clothes as you reach to take off his shirt to see him too.

You are met with miles of tanned toned skin and your mouth waters when he shoots you a cocky grin.

“Can I stretch you out so you can take my cock? Is that okay baby?” He asks before slotting two fingers inside your body causing a broken moan to leave your lips and your body to arch up into his touch.

Taehyung’s fingers are long and dainty. When they pump in and out of you and stretch out your walls you find yourself moaning out his name and he grins devilishly as he brings you closer to your high.

“Fuck you are squeezing my fingers, baby. Gonna be so tight on my cock.” He growls as another finger comes up to slowly play with your clit and you throw back your head and cry out his name.

Just as the sun clears the mountains you cum around Taehyung’s skilled fingers.

He coaxes you through it with ease and you whine and thrash under him as your whole body is taken by your orgasm.

You are slumped in the grass breathing heavily when he finally pulls his fingers out and when he pops them in his mouth you swear your pussy throbs again as if you didn’t just cum.

He lets you take your time coming down and when you finally regain your breath you sit up and flip him over with ease straddling his lap and clawing at his shorts to get them off.

Taehyung assists you in getting them off and when his heavy cock slaps against his stomach you nearly moan at the sight.

His cock is rock hard and flushed the prettiest red color. The head is shiny with arousal and the vein that runs on the underside is thick and slightly throbbing.

You waste no time circling his cock with your hand and Taehyung moans when you start to jerk him off expertly running your hand up and down his velvety shaft.

His cock is impossibly hard in your hand and when the head leaks more precum you can’t help but lower down to lick it from Taehyung’s cock making him claw at the ground under him and whine out your name.

“Fuck I- I touched myself to the thought of you last night. Came so hard” He admits as you snicker and begin to jerk his shaft in longer strokes causing him to arch into your touch.

“I-You gotta- You gotta stop I don’t wanna cum like this.” He grunts as you ignore his pleas and instead surprise him by bringing your mouth to his cock and sucking him down hallowing out your cheeks and soaking in all the noises that are leaving his pretty mouth.

“Y/N P-please.” He cries out as you pop off of his cock and grin down at his fucked out expression.

“I-I gotta be inside you.” Taehyung pleads as he sits up and lays you back down on the grass. You open your legs and Taehyung swears under his breath as his long fingers come to jerk off his cock as he positions it at your entrance

“Wait. I don’t have anything. Fuck.” He says lightly smacking his forehead.

You giggle, reach for your discarded sweater, and grab the condom that was hidden in the front pocket. You grin as you hand it to Taehyung.

“So you had this all planned out huh?” He taunts as he expertly rips open the packet and rolls the condom on his hard length, giving it a couple of long slow strokes.

“I said I wanted to be fucked properly I was hoping it would be by you.” You tease back as he presses his tip into your entrance and you hiss when he pushes himself inside.

Even though you came on his fingers his cock still stretches you out and when he finally bottoms out you can feel your walls clamping around him.

He hovers over you and brushes the hair back from your face delicately as he presses small soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

“Relax for me love. I can’t fuck you properly if you are so tense” He coos as you take several deep breaths and slowly shift your hips to adjust to his size and girth.

Taehyung looks so handsome on top of you with a soft smile on his face and his curled locks falling in front of his lust-filled eyes.

“Fuck me Tae. Please god fuck me.” You cry out when your body adjusts and Tae smiles wickedly as he pounds into you sending you moaning on the grass.

Taehyung alternates between ramming his cock into you and circling his hips seductively to get his cockhead to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Such a slut for me Y/N. Getting yourself off last night. Bringing a condom today. You wanted to be fucked so bad by me I bet you couldn’t stand it could you.” He coos dangerously low in your ear which makes you shiver and cling to his back.

“What were you thinking of when you touched yourself? Tell me, Bug.” He demands as another thrust of his hips makes his cock hit that spot inside you that has you whining out his name and feeling your orgasm build in your stomach.

“Y-You in the shower. Naked.” You cry out as one hand comes down to play with your clit as he continues to drag his cock in and out of you making you cry out his name.

“Mmm you were all big talk a couple of minutes ago and now you’ve gone dumb on my cock. How cute.” He teases as he thrusts harder and his hips stutter a bit causing you to once again cry out his name.

“Tae please mo-more. Fuck me dumb.” You sob out as he does as he’s asked and begins to thrust into you harder. He grabs your hips and pins you to the ground holding you there as his hips fuck wildly into you making your orgasm approach rapidly.

“Fuck baby you are clenching around me. Gonna cum already? Being so naughty fucking your brother’s best friend. Such a slut.” He muses.

Every drag of his cock against your walls brings you closer to the edge and you can’t help but close your eyes and throw your head back as Taehyung continues to give you the best fuck of your life. His mouth is sloppily peppering kissing along your jawline and he is groaning in your ear as he pounds into you harshly.

“F-Full… so full of your cock Tae fuck you are so big” You whine out as he grins.

“Who’s making you feel this good huh? Who’s fucking your pussy this good?” He demands as his fingers dance across your nipples making you cry out.

“You.”

“Try again bug. I want the whole lake to hear who is fucking your pussy this good.”

“Taehyung fuck!” You scream as he chuckles darkly in your ear.

You gasp when he grabs your jaw and forces you to stare at him. He looks dangerous on top of you. Eyes gleaming with lust, lips drawn into a knowing smirk and when his tongue comes out to lick at his lips you swear you are done for as you feel your pussy flutter around him.

“I want you to keep those eyes open bug. Want you to see who is fucking you right. Shit. Your fucking ex wishes he was buried in this pussy right now. You are so wet for me.” He moans.

The noises between you are obscene making you cream his cock even more and when his hand comes down to play with your clit it sets you off.

You can hardly cry out his name before you are arching up and clamping around his cock. Your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you close your eyes and bury your face in his shoulder as you ride it out.

“Close,” Tae warns you as you come down from your high, and when you smirk and thrust your hips down to meet his sloppy thrusts he loses it and cums hard inside you.

His grunts are music to your ears and he sounds heavenly as you feel his cock twitch deep inside you.

You rub his back and let him ride out his high and when he slumps against you a giggle leaves your mouth as you feel giddiness bubble up.

Taehyung slowly pulls out, discards the condom in a nearby trash can, and sits back down next to you. The sun fully rises as you both silently get dressed and when you head to the boat Taehyung can’t help but hold your hand.

You make your way back to the cottage as if nothing happened and when you finally get the boat tied to the dock Taehyung stares at you.

“That was incredible Y/N. I’m kinda sad it’s a one-time thing.” He admits shyly scratching the back of his neck.

Before you can answer Jimin is making his way down the dock and you both straighten up as he approaches.

You and Tae were both careful about not leaving marks but you wonder if your brother will be able to see the blush that is currently staining your face.

“A boat ride without me? Really? I wanted to go.” He whines hands on his hips as Taehyung chuckles.

“I tried to wake you, believe me, Chim you were dead to the world. Taetae came with me though.” You said nonchalantly as you grabbed your sweater from the bottom of the boat and sent a cheeky smile Taehyung’s way

He came with you alright.

“You’re lucky I saved you breakfast at all. You tradiors. Also, Y/N what’s with your hair? It has twigs in it?” Jimin asks suspiciously as you swallow hard.

“I was steering and thought it would be funny to run Bug into a low-hanging tree branch.” Taehyung covers as you shoot him a grateful look and Jimin laughs.

Him calling you bug takes on a whole other meaning after he fucked you and you can’t help but feel arousal pool in your panties at his words.

“You two are such dorks. Come on breakfast is ready.” Jimin says turning his back and heading back up to the cottage.

With your brother’s back turned you take a chance and grab Taehyung’s arm to pull him down to you, just enough so you can whisper in his ear

“Who said it was a one-time thing?”

You giggle when you take in his shocked expression and you skip ahead to catch up with your brother.

Taglist

@caught-in-the-afterglow

@hearteyes4hobi

@m00njinnie

@stayonmars

@marihoneywk

@mustbeaweasleyginger

@xmspurple7x

@taekritimin123

@lerasi

@dejaariana

[koqabear]

Killer Instinct

× Playlist ×

“Beomgyu knows better than to get himself involved in that shady fight club you always warn him about— but he never listens to you, and despite how much you beg him to leave that place alone, you don’t find yourself to be too surprised when he starts bringing those same people you warned him about to you.”

MMA Fighter! Taehyun x fem!reader 

Genre: underground fight club! au, mma fighter!taehyun, enemies to lovers, thriller/action, angst, smut

Word count: 37.4K

Warnings: general violence. (This is an mma au; fighting, blood, injuries, etc.) illegal activities (underground clubs, gambling, etc) older!mc (3 years gap), use of the word “noona”, talks about family issues, single parenting, tae is a little bitch, weapons, (knives, guns), stabbing, cigarette smoking, mc is also a bitch (they’re mean to each other), medical inaccuracies probably sksjsj, a bit of jealousy… mentions of bullying, mentions of power imbalance & manipulation, alcohol consumption, mentions of death & coping, mma inaccuracies bc i am not a professional!!

Smut warnings: dom!tae, sub!mc, mc is slightly bratty, manhandling, breast play, marking, biting, oral (f. rec), bro is a pussy fiend, (service top!tae? maybe?) hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie(s)

Notes: i’ve worked on this stupid story for so long that i don’t even want to look at it anymore. (/hj.) another warning that idk anything abt mma, so there are definitely inaccuracies! features literally the whole idol industry,,, they're scattered like easter eggs. 

The air is thick and foggy; Taehyun can already feel the sweat beginning to form on his brow the moment he enters, pushed around like a rag-doll from the full capacity of the room. No one bothers to spare him a glance— he’s a nobody, a clueless figure that’s given away from the sheer curiosity that breaks through his eyes. The poor boy is forced to hold in a cough as someone proceeds to blow cigarette smoke in his face; he hears a few mocking chuckles around him. 

None of that matters, though. The flickering, weak lights overhead manage to spotlight his objective perfectly, his eyes lighting up with wonder as he feels a grin threatening to spread on his face; before him, two unknown men stand in a ring. 

Taehyun’s muscles twitch in attention— his mind is racing, imagining himself in their place as he watches the two slowly circle each other, wondering what he would do if he were in their place; even from here, Taehyun can see the hungry look on one of the men’s faces, a bloody grin stuck on his face as he keeps his hands up and close— his hair is tied up and out of his face as he stares his opponent down. 

It’s tense, wild even, as he finally swings, landing a punch to the other man’s stomach as the crowd around the ring roars— in approval or dread, he isn’t sure entirely. It’s a mixture of everything, men and women alike gesturing wildly as their screams blend in with the crowd; all to form a violent audience, closing in hysterically on the ring in hopes of getting a good view. 

Taehyun feels adrenaline coursing through him— it’s contagious. 

He fights the urge to try and push through, curious to see what might be going on as a sudden unanimous roar sweeps through the crowd. His eyes dart wildly, watching people celebrate, clapping each other on the backs as they cheer; others don't share the feeling, upset or even angry as he finds people being held back from trying to get on the ring— security is quick to put an end to it, though. 

And as he slowly watches the crowd scatter, he sees the same man from before circling the ring, bloody and bruised as he walks back to the referee; his arm is thrust up by the official as his supporters cheer in victory. Eyes scanning the room, his eyes briefly land on Taehyun’s before he’s back to gloating, proud despite the clear beating he took himself. 

Taehyun can feel his ambitious heart beat faster— he doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but he wants to be up there next. 

The buzz of it all is quick to calm down; it’s as though nothing happened, and he notices the way the unconscious man gets picked up and carried towards an infirmary— taking in his condition, Taehyun shudders, trying to shake it off before he looks for his target.

“‘scuse me,” Taehyun says, voice rough and as confident as he can get it to be— he hopes the referee can’t see through his act of bravery. The man barely spares him a glance before he nods, seemingly able to see what he’s here for— the small quirk of his lips is more mocking than anything to Taehyun. 

“What do you want, kid,” the unamused tone of the man before him isn’t very encouraging— for a moment, Taehyun almost feels foolish for stepping inside such a foreign ground without proper connections; he’s quick to push the feeling away, much too used to the patronizing looks he gets for being a newcomer. 

“Get me in the ring,” he can’t seem unsure now— if anything, any ounce of hesitation will get him denied immediately. Taehyun is demanding, jaw clenched and gaze hard as he stares at the older man before him; his eyes narrow at the younger’s words, and for a second Taehyun wonders if he took the wrong approach. 

“You got money to bet?” The older man’s words only bring excitement to Taehyun— he can’t hold back his eager nod, ignoring the man’s amused chuckles as he reaches into his duffle bag; carefully, he pulls out a thick wad of cash, allowing it to peek slightly out of his bag as he glances back up at the referee— judging by the smug look on his face, Taehyun is sure that what he’s brought is more than enough. 

“Good boy,” the referee whistles, but Taehyun chooses to ignore his blatant mockery as he tucks the envelope back in. 

“Jin,” the man introduces himself, offering his hand out in the introduction— Taehyun takes it, the smooth leather of Jin’s black gloves stained with blood as he holds the younger’s hand tightly; he tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice the blood smudge onto his skin, attempting to wipe it off without being noticed. “Let’s go get you on the registry, I’ll see if I can find another newbie for you.”

“Taehyun,” he says, following obediently as Jin weaves through the crowd effortlessly. Taehyun, however, isn’t as lucky, struggling to keep up as everyone seemingly goes out of their way to get in his path— it isn’t long before Taehyun resorts to pushing roughly through the faceless people. 

“Newbie? I don’t—“ Taehyun grunts as someone shoulder checks him, turning to the side roughly as he attempts to keep his sight on Jin; slowly, he’s able to catch up, “Don’t put me up against a newbie.” 

The curious glance Jin spares is enough for Taehyun to get the confidence to continue. 

“Put me up with someone experienced— all or nothing.” 

Jin can’t control the laugh that escapes him at the younger’s words; his head is thrown back, briefly catching the attention of those around him as he stops before the bar. Leaning against the wooden counter, Jin’s act quickly becomes unamusing to Taehyun as he’s forced to watch as the older man attempts to regain his composure. When he does, Taehyun can feel his jaw tick— pure mockery fills Jin’s eyes.

“You even know how to fight, kid?” Taehyun says nothing, afraid of what might come out if he chooses to open his mouth. But his steely gaze is enough for Jin, who reluctantly holds his hands up in surrender—he can tell there’s still a reluctance in the man to take him seriously. 

“Fine, I’ll give you your money’s worth,” Jin mutters, glancing back at the black duffle bag that remains secured at Taehyun’s side, “from the amount you showed me, I’m sure I could get The Bear’s attention.” 

“The Bear?” Taehyun echoed, frowning at the name. Jin only scoffs, rolling his eyes at the title. 

“I know. Stupid, isn’t it? Whatever sticks, I guess,” the referee grumbled, clearly displeased at the thought of having to announce any ridiculous names— clearing his throat, Jin squared his shoulders as he shot Taehyun a smug smile. 

“The one who just won— that’s The Bear,” Jin explains, narrowing his eyes as he gauged Taehyun’s expression, “I saw you staring— you stick out badly— and I know you wanna have a go at him.”

Solemnly, Taehyun nods— Jin only sighs at that.

“Of course,” he runs a hand through his hair, seemingly unfazed by the uncleanliness of his gloves, “everyone does.”

Taehyun wondered if Jin berated every newcomer like this— he wouldn’t put it past the referee, quite honestly. It hadn’t been long since they met, but this short amount of time had Taehyun wondering if the older man even wanted to be a part of this place; slowly, a fire lights in Jin’s eyes, leaving Taehyun confused as he watches the man let out a cruel laugh; his eyes were no longer on Taehyun’s, but instead at a very distant point behind him— one glance over his shoulder and he was able to see victor from before approaching— The Bear. 

“Cocky, faceless fighters like you,” Jin calls out, bringing Taehyun’s attention back as the younger’s eyes meet his— something is threatening within them, and Taehyun wished that he didn’t feel a sense of danger lick up his body as a grin overtook the referee’s face, “I love watching them get put in their place.”

Taehyun was unable to say anything to that— Jin’s expression seemed to light up as he pushed himself off the bar, his gloved hand slapping on Taehyun’s shoulder, startling the boy as he felt himself turned around forcefully— any angry comments died on his tongue as Jin pulled him into his side, walking forward as he called out a foreign name: Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu!” Jin calls out, grinning wildly as he forces Taehyun to follow along. Like before, Taehyun is turned into nothing but a rag-doll, fighting back the urge to shake him off as they approach the man— he can feel the curious stares of the patrons dig into him, and Taehyun begins to wonder what he got himself into as Seokjin’s fingers dig into his shoulder— almost as though he were preventing him from running away. 

One look at the man before him has Taehyun’s nerves on fire— were they really going to let him fight like this? The man before him is bruised and bloody, refusing to stop at the infirmary as he shrugs on his coat; slowly, a grin overtakes his features, a slight wince stopping him as his cut lip reopens— Taehyun can hear the man curse under his breath. 

“Who’s this?” Though Beomgyu’s eyes remain on Taehyun’s, he’s not truly talking to the newcomer; Jin is quick to respond, shaking the young boy teasingly as he laughs.

“Taehyun,” Jin says, patting the boy’s shoulder as he glances at him, “says he wants to have a go at you.” 

Beomgyu quirks a brow at that— he’s clearly amused, letting out a soft huff as he’s crossing his arms over his bare torso; Taehyun can already spot dark bruises forming in certain spots, his thin and reddened fingers tapping at his bicep impatiently as he surveys Taehyun.

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu drawls, tilting his head as though he were in thought, “I don’t wanna scare the poor kid off by giving him a good beating.”

This, Taehyun decides, is about all he can put up with; shrugging Jin’s hand off his shoulder, he scoffs, stepping forward and coming face to face with Beomgyu— the man isn’t even much taller than him, and he seems to be around his age too— yet the arrogance pours off him in waves, looking at Taehyun as though he were lesser than him— yet, he hasn’t seen what Taehyun can do. 

Beomgyu doesn’t seem phased by any of this; it’s like the smug look on his face is permanent, his head held high as Taehyun takes a moment to survey him. The air is tense as the patrons at the bar become aware of what’s happening before them; it isn’t long before they’re all taunting either Taehyun or Beomgyu, encouraging them to fight in hopes that they’ll get another show.

“If anything, I should be the one worried for you,” Taehyun mutters, a fake look of sympathy crossing his face at the thought, his voice patronizing as he continues, “I wouldn’t wanna ruin your pretty face.”

A pause. Beomgyu’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing as he fights back the smile that itches to show; shaking his head, he scoffs, enjoying the way Taehyun’s fiery gaze seems to burn into his skin. He sighs— it’s long and labored, his head thrown back as he shakes his bangs out of his face— then he reaches out, clapping Taehyun on his shoulder as he looks at Jin, nodding in approval. 

“Get us in the next best slot,” Beomgyu says, and the spectators seem to grow more excited with his every word. Glancing back at Taehyun, he smiles; it’s mischievous and sly, but Taehyun doesn’t allow it to get to him as he stands his ground. “I need to freshen up.”

The room is buzzing with energy as everyone seems to spread out, watching Beomgyu disappear into the locker room before they begin to bet on the results; Taehyun grimaces at the number of people who are already betting against him. 

“Seems like you bit off more than you can chew,” Jin whispers, leaning in as he bumps against Taehyun playfully. “You got twenty minutes; pray if you need to.” 

Taehyun grits his teeth as Seokjin walks back to the bar, leaning in towards the bartender as they talk, glancing back at Taehyun before they’re laughing and nodding— it doesn’t take a genius to guess what they’re talking about. Readjusting the strap of his duffle bag, Taehyun has no choice but to make his way into the locker room; he just hopes The Bear can save his temper for the match. 

It wasn’t as though he wanted to provoke the man— if anything, it was the last thing he wanted to do. But, it wasn’t long before Taehyun realized that being nice wouldn’t get him anywhere; luckily for him, he didn’t truly mind. 

The locker room is small, just as Taehyun expected; the lighting is dim and there isn’t much room to move due to the benches that line the walkways— Taehyun frowns at the inconvenient layout. At the end of the wall to his left, he finds a doorway to another room— he catches a glimpse of showers and bathroom stalls; the water runs on that side of the room, and Taehyun can already guess who might be behind the flimsy wall that separates them. Sighing, Taehyun looks for the nearest empty locker.

The sound of running water fills Taehyun’s head, blocking out everything else as he begins to think— attempting to remember all the moves Beomgyu used, trying to decipher his fighting style; his mind raced with different possibilities he could use to counter him. 

“Hey,” Taehyun is ripped out of his reverie at the firm voice, his head snapping up at the realization that they were talking to him; turning around, he’s unfazed to find The Bear staring at him blankly. 

“First time in the cage?” He asks, tilting his head as he surveys Taehyun curiously. Taehyun shakes his head in response, watching as Beomgyu only nods thoughtfully at that. It’s clear he took a moment to patch himself up, but it’s still strange to Taehyun that he’s willing to go for another match so soon— his cockiness only fuels Taehyun further. 

“It sure does look like it.” Beomgyu doesn’t bother lingering around— he’s ready, clapping Taehyun on the shoulder before he’s walking away, heading back out as he spares Taehyun one last apathetic glance. “Don’t get your hopes up too much, ‘kay? I’ll even go easy on you.” 

Taehyun says nothing. He can feel his jaw clench, trying his best to bite back another comment as he watches the older man exit the locker room; His fists tighten, the feeling of his hands tightening over the material of his wraps allowing him to calm down as he takes a steady breath. Sighing, his head is tilted back, eyes surveying the dim room for a clock— it isn’t long before he spots it above the doorway, calculating how much time he has left to prepare. 

Ten minutes.

That’s more than enough for him.

⊹⊹⊹

The cage is freshly cleaned. It reeks of cleaner and is scuffed and old under Taehyun’s feet. He has no interest in hearing about the fight that went on before his— the bored mumblings of the spectators were enough for him to tune everything out. The seating area wasn’t that big, but it was enough for the people that were more than ready to gamble and waste away from alcohol as they watched; it didn’t take a genius to know that the regulations in the place weren’t very strict. 

There’s someone new standing in the cage— a commentator, Taehyun realizes. He looks like he could be a fighter himself, but the fire in his eyes seems to be curated more for the thrill of commentating every detail of the fights before him. Words spill rapidly from his mouth, but Taehyun can’t bring himself to tune in; his bright platinum hair is glowing, even under the flickering lights, and the commentator’s names manages to slip through the walls of Taehyun’s concentration— Taeyong, with his co-commentator, Jeno. 

It’s clear they’re here to do nothing more than build up tension, making useless comments that make the audience cheer or roar with disapproval. Taeyong is gesturing wildly, pointing to the fighter’s separate corners as he seems to be talking about them; Taehyun can feel the searing stares of the people around him.

Beomgyu stands across from him, his hair pulled back and his face gone dead as he stares at Taehyun— he doesn’t look away for a second. His hands are left at his sides, fingers clenching around his wraps as he tilts his head side to side; Taehyun hears the faint crack of his bones, even from where he stands. He frowns, beginning to feel antsy the longer the commentators take— from the corner of his eye, he sees Jin enter the ring, nodding to Taeyong and Jeno as they shake hands.

Taehyun takes a slow breath, jaw clenching as he feels his teeth bite into his mouth guard. He can feel his impatience growing the longer he stares at The Bear, watching as the man before him only smiles mischievously at him; he’s pacing around his side, eyes pinned to Taehyun as though he were a predator ready to strike. 

The Bear’s eyes light up the moment the two commentators exit the ring. 

Their voices still ring out through the speakers, spewing random things about the scene as Jin beckons the two to approach him. 

“I want a clean, fair fight.” Jin begins, reaching out to clasp the two’s shoulders, “You know the rules. Protect yourself at all times, touch gloves if you want to.” 

A beat passes as Jin glances at the two fighters— Taehyun does nothing; Beomgyu only grins at that. 

Sighing, Jin backs away from the two, clapping his hands before he points back to their respective sides. 

“Back to your corners,” Jin yells, huffing as he backs away, mumbling under his breath as he does so, “let’s get this over with.”

Taehyun’s hands come up instinctively, eyes narrowing as he waits for the familiar sound of the bell. Beomgyu does the same, his stance opening as an undeniable smile graces his lips; if Taehyun didn’t know better, he’d almost think this was nothing but a game to him.

His body tenses the moment the bell rings throughout the room, his mind racing as he watches Beomgyu begin to make his way to him.

Nothing happens at first; they circle each other, Taehyun’s feet pacing quickly around the cage as he waits for a good opening. The useless chatter of the commentators threatens to break his concentration, but he knows better than to pay attention to anything other than the man before him. 

Beomgyu throws the first punch. A sharp jab is directed toward his head, but it doesn’t land as Taehyun sharply moves away. Everything changes in an instant; the moment Beomgyu puts his arm out is the moment Taehyun begins to look for a weakness. It’s a rapid flow of punches and dodges, the commentators making a fuss over everything as nothing connects properly.

Beomgyu’s punches are strong; Taehyun’s forearms ache at the impact, jumping back the moment Beomgyu attempts to land a kick— a liver shot, Taehyun realizes with a small smile. 

The two boys are equally matched, and it isn’t long before the crowd catches onto that fact— suddenly the fight has become more interesting, and Taehyun can sense everyone’s eyes on them as he watches Beomgyu prep for another kick, the minuscule mistake of his rear hand coming down giving Taehyun the perfect opening. 

Taehyun’s body twists violently, his right hand swinging around as he aims for Beomgyu’s head; the impact sends the crowd roaring. 

He feels his fist come in contact with a wound from his previous fight, his brow splitting back open as Beomgyu winces at the feeling— he wobbles slightly from the shock, his eye squinting as blood begins to trickle down.

“You motherfucker,” Beomgyu’s lips read, snarling at Taehyun as his guard seems to be raised. His arms immediately come back up, protecting his head as another of Taehyun’s punches threatens to connect. With his body exposed, Taehyun is unable to stop the kick that shoots straight at him, at the same spot as before; He feels his vision blur for a second as his breath is knocked out of him. 

Beomgyu is coming back for more as the last counts for the round are yelled out. Jabs and kicks are exchanged in rapid fire, and it’s all lost in a blur of motion as the two attempt to weaken the other— the bell rings, signaling the end of the round. 

Back in his corner, Taehyun is surprised to find that Beomgyu has no coach. He’s just like him, forced to tend to his wounds and think of a new strategy on his own; Taehyun is surprised The Bear was able to land such strong hits with his vision impaired so badly. 

Beomgyu is a ruthless fighter; he has technique and experience, and it seems that all mercy will fly out the window the moment he catches his opponent in a vulnerable spot— Taehyun just needs to make sure to not give him the opportunity.

“Ready?” Jin’s strong yell breaks through both of the fighter’s minds, and it isn’t long before Taehyun finds himself back in the center of the ring, adjusting his mouthpiece as he doesn’t bother paying attention to Jin’s rambles. 

“Knock ‘em out Bear, get this over with,” it’s the only thing that catches Taehyun’s attention, the sharp glare he sends to Jin doing nothing as he’s told to go back to his corner— though he doesn’t miss the smug look that Beomgyu sends him. 

The new round is immediate; there’s a fire in Taehyun’s eyes, his body pumping with adrenaline as he immediately approaches Beomgyu, unsurprised to find that he does the same. His breathing is slightly labored as the exhaustion from the last round seems to be catching up to him, but Taehyun doesn’t let the feeling deter him as Beomgyu attempts to deliver another kick; Taehyun counters it with one of his own. 

Nothing seems to land properly; it’s beginning to frustrate Taehyun, but he knows not to let the feeling linger too long— he’s found himself cornered, and it isn’t long before he’s wrapped up in a clinch; The Bear’s limbs constrict his, tightening around him as he attempts to wrestle him to the ground, his punches directing jabs to his ribs and face— one connects roughly against his nose, and he can already feel the familiar liquid dripping out. It’s painful, but Taehyun doesn’t let the feeling overwhelm him as he tries to break the other’s hold on him.

Though he finds himself on the floor, he’s able to break away from The Bear’s grapple, shaking himself off as he backs away, attempting to reassess the situation before him. 

Something shifts in his opponent. 

Time is running out in the round, and they both seem to realize this as punches are delivered in a more rapid fire. Taehyun hates to think it, but The Bear’s technique is good as his hits begin to fly before him, struggling to keep up as he delivers a few of his own.

One lands against the side of Beomgyu’s head; it manages to break his concentration, the hook breaking through him as it connects harshly to the man’s jaw. Taehyun can already feel his body moving before he realizes, his body seemingly moving on its own like instinct. Beomgyu manages to get a jab of his own, but it does nothing against the next punch that has him stumbling back, his vision spinning as Taehyun continues to go after him, preparing for one final move.

A roundhouse kick— straight to his liver, stunning the man as he feels his body begin to scream at him from the impact, leaving Taehyun stumbling from his horrible footing. He’s only able to get a few more punches out before Beomgyu’s falling, the referee screaming at Taehyun to back away from him the moment he falls back.

Adrenaline fills Taehyun’s body the moment he processes everything.

The crowd roars at the spectacle; Taehyun doesn’t realize what he’s doing as he roams before Beomgyu— his wounds sting and his skin is red and bruised as he grins, teeth gritting against his mouthpiece as he smiles, not bothering to wipe away the blood that drips down from his wounds— the cage is stained with it, a mark of his territory as adrenaline courses through his veins; his eyes scan over the crowd, filled with people who were set on him losing— he can only laugh at the sight.  

“Get up,” Jin yells at Beomgyu, attempting to break through the noise as he pats his cheek, “can you get up?”

Beomgyu’s nod is slow and defeated. He’s sitting up and leaning against the cage as the bell tolls like a deadly gong around him. Peering through his heavy lids, he sees Taehyun’s celebration, in a condition no better than his as he’s stumbling to the center to meet Jin.

“Impressive,” Jin admits quietly, and just like he’s seen before, his hand is thrust up as the audience cheers wildly, the proud grin taking energy from Taehyun as his posture slouches slightly.

Despite looking down at him, Jin looks surprised— impressed, even. The thought makes Taehyun smile as he tilts his head back, squinting at the bright lights that are hot on his skin, a long exhale leaving him as he laughs once more; he was just getting started.

⊹⊹⊹

Taehyun’s head feels as though it’s been split open; he doesn’t really remember what happened after his win. 

He can’t bring himself to move, a deep sigh escaping him as he winces at the bright lights above him; the cot he lays on is stiff, the uncomfortable paper beneath him crinkling as he attempts to get slightly comfortable— his face is stiff with bandages.

Another fight seems to be going on outside; the annoying ramblings of the commentators seem to seep into where he is. Taehyun is too tired to linger around, so he attempts to put the last of his energy into sitting up properly— his thoughts are interrupted by the loud footsteps that approach the room. 

“Beomgyu!” The voice is angry, growling with frustration as the door swings open. Taehyun attempts to look up at the sound, but it’s futile as the curtain around his cot obscures his view. 

“Beomgyu, you fucker!” Taehyun winces— his head is throbbing at the intrusion, and his eyes shut tightly in hopes that the newcomer will shut up soon. “You little snake, you’re dead meat!”

“Can you please quiet down?” The voice that was once taunting and dripping with confidence is now gruff and tired— Taehyun can recognize that voice anywhere, and suddenly, his urge to leave is only amplified. 

“Jesus, I don’t get why you always come here screaming like that,” Beomgyu says, exhaustion sowed in his voice, “It’s not like it’ll change anything.” 

“Fuck! Look at you!” The woman pushes past all his irritated comments, and Taehyun hears both protests from Beomgyu and the crinkling of paper, “I can’t believe you, how the hell am I gonna explain this to your mother? You know she hates it when you sneak over here!” 

“Chill with that, I can handle myself just fine,” Beomgyu scoffs, “You should be more worried about the other guy, anyway— gave him a good beating.” 

Taehyun scoffs at that. 

“The other guy?” The woman says, and before Taehyun can prepare himself, he hears footsteps approaching where he lays— the curtain is ripped away without warning, and Taehyun hisses at the lights that shine in his eyes. 

“Holy shit!”

He’s not sure if he should be offended by that, but Taehyun keeps his eyes shut in hopes that the woman will simply turn her attention back to Beomgyu; he’s surprised to feel her approaching him more. 

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbles, observing Taehyun as though he were a spectacle; Taehyun takes a deep breath, hoping that his patience doesn’t run out soon, “Beomgyu, you prick!”

“Hey,” Taehyun grumbles, brows twitching in frustration as he screws his eyes shut, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scream in my ear.” 

“Oh shit,” The woman jumps back at his words— almost as though she hadn’t expected him to be awake. One look at his angry expression has her quieting down, whispering a soft apology before she’s turning back to Beomgyu. 

“You little snake,” she hisses, whispering angrily as she crosses her arms on her chest angrily, “you were supposed to come help unload the delivery today! You were the only strong one available that day, so imagine your mother’s surprise when you’re nowhere in sight!” 

Peeking through his lids, Taehyun is able to catch a glimpse of the woman stomping over to Beomgyu, slapping his arm roughly as he yelps in response; the sight is almost amusing. 

“I had to lie my ass off and say you were fucking studying!” Another rough smack is delivered to his arm, as though her mentioning the incident brings back pure rage, “Of course she didn’t believe me at first! So I volunteered to do it myself! My arms are so sore, you fucker!” 

“Don’t seem sore to me,” Beomgyu grumbles, rubbing his bicep as he scoots away from the violent woman. “I’ll make it up to you, ___. I promise.”

The woman, ___, only shakes her head in disappointment. Turning back around, she stalks her way back to Taehyun. 

“Sorry about his recklessness,” she says, and Taehyun’s eyes only widen as she bows in apology— he sits up, wincing as he awkwardly attempts to shake her off. Standing straight, she huffs, hands folded neatly in front of her as she sends him a polite smile.

“___,” she introduces, fishing in her pocket for something; a business card, he realizes. “Feel free to stop by for a meal— on the house. I promise we don’t condone that one’s behavior,” Beomgyu quietly dismisses her, saying that he’s not that different from me; his words don’t seem to reach her. 

The card is cool and smooth in his fingers, and Taehyun nods softly as he watches her bow again; then she’s walking back to Beomgyu, sending him a sickly sweet smile as she leans in.

“Two hours. You better be back for the dinner rush. Or else,” wordlessly, she brings up a fist, slamming it into her open palm in a clear threat. Beomgyu gulps, the action not as subtle as he wished as he nods nervously. Straightening up, she smiles, ruffling Beomgyu’s hair before she leaves— it isn’t until then that Beomgyu clears his throat, calling after her hurriedly. 

“Hey,” He yells, pointing at her accusingly— yet she doesn’t turn back around once, his words falling on deaf ears as they watch her retreat, “Stop giving out free meals like that, you’ll go broke doing this shit!” 

Swiftly, she flicks him off. 

Then, she’s gone. 

Taehyun has to stifle a laugh as Beomgyu huffs in bewilderment, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide it the moment Beomgyu sends him a killer glare. From the corner of his eye, Beomgyu runs his hand through his hair desperately, cursing quietly to himself as he stares at the doorway, then glances back up at the clock— it’s silent save for the quiet mutterings of the man next to him. 

The door opens again, and Jin walks inside.

“___ just left?” He asks, leaning against the doorway as he looks expectantly at Beomgyu; he nods, a frustrated look on his face at the very mention of the woman. Jin groans, shaking his head as he lets out a deep sigh. 

“Damn. I promised Jungkook I’d try to make her stay a while.” Beomgyu sneers at that, throwing his pillow at the referee as Jin dodges it with ease, a squeaky laugh escaping him before he throws it back at the younger man. 

“Tell him to go find her at that damn restaurant if he’s so interested,” Beomgyu snarls, rolling his eyes at Jin’s amused reaction. Laying back down, he pulls the curtains back around his cot, his voice muffled as he calls out, “And you better not be thinking about going for that free meal, newbie.”

It becomes Taehyun’s turn to sneer. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu is dead meat.

It’s the only thought that runs through your mind, glaring at the cutting board beneath you as vegetables fly through your hands. All the background noise dies as you allow yourself to think, glancing back at the clock in hopes that the next hour will pass by quickly. 

You’re not sure what led him to involve himself so deeply in that strange underground MMA club. It was dangerous and untrustworthy— you and his mother made sure to drill that into his head the first time you caught him messing around. 

Even so, it seems as though your efforts only fall short in the end. No matter how much you team up with his mother, telling him that he should consider taking up the business in the future, or god forbid, actually focus on college, it always ends up in him shrugging you off dumbly, or waving you off as he tells you not to worry—  he knows what he’s doing. 

You’re on autopilot as you sift through the countless orders, the small open layout of the kitchen allowing you to peek at the entrance from time to time—all in false hopes of seeing the young boy you always pestered.

Two years isn’t much of a difference, but god, Beomgyu made it feel like it was sometimes. Most of the time you felt more like an older sister than an employee at his mother’s restaurant— it wasn’t your fault the man was quite the nuisance, your schedule becoming much more consistent and forcing you to see him practically all the time, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself wrapped up in the Choi family's personal lives. 

Five minutes. You think to yourself, gritting your teeth as the next hour passes, you’ll give him five more minutes.

The next five minutes pass seamlessly. 

Honestly, was two hours not enough? You get that Beomgyu was very particular about his appearance despite his interest, but two hours was more than enough for a person to patch themselves up and come back home. You attempted to not let your frustration show, averting your eyes the moment Ms. Choi appears in your peripheral vision, mumbling in curiosity about where her son might be. 

Another five minutes pass— then, thirty. The restaurant is beginning to fill up as it always does, and you’re trying to hone your concentration in hopes that your undying rage won’t seep through your face. The sound of the bell ringing breaks through your thoughts, and you look up automatically to greet the new customer. 

Your grip on your knife tightens. 

“He—“ Ms. Choi gulps, her jaw dropping at the sight as she turns frantically to you. Taking in your expression she sighs, exasperated as she rubs at her face in frustration. “He wasn’t studying, was he?”  

Making eye contact with Beomgyu, you allow your muscle memory to take over, cutting through the vegetables effortlessly as you grit your teeth, not looking away from him for a second. 

“No ma’am.”

His mother is speechless as she scoffs in frustration, cursing at her son under her breath before she’s taking off her apron— you don’t bother glancing back at the younger boy as you turn back to your cooking, the sounds of the Choi’s hushed bickering reaching your ears as they go to the back. 

It takes a while before Beomgyu emerges, patched up and pouting as walks up behind you. 

“Where do you want me,” he says, petulant with his tone as he glances at the workers around him; they barely spare him a glance, all too used to his behaviors as they focus on their orders instead. You hum in thought, looking up from your stove as you survey the area— like always, Beomgyu has managed to sneak in toward the end of the rush hour; it’s not like you’re short-staffed in the kitchen, either. 

“Go bus tables,” you say, rolling your eyes at the way Beomgyu whines at your words. He’s as annoying as ever, pulling at your sleeves in an attempt to get your attention as you refuse to look at him; shrugging him off, you hear him groan behind you. 

“You never let me help in the kitchen,” he protests, and it takes all the strength within you to not turn around and smack him. 

“If you arrived an hour earlier, you would’ve,” you hiss, waving him off, you walk past him as he opens his mouth to protest more, “get to work.” 

His mumbles and whines still reach your ears as he exits the kitchen— and it only takes one sharp glare from you to shut him up. For the rest of your shift, all you can think is how spoiled this boy remains— he doesn’t know how lucky he is, watching as his mother finally grows soft on him, shooing him back to their home to rest as he meekly nods at her words, putting an act of weakness as he immediately leaves his position— but the smug smile he adorns as he hangs up his apron doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

Sighing, you glance back at the clock— two more hours, then you close. 

⊹⊹⊹

“You’re still here?” 

You refuse to respond to that— instead, you grit your teeth, scrubbing at a stain on the bar as you continue to pre-close. Beomgyu sighs, sitting at the bar as he leans on the counter, seemingly paying no mind to the damp wood that comes in contact with his sleeves. He’s desperate to get your attention, calling your name out softly as you continue to ignore him. 

“Are you closing today? Why is it just you?”

“Sent everyone home. They helped enough.”

If the place remained as empty as it is now, the only thing you would need to do is clean the floors and machines— which takes little to no effort for you. Beomgyu shakes his head at your words, sitting up straight as he folds his hands in his lap. 

“I’ll help,” his words are immediately met with a scoff from you, his brows furrowing as he watches you shake your head in amusement— you only laugh more as he softly questions why you’re laughing. 

“Help?” You say, tilting your head as you finally look at him. Throwing the wet towel on the counter, you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you take a step back. 

“I asked for your help— three hours ago. Yet you still chose to be a brat and go back upstairs the moment your mother pitied you. You—“ cutting yourself off, you sigh, shaking your head before you’re picking the wet towel back off, turning your back to him, “I hope you realize how much she spoils you.” 

A twinge of embarrassment threatens to consume you due to your outburst, for the silence that follows after is entirely unexpected— usually, Beomgyu never knows when to shut his mouth. Then again, he never really knew what to say when the topic of his parent arose; he was afraid of saying something insensitive to you, you suppose. 

Yet you refuse to be the one to cave in— you refuse to even make eye contact with him, walking out of the kitchen area as you go to wipe down tables; it’s then that the small bell above the restaurant door rings. 

Mentally, you sigh— there was less than an hour left; nevertheless, you plaster on a cheery smile, straightening as you glance behind you and to the new customer; stiffening, you wince as you try to not let your surprise show through.

“Welcome,” you grit out, meeting eyes with the same man Beomgyu had beaten to a pulp a couple of hours ago— yet he seems perfectly fine, patched up and unphased as he sends you a somber nod, your worries that he’d be another bitter fighter that tracked Beomgyu down dispelled.

“You—!” Beomgyu is back to his awfully rambunctious self in a split second, twisted around in his seat as he sends the man by the entrance a sour look. “I told you not to come here!” 

Taehyun pays no mind to the dirty looks Beomgyu sends him— if anything, he smiles, ever so casual in his demeanor as he goes to sit down; next to Beomgyu, of course. 

“This place any good?” He asks, his voice gruff as he leans into Beomgyu cheekily, “you seem really eager to keep it hidden.” 

“You kidding? You’re at the hottest spot in town,” Beomgyu scoffs, puffing his chest out as he leers at Taehyun “I doubt you’ve never heard of this place.”

Their conversation becomes nothing but a muffled mess to you. Their tension is unending as they converse, their eyes filled with a fire that suggests that they might just forget about the food and fight here and now— which is why you step in, not wanting to clean up after any more messes as you take Taehyun’s order. 

At some point, you find yourself tuning back into their conversation— their rivalry is ridiculous, the tension rolling off in waves as you take a breath; Turning around, you go to place Taehyun’s order in front of him, reluctant to meet his eyes as you go to leave. 

“Hope I didn’t scare you off today,” Beomgyu goads, ever the instigator as he rests his chin in his hand cheekily, “but then again, you did ask for it.” 

Taehyun scoffs— it’s enough for you to turn back around, watching from afar in fear that Beomgyu will try to take things too far. 

“Don’t act like you left the ring all perfect,” Taehyun tilts his head, brows furrowing as he inspects Beomgyu, “Remind me, who was it that won?” 

You bite back a laugh at that, surprised to hear the results of the fight— it’s easy to do when Beomgyu is sitting up, a clear fire lighting in his eyes as he leans closer to Taehyun; his food remains untouched. You’re tense, watching carefully and waiting for a switch to flip inside Beomgyu; the last thing you want is for his mother to come down and find him in the middle of another fight. 

Instead, Beomgyu smiles; it’s a small twitch of his lips at first, his mind clearly telling him to fight it off before it overtakes him, a bewildered laugh escaping him before he’s clapping Taehyun on the shoulder, the action so rough and sudden that Taehyun is flinching from his touch. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, lost in his thoughts as he continues to laugh— you’re unsure if he’s getting ready to throw a punch or not. 

“You…” Beomgyu grins, letting go of Taehyun with a sigh. He shakes his head, huffing in amusement before he continues, “I like you, you’ve got ambition.”

“The ring’s closed tomorrow, but it’s available for training. I’ve been needing a new sparring partner,” Beomgyu trails off, and Taehyun is quick to catch on as he frowns.

“Tomorrow?” Beomgyu nods in confirmation. It’s silent, and you’re making your way back to them as Taehyun seems to ponder it. 

“You won’t be free tomorrow Beomgyu,” you say, grabbing his attention as you send him a warning smile, “You’re helping with a catering order, remember?”

Beomgyu, shameless like always, only tilts his head in innocence. 

“Really? I don’t recall you telling me about it,” Beomgyu ponders, pouting slightly as you glare at him, “plus, I was told you would be fully staffed tomorrow— if anything, I remember my mother suggesting you give some people a day off.”

You have no patience to deal with his sly ways— your jaw clenches as you suppress the urge to jump at him from across the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you raise a brow in disbelief. 

“If you need help, you could always keep those people on standby,” you’re unsure of what annoys you more— Beomgyu’s smug look, or Taehyun, who has finally decided to eat his food as he watches the two of you, clearly amused by what’s happening before him as he doesn’t even attempt to hide his smile.

“Good idea,” you grit out, leaning toward the younger man as you smile, “I should let your mother know you’ll be out tomorrow then; I’m sure she’ll be wondering where you went off to.”

“You know, for a mere worker, you sure are involved in our personal lives.” Beomgyu’s words are hissed out and sting like acid as your eyes widen, gritting your teeth together as you watch Beomgyu sit back in realization— as though he didn’t know what he said until now. 

“You’re right. Sorry,” you say, a gritted smile on your face as you go to fetch a takeout container; returning, you place it in front of Taehyun, ignoring his curious gaze as you send him a patient smile. 

“We closed fifteen minutes ago; sorry, but you can take the food with you if you’d like— on me. I’ll be back, if you need anything let him know,” jerking your head to Beomgyu, you ignore his attempts to call your attention back to him as you bow politely, quick to excuse yourself to the bathroom in a weak attempt to soothe your hurt and anger. 

The restaurant is quiet save for the soft ticking of a clock that hangs above them; a sound of warning as Taehyun glances subtly at the man next to him— whether Beomgyu picks up on it or not is beyond him. He’s frowning, bottom lip chewed and tugged at as he stares at the doorway which you disappeared through, a hand running repeatedly through his hair as he lets out a soft curse. 

“What was that about?” Taehyun asks— whether or not he’s crossing a boundary, he’s unsure— but he does know that he truly doesn’t care enough to gauge the older man’s reaction. He’s quick to finish his food, surprised by the quality of it as he peeks at Beomgyu from the corner of his eye; watching the way Beomgyu seems to ponder whether or not to talk, inevitably giving in as he lets out a heavy sigh. 

“I fucked up. Said something I shouldn’t have,” standing up, Beomgyu slides the stool he sat on back in, shaking his head as he goes to turn off the blaring open sign— he’s quiet, lost in thought as he carries out the usual closing duties. 

“My offer is still open, by the way,” Beomgyu calls out, and before Taehyun can say anything, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I doubt she’ll wanna see me tomorrow.” 

Taehyun says nothing. Beomgyu doesn’t bother trying to convince him, muttering out a tired one p.m under his breath, unable to help the way his eyes travel back to the hallway you disappeared to now and then— it isn’t long before Taehyun is bidding goodbye, the offer left out in the open as Beomgyu is forced to sit with his own thoughts, ignoring the way his muscles ache or his wounds throb whenever he performs a certain task. 

It takes a while before you come back out— you refuse to look at Beomgyu as the two of you clean in silence, your face left blank and cold as Beomgyu fails to decipher what you might be thinking; even though he wishes nothing more than to take back what he said, he finds his words stuck in his throat every time he looks at you. 

You don’t bother saying goodbye when you leave.

⊹⊹⊹

“Were you lying when you said you’ve been in the cage before?” 

Taehyun rolls his eyes at the older man's words, a scoff escaping him as he chooses not to answer. Beomgyu watches with amusement as the man before him looks away, neck tilting side to side as he feels it crack with ease. The air is hot and there isn’t much light coming in from the small windows atop the room, cracked open to let the cool wintry air inside. Yet it doesn’t seem to help a lot, the two men in the cage weathered down and sweaty from hours of sparring. 

“You’re quite annoying, you know,” Taehyun grumbles, wiping away his sweat before he begins to stretch, preparing for another round as he looks back to Beomgyu— he seems unfazed by his comment, a smug grin overtaking him as he mimics his stretching.

“So I’ve been told,” Beomgyu pouts, straightening up as he waits for Taehyun to approach, “how long have you been doing this?” 

Beomgyu has his own guesses as Taehyun throws a careless jab— he’s tired, not putting any effort into his movements as he dodges Beomgyu’s own hits with ease. 

“Little over two years. It’s been nothing but a hobby until recently though,” Taehyun admits, stepping back as he puts his arms down, “didn’t know this place was a thing.” 

“It’s been running for four years, actually,” Beomgyu says, sighing as he lowers his guard as well; he takes this time to rest, feeling the way his body is beginning to ache from the activity, “Jin and a couple others started it for fun. It’s only recently that things turned serious.”

Taehyun thinks of the referee— and his clear bias with Beomgyu— and frowns, realizing that the very same man he met yesterday was the owner of the building. Shaking his head, he sighs— then jumps back at the unexpected jab Beomgyu sends to him in warning. 

He has no time to complain; his arms immediately come up for defense as Beomgyu seems to have regained his energy, a mischievous smile plastered on his face as he lands a hook on Taehyun— he groans at the feeling, stumbling back as he attempts to regain his composure. 

Before he can regain stability, he’s pulled into another clinch— Beomgyu’s got him good, unable to keep his balance as Beomgyu pulls him into a tight chokehold; He’s trapped, unable to get away as he’s forced to tap out. 

“You know, I’ve noticed quite a few things about the way you fight,” Beomgyu says, ignoring the way Taehyun gives him a pointed glare, “you give all your energy in the first round— you need to be able to conserve your energy, you know.”

Though all Taehyun does is roll his eyes, he secretly takes note of the older man’s comment; he noticed Beomgyu had been giving him pointers the entire time, and he would be a fool to not take advice from the club’s toughest fighter— Taehyun’s pride could only stretch so far. 

Silently, they decide to take a break; there was no use in practicing if neither of them had the energy to throw a proper punch. Exiting the cage, Taehyun lets out a groan as he immediately takes a seat at one of the benches before him— annoyingly, his water bottle is empty again, and he’s forced to trudge to the only water fountain in the building that’s been placed all the way by the entrance; he grimaces at the thought of having to drink water from such a rusty old thing, but the dehydrated scratch of his throat isn’t giving him much of an option. 

Taehyun isn’t too phased when the doors slam open; there have been a few other fighters that have come in while they were sparring, so he figures this must be another regular as he keeps his eyes on the water fountain— it isn’t until he hears haste footsteps and lows cursing that he looks up in curiosity. 

“Of course he would be here,” you’re as irritated as always as you push past Taehyun without much more of a glance, your brows knitted together in annoyance as you make a beeline to the cage— Taehyun gets the privilege of getting front seats to the scene as he leans back in amusement, taking a sip of his cool water before grimacing at the taste. 

“Hey!” You yell, jumping up on the outskirts of the cage and glaring at Beomgyu, who has the audacity to look up at you with puppy eyes as he lays spread out in the center of the ring, “do you always have to be here? Why don’t you go do normal things for once?” 

Taehyun can hear you grumbling something about the long drive and shady district, but it’s left an unintelligible mess as he watches Beomgyu sit up, wincing slightly in the process. 

“You knew I was gonna be here,” is all he says, ticking his head side to side as loud cracks ring throughout the empty building, “plus you’re acting like you couldn’t have called.”

You can’t seem to control the bewildered laugh that escapes you at his words, eyes widening as you jump back down from your place; crossing your arms, you sit down at a bench, jaw clenched as you shoot Beomgyu a lethal glare. 

“You think I didn’t try?” You ask, crossing your legs as you tap at your bicep in annoyance, “your phone is always in the damn locker room!”

“Alright, whatever!” Beomgyu says, throwing his hands up in defeat, “what do you need now.”

“Two of our workers called off. Your mother wants you to come back and help with the catering order,” you say, your gaze cold as you watch Beomgyu begin to whine at you, giving you excuses that you don’t bother to listen to as you shake your head. 

“Listen to your mother and go. Quick,” you say, not wanting to linger any longer as you stand up, leaving without so much as a goodbye as you’re rushing back out again. 

“Yeah, listen to your mother,” Taehyun teases, raising a brow as you snap your head towards him, delivering a cold glare that only makes Taehyun grin, much to your annoyance; he can hear you muttering curses under your breath as you slam the doors open, the sound of your rambling only amusing Taehyun further as he makes his way back to Beomgyu. 

“Crazy how you let yourself get pushed around like that,” Taehyun knows he’s only instigating, but it’s amusing to watch the older man get worked up as he simply huffs in annoyance, cursing under his breath in the same manner you did— he can see where Beomgyu gets his short temper from. 

“I don’t.” he snaps, but the way he’s already beginning to pack up says otherwise; there’s defeat in all his actions as he becomes sluggish, trudging to the locker room where he reluctantly begins to change, “come back here tomorrow, same time— I need to show you something.” 

Beomgyu leaves shortly afterward— the annoyance in his mood has yet to go away as he glances back at the ring one last time, watching solemnly as Taehyun continues to shadow box without him. For a second, he almost considers dropping his responsibilities and going for another round, but your fiery and threatening voice echoes in his head, allowing him to finally leave as a shiver goes through his body. 

⊹⊹⊹

“Stupid workers… making me clean up after their mess…” Beomgyu thinks he might go insane if he has to pack another to-go tray filled with the same order, his mind fried and his hands on auto-pilot as he watches you busily cook out of the corner of his eye. You’re as stone-cold and intimidating as always, sending Beomgyu a sharp glare every time you catch him slacking off— it’s eerie, the way you can almost sense it, never giving Beomgyu a break as you stress the fact that you need to have the order done by the next thirty minutes. 

He’s almost done, so he doesn’t feel as rushed as you do— then again, you may just be on edge due to the fact that you’ve been pulling the weight of the two workers that called off as well as your regular tasks; the sight is enough to have Beomgyu irritated once more. 

You work way too hard for your own good; it’s a fact that Beomgyu always calls you out on, but you’re always just as quick to dismiss it as you shake your head in denial, telling him that he’s overreacting. Yet, as he watches you now, stressed and irritated, he can practically feel himself biting his tongue to prevent calling you out on it. 

The catering order is finished with ease; Beomgyu can feel a weight lift off him the moment a delivery person takes the order from him— the same can be said for you— and he’s almost ready to leave when his eyes catch sight of a new patron that walks in. 

The place has calmed down a bit, so it’s relatively empty— meaning, there should be no reason for Beomgyu to linger around anymore. Yet, he can’t help but be nosy and stay as he watches Jungkook beeline towards you, confident and handsome as always as he sends you a beaming smile.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” you remark sarcastically, leaning against the bar counter as you match Jungkook’s mischievous grin, “the usual?” 

“You know me so well,” Jungkook coos, and the exchange is enough to have Beomgyu straightening up— he’s never seen Jungkook at the restaurant before, let alone the two of you talking so casually to each other. 

Neither of you seem to catch Beomgyu’s analytic stare, much too caught up in your own world to notice anything around you; even the new customer that comes in through the door, trudging over to the bar as he sits a few seats away from Jungkook— Beomgyu is the first to notice as he quickly makes his way over.

“The hell are you doing here?” 

The smile Taehyun sends is pure evil as he leans on the bar, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he raises a brow at Beomgyu’s pointed question. 

“Here to eat, what else?” Beomgyu says nothing in response, his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed as he takes Taehyun’s order, “and if you’re done eavesdropping on their conversations over there, I’d like to know what you were talking about earlier— I’m not exactly free tomorrow.”

The man’s words are enough to have Beomgyu standing straight, sending Taehyun a glare as he grits his teeth at the comment. “Am not.” 

“Come on, be slick about it at least,” Taehyun sighs, eyeing the two of you from the corner of his eye, watching as you continue to converse with the customer— it takes a moment, but Taehyun is able to recognize the patron as he looks back at Beomgyu, pointing their way as he asks, “the hell is the bartender from the club doing here?” 

“That’s Jungkook,” Beomgyu mutters, putting his notepad away as stops to watch the two of you carefully for a second, “and that’s what I’m wondering myself. It’s clearly not to eat.” 

“Yeah, who gives a fuck,” Taehyun grumbles, watching as Beomgyu reaches in his pocket for a piece of paper— pausing, he takes a second to examine Beomgyu, biting his lip as he fights back a smile, “hey, you jealous?” 

“Shut up,” Beomgyu groans, rolling his eyes as he turns his back to you, jaw clenched as he narrows his eyes at Taehyun, who’s only left smiling in return, “she’s basically family, don’t even assume shit.” 

“Not what you said last time I was here,” Taehyun’s words have Beomgyu pausing entirely, forced to take a second to breathe as he takes in the younger man before him. 

“You’re an instigating little bitch, huh?” Is all Beomgyu can utter, watching as Taehyun simply laughs at his words, clearly unaffected by Beomgyu’s anger, “you better keep your mouth shut if you wanna stay in here.” 

“Alright, do your thing,” Taehyun sighs, putting his hands up in defeat. A moment passes, and Taehyun huffs out a laugh, his eyes falling to the piece of paper Beomgyu pushes forward before he continues, “This better be good.” 

Beomgyu watches as Taehyun begins to scan the paper, turning away so he can put the younger’s order in as he does. Once finished, he pauses, leaning against the wall as he waits for Taehyun to finish—Taehyun can practically feel the said man’s stare burn into his skin as he reads the information carefully, eyes widening as takes it all in; looking up, he finds Beomgyu’s eyes effortlessly.

Folding the paper back up carefully, Beomgyu makes his way back over, surprised you haven’t swooped in and asked what’s going on yet; hurriedly, he gets tries to get his point across, leaning in close to Taehyun and sending him an excited smile as he watches Taehyun open his mouth to ask questions immediately.

“How did you find this?” He asks, searching Beomgyu’s eyes as he watches the older man take the flier back, running his fingers over the creases in an absentminded attempt to smooth them out, “who gave you this?” 

“Old friend of mine.” Beomgyu says, leaning back as he watches Taehyun do the same, crossing his arms as he watches Beomgyu with scrutinized eyes, “thought you’d be interested in this.” 

“You’re inviting me? Letting me in on this?” Taehyun asks, frown only deepening as Beomgyu nods innocently, “what makes you think I won’t just win the tournament and take the prize money for myself?” 

“That is a possibility,” Beomgyu hums, “but that’s also what makes it fun.” 

“The hell is this? FightX?” Beomgyu can’t help the way he jumps as you appear behind him, looking over him as you reach to grab the flier from his hands. Beomgyu, in a weak attempt to distract you, attempts to call Jungkook over, trying to snatch the flier back while doing so; his attempts fail miserably as he watches the way your eyes grow wide.

“Are you kidding me?” You say, taking the flier and tucking it away in your own pocket smoothly. Beomgyu only sighs, used to your antics as Taehyun can only watch with an amused look in his eyes, ever as eager to poke the bear as he finds your anger intriguing. 

“Beomgyu, I swear to god that if I see or hear anything about you in that FightX club, I’ll kill you myself.” Your hands are tense as you cross them over your chest, giving Beomgyu a pointed glare as you continue, “I don’t care about you going to Seokjin’s little place— but if you even try to go to that tournament—” 

“Hey, relax, won’t you? You wouldn’t even know what goes on in a place like that,” Taehyun’s words are enough to have your eyes widening, mouth parting in surprise as you slowly turn to the man; beside you, Beomgyu shakes his head in warning, sending Taehyun a warning glare as he mouths the words shut the fuck up. 

“What did you just say to me?” You ask incredually, leaning forward and against the counter as you examine Taehyun carefully; the man is nothing more than amused as he smiles innocently at you, standing his ground as he tilts his head like a puppy, “who are you, anyway?” 

“Someone who knows way more about what goes on in that club than you,” he says softly, a tired tsk leaving him as he takes in the twitch of your brows, watching the way you try to keep your expression neutral, “you don’t need to worry about what Beomgyu does in his personal time.”

You’re left speechless as you press your tongue against your cheek, huffing out a bewildered laugh as you take a step back; glancing at Beomgyu, you narrow your eyes at him, watching as he simply attempts to diffuse the situation with stuttered excuses and a nervous laugh, his behavior changing drastically under your heated gaze.

“I warned you.” is all you say, not bothering to regard Taehyun at all as glare at Beomgyu, turning on your heel as you hear a coworker call your name for your help. 

“What the hell man?” Beomgyu whispers, turning to Taehyun with wide eyes; the man simply shrugs, unphased by the tension as he sighs tiredly. Mind muddled with everything that just happened, he’s quick to find himself untying his apron; he’s done what you’ve asked, and he doubts that you’ll be able to force him to stick around now— especially after the confrontation you just had. 

“FightX? Yo, you’re not planning on going, are you?” Jungkook is slow to the scene as he takes a seat next to Taehyun, recognizing him as the new fighter from a while ago as he nods to him in greeting; turning to Beomgyu, he raises a brow as he waits for him to respond. 

“I don’t know. The prize money’s no joke,” Beomgyu admits, holding onto his apron as he narrows his eyes at Jungkook, who’s only shaking his head in dismay. 

“The prize money is like that for a good reason,” Jungkook warns, nudging Taehyun as he tells him to listen as well, “that place is dangerous. Both the fighters and the patrons are something else, and if you don’t have connections to the right people…” 

The way Jungkook trails off is enough to give the two younger men a gist of what he means, the troubled look in his eyes disappearing as he watches you pass by— his signature smile is back as he pats Taehyun on the back, sending Beomgyu a look before he’s standing up, ready to go to where you’re at now.

“Use your brain for once and think this one through, yeah? And you,” Jungkook says, nudging Taehyun before he leaves, “stop putting our most valuable asset in danger.”

The way Jungkook goes to you is reminiscent of a puppy, the two men watching as he goes back to shamelessly flirt with you— you seem unphased, rolling your eyes as you try to hide your smile of amusement all the while.

“Think this through,” Taehyun chimes in, bringing Beomgyu’s attention back to him, “you seem to have connections— plus, I think it’d be fun.”

The offer becomes more tempting as Beomgyu recalls the prize money that comes along with the win, and Beomgyu is left with more uncertainty than expected as he thinks back to the warnings that came along with it. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu hasn’t been home today.

He’s never home, really, so the fact should be no surprise to you. But there’s something about today that leaves you on edge, your leg bouncing under the table as you hide your unease with a shaky smile. 

“You’re such a hard worker,” Beomgyu’s mother sighs, pouring you a cup of coffee as she makes her way back to where you sit at the dinner table, “I can’t thank you enough for what you do.” 

“I should be the one thanking you,” you say, taking the warm mug from her, trying to hide your shaking hands as you cup the dish tightly, “For giving me this opportunity. For giving me a home.” 

The Choi family was the only reason you were still alive and healthy; if it weren’t for them, you’d probably still be on the streets, dependent on the money that came from shady clubs filled with dangerous people.

That was the only reason you met Beomgyu— you had just finished a fight of your own as you stumbled out of the infirmary, barely patched up as they began the men’s lightweight division fights; you only wanted to stay and bet on the fight before you before you left with the rest of your earnings, curious as to how the match before you would end. 

To say the crowd loved it was an understatement; they were sick people, and the moment they realized that one of the most experienced lightweight fighters was currently pitted against a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy, the betting pool practically tripled within seconds. 

You‘ve never seen him before; it was clear to you that he was new within seconds of watching him in the cage, from his unsure missteps, to the way his arms didn’t come down from his head for a second, wide eyes watching carefully for any opening available. 

He got beat and knocked out within minutes; the match had been more of a joke to those watching than an actual fight. His injuries were nothing to laugh at however, the cage floor littered with his blood as nurses rushed out of the infirmary for him, picking him up and carrying him away as the patrons around you remained unphased at the sight— you still remember wincing as you took in the state his opponent left him in. 

It was a general consensus within the ring that those more experienced shouldn’t be too harsh on newbies— simply out of respect for one’s opponent. But respect didn’t exist in such a place— if anything, respect wasn’t even earned after countless grueling matches in a place like FightX; it didn’t matter if you were good, the only thing that mattered was the number of wins under your belt and how much cash you walked out of the place with— which is why the patrons of such a club knew better than to mess with you. 

This was no place for a child, you remembered thinking to yourself, scoffing at the way people continued to berate and talk about the loser of the previous match. Rolling your eyes, you figured it was better to leave now than to stick around and have shady people try to strike up deals with you— wanting to become your manager, to move you further up the ladder, to share profits with you. 

It usually wasn’t a problem for you to leave; if anything, regulars knew better than to get in your way after you’ve had your fill of fights— but it had been different that day, left to push your way through as a commotion began to form at the entrance. 

“Woah, who the hell is this?” The speakers above you were booming with the commentator’s sneering remarks, the current fight before them no longer a priority as the screams of a woman tore through the crowd. 

“Please, please tell me he’s here,” the ruckus was beginning to become more of a headache to you than anything, pushing through the heaps of people in an attempt to get past the dramatic scene and back home— “home” consisting of a random motel that was cheap enough for this week’s earnings— only to pause once you were able to take in the woman’s helpless state. 

This was someone’s mother, you realize, raising a brow as you take in the way her eyes are wide with fear and worry, brimming with tears as she attempts to put on a brave front. The mocking commentary of the men continue to boom over the speakers as those around the older woman ignore her or tell her to get lost, not bothering to listen to her words as they immediately turned their backs to her. 

The boy’s mother. You realize, taking a deep breath before you walk toward the woman, grabbing onto her bicep tightly in order to gain her attention. She seemed more than ready to brush off your grip and fight to stay, but upon taking in your solemn appearance, she paused, her mouth parting as she no-doubt became ready to ask the same question she had been asking everyone else.

“Your son is over here,” you sigh out, tugging her along wordlessly— at your claim, she quickly follows, asking endless questions that you can’t even seem to keep up with. 

“Tall, scrawny, long hair?” You ask, glancing back at her to catch her nodding incredually, “around sixteen?” 

Once again, she nods, her gesture only making you sigh once more as you ignore the pressing stares of those around you. 

“Yeah, he’s this way,” you say, finally arriving at the infirmary as you’re left to scan all the cots around you; his mother seems to spot him first, exclaiming loudly before she leaves your side to run to him. 

The sight is enough to have you clenching your jaw as you lean against the doorway, arms crossed defensively over your chest as you watch the boy’s mother cry and scold the barely conscious boy. It was clear she cared for him, and the sight was foreign to you as you found yourself frozen in one place, forcing yourself to spectate a scene that you knew you’d never experience for yourself. 

You stuck around to help the woman take her son home, listening quietly as she turned to scold the boy, huffing once in a while as she observed the way you effortlessly helped him walk with an arm thrown over your shoulder— the patrons around you were wise enough to keep their comments to themselves as they flinched at the hard glares you gave them. 

“Don’t come back here kid,” you remembered telling him, dropping him in the passenger’s seat of his mothers car, rolling your eyes as he incoherently attempted to argue with you, “this place is too dangerous for someone like you.” 

“And you?” His mother’s words had been enough to snap you out of your dazed state; looking up, you had been surprised to see his mother staring at you with the same concern in her gaze, her head tilting as she scanned your bruised skin and tired face, “will you be alright here?” 

Her concern had been unexpected— so much so that you couldn’t help the way you laughed softly at her words, shaking your head as you ignored the strangely warm feeling that bloomed within you from her concern. 

“I know how to handle myself here,” you told her, jaw clenching as you watched the way she remained unconvinced. Slowly, you watched her reach in her jacket pockets, fishing around for something until she finally found it, a small ah, escaping her mouth before she finally offered you the object with polite hands; you stared at the business card she handed you, unsure of what to do until you finally accepted it after a pause. 

“Thank you so much for your help today,” she says, bowing gratefully as she looks at you with a kind smile, “if you’re ever hungry, you can always stop by. On the house.” 

The laminated card feels smooth under your fingers as you absentmindedly accept her offer, unsure of how to react to her kindness as she thanks you again; you try to ignore the way her eyes are coated with concern and pity, the emotions within you nothing but bitter as you watch her drive away. 

Shoving her card into your jacket pocket, you sigh, turning on your heels and walking back to the cheap motel that you knew was too shady to stay at for too long. If you win another match tomorrow, you might be able to stay at the better motel just a few blocks over. 

The thought was promising as you made your way back, your muscles aching and your stomach growling as you inevitably thought back to the free meal that boy’s mother promised you. 

Maybe tomorrow, you thought, pulling the card back out of your pocket to examine it, you should treat yourself after tomorrow’s fight. 

⊹⊹⊹

Your life had taken a surprising turn after that day— now you found yourself here, sitting in the home of the Choi family, welcomed as always and reformed of your ways of fighting— you only wish the same could be said for Beomgyu. 

“So,” you say, clearing your throat as you try to get the nerves out of your tone, “Where’s Beomgyu at?” 

“Oh,” she sighs, slumping down in the chair across from you as she takes a sip from her cup of coffee, “God, I don’t even know— he left really early today, didn’t even bother to let me know— he hasn’t been back since.” 

The news was odd to you; it was late already, but Beomgyu wasn’t the type to be up in the mornings, much less make any plans. You took a second to process her words, nodding absentmindedly as you took another sip from your drink— the flier you took from him seems to be weighing your pocket down now more than ever. 

He wouldn’t, the more forgiving part of you thought, he knows better than to go off to a place like that. 

But the more skeptical part of you knew better; Beomgyu was always one to be swayed easily, and with that new sparring partner of his, your trust in him only seemed to dwindle more and more. 

Taehyun had only proved himself to be a danger to Beomgyu— especially if he was so eager to get himself into a place like FightX. 

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the sound of a phone ringing echoed throughout the room; blinking wildly, you allow Ms. Choi to excuse herself as she leaves to answer the phone— you take this chance to take the flier out of your pocket, unfolding it carefully as your fingers smooth over the wrinkles. 

Reading it carefully, your eyes widen, biting at your lip as you feel your heart beginning to beat faster.

It was tonight.

And it started two hours ago. 

You don’t give much of an explanation to Ms. Choi as you’re standing abruptly, making your way to where she stands at the kitchen to say goodbye— you can see the confusion and concern swim in her eyes at your suddenness, but you hope that the bright, carefree smile you send her is enough to soothe her as you apologize for leaving early. 

It’s scary how easy it is for you to make your way to that club— despite it being years since you last stepped inside, you can still feel instinct take over as you’re speeding off to the tournament. 

If Beomgyu’s still alive by the time you get there, you’ll kill him yourself. 

Clenching your jaw, you pray that there are no cops around as you speed through the empty streets, your only priority clouding your mind as you run past a few red lights. 

And his little friend too. 

⊹⊹⊹ 

Beomgyu’s body feels like it’s been set alight with anxiety. 

He’s pacing around the locker room, attempting to control his breathing as he focuses on his next opponent; on his fighting style, on how to beat him. 

He’s been in this position many times— it’s like second nature to him, only the new setting seems to be affecting him more than he expected. It’s not like he’s never branched out to other underground fighting tournaments before; he’s been all around the city and even outside of it, trusting Seokjin’s judgment as he made a name for himself through it— in a way, Seokjin had almost been like a manager to him.  

But he hasn’t been here in years; six years, to be exact. He can still feel the danger that looms through these walls, feeling more trapped than anything as memories of his first match come to mind— a primal fear is prominent in every single one. 

Beomgyu is much more different than he was six years ago— both in muscle and mentality, he knows how to handle himself in such a shady place. Yet, he can’t help but remember your warnings, his brows furrowing as he feels his heart pound a little harder against his chest. 

“You overthinking things again?” Beomgyu’s spiraling train of thought is interrupted as he snaps his head over to the doorway, meeting eyes with Taehyun who sports a bright smile, much more relaxed and excited than he is.

“Can’t help it,” Beomgyu admits, sighing heavily as he turns to stretch instead, “new territory.”

“Thought you had connections to this place?” Taehyun asks, tilting his head as he listens to Beomgyu explain that while it is true, he still isn’t experienced with this club. 

“Don’t think about it too much,” Taehyun says, making his way over as he sits at the bench near Beomgyu, “the bracket looks easy today.” 

The plan was simple; make it to the end of the bracket, where Beomgyu and Taehyun would inevitably have to fight each other— the earnings would be split between the two after.

Just makes the odds of earning the prize money higher, Beomgyu had explained once Taehyun began questioning his motives, that way, both of us win, and get experience out of it.  

The prize money was already so grand that even half of it seemed more than enough for Beomgyu— and of course, the thought of returning to such a place and finally winning a grand tournament was thrilling to Beomgyu. 

The things he could do with the prize money were endless— he already had a few ideas in mind, thinking back to his hardworking mother and how much she struggled to raise him on her own while still managing her restaurant. Then he thought about you, of the hard times he gave you, knowing how much you feared him going through the same things you did, of turning to a life dependent on fighting and gambling. 

“Hey hey, focus,” Beomgyu is blinking rapidly as Taehyun claps in front of his face, laughing at the way the older man managed to zone out once more, “you’re up in three minutes, you should prepare yourself.” 

Beomgyu is nodding absentmindedly as he watches Taehyun exit, still feeling nerves creeping up his system as he wonders if this is all such a good idea; then his name is called, and the referee pops in to ask if he’s ready. 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu finds himself saying, feeling as though he’s lost control of his body as he’s walking out of the dimly lit locker room, “lets go.” 

⊹⊹⊹

“Hey, I know we haven’t talked in a while but— yeah, no need to remind me,” your voice is low and your footsteps are echoing as you walk through puddles, the smell of rain still lingering in the air as you weave your way through dark alley— the feeling is oddly reminiscent as you find yourself laughing along with your old friend on the phone.

“No, it’s serious stuff,” you sigh, turning the corner as you find the place you’ve been dreading to step inside of. A small shop meets you, the lights off and the gates closed around the windows— the unassuming shop makes your stomach churn with dread, approaching it slowly before you’re walking around its perimeter. 

“You’ll never guess where I’m back at right now— yup, the very one,” your friend’s incredulous laugh booms over the line as you let out some bitter chuckles yourself, rounding towards the back as you see a deep, ominous stairwell; faintly, you can hear the brutish screams and commentary leaking through, the sound only beginning to worsen as time passes; the sound has a deep sigh leaving you as you begin the long descend into the basement. 

“Listen, I need you and your men to be here on standby— I’m serious, you think I’d joke about this stuff?” You finally reach the bottom as you pause at the very last step, staring at the metal door that’s left at the end of the corridor. 

“Thanks. I’ll call you if I need you to come in,” you say, bidding your goodbye before you’re finally hanging up, tucking your phone in your back pocket before you’re taking a final, deep breath. 

Hopefully I won’t. You mutter, reaching forward before you’re finally opening the heavy, metal door. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu feels dizzy. 

The bracket looks easy today, Taehyun’s voice echoes in his head as he rests against the ring’s ropes, the layout different to what he’s used to as he takes a moment to recollect himself. 

Easy— the fuck was Taehyun talking about? Beomgyu feels left out as he watches his opponent talk with his coach, discussing strategies and glancing back at Beomgyu, who’s left on his own as he takes the opportunity to stretch. 

He just needed to beat the man across from him, then he was officially in the finals. The thought was the only thing that soothed him as he scanned the crowd for Taehyun, finally finding him right at the front; he was just as tired and beat as Beomgyu was, but the encouraging smile he sent Beomgyu managed to keep him on his feet a little longer— the prize money loomed over his head as he watched the referee call the next round, the fighter before Beomgyu gritting his teeth against his mouthpiece as his coach yelled at him to knock Beomgyu out. 

His opponent became predictable fairly quickly— Beomgyu’s arms came up to his head for defense as the man attempted to jab at him, only to slide down to his sides and squeeze as his opponent attempted to land a hook to his side; at his liver, to be exact. 

Chenle, Beomgyu remembers the commentators announce, his name was Chenle. 

He looked to be around his age, if not younger. The man before him was energetic and strong, but seemed to get too excited during the rounds; it seemed as though he only came into the ring with one tactic in mind, and remained persistent to knock his opponent out in one specific way— it seemed he targeted Beomgyu with liver shots. 

His punch was quite lethal— Beomgyu would know, because he fell victim to his attack in the first round. If anything, he still feels as though his mind is all muddled as he shifts away, avoiding the man’s attempt to get him cornered before he’s throwing a few quick punches himself. 

It doesn’t take long before Beomgyu is able to turn the match around, however. Chenle seems to be very poor in adapting to an opponent’s fighting style, and Beomgyu is quickly able to pull him into a chokehold that has him tapping out within seconds— without his hooks, Chenle was practically useless.

All this fighting had taken a toll on Beomgyu— he’s sure it showed as well, panting like a dog as the referee thrust his hand into the air, the commentators announcing him as the winner over the speakers: The Bear wins again. 

Beomgyu could see why you attempted to dissuade him from going to such a place as he takes in everyone’s reactions— the good, the bad, and the dangerous. From the corner of his eye, he can see Chenle stumbling back to his coach, the two clearly bitter and angry as they whisper plans to each other— Beomgyu shivers involuntarily as their glares land on him, his gut telling him that they’re up to no good as the referee finally lets go of his wrist, quick to exit the ring and get as far from them as possible. 

“Hey, we made it,” Taehyun grins, clapping Beomgyu on the shoulder as he laughs with joy— only to apologize as Beomgyu winces, his hand coming off in a second, “Our fight’s in thirty minutes, go rest and clean up— I don’t wanna have to go easy on you now.”

Absentmindedly, Beomgyu nods, ducking his head and making his way back to the locker room as he tries to ignore the stares of those around him— he can practically feel his body become alight with nerves by the time he’s back in the dark locker room, his heart pounding and his hands shaking as he begins to wonder if all your warnings have made him paranoid.  

It must be the adrenaline, he thinks to himself, undoing his hand wraps and wincing as he stretches his cramped muscles, yeah. adrenaline.  

He can’t help the way he groans as he makes his way to the bathroom area— all this fighting has taken a heavy toll on him, and he quickly finds that he’s already begun to sprout plenty of injuries and bruises as he finds his reflection in the mirror; his eyes remain downcast as he goes to wash his hands, sighing as the cool water splashes against his skin.

“I’m telling you, you were great!” Beomgyu can’t help but hear the conversation that begins to leak into the locker room, frowning at the way the second person begins to complain and yell angrily— the sound is enough to have Beomgyu on guard, straightening up slowly as he quickly turns the sink off. 

“No, I wasn’t great— I fucking lost!” He jumps at the sound of something striking hard against the lockers— Beomgyu can feel his stomach sink with dread as he realizes that it must be Chenle that walked in— he’s able to recognize his voice fairly quickly. 

“I know, I know— It’s odd, really, you weren’t supposed to have…” Beomgyu feels like he’s unable to breathe as the manager walks into sight, locking eyes with him through the reflection in an instant as he immediately stops talking; Chenle’s irritated what? Is enough to have Beomgyu snapping out of his daze, turning around as he watches the boy’s manager let out an exasperated laugh. 

“Hey,” Chenle begins, spotting Beomgyu as he quickly makes his way to him— Beomgyu remains silent, his eyes narrowed coldly as he tries to make a point that he’s not intimidated, “what the hell was that about back there?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beomgyu mutters, watching as Chenle scoffs, turning away for a second to compose himself. 

“The match,” Chenle clarifies, enunciating each syllable as though Beomgyu were incapable of understanding, “you were supposed to throw it.” 

The words are definitely news to Beomgyu; he’s sure it shows on his face, because Chenle only seems to grow angrier by the second, Beomgyu’s silence only irritating him more as he runs a stressed hand through his hair. 

“Don’t act fuckin stupid,” Chenle spits out, pushing Beomgyu’s chest and taking him by surprise as he stumbles back into the sink, “We had our deal. Give me back the money I gave you.” 

“You have the wrong person,” Beomgyu says slowly, attempting to remain calm as he briefly looks over Chenle’s shoulder, and at the exit behind the two; he had two options: fight— which Chenle seemed more than ready to do— or stay out of trouble and run. The second option seemed very tempting at the moment. 

“I didn’t make any deal with you.” 

This seems enough to set Chenle off, more than ready to throw a punch before he’s interrupted by his manager; the man’s sharp Chenle is enough to have the two men looking back, over to where his manager leans against the wall, arms crossed as he stares at Beomgyu carefully. 

“You,” the man says carefully, nodding at Beomgyu as he raises a brow questioningly, “what’s your name?”

“Beomgyu,” he replies gruffly, watching as the manager only becomes more confused by his response. 

“Who sent you here?”

“Hey man, what’s the hold up, our fight started two minutes ago and people are already calling a forfeit—“ Taehyun pauses at the sight of the scene before him, taking a second to compose himself before he’s sending a cold glare to Chenle’s manager, “what’re you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” the man replies, pushing himself off the wall before he’s shoving his hands into his pants pockets, “now that I think about it, you two weren’t on the original roster we agreed to.”  

“The hell are you talking about?” It’s clear that the situation has begun to annoy Taehyun, who remains unphased as the manager begins to walk towards him, “We were invited to the tournament.” 

“Oh yeah? By who?” The man asks quietly, tilting his head as he waits expectantly for Taehyun to answer. 

“Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu says, the name foreign to Taehyun’s ears as he gauges the men’s reactions, the two of them watching Beomgyu with a scrutinizing gaze— what he sees does nothing to soothe his nerves. 

“Choi Yeonjun?” It seems as though that was not the answer either of them were looking for, the older man beginning to walk towards Taehyun, cornering him against the wall as Beomgyu attempts to step in— the warning glare Chenle sends him has him stilling for a second.

“That little rat sent you two? He still has the courage to try and involve himself here?” Something isn’t right— Beomgyu feels as though his body is on fire, buzzing with adrenaline as he watches the man’s tone drop dangerously— he’s reaching towards his jacket, the sight alarming as Beomgyu decides to divert his attention before it’s too late. 

His attempt to take down Chenle works fairly easy— at least, that’s what Beomgyu thinks initially, able to take Chenle by surprise with a punch to the face before the boy is recovering; he’s more than ready to take back any of Chenle’s hits, only that’s not what the younger man seems to have in mind as he reaches into his jacket pocket instead.

Beomgyu isn’t given much time to react before Chenle is tackling him into the wall, his head banging harshly against it before he feels himself grow paralyzed with shock and pain— the knife Chenle drives into Beomgyu’s stomach is quickly plunged out, the younger man’s manager pulling him back with a scolding tsk and a harsh pull of his collar. 

“Shit,” he can hear Taehyun exclaim, running to Beomgyu’s side in an instant as he attempts to add pressure to the wound; Beomgyu is still in shock as he groans at the feeling, a shuddering breath escaping him as he watches his blood run down his skin and stain his shorts. 

“Chenle, let’s go,” the manager hisses, tugging Chenle along and hiding the weapon before either Beomgyu or Taehyun are able to process it.

Beomgyu feels as though he’s swimming underwater with how disoriented he feels, the quiet apologies Taehyun lets out over and over falling onto deaf ears as the noise outside only grows louder. 

“We need to take you to the hospital man, shit,” Taehyun says, doing his best to carry Beomgyu with him as they make their way out— he knows better than to try and trust anyone in this place to treat him. 

“What’s this?” Taehyun is already rolling his eyes at the sight of a new person blocking their path, more than ready to curse them out and push them out of the way before he realizes who it is; Choi Minho, the club owner, simply smiles down at them, inspecting the two men before him before his cold gaze stops upon Beomgyu. 

“Playing dirty already?” His lack of urgency has Taehyun’s stomach churning with dread, wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into as the owner of the club only stops to laugh at his own joke.

Taehyun’s guilt and fear for his friend seems to cloud his reasoning; without another thought, he’s pushing past Minho, trying to find his way over to the exit before he quickly realizes that he’s managed to bring all the attention to him. 

The crowd goes wild at the sight of Beomgyu’s injury; they’re crowding around the three, attempting to instigate a fight and bet money as their eyes light up with bloodlust— the sight has Taehyun shivering as he stumbles forward in uncertainty, avoiding a woman that attempts to grab out to Beomgyu in the process. 

The sight was terrifying; Minho could only watch in satisfaction behind them, crossing his arms in amusement as he watched Taehyun try to push through the packed crowds of people; his hold on Beomgyu was slipping, and he’s sure he’s left a trail of blood by now as his ears begin to ache, trying his best to ignore the catcalls and insults that are thrown at him; both to try and instigate and annoy him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Minho calls after them, following behind as people almost seem to clear a path for him; in turn, the people on the other end seem to grow bolder, blocking his path and eager to witness conflict as Taehyun begins to yell at them to move.

“We still need to discuss your connections to this place,” Minho says, his eyes darkening as he meets Taehyun’s heated gaze, “Choi Yeonjun, was it?”

It’s no use; the crowd is getting handsy, pushing Taehyun back towards Minho in order to see the drama unfold. Beomgyu can only cling tighter to Taehyun, groaning in pain as the adrenaline slowly begins to wear off. 

Choi Yeonjun, what the fuck did you do, Taehyun is practically ready to spit in Minho’s face from the anger that courses through him, but the fear that Beomgyu may bleed out on him keeps his senses on high alert as he tries to formulate a plan to escape. 

His chance to escape comes in the form of five gunshots that boom through the room— each causing more panic than the last, the people around him bigger cowards than they let on as they immediately fall to the floor or scramble for cover. 

Taehyun is startled but remains alert, his head whipping around and meeting the eyes of someone who was more than used to coming to unorthodox places to wrangle Beomgyu out of danger. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you angrier as you point a gun towards the ceiling, your jaw clenched and your face confronted into a nasty glare as rubble falls around you. 

“Get down,” you seethe, sweeping your gun through the area as you watch everyone cower at the sight, eyes pointed at those who try to get back up to escape, “I said get the fuck down!” 

The place seems to grow still the moment you put your finger back on the trigger, the startled yelps of those hiding the only thing that you can hear as you begin to walk forward; your gaze only darkens more at the sight of Beomgyu slumped in Taehyun’s arms. 

“___, so nice to see you back here,” Minho smiles, attempting to charm you with an innocent tilt of his head, “What brings you to this place?”

“Let them go, Minho,” you warn, raising your gun towards him as he simply puts his hands up in surrender— yet, the mischievous smile and his unphased body language tell you otherwise.

“And why should I?” He asks carefully, eyes flickering over to where Beomgyu barely remains standing, Taehyun attempting to put all his strength into stopping the blood flow of his wound, “They wronged me, and I simply want answers.” 

“Bullshit,” you spit out, jerking your arm as you bring your gun to aim at his head instead, “I have Agust and his men outside. Let them go if you know what’s good for you.” 

The sudden name seems to be enough for Minho to falter, his smile wavering for a second before he’s letting out a deep sigh; rolling his eyes, he takes a moment to think before he’s looking over to Taehyun and Beomgyu. 

“Go.” 

Taehyun doesn’t need to be told twice; he’s making his way over to you without hesitation, struggling to step over the cowering bodies as Beomgyu clings to him like a ragdoll— you’re immediately pulling the two behind you before you’re jerking your head back to the exit, walking backwards as you keep your gun aimed at Minho in warning. 

“You’ll be back soon,” Minho grins, his eyes alight with something mischievous and dangerous as he lets his arms down slowly, “just you wait.”

Your free hand reaches for the heavy metal door, your eyes narrowing at his words as he waits for you to say something; in response, you spit at him, slamming the door behind you before you’re ushering Taehyun to hurry up.

“I fucking told you, I can’t fucking believe this,” you mutter under your breath, shoving the gun in your back pocket before you’re taking Beomgyu from Taehyun, slinging his arm over your shoulder as you spot Taehyun staggering behind in exhaustion. 

“Hurry up before I leave your ass here!” You yell, now at the top of the stairs as you meet eyes with the one person you now owed your life to. 

“Shit, you really weren’t messing around,” Yoongi says, his eyes widening as he takes sight of the unconscious man you carry with you. With a snap, his men take him from your arms, carrying him over to the backseat of Yoongi’s car before he’s gesturing for you to get in, Taehyun following close behind.

“We need to get him to the hospital, now,” you stress, unsure of how much Beomgyu was bleeding out before you got there; from his pale sweaty skin and slow, shuddering breaths, you know it’s best to act fast and ask questions later. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” is all Yoongi says, gesturing towards his men as they all begin to scatter, more than ready to speed off into the streets as he yells at Taehyun to put pressure on Beomgyu’s wound.

Pressed against the seat, you can’t ignore the way your head aches and your eyes sting with the threat of tears, unsure of what you’ll tell Beomgyu’s mother the moment he gets checked in the hospital. 

Silently, you reach over to Yoongi, grabbing his hand as you let out a soft thank you. In turn, he squeezes your hand in reassurance, his foot pressing down on the gas pedal as he takes in the anxiety that rolls off you in waves. 

⊹⊹⊹

The hospital is cold and unwelcoming. 

You’re in the waiting room, unable to stop yourself from pacing as Yoongi remains by your side; Taehyun lingers nearby, his gaze downcast and glued to the floor from the moment Beomgyu was taken away by paramedics. 

Your fingers dig into your arms as you sigh for the upteenth time; your gaze falls on Taehyun, your jaw clenching as you take him in— his head is downcast and he remains hunched over in his seat, his elbows propped on his knees as he hangs his head. But even from there, your eyes are able to look over the way his clothes are drenched with blood, his knuckles turning white as he clasps his hands together tightly. 

“Excuse me, are you Choi Beomgyu’s guardian?” The three of you are quick to turn at the meek nurse that approaches you, her hands folded politely as you take initiative to step towards her; nodding, you watch as she sighs, her face unreadable under the medical mask she wears. 

“I’m sorry to inform you that Choi Beomgyu’s wound was quite severe, and he lost a significant amount of blood.” You can feel Yoongi grasp at your arm as you exhale slowly, feeling yourself become unstable as your mouth falls open in disbelief, “We were able to stop the bleeding, but we’ve noticed that his wound has shown signs of infection; due to this, his condition is still critical— He is currently in the intensive care unit, and we are doing everything we can to stabilize him; Unfortunately, only immediate family can visit at this time.”

She lingers for a moment as she waits for you to say something, but you’re only able to muster enough energy to nod politely, ripping your arm out of Yoongi’s grasp before you’re stumbling outside— the said man is hot on your trail as he keeps a close eye on you, his quiet presence enough reassurance that he’s there if you need him. 

Your hands are shaking horribly as you shove them in your pockets; your head hurts, and you feel sick to your stomach as you lean against the hospital walls, your head banging softly against the concrete wall as your pockets fish for something to distract you; Yoongi is quick to guess as he reaches into his own jacket, pulling out a cigarette and placing it in between your lips before he’s lighting it for you. 

“He’ll be okay,” Yoongi reassures you, watching with narrowed eyes as you take a slow drag from the cigarette, “he’s a strong kid— in good hands, too.”

“I know he’ll be okay,” you grit out, sighing softly as you watch the smoke escape from your lips and disappear into the night sky, “he has to be.”

Your worries don’t lie entirely on his health; his recovery will be slow and tedious, but you’ll do anything if it ensures Beomgyu’s safety— the problem, however, lies on how much it’ll cost to ensure his recovery. 

With the treatments and antibiotics the doctors were currently giving Beomgyu, you’re sure Ms. Choi would break down at the sight of the bill; running a restaurant on her own can only do so much, and you’re sure as hell not blind to the reasons as to why Beomgyu took up fighting in the first place, witness to the way he would leave his prize money before her in hopes that it would take care of the monthly bills. 

A prize from the tournament at FightX would’ve been enough to have Ms. Choi closing the restaurant for a while and going on vacation— Beomgyu’s motivations slowly start clicking together in your head as you scoff, taking another drag from the cigarette in your hand as you feel the way your head begins to ache; the last thing you’ll do is have Ms. Choi worry about the bills.

“His mother,” Yoongi starts softly, interrupting your thoughts as he practically reads your mind, “are you gonna tell her?”

You take a moment before you answer, watching as Yoongi leans against the wall next to you patiently; flicking the ashes off your cigarette, you bite your lip, frowning in frustration as you sigh slowly. 

“I have to,” you say, your mind already wracking for ways you could deliver the news to his mother, “she’s already worried enough as it is.”

Pulling your phone out, you turn it on to show Yoongi your screen; an onslaught of missed calls and text messages greet you, all from Beomgyu’s mother as you wince at the escalation of the contents— all of them asking if you’re alright, if you know where Beomgyu might have run off to. 

“She’s already onto me,” you laugh softly, though it feels more forced than anything as you watch your screen light up again, her contact name taking over the screen as you take a second to look at it; with one last drag from your cigarette, you exhale, accepting the call as you drop the item and grind it into the ground, wincing slightly as Ms. Choi’s alarmed voice fills your ears. 

“Yes Ms. Choi, I’ve found him.” You look beyond exhausted as Taehyun watches from afar, only able to hear your soft voice as you continue to reassure his mother— the guilt that was plaguing Taehyun’s mind only comes back stronger as he watches you deliver the awaited news tensely, the words awkward in your mouth as you visibly flinch— only to quickly tell Beomgyu’s mother that he’s safe and there’s nothing to worry about. 

“We’re still here. I’ll wait for you, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft and calming as you speak, a stark contrast to what Taehyun saw earlier— he shivers at the thought, eyes widening slightly as they meet yours— stiffening, he can’t help how tense he feels as you gesture for him to come to him. 

It’s silent as Taehyun walks to you; tucking your phone into your back pocket, your eyes narrow at the sight of Taehyun walking towards you, as though his tail were tucked in between his legs as he refuses to meet your gaze. The sight is enough to have you angered again as you cross your arms, pushing yourself off the wall as you dig your fingers into your biceps, teeth gritting as you attempt to keep your voice steady as you speak. 

“What the hell happened back there? How did this all start?” You ask, your gaze intense as Taehyun forces himself to meet it; you look beyond furious as you wait for him to respond, Yoongi surveying carefully over your shoulder, the sight oddly intimidating as Taehyun begins to recount everything that happened. 

“The match was rigged— you weren’t even supposed to be there,” you conclude, looking over your shoulder to see Yoongi agreeing, “who was invited there?” 

“It was me,” Taehyun says, not an ounce of hesitation in his answer as he watches your eyes widen at the news, “It was all my idea, I thought it’d give us a bigger chance to win the prize money— I… I was the one who got the invite.”

Taehyun isn’t entirely sure as to why he just took all the blame for Beomgyu; maybe it was his guilty conscience, or the way that he knew if he told the truth, Beomgyu would be in more trouble than he already was— yet a small part of him seems to regret it as he watches the way your eyes widen, unable to stop yourself as Taehyun’s head jerks to the side— his cheek stings at the impact of your palm, but he doesn’t find himself to be angered by it as he remains silent. 

“This— this is all your fault?” You say, incredulous as you begin to pace again— whether it’s to hold yourself back from hitting Taehyun again or to process everything, he isn’t sure— “Do you have any idea the shit you just got us involved in?”

From the way Taehyun stares at you, his brows furrowed in concern, it’s clear the answer is no.

“Do you know how much it’ll cost for Beomgyu’s treatment? He could’ve fucking died!” The fact that Beomgyu still stepped foot in the underground club despite knowing the dangers of it isn’t lost on you— if anything, it angers you more, feeling as though he took everything you told him and went through as a joke, teeth gritting together at the thought of it, “his mother can’t afford something like this, do you realize how terrified she is to hear her son is in the ICU?”

“The money from the tournament,” Taehyun interrupts, watching the way you pause in your steps before he continues, “we can just use that— it’s more than enough.”

You remain silent— all you can do is stare at Taehyun for a second, eyes narrowing at him before you shake your head; bitterly, you smile, tilting your head as you cross your arms defensively once more. 

“Did you finish the tournament?” You ask, watching as Taehyun slowly shakes his head, “did you win?”

“No— it was just me and Beomgyu left anyway—”

“Did you win?” You repeat, your voice much more stern as you take a step closer to Taehyun; he can feel his heart sinking as he takes in your close proximity, your expression serious as he feels the realization dawn on him as well, “did you stay in the cage, did you hear them announce you as the winner?”

You both know the answer to your question; Taehyun’s voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks. 

“No.”

“No,” you echo, hands falling to your sides, the burst of emotions from earlier taking a toll on you and leaving your voice quiet and tired as you continue, “They might as well call it a forfeit from your part.”

“The prize money is still their’s, and they’ll even hold another tournament while they’re at it.”

Backing away, you glance at Yoongi before gesturing for him to give you another cigarette; the lighter is the only thing that illuminates your face for a second, your eyes tired and angry as they flicker back up to meet Taehyun’s.

“Unless you want to go back and win it, you’re no use here.”

You refuse to talk to Taehyun any further as you turn your back to him; the smoke that escapes from your figure is oddly soothing as Taehyun lingers by your side, lost in thought as he leans against the wall; feeling a set of eyes searing into his skin, he looks up, meeting Yoongi’s curious gaze, watching as he tilts his head before he finally speaks to the younger man. 

“Who sent you that invitation?” Yoongi asks, burying his hands into his jacket pockets as he watches Taehyun intently— the said man pauses, mind thinking back to the name Beomgyu mentioned before he’s uttering it quietly, unsure of himself as he avoids Yoongi’s gaze. 

“Choi Yeonjun.” Taehyun is surprised to find both of you reacting, watching as your shoulders shake with quiet laughter, head turning to Yoongi who simply sends you a knowing look; the two of you shake your heads in dismay, leaving Taehyun to wonder if he said the wrong name as he watches Yoongi let out a deep sigh. 

“That explains it,” Yoongi mutters, taking the cigarette from your hands before he’s taking a drag of it himself; he’s blowing the smoke out to the side before he finally decides to give Taehyun more context, the sight of the man staring at him bringing him amusement as his lips twinge into a small smile. 

“You and Yeonjun, were you guys close?” Taehyun slowly shakes his head at the question, making Yoongi scoff— he wonders why the older man seems to be making such a big deal about this person, but the heavy feeling in his gut tells him it’s nothing good, “Makes sense— thought you had a death wish or something.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Taehyun asks, tired of being left out in the dark from the way Yoongi refuses to give proper context; he can’t help the way he straightens slightly as you turn back around to face him, your gaze still full of anger as you glare at Taehyun. 

“That invitation was a setup,” you begin, brow raising at the way Taehyun’s mouth falls open in surprise, “Choi Yeonjun was exposed as a rat years ago; he was working with police to try and get the club shutdown, greedy for money— didn’t exactly end well for him.” 

It all seems to make sense now; the hostility whenever either boys mentioned the man, the danger it wound them up in— Taehyun tries to keep a straight face at the news, but it’s difficult to do as you grow quiet, surveying Taehyun carefully as you take a step closer to him; then another, and another until you’re eerily close to him, attempting to analyze everything about him before you’re tutting softly. 

“But why he would send an invite to you, I have no idea— let alone how he got a spot in the bracket— what’d he tell you, anyway?” your questions are enough to have Taehyun gulping softly; hell, how was he supposed to know any of this? Yet, as far as you were concerned, Taehyun was the only one who was in contact with the man. 

“Nothing much,” Taehyun replies, hoping you can’t see through his lies as he stares straight into your eyes, “it came in the mail— just told me he secured two spots.” 

“Think about it,” Yoongi says, diverting your attention away from Taehyun for a second— he can feel himself relax slightly, free from your intense gaze as you turn to look at your friend, “Why else would he try to get involved with FightX again? And through other fighters, on top of that.”

“He might be trying to get back in the scene,”  you say, seemingly coming to a conclusion before Taehyun can as your face lightens up; first, with confusion, then with amusement as a smile tugs at your lips. Turning back to Taehyun, you can’t help but laugh slightly in disbelief, “The prize money probably wasn’t going to be yours to begin with.”

Still a rat, hmm, you mutter, the smile on your face contradictory to the way you bite your lip in irritation; the laugh you let out isn’t very convincing either, and Yoongi can only roll his eyes at your antics as he’s leaning against the wall once more, taking a slow drag from the cigarette in his hand before he’s flicking off the ash absentmindedly. 

“How do you know all this?” Taehyun asks, the question hitting him suddenly as he takes a good look at the people before him; a restaurant worker and a man who seemed to be involved in shadier things than he let on— his curiosity laid more on you, taking in the way you seemed unphased by his question, “who are you guys?” 

That’s enough for you and Yoongi to share a bewildered look; it takes a second before you’re both laughing, amused at his words as you allow Yoongi to answer.

“Kid, you’re looking at the two old champions of FightX,” Yoongi smiles, eyes creasing as Taehyun takes notice of the scar that runs through one of them, “We’re the only fucking reason that club survived for so long.” 

Taehyun’s look of bewilderment is the only thing to have you cracking a genuine smile; rolling your eyes, you huff as his eyes land on you, observing you for a moment before he frowns in confusion.

“You’re a fighter?” Taehyun asks, watching as the two of you nod without hesitation, “Makes sense.” 

“Alright you little prick,” you seethe, eye twitching at his witty comment, “I know you have a smart fucking mouth, but I still can’t get used to it.” 

You feel as though you might show Taehyun some of your moves when he simply cracks an innocent smile at you— only to stop, the sound of hurried steps and the loud yell of your name making the three of you turn towards the sound. 

Ah, you hear Yoongi mumble behind you, dropping his cigarette and snuffing it out before Ms. Choi can pick up on it; the tense smiles the two of you sport quickly has Taehyun doing the same, shuffling back until he’s covered behind Yoongi— from the corner of your eye, you see the younger man cross his arms awkwardly, attempting to cover his blood-soaked clothes as he keeps his head ducked down. 

Ms. Choi is a wreck; you’re able to pick up on it easily, the light that leaks out from within highlighting her features that are soaked with worry and stress; her face is pulled into a frown and her eyes threaten to leak with tears as she stumbles to a stop before you. 

Her expression is unreadable; you’re unsure of how she might react or what she might do, but you wouldn’t blame her if she lashed out any of her anger on you— jolting, you’re taken aback by the way she practically leaps on you, arms caging you in a bone crushing hug as she buries her head into your shoulder— the sounds of her sniffles are enough to have you snapping out of your frozen state, arms coming up to hold the woman tightly in return. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she mutters, her hands gripping onto your clothes at the reminder, “I’m so glad he’s alive.”

“He’s safe, Ms. Choi. He’s okay, he’ll recover in no time,” your reassurance is soft and endless as you pat her back, allowing her to cry freely into your arms as you give her a moment to recollect herself— sniffing, she pulls away, wiping at her eyes before her gaze falls on Yoongi. 

“Ma’am,” Yoongi nods, his face tense as he awaits for her to say something; his face mirrors your own as he’s pulled into a hug, eyes widening and posture stiffening before he slowly returns the gesture.

“Thank you for bringing my son back to me,” she says, pulling away before she reaches up to cup Yoongi’s face; she takes him in, smiling tenderly as she adds, “I’m happy to see you’ve been well.”

Yoongi smiles at her comment; he’s surprised to see that she still remembers him, times spent visiting you at work and pestering you coming to mind as he lets out a soft laugh. 

“They said only immediate family is allowed to visit at this time,” you mutter softly, taking her attention as she turns to face you, “We’ll wait out here for you.”

Taking your hands, she nods; you can see how apologetic she is as she takes a moment to smile reassuringly, telling you that she’ll let you know how he’s doing before she disappears inside— watching her figure retreat, you can’t help but frown after a moment, wondering if she’ll be alright on her own. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, the reality of it all hitting you again as you tilt your head back defeatedly; staring at the night sky, you bury your hands into your pockets, fighting the emotions that threaten to spill over as you speak, “How the fuck am I supposed to handle all this now.” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Yoongi says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he becomes quick to reassure you, “I can help you out, I know some people.”

“No Yoongi,” you quickly say, shrugging off his shoulder as you send him a stern look, “I don’t want you to get involved in any shady stuff over this— I got this, you don’t need to worry.” 

Your argument continues to go back and forth for a while— Taehyun feels insanely awkward as he’s forced to watch, unsure of what to do as he wonders if it’s just best to sneak away and go back inside— after what seems like ten minutes, he realizes he’s had enough as he goes to butt in. 

“Let’s just win that stupid thing back,” Taehyun blurts out, stopping the both of you in your tracks as you slowly turn to look at him, “you said they’d probably hold another tournament, no? We’ll just win it back through there.”

“Are you—?” you cut yourself off as you place a hand over your mouth, running it down in frustration before you’re starting again, “You were invited to that place by Choi Yeonjun, a fucking rat. You really think they’d just let you waltz back in and join?”

“Minho—” Taehyun says, pausing for a moment as he frowns, thinking back to what the owner of the place said, “You’ll be back soon. That’s what he said, no?”

“He wants us to come back,” Yoongi realizes, glancing at you as he watches the way your jaw clenches in annoyance, “He knew we’d be back for that damn prize.”

“And what better way to draw in gamblers than with a match after tonight’s show,” you continue, your mind racing with ideas before you’re finally looking back at Taehyun, “But what, how are we supposed to arrange something like this? You seriously think we can just walk in and have a civilized conversation?” 

⊹⊹⊹

“Are you fucking insane?” 

Taehyun’s hushed scolding is enough to have you rolling your eyes, unphased by his reaction as you tug your shirt over your jeans more; shrugging your jacket on, you nod back at Yoongi, who only returns the gesture after he’s zipped his own coat up; you can barely feel the gun that’s tucked into your waistband, but Taehyun is determined to not allow you to forget about it as his eyes fall onto it’s hiding spot every three seconds. 

“It’s rude to stare,” you mumble, slapping Taehyun’s shoulder and forcing him to turn back around; you allow Yoongi to lead the way through the busy streets, the bright alleyways and busy shops entirely inconspicuous as you make your way to a familiar store, entirely empty except for the owner that attends it. 

There are no customers when you enter; The store is packed with products and is poorly lit, and it’s oddly quiet as you walk around; making your way around the aisles swiftly, it almost feels like muscle memory before you’re stopping at the checkout— narrowing your eyes, you’re not surprised to find Minho sitting on a stool behind the register, not bothering to look up from the book he reads as he adjusts his thin wired glasses slightly— leaning on the counter, you clear your throat, raising a brow as you tap your fingers rhythmically on the surface. 

“A win is only official after it is announced by the referee; if both fighters fail to present themselves in the ring, the match is invalid.” Minho doesn’t bother to look up from his book as he speaks; carefully, he reaches to fold the page he’s on, pressing his fingers on the dog-ear meticulously before he’s shutting the book gingerly; placing it on the counter, he finally looks up, smiling sweetly as he does so. 

“But you already know that, don’t you?”

“You’re holding another tournament, aren’t you,” you say, the words coming out as a statement rather than a question.

“Perhaps.”

“We want in,” you can see the way Minho processes your words, his eyes scanning from you to Yoongi before his smile is growing a bit wider; catching onto his thought process, you’re quick to shake your head, reaching behind you and pulling Taehyun roughly as you ignore the way he stumbles forward.

“I mean him. Just him.”

Minho’s smile wavers a little— you can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes decrease slightly, but his expression is still amused as he quickly recalls who the fighter in front of him is; narrowing his eyes, Minho hums, oddly docile as he looks back at you.

“Fine,” to say that it’s unnerving to watch Minho agree so easily is an understatement; you’re sharing a confused look with Yoongi as you watch the way Minho stands from his seat, rounding the counter before he begins to walk away— glancing back at you, he nods to the exit, telling you to follow him before he continues walking. 

Before you can think too hard on it, you’re tugging the two men along; anything to make sure he doesn’t disappear from your sight, you think, but you can’t help but pat yourself down slightly in search of your gun the moment you see where you’re headed. 

“Relax, it’s empty right now,” Minho hums, swinging the door wide open and allowing you to see, smiling in amusement as he takes in the way you remain a few steps back, “I’ve decided that a tournament is just too simple.”

“After the glorious show you put on last night, I knew my patrons would love to see more of your people,” Minho continues, a satisfied look flashing through his features as the three of you finally make your way to his level, peeking through the door cautiously, “and what better way than to skip the bracket and give the public what they want?” 

There’s a single person inside; you’re on guard as you watch them, the dull lights of the place barely allowing you to see them as you squint your eyes; He’s practicing, you realize, watching as he uses the punch bag before him diligently, his sounds of effort reaching you as he continues. 

“One v. One match,” Minho smiles, glancing into the door to see what the man inside is up to; the four of you watch as he does a spin kick, the force from it sending the punching bag flying to the side, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the empty area as you wince at the sight.

The man lets out a huff of exhaustion after; he’s backing up, shaking his body as he steps into the light that emits from a window behind him— pushing his hair back, you’re able to take in his features, your eyes widening as you realize who it is that currently stands before you. 

“Your fighter versus mine— The Cobra.”

The Cobra— otherwise known as Park Jongseong— or rather, Minho’s last apprentice before you left.

“The best of the best, no?” Minho continues, his gaze meeting your own as he smiles knowingly, “you win this, you win everything— no questions asked, no… attacks, on my part.”

You can already hear Yoongi’s thoughts behind you; this is dangerous, this is a horrible, insane idea. 

And you agree— you agree wholeheartedly, hesitating to respond as you take another moment to observe The Cobra— yet it seems as though you’ve taken too long, lost deep in your own thoughts as you fail to account for another, stupid variable. 

“Deal,” Taehyun butts in, leaving you speechless as you’re forced to watch the way he shakes Minho’s hand casually; the older man can only laugh at the action, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes meet yours— his smile only widens more as he takes in your baffled expression.

You find yourself speechless— even when you go back up to discuss the rules and terms of the fight, speechless when Yoongi reluctantly agrees, and speechless when you walk out of the inconspicuous store, your hands clutching tightly onto the paper given to you with the specific details of the match. 

You’re only able to muster up the courage to look at Taehyun once you’ve gotten back in the car safely; he meets your gaze after a moment, brows furrowing as he finds himself annoyed with your dumbstruck expression. 

“What the hell do you want?” 

This stupid boy has no idea what he just got himself into.

⊹⊹⊹

“Three weeks,” you say, pacing back and forth as you find yourself in the last place you would ever want to be; Seokjin’s small fight club is no match to the basement of FightX, but it’s enough for you to train in as you choose to look past the dimly lit area, the natural light that leaks in from the small windows above the only thing that allows you to see properly— Taehyun watches you impatiently, stretching his muscles as he stands by the training equipment in attention, wanting nothing more than to get started already. 

“For the next three weeks, you’ll throw away any plans you’ve made— I expect to see you here everyday for training.”

”Wait, you’re training me?” Taehyun interjects, watching the way you narrow your eyes at him in warning— he looks back to where Yoongi sits, slumped over in his chair as he smiles lazily the moment their eyes meet— then he looks back at you, biting his lip before he continues, “Why not him?”

“Because you want to get trained by the best, no?” Yoongi calls out, already able to see the way you bristle at Taehyun’s comment; the said boy nods, lips pressed together as he takes a moment to observe you again, “Then she’ll be training you. Now watch your mouth before you sweet trainer here decides enough is enough.”

“But the restaurant,” Taehyun backtracks, realizing how his comment may have come off as he speaks, “Won’t you be busy?” 

“Winning that tournament is more important,” you say, not missing a beat as you begin to stretch, “Especially since you agreed to fight The Cobra, of all people.”

“Seriously, why is that a big deal?” Taehyun huffs, rolling his eyes as you signal for him to continue stretching, “the dude can’t be that dangerous.”

“That dude has been in the ring for years,” Yoongi says, catching Taehyun’s attention as he pauses in his movements, “Much longer than you, to be sure.”

“Meaning,” you continue, sighing in dismay at the thought of your next words, “He’s been trained by Minho himself.”

“And us.” 

The sudden revelation is enough to have Taehyun tensing; stomach sinking, he seems to realize why you were so hesitant to agree to this arrangement. 

“Anything we teach you, Park Jongseong has already mastered,” you say, putting on focus mitts before you gesture for Taehyun to come closer, “That’s where you come in— I’ve been praying that you’d be a decent fighter, hoping you’d have some skills of your own we could hone in on.”

Taehyun frowns at your words— you aren’t exactly the most encouraging person he’s met, and he can even feel his confidence dwindling as he stands before you, pausing as he watches you put up your mitted hands— a moment passes and you’re rolling your eyes, scoffing at the way Taehyun seems to be hesitant before you. 

“What are you waiting for?” you scold, your tough voice enough for the man to snap out of his daze; his expression is unreadable as you watch a shift in his form, his hesitation quickly being wiped off as he takes a step toward you— his stance is shifting, and you watch with delight as his eyes turn dangerous, honing in on your mitts as he brings his fists up. 

Let’s see what you got. 

⊹⊹⊹ 

“Again.” 

For once, Taehyun begins to realize the consequences of his actions. 

His body is on fire; he feels as though all his strength has escaped him, pushing his hair back for the upteenth time as he winces at the sweat that coats it— you remain unphased, and Taehyun wonders for a second if you have unlimited stamina as you raise your brow at him expectantly. 

His body has yet to become accustomed to this new schedule. He’s gotten used to seeing you every day, reviewing techniques and giving him pointers before you’re giving him a thorough workout; tonight, you’ve decided to focus on his kicks, bringing up many different fighting styles and forcing him to practice on the punching bag that hangs in a nearby corner. 

“Come on, can’t we just take a break? I’ve been at this for—“

“I said again,” you interrupt, glaring at the way Taehyun sends you an irritated look; Taehyun has grown used to your intimidation tactics after spending more time with you than should be considered normal, your once terrifying anger nothing more than something Taehyun has to put up with as he sighs— he still knows better than to go against you, though.

And so, he does exactly what you taught him— though it’s sloppy, and he knows he’ll get an earful as he executes the kick weakly— though, he personally blames your refusal to give him a proper break for his actions.  

“Have you not been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying?” you ask, exasperated as you make your way to him; standing next to him, you gesture for him to step aside, getting in front of the punching bag yourself before you’re getting into the proper stance. 

“I need you to remember to swing your hips; like this,” stepping forward with your right foot, you extend your left leg slowly, twisting your hips along with the motion as you freeze, gesturing to your hips, “If you don’t, your kick won’t be as powerful; you need to put your whole body into it, not just your leg.”

Stepping back, you demonstrate again, pushing through the rest of the kick as you listen to the thud that echoes from your move— Taehyun can’t help the way his eyes widen as he watches the punching bag swing back and forth, analyzing your form before another thought is popping into his head. 

“That kick,” Taehyun mumbles, switching spots with you as he begins to envision what you just did, trying to get his body to recreate it before he pauses, “Beomgyu did that— he used that move all the time.” 

“Yeah? Glad he finally got it right,” you sigh, unfazed by his words as you cross your arms, smiling in amusement— Taehyun turns to look at you, frowning in confusion as you practically read his mind, “Hey, if I can’t stop that idiot from sneaking off to this place, I might as well make sure he doesn’t die.”

The laugh you let out after is tense and bittersweet; Beomgyu was doing much better now, but he remained in the hospital due to complications from the infection of his wound— you were given the news that he would most likely need physical therapy as well, the sound of it only motivating you to work harder after you watched the way Ms. Choi paled with the news. 

“He almost knocked you out with it? Holy shit,” you laugh, incredulous as Taehyun tells you the details of his first encounter with the boy— the proud smile that spreads across your face catches Taehyun off guard, your eyes twinkling with delight as you gesture back to the punching bag. “Don’t you wanna get as good as him? Come on, show me you’re not all talk.”

The sudden comparison to Beomgyu has Taehyun bristling with annoyance, rolling his eyes as he reluctantly follows your words— a strange, nagging feeling manifests within his mind, telling him to prove himself and dispel all your worries about him as a fighter— it motivates him, taking a deep breath before he’s getting into the proper stance; closing his eyes, he envisions his body following the same movement path you did, eyes zeroing in on the punching bag before him as he finally executes the kick. 

“There we go,” you hiss, an excited grin spreading on your face as you listen to the impact of Taehyun’s kick— though it’s too early for the said man to celebrate, his eyes lighting up for a second before you’re back to pester him for pointers. 

“You need to stay light on your feet,” you remind him, rolling your eyes at the way he tries to interfere with your comment, telling you that it’s because I’m exhausted, “Do you think Jongseong will care if you’re tired? You think he’s gonna go easy on you if you start bitching at him the way you are now?”

“There’s no need for you to be such a bitch, either,” Taehyun sneers, getting back into stance as he watches the way you remain unfazed by his comment. 

“Maybe I’ll start being nice once you prove to be useful.” you mutter, and Taehyun swears the anger that courses through him fuels his kick as he feels his body twisting with energy— so much energy that he’s losing his footing, the impact that booms from his move much louder than his previous attempts as he stumbles back— from the corner of his eyes, he sees the way your eyes widen slightly at the sight.

“Not bad,” you say, tilting your head as you study Taehyun for a second; he’s exhausted and soaked with sweat, his eyes filled with pure anger and frustration you might just think he’ll fight you instead— the thought is enough to have you stifling a laugh, your lips twitching slightly before you’re snapping back to reality. 

“You need to practice your balance if you’re gonna use your body like that,” humming softly, you think for a second, brows furrowing as you continue, “if anything, you should try some spinning hook kicks— that could improve your balance great—”

“You’re here again?” the voice that yells out from the entrance has you startled for a second, turning around before you’re groaning in frustration; you’re leaving Taehyun’s side immediately as you go to the source of the sound— Seokjin seems to be just as annoyed as you are, turning on the rest of the lights with an irritated look on his face. 

“You know why we’re here, Seokjin,” you say, yet the reminder of your reasoning doesn’t seem to be enough for the man, watching as he shakes his head in disapproval. 

“You know I have a club to run, right?” it’s clear you’ve given up as you mutter a yeah yeah, softly, pouting like a child to the older man, “I can’t have this place running while you’re training that poor kid to death.”

“My regimen has results.” you say defensively, glaring at Seokjin, who simply puts up his hands in defeat, unphased by your attitude as he glances back at Taehyun.

“He looks like he’s about to pass out.” 

Following Seokjin’s line of sight, you find yourself wincing; it seems that you’ve only now gotten a good look at the man, watching the way he’s already slumped down at the bench nearby, his chest heaving with shallow breaths and his eyes fluttering as he holds onto his water bottle tightly— frowning, you listen to the way Seokjin quietly asks you how long have you been in here today? your mind going back to the hours you’ve spent cooped inside this building— not to mention day after day. 

“Go back to opening this place,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at the way Seokjin smiles triumphantly— the guilt you feel is odd as you approach Taehyun, standing by awkwardly as you watch the way he doesn’t even acknowledge you, much too tired to even open his eyes. 

“Hey. Don’t pass out on me,” you say, slapping Taehyun’s bicep and watching as he startles awake— his eyes meet yours, wincing at the sudden increase of light as he squints up at you.

“We’re done for today. Let’s go,” you mutter, unsure of what else to do as you give Taehyun a helping hand; he observes it for a moment, oddly skeptical before he finally takes it— his skin is surprisingly soft for having the hands of a fighter, though you try not to let it show on your face as you help him up; the groan of exertion he lets out isn’t lost on you, and you’re surprised to find yourself feeling bad for doing this to him. 

A pitch black night greets you the moment you’re exiting the building, yelling one last goodbye to Seokjin before you’re closing the door behind you— you can hear Taehyun softly grumble about having to climb way too many stairs, and you can only let out a huff in amusement before you’re linking an arm with him for support.

“Come on tiger, don’t let a set of stairs knock you out,” you mock, ignoring his angered rebuttals that he can barely slur out— you’ve really done a number on him today, you realize, the witty man beside you reduced to nothing more than a slumped figure as he continues to complain under his breath, leaving you unfazed the moment he tries to complain about your routines again. 

“Don’t make me regret what I’m about to do for you,” is all you say in response, leading him to your car as you ignore his protests that he just wants to go home, “It’s been hours since you’ve eaten— come on, let’s go see Beomgyu, I bet he’s going insane from the hospital food.”

You’re not sure if it’s the sound of food or the mention of Beomgyu that has Taehyun perking up with interest, but you’re rolling your eyes at him nonetheless as you’re starting your car; driving towards Ms. Choi’s restaurant, you’re guessing it’s the former as Taehyun tells you that all he wants at the moment is some simple ramen. 

The drive is calming— Taehyun doesn’t seem as annoying to you anymore, but a glance at him makes you realize it’s only because he’s knocked out in your passenger’s seat, completely silent save for his occasional shifting to get more comfortable.

Now this is a side of him you like. 

⊹⊹⊹

Seokjin’s words seem to have affected you more than you’d like to admit. 

At least, they definitely have if it’s enough to have Taehyun staring at you as though you’ve gone mad, feeling a strange heat rush to your cheeks as you press your lips together awkwardly. 

“Are you messing with me?” 

“No. Unless you want to go back to the usual,” you snap, and Taehyun can only put his hands up in surrender as he bows his head down; your proposal to have a rest day feels odd to Taehyun, even more so when you’ve already managed to drag the man all the way to the club.

“What’re we even doing here then?”

“There’s less than a week left before the match,” you sigh, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket as you pause to check the message— you feel your shoulders slump with relief as you’re answering, glancing up at Taehyun, who was already watching you curiously.

“While you have shown improvement in your techniques, there’s still more you could improve on,” your sentence is interrupted as the sound of the door opens, the two of you turning to see who might be coming in— while Taehyun fully expected Jin to burst inside and start complaining, he’s surprised to find something else. 

“I don’t want your body to wear out on me, so I’ll tone down the intensity of your routines as the final day approaches,” you continue, unfazed by the people that begin to approach— Yoongi is casual as he sends the two of you a wave, the woman next to him sending you a cheery nod before her gaze is falling on Taehyun.

“And we’ll work on your fighting IQ instead.” 

One glance at Taehyun is enough to tell you that he has yet to connect the dots; you’re gesturing for the woman next to Yoongi to step forward, bringing her to your side before you’re introducing her— Taehyun notes that the two of you must be good friends, if the way she clings to you happily is enough of a sign. 

“This is Sooyoung,” you say, and the woman next to you— Sooyoung— simply smiles, her eyes creasing and her face lighting up as she sends Taehyun a friendly wave, “Sooyoung, Taehyun.”

“So he’s the reckless boy you were telling me about?” Sooyoung asks, tinted lips pursing as she stares Taehyun down— the nickname is enough to have Taehyun’s gaze hardening, sending the woman a harsh look that only makes her laugh— the woman’s bubbly attitude feels far more patronizing than genuine as she tilts her head like a puppy. 

“I do see potential,” she murmurs, lost in thought for a second before she’s snapping out of it— turning to Yoongi, she practically bounces over to him, and it isn’t until then that Taehyun takes in the duffle bag that the man carried in with him. 

“The locker rooms are back there, right?” Sooyoung asks, looking at you expectantly before you’re sending her a nod of confirmation. Cool. Be right back! she says, skipping away with the duffle bag, her long dark hair swaying behind her as Taehyun’s mouth falls open at his words.

“Is she— am I fighting her?” Taehyun breathes out, a bit skeptical as he looks at you in bewilderment. All he gets in return is the usual roll of your eyes, unable to hold back your laugh at his stupidity. 

“No dumbass,” You say, reaching up for the zipper of your jacket before you’re tugging it down— it isn’t until you’re shedding the layer off that Taehyun takes in your appearance, your hair tied back and your face turning serious as you begin stretching— he takes note of your hands, wrapped tightly in the wraps he always uses as his brows are jumping up in realization— catching his reaction, you smile. 

“I am.” 

Sooyoung is skipping out of the locker room moments later; it’s hard to not notice her, especially with her bright trunks and wraps that match the rest of her outfit— a bright green, the hair tie that keeps her hair up the exact same color as she makes her way to the cage. 

“You’ll be my coach for this. I’ll only follow your instructions, so you better not get me fucked up,” you explain, joining Sooyoung by the cage before you’re turning back— Taehyun has yet to follow you, his brows furrowed as he waits for you to tell him you’re joking; instead, you’re left unamused as you cross your arms, hissing for him to hurry up and get over here. 

“How is this supposed to help?” Taehyun asks, his gaze following you as you make your way inside; he’s never seen you like this, and though he hates to admit it, you’ve definitely piqued his interest.

“Seriously, are you always like this?” Is all you can say, looking down at Taehyun from where you stand within the cage— Taehyun remains silent, choosing to hold his tongue for once as he simply stares at you in response.

“You’ve never seen The Cobra fight. You don’t know what moves he’ll pull or how to counter them,” you begin, glancing back to the opposite corner; Sooyoung is crouched down in it, speaking to Yoongi through the fence as they throw the occasional look back at you, “You need to learn how to analyze your opponent— their tells, fighting style, go-to moves— everything.”

“Yoongi is coaching Joy in this match; the next match, he’ll be coaching me.” Taehyun finally seems to understand as he looks at Sooyoung— or Joy, as you called her, the strange nickname not going unnoticed by him as he furrows his brows at the sound of it. Yoongi coached Jongseong— so did you. 

Through this match, he’ll get to take a peek into his opponents mind, no matter how miniscule. 

After a minute of discussion, you finally decide to start the first round; Taehyun is oddly anxious as he watches you, your footsteps careful and calculated as you watch Joy, eyes narrowed and dark as you keep your guard up— the said man’s advice runs through your head, knowing you warned him you’d mostly be using his tips as you circle Joy carefully. 

Taehyun realizes why Sooyoung is called Joy; he almost feels unnerved looking at her, the carefree smile and relaxed body language entirely enticing, a perfect trap to lure someone into lowering their guard— but Taehyun knows better than to think lowly of anyone you decide to bring in, her light steps and playful jabs enough to tell him that she’s definitely more calculative than she lets on.

Taehyun’s advice gets you a solid punch to the face and a painful kick to the stomach— it hurts like hell and makes you want to fight properly, but the need to allow Taehyun to improve on his own is nagging as you take the injuries and trudge over after the round is over, eyes pointed at him as though to say now what?

“Don’t look at me like that,” Taehyun hisses, annoyed at the way you already seem to be losing— he knows you can fight, yet the results of the round say otherwise as you stare at him expectantly, enough of a reminder that you currently put all strategies into his hands. 

“Okay, okay,” he sighs, glancing back at the corner Joy and Yoongi currently converse in, “It’s clear that she enjoys taunting you. A lot.”

Taehyun seems to be talking more to himself than anything, thinking back to what he saw as he continues rambling, “But she seems to have this tell— every time she’s going to strike, she smiles a bit— which is fucking creepy— it’s barely there but I’ve noticed it, especially in her eyes.”

His comments have you both impressed and amused; it had taken you quite some time to figure out Joy’s tell when you first met her, so to watch as Taehyun thoroughly breaks down her fighting style is enough to have you listening to him intently. 

“I think she’s aware of it too, because her rear hand always comes a little closer to her face when she does it—” the one-minute timer is up as Yoongi calls you back to the center of the ring, and you’re looking at Taehyun expectantly for one last comment— with his train of thought interrupted, he stumbles over his words, giving up after a moment before he’s waving you off. 

“Just watch her tells. Oh, and avoid her kicks, that looked like it hurt.”

The way you scoff mockingly isn’t lost on Taehyun— but before he can call you out on it, you’re off, the next round starting as Taehyun watches you carefully.

Joy’s tell has become much more obvious to him; it only takes a moment, but he’s able to see every small habit and go-to that Joy has, his mind racing with strategies as he quickly realizes you’re doing the same. Joy is a predictable fighter to you— granted, she was your sparring partner for years— and with Taehyun’s new discovery, you allow yourself to exploit what you know of her and use it to your advantage. 

You’re able to turn the match around with ease— Taehyun isn’t able to fight the way his eyes slowly begin to stray, away from Joy and to you, observing the way you remain focused, your moves precise and strong as he even finds himself wincing at times.

After a moment, Taehyun realizes that he’s seeing you in a new light— literally and figuratively, the spotlights suddenly turned on as someone new walks in— it highlights your features perfectly, and Taehyun is able to see your expression crystal clear, watching as your focus is shattered and you’re looking over at the entrance; the small moment of distraction costs you greatly, and Joy is able to land a punch straight to your nose before you’re falling down. 

You’re placed into a tight chokehold seconds after, still disoriented from the punch as you reluctantly tap out— gasping for air, you’re quickly turning back to the entrance, glaring daggers at Jungkook, who simply smiles at you sheepishly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, cheeks reddening slightly from the sudden attention, “we’re just getting ready to open soon— you looked really cool though, ___.”

A moment passes before you’re laughing softly at his comment— Taehyun can’t help but wonder what might be going on between you two as Joy pulls you up, calling an early end to the match before you’re both exiting the cage. 

“That was super fun,” Sooyoung hums, watching as you can only agree reluctantly; she coos at your disgruntled state, patting your head and laughing cutely as she apologizes for her harsh blows; turning to Taehyun, her smile widens, and Taehyun is impressed to find a bruise forming on her jawline as she speaks. 

“___ told me you figured out my tells,” she pouts, her tone playful as she crosses her arms, “I seriously thought I finally got past those. Well done.” 

Taehyun feels oddly embarrassed as he nods.

“Let’s continue where we left off tomorrow,” you say, glancing over to where Jungkook busies himself at the bar, ignoring the way all of you seem to observe him for a second before you continue, “Looks like you’re not that useless after all.”

“I think he’ll be okay!” Sooyoung says, a bright smile on her face as she looks at Taehyun happily, “I mean, if you keep going the way you are, you’ll definitely survive!”

The way you and Yoongi snicker makes Taehyun’s jaw clench, rolling his eyes at the way they all constantly patronize him— his lack of response is enough to have Sooyoung apologizing softly, saying that she just loves to tease.

“We should go,” you say, throwing your jacket back on and zipping it up all the way, “they’re opening soon, and I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t wanna be in a place like this any longer.”

Yoongi and Sooyoung agree— they mumble something along the lines of “brings back too many memories,” the words making Taehyun raise a brow as he begins to wonder just how many people you knew from that club. 

Taehyun feels awkward as he watches them leave— it’s just you and him, and he’s forced to stand around awkwardly as he watches you gather your things, reluctant to leave you for reasons he can’t seem to think of. 

“___, you’re not staying?” Jungkook’s soft pout is a stark contrast to the rest of him, decked in full black and piercings that shine under the lights— Taehyun wonders if the bartender is secretly a fighter as well, the muscle that bulges from his arm not remotely subtle, even under the sleeves of his shirt. 

“Nah, I’m too tired. I took a good beating ‘cause of you,'' you say, watching as Jungkook only smiles sheepishly. Your body feels sore and you’re more than ready to go home and rest, but the way Jungkook continues to give you puppy eyes suggests that you might have to fight him off too. 

“I can patch you up,” he says, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way he flutters his eyes at you, “I haven’t seen you in so long— you’re never at the restaurant, you know.”

“Well, I am kinda busy,” you say, nodding softly at Taehyun who, to your surprise, is still at your side. 

Jungkook remains silent for a second. His eyes leave yours as they inspect Taehyun, analyzing the man who simply huffs and crosses his arms in annoyance. Meeting his eyes, Taehyun refuses to back down, raising a brow as he waits for Jungkook to say something to him. 

“Aren’t you tired of being around him all the time?” Jungkook finally speaks, clearly set on ignoring Taehyun as he turns back to you— his smile is seemingly innocent as he leans against the counter, ignoring his duties as he continues to try to get you to stay, “I can bet you I’m more fun to be around than him.”

“Noona,” Taehyun says, his voice stern and clear as speaks. This time, you both turn to him; your shock is clear on your face, eyes wide and confused as your brows knit together, wondering where the sudden formality appeared from. 

“We should go. This place is opening soon,” he says, watching as your mouth opens in an attempt to respond— though you can’t seem to figure out what to say, and Taehyun is quick to roll his eyes and go ahead— with one last glance at Jungkook, you bid him goodbye, feeling oddly tense as you follow Taehyun outside. 

“Shit,” he hears you say, though he doesn’t pay any mind to it as he stands outside— the smell of rain lingers in the air, the city alight and busy even after dark hours— from behind him, he can still hear you mumbling to yourself, your words incoherent and irritated to his ears. 

“You know, if you wanted to stay with that guy you could’ve—“ he’s stopped short by the sight of you, brows furrowed together and a sleeve pressed firmly to your nose as you curse under your breath— though the blood that ran out of your nose still clings to your chin, and you have yet to wipe it off as you continue to complain about the issue quietly, digging in your bag as you ignore Taehyun. 

“Hey, you don’t happen to have tissues, do you—?” 

The answer is a definite no. Taehyun can feel himself acting on impulse— maybe it was because the sight made him cringe, or maybe he was looking out for your safety— but next thing he knows, he’s tugging you along, away from the hidden building and straight to the convenience store a block away. 

“Wait, where are we even going?” You ask, unable to put up much of a fight as you focus on keeping the bleeding under control. Taehyun doesn’t answer, and when you attempt to tug your arm out of his grip, all you get in response is the feeling of his fingers tightening around you. 

“Tissues,” Taehyun mumbles, tugging you into the store without a second thought. 

You feel oddly awkward around him— you’re not used to seeing him like this— he’s quiet, serious and not the same person that’s always trying to piss you off with some ridiculous comment. Instead, he’s oddly tentative, and you find yourself sitting at the table placed outside as you watch him rummage through the bag, pulling out one thing after another as you sit there, pressing the tissue he gave you a bit firmer to your nose. 

“This wasn’t necessary, you know,” you say quietly, eyes narrowing as you observe him carefully— despite your constant reassurance that you didn’t want him to spend on you, you currently watch him eat his instant noodles in silence, your own still covered up and warm while the two of you wait for your nose bleed to die down— though you pretend otherwise, you notice the way he glances at you every other second to see how you’re doing, offering to pour you a bit of soju that you decline with a soft scoff. 

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice,” he comments, his words muffled through a mouthful of noodles— he ignores your scolding to not talk with his mouth full, clicking your tongue in annoyance as you only get a roll of his eyes in return. 

“Yeah…. thanks,” you mutter, barely audible as you take the tissue away from your nose slowly— Taehyun is mid-bite as he freezes, eyes darting up to observe you— and you smile slightly, relieved to feel that your nose bleed is finally gone. 

“Ugh, that was so annoying,” you grumble, wiping at your face for any blood that’s still there; you’re fussing quietly to yourself, unable to notice as Taehyun begins to rummage through his plastic bag once more, finally finding his desired item before he throws it at you, the small packet landing right in front of you unceremoniously. 

“Here,” is all he says, avoiding any more eye-contact as he goes back to eating, the ramen disappearing within seconds from how quickly he eats. 

An odd silence falls between you; the ‘thank you’ you let out is barely audible, your demeanor awkward as you open the packet of wet wipes he tossed at you— he simply nods at you in response, and you find yourself feeling tense as you watch him sit back in his seat, shameless in the way he stares you down, clear in thought as he presses his lips together. 

“Back at the club,” you begin awkwardly, folding the wet tissue in your hands as you speak, “you called me “noona”— the hell was that about? You’re not one for formalities.”

“But you’re older, aren’t you?” Taehyun says, oddly unfazed by your sudden line of questioning, “Thought I might as well start, if we’re spending so much time together.”

“Not even Beomgyu calls me that,” you say, bristling at the way he quotes Jungkook— you feel oddly flustered by the sudden title, even more so when Taehyun simply looks up at you after a moment— his eyes are wide and innocent as he observes you, and slowly, he breaks out into a soft smile. 

“I’m just being polite,” he says, straightening in his seat as he tilts his head, “Noona.”

“Enough of that,” you bark out, gritting your teeth at the way he only grins at your response, “We need to talk strategy— your fight’s a few days away.”

“Right, right,” Taehyun says, chopsticks circling the inside of his bowl as pauses, thinking back to the man he only got a glimpse of in FightX, “Jongseong— what’s he like?” 

The sudden question has you sitting back in your chair, deep in thought as you think back to Jongseong— The Cobra, or the scrawny thirteen-year-old boy that stumbled into Minho’s convenience store by what you thought was an accident. 

“Can you teach me how to fight?” He had asked you, eyes wide and innocent as he stared up at you, a mere sixteen-year-old that worked at Minho’s store as a side hustle. You remembered pretending as though you had no idea what he was talking about, laughing off the way his curious gaze drifted over the pain patches on your shoulders and your bruised knuckles.

“Where’s your mother?” You remembered asking, incredulous at the way he refused to leave or buy anything; instead, he insisted that you teach him to fight, gluing his feet to the floor despite the fact that you chose to ignore any questions he had about you and your secret hobbies. 

“Don’t know,” he admitted casually, and it wasn’t until then that you noticed his roughed up appearance, his face dirtied and bruised, and his hair filled with dirt and twigs, “she doesn’t come home until night time. I’m alone right now.”

“What… happened to your face?” You asked him, leaning on the counter to get a closer look; you remember reaching over to rid his hair of the dirt, watching as he scrunched his face and slapped your hand off in reaction— the sight of him was an eerie mirror of your own before you found Minho, your brows furrowing at the tough front this kid seemed to put up. 

“Some stupid kids at my school,” he brushed you off, running a hand through his hair as he felt the dirtiness of it with a wince; looking back at you, he took in your concerned expression, frowning at the sight as he leaned against the counter. 

“You know,” he says, raising a brow at the way you study his injuries, “If you’re that worried, why don’t you teach me how to fight?”

His proposition caught your attention— his words were reminiscent of your own, years ago, when you stumbled upon Minho’s small club by accident, a sad attempt to find asylum— and suddenly, you found yourself thinking it through. 

“Okay. But just for self-defense.”

“So you practically raised him,” Taehyun says, the very thought of it making you shiver as you shake your head no, your eye twitching at his words, “No? Well, you did train him, right?”

“Well, he trained for a good two years. Yoongi and I trained him for a while since everyone was too busy to deal with another newbie, and Minho…” sighing, you go to open your own instant noodles, now cooled and a bit soggy as you wince slightly at the sight, “Minho had the idea to throw him in the ring after he reached fifteen.”

You still remember his first fight— you remember being strictly against it the moment Minho proposed it, sudden and instant as he quickly escorted Jongseong away from you; you, being freshly out of a match, barely had any energy to fight back properly. 

“This isn’t what he wants. This is too dangerous, Minho,” you remembered telling him, trying to reason with him despite the roaring spectators drowning your voice out. You remembered how Jongseong looked under Minho’s arm; small, skittish and tense, his eyes flicking around the cage in attempts to familiarize himself with the layout as Minho’s fingers only dug deeper into his shoulder. 

“Of course it’s what he wants,” Minho responded, always quick to leave you helpless with the way he towered over you, a Cheshire smile on his lips as his eyes twinkled with a dangerous delight, “Don’t you remember how you were in your first fight? Could barely throw a punch.”

Before you could argue, Minho continued. 

“You know he has potential. What, afraid he’ll steal the spotlight from you and Yoongi?” Jongseong’s eyes flickered to you then— and in that moment, you realized just how long Minho seemed to have prepared him for this moment, the deep breath he took stabilizing him momentarily as Minho leaned down to speak quietly in his ear. 

“Do you know how much money you could make from today’s match?” Minho had told Jongseong sweetly, and the two of them looked over to the other side of the cage, where his opponent waited for him, “It’s your first match— but I’ve given you an easy kill, I know you’ll win.”

An easy kill— that was definitely one way to describe Jongseong’s victory. You watched first hand as the fear drained from Jongseong’s face, replaced with a dangerous gaze that you had never seen before; you watched as he threw perfect jabs, calculated and lethal as he landed hook after hook on his opponent. 

Even now, you can’t help but feel surprised at how protective you got over him— especially when he was sent flying with a kick to the stomach, crashing against the ground and leaving you tense as you watched the way he didn’t move. 

At the memory, you laugh softly— your eyes flicker up to Taehyun’s, your tone grim as you speak. 

“That was his winning move.”

His opponent got sloppy— he let his guard down, approaching Jongseong so casually that the punch he got to the jaw was definitely deserved— and though his body crashed to the floor and Jongseong was able to get the higher ground, he didn’t stop. 

“He doesn’t care if you’re down. He doesn’t care if he’s won,” you grit out, your appetite lost as you stare down at your cold food, the memory of Jongseong landing hit after hit to his weakened opponent making you frown. 

You still remember the look in his eyes as the referee tore him off his opponent; wild and hungry, still lusting for blood as he attempted to shake the authority figure off. Even when his eyes met yours, horrified at the person Jongseong transformed into, he didn’t care, his grin only widening as the referee announced his name, the audience going wild at the way his arm was thrust up in victory.

The spectacle of his lethal fighting style earned him his special nickname; Minho’s triumphant smile left a sick feeling in your stomach, forced to listen to the way the announcers paraded around Jongseong like a killer animal. 

After that day, you watched Jongseong grow into the person he is today; cold, calculated, and borderline murderous. 

“Every time I look at him, I’m reminded of the kid who came to me looking to learn self-defense,” you chuckle dryly, frowning at the memory, “Then I remember who he’s become, and I can’t help but feel responsible for it.”

“When I met Beomgyu through that god-forsaken club, I was reminded of Jongseong,” the sudden revelation has Taehyun listening intently, leaning in to watch as your eyes drift off to the city around you, foggy and reminiscent as you tell him your story. 

“For some reason, I thought that maybe this time, I could prevent him from becoming a monster,” you mutter, leaning your chin into your palm as you sigh, “Though, I don’t think I like this outcome either.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Taehyun quickly interjects, and he flinches slightly at the way your eyes flicker back to meet his, regarding him for a moment before you smile. 

“I know. It was yours.”

He’s not sure how to respond to that; he’s not sure if he should, unsure of what he should say or do as you stare him down silently— after a second, you’re breaking out into a soft laugh, tired and broken up as you wince from the feeling of your bruised ribs.

“I’m just fuckin with you,” you say, sitting up at you take in the way Taehyun visibly relaxes, “You didn’t force Beomgyu to do anything. It was all out of his free will.”

“And I kinda know that you lied about the whole thing being your idea.”

Your confession has Taehyun looking like a deer in headlights— it’s enough to make you laugh, easing the tense mood as he asks you how you knew.

“I had my suspicions from the very beginning,” you say, pausing for a second before you add cheekily, “And, Beomgyu told me.”

“Ah,” he mumbles, biting his lip as he tries to smile at you, “Sorry I lied.”

“Don’t be. It’s interesting that you chose to cover for him,” you say, returning the awkward smile as you add, “I should be the one sorry. For slapping the shit out of you.”

The two of you laugh— though, it’s a bit tense, and a silence falls between you two after.

“You… met Beomgyu? At that club?” He asks after a moment, watching the way you nod without hesitation. 

“Yeah. He was sixteen, I made sure to kick him out and warn him once I saw how his worried mother came looking for him. And it worked, for like two years. Then…” 

“Then Jin’s club opened.”

You raise a brow at his words, pausing in surprise before you’re nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, then Seokjin’s club opened,” you repeat slowly, frowning at the way he already knew, “Beomgyu found himself involved there, and it wasn’t long before his mother came to FightX looking for him. Jin’s club wasn’t as shady— I mean, compared to FightX, that place was like a church. I knew I didn’t have much to worry about, but I still decided to train him for a while… just to be safe.”

Taehyun sees the way your eyes are filled with nostalgia, a soft smile forming on your face from the memories.

“That’s kinda how I ended up where I am now. I could only drag Beomgyu back to his house so many times before his mother started treating me like family too,” meeting Taehyun’s gaze, you’re surprised to see him listening to you intently— it has you tensing slightly, not realizing how much you’ve revealed about yourself until now. 

“So,” you start, clearing your throat awkwardly from the way Taehyun’s gaze sears into you intensely, “What’s your story? How’d you end up in this scene?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing interesting,” Taehyun waves you off, though you refuse to be the only one delving into their personal life as you press Taehyun for details, “Seriously, it’s pretty normal.”

“Well, tell me anyways,” you say softly, tilting your head as you send Taehyun a challenging look, “Might as well get to know each other, if we’re spending so much time together.”

The way he laughs softly at your mocking comment is slightly contagious— and though you pretend otherwise, you notice the bittersweet look on his face as he reaches for the bottle of soju, pouring himself a shot for the first time in a while before he offers you one; with a slight laugh, you accept it. 

“I got into mma with a friend of mine— gave me lessons, sparred with each other, all that fancy stuff. We were really close, and getting into this hobby together only made us closer,” he laughed softly at his words, his mind filled with memories as he stared down at the table, “And now… Well. He’s not around anymore. Passed away less than a year ago.”

You frown softly at the way he pours himself another shot— the grief on his face is still fresh, you realize, his gaze hardening as he places the shot cup back down. 

“Without him, I felt… lost. I didn’t really know what to do with myself— after a while, I mostly felt angry.” His finger traces around the rim of the cup, slow and steady as he takes a moment to pause, “I hated that feeling. So, I tried finding the next best outlet, and found a few underground clubs. That’s how I met Beomgyu.”

The air is tense from his story; you’ve never been the best at comforting, so you find yourself unsure of what to do. After a moment, Taehyun laughs, taking in your tense expression with amusement, and it’s only then that your eyes fall onto the dimple that digs into his cheeks cutely. 

“God, I’m sure he’d go nuts if he knew the shit I got myself into,” he says, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head, “I’m not sure if he’d want to stop the fight or get front row seats— hell, probably the latter.”

Taehyun is quick to pick up on the glint of amusement in your eyes— he’s just as quick to reach for the soju bottle and pour the two of you another shot, the air much lighter than it was a moment ago as you watch him give you a bright smile, the sight unusual for you as you find yourself giving him an unsure one in return. 

“We only have three days left,” Taehyun says, bringing his glass up, watching the way you shake your head in amusement, “Let’s keep up the hard work, noona.”

“Don’t call me that.” You grimace, clinking your glass with his before you’re both downing the liquid—though you can’t help the slight smile that tugs at your lips in amusement, watching as Taehyun slowly becomes more open with you as you let him finish the bottle— I have to drive, idiot, you told him with a sneer, pushing the bottle back to him when he pouted that he shouldn’t be drinking alone. 

Taehyun is oddly light—and lightweight— though, not light enough for you to be tugging along back to your car, grimacing at the way he stumbles and knocks into you drunkenly.

“Noona,” he said to you, his words slow as he smiled at the way you snapped at him to not call you that, “Noona, you think I’ll win?”

“Fuck, I hope so,” you grumble, finding your car in the now-filled abandoned parking lot that was close to Jin’s, “It would be a huge fucking waste of time if you didn’t.”

“Okay then,” Taehyun pouts, pushing you away from him and walking off to his own car, only for you to tug him back to your own as you tell him he shouldn’t drive like this, “Why would I wanna be stuck in the car with someone who acts like such a bitch?”

“I act like a bitch because I care,” you bark, opening the car door and shoving him carelessly, only to watch as he turns back to look at you with that same, stupid, patronizing smile. 

“If you say so,” he says, his cheeks a bit flushed as he leans back towards you, “Nooooo...na.”

Your reaction is immediate— he feels as though the punch you land on his arm is enough to sober him, rubbing the sore area with a drunken pout.

“Get in the damn car.”

⊹⊹⊹

You currently stand outside FightX. There’s an hour left before the match.

You pace around in worry, unable to stand still as you hear the ruckus of the club and it’s awaiting patrons inside. Your brows are knitted in a deep frown and you can’t fight the way you bite your lip anxiously as you walk around in restless circles, over and over as you’re left in deep thought. 

“Stop that, you’re making me dizzy,” a voice calls out, snapping you out of your daze as you watch Taehyun walk up with a leisurely smile on his face— the sight is almost unnerving, his mood a complete opposite from yours as you watch him adjust the strap of his bag on his shoulder, taking a moment before he’s standing before you. 

“Aren’t you nervous?” You ask, watching as he simply shakes his head without hesitation, “you’d be stupid not to be��� although, that does make sense…”

“Hey,” he says, lips pressed into a line as he frowns at you, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t degrade me before the match. You’re messing up my concentration.” 

“Right. Of course,” you huff out, looking away and missing the way that Taehyun smiles, taking in your jittery figure with amusement— his expression is immediately dropping the moment you look back at him, and he’s mentally cursing at himself for suddenly being so weird. 

“Are you gonna make me workout before the match or something? Why are we here so early?” He asks, tilting his head and taking in your attire slowly; it’s not what you wear when you train him, but it’s still light and athletic as he raises a brow at your apparel, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to wear my energy out just yet.”

“I’m not making you do anything, I just needed you to be here so you could get into the right mindset.” you say, and your response is enough to leave Taehyun silent as he stares at you; it’s odd, and you find yourself unnerved by his analytic stare. “What? What’s wrong with you now?”

“Are you worried?” He asks, his question sudden as he takes a step toward you— startled, you try your best to remain unfazed, resisting the urge to take a step back as you take in his sudden proximity.

“Worried? About what?” You say, your responses much too curt to seem natural; mentally, you’re cursing at yourself for feeling so odd, unable to hide what you’re thinking as well as you usually are— especially under Taehyun’s scrutinizing gaze. 

“Worried…. That I’ll lose?” He says, leaning in slightly to get a better look at your face; you refuse to pull away, looking into his eyes and keeping your expresion blank despite how close he is— his scent is invading your senses, oddly alluring as you finally get a good look at the man before you, “Or… no.” 

Another pause. You don’t know what Taehyun might say next, but judging by the way his lips twitch with the hint of a smile, you know you won’t like it. 

“Maybe… worried I’ll get hurt?”

Your eye twitches. 

“Hmm. Okay,” he says, quick to catch your small reaction as he backs away, a smug smile on his face— you frown, wondering what he might be insinuating as you send him an incredulous look. 

“Okay? Okay what?” You say, watching as Taehyun chooses to remain silent— his sudden refusal to speak to you has you far more annoyed than you’d like, slapping his arm and telling him to look at you, irked by the way he deliberately ignores your request and looks around in wonder, “Okay what? Of course I’m concerned!” 

Your sudden confession has Taehyun’s gaze snapping back to yours. 

“If The Cobra takes you out, we lose. And if we lose,” you pause, taking in Taehyun’s expression— he’s bewildered, mouth slightly parted as he listens to your irritated words— “If we lose… seriously, will you stop looking at me like that?”

“If we lose…” he repeats slowly, and your frown only deepens in response, “You said we.” 

“Yeah…?”

“You’re… coaching me?” 

“No, I’m getting front row seats and betting against you,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and smacking Taehyun’s bicep in annoyance, “Yes, I’m coaching you. Wouldn’t be here wasting my time if I wasn’t.”

The way Taehyun’s eyes are sparkling under the lights is slightly creepy— you don’t think you’ve even seen such a genuine expression on him before, and you can only take a step back in uncertainty as Taehyun smiles at you; a genuine, soft smile. 

“Right, it’s just…” he pauses, clearing his throat before he’s reaching towards you to return the hit you gave him moments ago— though it’s a bit stiff, and you’re raising a brow at the action as you watch Taehyun carefully, “Haven’t had a coach in a while.”

Oh.

You’re sure the thought shows on your face, the reminder of Taehyun’s past life coming back to the forefront of your mind with a slight pang of guilt— though Taehyun doesn’t let you dwell on it, making fun of your face and prodding at you with enough annoying comments that you have to meditating to not slap the shit out of him. 

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll beat you before your match even starts,” you hiss, your threat enough of an incentive to get him off your back, “Yoongi and Sooyoung are coming as well. We’ll wait for them before we go in.”

“Are they really?” Taehyun asks, and you simply nod in response— the thought of Sooyoung watching him fight wasn’t exactly pleasant, and he finds himself thinking back to the nickname you gave her in the ring, “Joy… what an odd name. Did you ever get a title back here? I don’t think you ever mentioned it.”

“Because I didn’t have one,” you huff, rolling your eyes at the way he seems surprised by that, “My name was enough intimidation for them.”

Wowww, Taehyun cooed, the patronizing gesture enough to have you reaching to smack him on instinct— though it seems as though your move was too predictable for him, flinching out of the way with ease and continuing to send you that stupid smug smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued to try and provoke you. 

“If you two are done with this weird tension, we’d like to go in now,” the look Yoongi sends you is enough to have your face heating up with embarrassment, unsure of what he might mean with his words as you shake your head in annoyance— grabbing Taehyun’s elbow, you lead him down the steps, watching as Yoongi and Sooyoung follow behind with teasing eyes. 

“Yoongi, did you have to bring your men along? It’s already crowded enough in there as it is,” you groan, your head beginning to ache at the sight of the packed club— Yoongi simply scoffs, telling you better safe than sorry as he gestures for the two of you to go inside. 

“Go find Minho,” Yoongi nudges you, and you nod firmly at his words, “Make sure to let him know we are also here.”

If you insist, you mumble, ready to go off before you feel Sooyoung grab onto your elbow, tugging you back to get your attention— the moment your eyes meet, she sends you a bright smile, pairing it with a thumbs up as she squeezes your arm in reassurance.

“You got this!” She says, letting you go and watching as you weave through the crowd with Taehyun in tow. 

“You think we’ll win?” Yoongi mutters in Sooyoung’s ear, watching the way her smile tenses a bit. 

“I prayed a little yesterday.”

⊹⊹⊹

“…from what I remember, he’s very straightforward; very serious— spends a good couple of minutes gauging what kind of fighter you are before he strikes. I need you to be careful during this match, okay? Fight with your brain, not just your fists.”

You’ve been talking Taehyun’s ear off for an impressively long time. Taehyun didn’t think it was possible to see you like this, restless and fidgety as you followed him into the locker to give him a pep talk. There was ten minutes left before the fight.

“Relax, I got this,” Taehyun says, and he’s greeted with an unamused look of yours in return, “I didn’t watch you and Joy beat the hell out of each other for nothing, you know.”

The mention of your matches with Sooyoung is enough to have you cringing; while it was good for Taehyun to get a grasp of what you and Yoongi might’ve taught Jongseong and vice-versa, it wasn’t as good to leave sore after each training day you spent with him.

“Can’t believe I did that,” you mutter to yourself, leaning against the lockers behind you in dismay. Though by the way you can hear Taehyun laugh at you mockingly, you know he picked up on it as well. 

“You care more than you let on, noona,” he smiles, your eye twitching at the name; you have yet to get used to this sudden formality, and Taehyun is clearly taking advantage of it, judging by the way his smile only widens with your every reaction. 

“Noona?” The source of the voice is from someone you’d never forget; both you and Taehyun are looking over at the entrance in an instant, and you can feel your eyes widen as you take in the way Jongseong stands there, much more grown than the last time you saw him. 

“Oh. Hi,” you grit out awkwardly, cringing at how tense you sound.

“Hi? Is that all you have to say?” He asks, walking toward you without hesitation; his hair is black and slicked back neatly, a stark contrast to the messy brown hair he could never bother to style when he was younger, “it’s been three years, you disappeared without a trace!”

You’re not sure what he’s going to do as he approaches you in a hurry— hug you, maybe— because he pauses, taking in the sight of Taehyun sitting in front of you, his eyes narrowing as he takes a moment to take the man in.

“You’re…” he pauses, brows furrowing as he goes deep in thought for a second, “Taehyun.”

Taehyun’s name falls from his lips with pure disdain; Jongseong is looking between you and him, his face dropping with disappointment as everything begins to click together in his mind.

“I was hoping Minho was lying,” Jongseong mutters, taking a step back from you as he meets your eyes; he no longer holds the same, wide and nostalgic gaze that greeted you when you first saw him. Instead, it’s cold and scathing, a reflection of the dangerous man you’re preparing Taehyun to face in the ring. 

“You’re coaching him, then?” He asks, and all you can do is nod as you take in the anger in his eyes, wondering what lies Minho has been feeding him to look at Taehyun with such hatred, “I see.”

He’s backing away from you. You feel as though you’re losing him all over again as you watch his eyes turn to you, filled with nothing but restless anger as he sends you a vicious smile. 

“Try not to lose another one, noona,” he says, feigning a pout as he takes in the way your jaw clenches at his words. His eyes flicker over to Taehyun, pleased to find that his jab seems to have affected him, as well, “Good luck. You’ll definitely need it.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, waving you off before he’s out of sight. It’s quiet, and you’re unsure of what to say now that it’s just the two of you. Sighing, you look back at Taehyun, only to see that his eyes were already on you. 

You gulp. 

Taehyun has never looked this angry; his jaw is clenched and his brows are furrowed as he leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs as he jerks his head side to side— the cracks of his neck have you wincing, though you don’t think he cares, his lips pressing together for a moment before he breaks out into a breathy laugh. 

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a smile spreading across his face, fangs dangerous as he bites his lip in a failed attempt to suppress it. 

“I can’t wait to fuck him up.”

⊹⊹⊹

The place is packed. 

It’s deafening as you make your way to the cage, Taehyun stuck to your side as the patrons make a path for you; you try not to tense at the feeling of Taehyun’s hand on your waist, pulling you in and keeping you away from the men that stare at you with a disgusting hunger. 

Their excitement is deafening. It makes your head pound and your concentration waver, jolting into Taehyun from the way people try to reach out for you— the call of your name by old regulars isn’t lost on you, but you try to grit your teeth and ignore it. 

“They’re here for you,” Taehyun muses quietly, leaning into you so you can hear him. You scoff, shaking your head as you finally reach the cage’s entrance; Jongseong is already inside, waiting.

“They’re here for you,” you say, watching as Taehyun unzips his jacket and hands it to you; he grins at that, and you’re scolding him to put in his mouthpiece so he can’t come up with a stupid comeback. 

“Go get ‘em tiger,” you grin, watching as Taehyun can only shake his head in amusement. Your eyes flicker back to where Jeongseong stands, chatting idly with his own coach— your expression turns grim at the sight of Minho giving him tips with a bright smile. 

Your hands are warm as you reach out to Taehyun; grabbing both sides of his face, cradling his jaw as you’re pulling him in towards you boldly— he’s slightly caught off guard by your action, eyes widening as he’s forced to remain silently and stare at you stupidly. 

“Light on your feet. Be calm. Preserve your energy,” you say to him, repeating all the tips you’ve given him through three curt sentences. He nods, and you nod along with him, slightly amused at the sight of him.

“You got this. I believe in you.”

You’re pushing him into the cage after that. 

The floor is scuffed and old. It’s nothing in comparison to Jin’s pristine cage, and Taehyun is finally beginning to take it all in as he looks out, the club packed and rowdy as he scans through the crowd; he spots Yoongi and Sooyoung, the two giving him a nod and a thumbs up the moment their eyes meet. 

“Tonight’s match looks quite interesting,” a voice booms out, and Taehyun looks over to the commentator’s table, able to recognize the two faces that beam back at him in excitement— Taemin and Kibum, if he remembers right. 

“Not only is it winner-takes-all, but we also seem to have a legend in our midst— if not, two,” Taemin’s smile is ear to ear as the crowd grows louder, and Taehyun is able to spot you shrinking slightly from the sudden attention. 

“The king and queen of FightX— sound familiar?” If the crowd’s reaction is any indication of their answer, then Taehyun would say yes. Kibum’s laugh echoes around the cage, and Taehyun feels overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“Not only that, but apparently she’s coaching this guy too!” Taemin and Kibum are off in their own world as they chatter, and Taehyun can’t help but wonder when the theatrics will end and the match will start. 

“Minho even seems to have stepped up for today— the best of the best, hmm?”

Minho is more than willing to indulge in all the fanfare; in the ring, Jongseong only rolls his eyes, clearly as impatient as Taehyun.

“Oooh, now now, we should probably stop,” Kibum grins, nudging Taemin playfully, “It looks like our fighters are getting restless.”

“Right, we should probably get on with it,” Taemin agrees, though the way they both continue to talk says otherwise, “This is what you all came to see, right?!”

More cheers. 

Taehyun has begun drowning everyone out at this point. Even when the referee steps inside and gestures for the two to come to him, he can’t bring himself to listen. Instead, he focuses, his eyes never straying from the man before him.

The Cobra seems to be just as concentrated as him. His gaze is dangerous and he’s restless as he shifts in front of Taehyun, lips twitching into a smile as the referee asks them to be courteous, to touch gloves. 

Neither of them move. 

Three rounds, he hears the referee remind them— then he’s stepping back, gauging their reactions before the loud bell rings out, signaling that the fight has begun. 

Jongseong moves immediately— but he doesn’t strike, and Taehyun’s eyes narrow at the way he remains in a low stance, swaying slightly as he remains on guard; his constant movement makes it difficult for Taehyun to hit him, and he’s left unamused at the way Jongseong seems to taunt and bluff with a mocking smile. 

He throws out meaningless jabs, not bothering to hit him properly as he continues to grin and mess around. This behavior is a strong contrast to the characteristics you warned him of; He keeps his fists close to his face, a complete opposite of Jongseong, who’s body remains relaxed.

Usually, Taehyun would see this as a weakness; he’s left unguarded, goading the audience that only seems to yell at Taehyun to do something— to take the bait. If anything, the way Jongseong smiles through his mouthpiece is enough to remind him of Sooyoung; confident, skilled, quick and agile enough that he can afford to keep his body open as a bluff. 

Taehyun throws a left hook as a test. Immediately, Jongseong is jumping back, dodging it and putting his hands up with such speed that Taehyun could’ve missed it if he blinked. Jongseong’s eyes narrow, and it seems as though he’s realized that Taehyun has caught on to his show tactics.

There’s no room to play around anymore. Jongseong seems to have thrown out any tactics to bait Taehyun, choosing to throw punch after punch instead, a slight form of bait on its own.

Taehyun could fight back. He could retaliate to the blows on his forearms and sides, could try to land a few kicks on the man before him and try to injure him. But he would also waste all his energy in the first round, potentially leaving him vulnerable to The Cobra’s attacks in later rounds. It’s clear that’s what he wants— Taehyun throws a punch here and there to make it seem as though he’s falling into the trap, but your words to preserve his energy ring out in his head all the while. 

The action to remain on defense makes Taehyun look like a coward. But he doesn’t really mind, especially with the way Jongseong grows cocky, a confident smile broad on his face as he lets his guard down slightly, laughing along to the scathing comments the audience throws at him. 

His rear hand falters for a second. And in that second, Taehyun is able to deliver a right hook, his padded fist colliding with Jongseong’s jaw and sending him stumbling off, the people roaring and drowning out the sound of the commentator’s ramblings. 

One minute on the clock, will he be able to get another hit in?! Taehyun is effortless to drown out Kibum’s cries, stepping back the moment Jeongseong is back on his feet— for a moment, the two circle each other, and Taehyun can see the way his opponent’s eyes scan him, mind rapidly thinking of a way to counter his most recent blow. 

Kibum is audibly disappointed at the sound of the first round ending. How uneventful, he mourns, and Taehyun is happy to see that you’ve made it into the cage, Minho trailing behind you as you both get a minute to talk. 

“Fuck, good job, that was a good hit,” you immediately say, grabbing Taehyun’s wrist and dragging him to your corner. His mouth is sore as he takes his mouthpiece out, taking slow drinks of the water bottle you hand him as he listens to you.

“He’s a lot more different now. Still agile, but it looks like he likes playing with his food now,” you say, wiping off the sweet that’s gathered on Taehyun’s skin gently; he feels oddly tense at the action, your tender gesture making his heart beat a little faster as he wonders instead if he’s finally beginning to get nervous from the match.

“He definitely knows you’re not one to play with now, but it’s still good to feed into it sometimes,” you pause, your hand stilling on his chest, the thin towel the only barrier between you as you look up at him sternly, “I know I said to preserve more energy, but get more hits out. He has really good stamina.”

Taehyun tries to sear your words into his head as the referee calls for them to get ready for the next round, the two of you exchanging a reassuring look before you’re off.

Like last time, Jongseong doesn’t seem too keen on being friendly before the match. 

Taehyun takes your advice quite seriously— though Jongseong is also able to get more hits on him this way, his bottom lip cracking open after a particularly rough punch. Jongseong, Taehyun realizes, mostly fights with his upper body. He’s quick on his feet and dodges hits easily, but Taehyun has yet to be pinned down or hit with a kick— he tries to keep this knowledge to himself, the next five minutes uneventful as the round ends without any memorable hits.

Could it be that The Cobra has met his match? Taemin mused into the mic, grinning at the way the crowd only booed in response. Ignore that, you muttered in his ear, rolling your eyes at the way the two commentators were still just as annoying as you remembered. 

“He only punches,” Taehyun comments, his brows furrowing as he looks over to Jongseong’s corner, “No kicks, clinches, anything. It’s odd.” 

“Because he’s saving it for the last round,” you tell him, reaching up to brush the hair from his forehead— you’re serious, trying your best to hide the worry on your face as you warn him, “I’m telling you— he likes to play with his food. Be extra careful, I’m sure he’ll try pulling something new on you.”

The referee calls the break to an end. Pressing your lips together, and you’re nodding as you step back to leave. 

“Go all in now. Everything you got, now’s the time to use it.”

The way Minho laughs as you meet him at the cage entrance has you scoffing; Taehyun can see the older man talking to you, though he’s unable to try and see what he’s saying as the referee calls the fighters to the center.

“Last round,” he reminds, placing a hand on both their shoulders, “Clean, fair fight, okay?”

Jongseong nods— then, he reaches forward, offering his gloves to Taehyun. 

The slight twitch of his lips is mischievous. Slowly, Taehyun does the same; their gloves touch softly, the commentators quick to point it out as the match begins. 

Jeongseong throws a punch instantly. 

It’s like a switch has been flipped in his mind. His eyes are filled with eager bloodlust and alight with adrenaline, throwing hit after hit at Taehyun with no signs of stopping. All Taehyun can do is defend himself, unable to get an opening as he’s forced to take the blows Jongseong delivers.

Taehyun thinks he might have an opening the moment the man backs up, hands going down and leaving him unguarded for a second— but as Taehyun throws out a punch, he’s met with a harsh kick to his side, shocking him and knocking him off balance as Jongseong quickly uses it to his advantage. 

He’s disoriented with how quickly Jongseong wraps around him; limbs tangled, arms around his neck in such a strong chokehold that Taehyun can already feel his head pounding. Is he gonna tap out? He can hear the commentators asking, forcing him to grit his teeth and throw punches at Jeongseong’s head and sides in an attempt to throw him off. 

It seems to work; he’s somehow landed a punch directly to his nose, and the man behind him is stunted by the blow, his hold faltering and giving Taehyun the opening he needed to escape. 

Quick to get up, Taehyun slowly catches his breath. Two minutes on the clock! He hears them yell. Jongseong has yet to get up, the blood dripping from his nose making his eyes widen in shock, watching as he struggles to stumble to his feet, still disoriented from the blow. 

Jongseong’s eyes meet Taehyun’s; he’s tired, a panting mess and reflection of him as he slowly makes his way to Taehyun, stumbling slightly and heavy on his feet as he winces— an easy finish. For a second, Taehyun can feel himself relax, the tension in his body releasing as he watches Jongseong carefully. 

Jongseong takes in Taehyun’s shift instantly— Taehyun is jumping back before he can process it, eyes widening at the way Jongseong aimed a right hook for him, the swing of his arm ripping through the air as he stumbles slightly from the lack of impact. 

Then, he’s knocked back.

Taehyun can barely process the way his body moved with such acute precision, spinning and twisting just as you taught him as he lands with no problem, the feeling of him colliding right into Jongseong oddly instinctual; he watches as the man jolts from the impact, his body stiffening and his eyes rolling back as he can only fall from the impact to his body— to his head. 

The sound of his body colliding against the floor is loud, Jongseong’s face blank as he simply lays there, eyelids flickering and mind swimming in and out of consciousness as the referee runs to him. 

After a moment, the winner is declared. 

Taehyun is unable to process anything— the sounds of the audience roaring, the feeling of his arm being thrust into the air, the sight of Jongseong lying on the ground still— he doesn’t process anything, eyes drifting around and looking for one thing like habit. 

There you are, face alight with joy as you cheer furiously. 

Taehyun laughs slightly— it’s a bit pained, and he winces at the feeling of his sore body, the referee finally letting go of his hand as he stumbles out towards the exit, and straight towards you, pulling his mouth guard out with a wince.

“You did it!” You grin, your voice clear as day, even through the bewildered chatter of the rest as you wave him over. “Fuck, you really did it!”

Taehyun thinks you might hit him again, like you always do; instead, he feels you grab his face, your own alight with euphoria as you tug him into you and crash your lips against his— he barely has enough time to process things before you’re pulling away, your expression sobering as you take in what you just did. 

“Hey!” Yoongi calls out, attempting to weave through the crowd as you turn around to the source of the distraction, “Find Minho, make sure he doesn’t try to slip away!” 

“Right,” you respond, turning back to look at Taehyun— he’s left frozen and bewildered as he looks at you, mouth slightly agape as you feel a heat rush to your face. 

He attempts to call after you, but you’re slipping away before he can get you to stay.

He can still feel the ghost of your lips against his.

⊹⊹⊹

“You guys are insane,” Beomgyu huffs, laying back in his bed with a slight wince, “My mother would be mortified if she found out what you did to get this money.”

“It’s a shame we had to get it at all,” you say, glaring at Beomgyu and watching as he shrinks under your gaze, muttering a quiet sorry, sorry in response. Sighing, you shake your head, taking in Beomgyu’s condition with a smile, “you know, after all these expenses, I think we might just have a bit left over.”

“We could go on a trip,” Beomgyu says without hesitation, and you shake your head in amusement. 

“Focus on getting better first,” you scold, smiling at the way Beomgyu lets out a yes ma’am! In response, “I need to go. Visiting hours are over.”

“I’m supposed to get discharged in two days, don’t forget me!” He calls out, and you choose to ignore it as you exit, stopping in your tracks as you close the door behind you softly.

The last thing you expected was to see Taehyun waiting for you, patched up and changed as he leaned against the wall.

“Hey,” you smile, albeit a bit awkward— he says nothing, and you clear your throat, nodding back to the room behind you nervously, “Visiting hours are over. Uhm, maybe come back tomorrow?”

“I’m not here to see him,” he says, raising a brow at the way you only send him a confused look, “I’m here to see you.”

“And what could you possibly want from me?” Your steps are brisk as you begin to walk back to the exit; Taehyun is just as quick behind you, trying to get your attention to no avail.

“What do you mean what could I possibly want? You’re not one to act stupid, noona,” he says, hot on your trail as you finally make it outside. 

You know he’s right— and yet, you feel terribly awkward about it, refusing to look back at him as you begin to wonder where you could have parked, wandering around the quiet lot— you’re a few feet away from your car when Taehyun grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks and turning you around harshly, his eyes angry as he looks at you.

“You kissed me.”

“What?” You say, trying to shake his hold off as you look up at him with shining, innocent eyes, your right one twitching for a second, “What is this, some kind of adrenaline-induced hallucination? Don’t be weird.”

“Hallucination—” he’s in disbelief as he begins cornering you, your back pressing flat against the driver’s door as he practically towers over you, his free hand planted by your head and caging you in, “The way you felt against me felt very real.”

You gulp. This was weird— this was new, something that you definitely had not accounted for, because as you stare at Taehyun, his gaze intense and his face inches away from yours, you can’t help but feel your face heat up. 

“It’s— it meant nothing,” you stutter out, heart pounding at the way he very clearly doesn’t believe you, “I wasn’t even thinking, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It meant nothing?” He whispers, his voice low and breathy as he leans in even closer; your eyes are shutting from how close he is, able to feel his breath fan across your cheeks as he lets out a soft laugh, “If it meant nothing, then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been—”

“I don’t appreciate you lying to me, noona.”

You’re silent. Your breaths are shaky, lips parted as you wait for him to say something. 

After a second, his lips press against yours. 

For a second, it’s gentle; unsure, waiting for you to pull away and tell him to leave you alone— instead, you let out a breathy sigh, your lips beginning to move against his.

The moment you reciprocate is the moment he loses control. His hands are coming up to your face, cupping your jaw tenderly and tilting your head up to him, his lips needy and messy as he pries your mouth open, tongue prodding at your mouth before he’s pulling away to sink his teeth into your soft lips— the pained whine you let out has his mind reeling. 

You’re breathless and dazed by the time he finally pulls away— you think you can feel your knees go weak at the sight of a string of saliva connecting between the two of you, watching as he smiles at you cruelly, his gaze dark and hazed as his thumb runs across your bottom lip fondly.

“I won just for you,” he breathes out, eyes darkening from the way your tongue runs across the pad of his finger mindlessly.

“Don’t you think I deserve a reward for working so hard?”

⊹⊹⊹

Taehyun’s apartment is nice— well, at least you think. You didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at it. 

However, you can confidently say that his bed is nice— you practically sink into the soft mattress, the once neatly done sheets beneath you now a mess from the way you’re squirming under Taehyun.

All he’s done is kiss you— yet, you feel so terribly fucked out and needy, unable to keep your hands off him for even a second, your fingers weaved into his hair and tugging as you feel him moan into your mouth. 

“Even now you’re so fucking mean,” he hisses, feeling the way your nails rake down his back; leaving a red trail against his skin, his shirt discarded long ago as he currently worked to get you to do the same. “Shit, I just got out of a match, noona.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you pant, and Taehyun frowns above you as you begin to pull away, “poor baby is too hurt to fuck—”

“I didn’t say that,” he groans, and you’re surprised by the way he takes a hold of your shoulders and pushes you back down into the mattress firmly. He takes this moment to tug your shirt up, throwing it in some random direction before he’s smiling at the sight of you, “Fuck, you have such a smart mouth.”

“Guess it rubbed off,” you say, your words wavering pathetically mid-way, all from the feeling of Taehyun biting and sucking at your neck ruthlessly while his hands came up to feel your breasts, slipping under the fabric and circling your nipples teasingly. 

“Yeah? I taught you that?” He asks, nipping at your skin and taking off your bra with swift hands, “Maybe I should teach you how to be good for me then.”

You’re unable to gather your thoughts and bite back— his mouth is sucking at your nipples messily, tongue making a show of it as he groans at the feeling and traces shapes on your skin, too focused on the messy teasing to notice the moment his hand slips past your waistband and cups your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet for me noona,” he sighs, middle finger running up and down your slit teasingly, feeling the way you practically soak through your panties, “This wet for me already?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you grumble, mouth falling open at the way he begins prodding your entrance teasingly, pushing into your hole then going to circle your clit slowly over the fabric. 

Taehyun laughs. The way you refuse to submit to him isn’t surprising in the slightest, watching as you refuse to give him reactions with dark eyes, trained carefully onto your face as he feels you get wetter from his motions, taking in what works and what doesn’t simply from the way your face reacts— even if you try to hide it, much to his annoyance. 

“What’s wrong noona? Don’t you feel good?” He asks you quietly, his hands already dragging your pants off agonizingly slowly, biting his lip to suppress the smile that threatens to break through, far too amused by this strong front you seem to put up, “I’ll do better then, don’t worry.”

Taehyun is sinking down to his stomach before you can process anything, hands running along your thighs teasingly before they’re hooking under your knees— lifting them up, pressing them against your stomach, able to look down at your glistening pussy with ease. 

You’re scrambling to hold on to something the moment he gets his mouth on you— he’s pressing you into the mattress, willing to control the way your hips jump as he presses his tongue flat against your slit, drinking up your wetness and teasing the tip of his tongue along your fluttering hole. The moans you let out are pathetic and embarrassing, your face heating up as you begin to squirm the moment Taehyun wraps his lips around your clit, face buried in your pussy and hair soft tickling against your thighs as he eats you out. 

The sounds are enough to make you cover your face— Taehyun is shameless as he eats you out, slurping and sucking and moaning against your cunt loudly— it’s almost as though he were doing it on purpose. 

“Taehyun, Taehyun, fuuuck…!” You can’t control your mouth— the sound of his name coming from your lips is enough to make Taehyun moan more against your pussy, cock rutting into the mattress below him as he listens to the sounds you make intently, smiling against your cunt at the sight of you finally breaking under him.

You feel dizzy— the way Taehyun fucks you with his tongue has you whining stupidly, his hand leaving your leg and coming to circle your clit as he continues to fuck you— after a moment, he decides he’s had enough of your squirming under him, his hands reaching to cup your ass before he’s pulling you back into him; your legs are falling over his shoulders, and his face is pressed against your pussy as he grants you no escape.

His grip is bruising on your skin; your thighs close around his head, but he pays no mind to it as he continues to lick at your pussy, gathering your arousal on his tongue before he’s looking back up at you with innocent round eyes, showing it off to you and forcing you to watch as he lets it drip back onto your cunt. 

It’s all so messy and overwhelming; you don’t even register the moment you cum on his tongue, your mind going blank and your body relaxing under his hold as he lets you ride out your orgasm, his tongue eager to lick up your release as he lets out soft hums against your cunt. 

“Taehyun,” you whimper out weakly, fingers weaving into his hair and tugging at it in order to get him to stop his ministrations— you can hear him complaining to you softly as he refuses to give in, the soft whine of his name only making him want to give you another orgasm— you have to tug harder on his hair to pull him from you, his lips and chin shining with your arousal as he smiles coyly at your reaction; his tongue darts out to lick his lips, wiping at his chin before he’s coming back up to hover over you. 

“What happened baby? Just wanted to make you feel good,” He tuts softly, grinning at the way you struggle to come down from your bliss. You don’t seem to realize the moment he’s become completely bare, the feeling of his cock poking at your inner thighs making your snap back to reality, feeling the tip smudge his precum all over your skin as he leans down to kiss you; it’s slow and messy, and he’s eager to push you lips apart and allow you to taste yourself, cradling your jaw as you feel him smile against your lips.  

“Why don’t you be quiet for a second? I like you more that way.” the way he frowns at your words has you breaking out into a teasing smile, running your fingers through his hair as you laugh softly— though it quickly falters the moment you feel him rubbing against your slit, his tip running up and down and catching on your clit as your body jolts from the sensation.

“Noona, do you hate me?” He pouts at you, watching as you fail to formulate proper words from the way his tip prods at your entrance, teasingly beginning to stretch you before he pulls out. This continues for a moment, and it’s clear he’s waiting for a response you clearly refuse to give him; frowning, he continues his motions, slowly rutting against your pussy as he looks down at you with sharp eyes, watching as you whine at him to stop teasing— he shakes his head, telling you to answer him, his voice sharp and low as he tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that has you stuttering your response out weakly.

“N—no.”

“Then why are you so mean to me?” He continues, tilting his head as he finally pushes the tip in; he watches your expression carefully, drinking up the way your brows furrow and your eyes become glossy. 

“I… your reactions are cute,” you admit, clenching around Taehyun tightly and watching the way he hisses at the feeling. 

“Yeah? They’re cute?” He repeats, straightening up and kneeling as he looks down at you. Your fucked out expression could make Taehyun come on the spot, but instead he grabs a hold of your waist, settling in between your legs and pulling you in close to him. 

He’s inside you with one swift push; the yelp you let out is embarrassing and you’re quickly slapping a hand over your mouth, eyes fluttering at the sensation of Taehyun fully inside you, thick and twitching wildly. Taehyun takes your hand away immediately; his fingers are lacing with yours, and he’s smiling sweetly as he looks down at you. 

“I think your reactions are cute too,” he’s moving after that, his thrusts slow and deep as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You’re holding tightly onto him as moans and whines fall from you, the sounds only fueling Taehyun further as he slowly begins to fuck you faster. 

“Feels nice, noona?” He groans, eyes trained on the way your tits bounce with his every thrust. The way you refuse to admit to him how good he’s making you feel has him rolling his eyes, letting go of your hand and gripping your hips before he’s bringing you back into him, bottoming out and rolling his hips slowly into your cunt as he feels the way you tighten around him, his cock taking in every flutter of your walls around him as he lets out pleased sighs. 

“What, too embarrassed to admit that it’s me making you feel good?” He asks, biting his lip as he concentrates on not coming too soon from the way you squeeze him, “You didn’t seem embarrassed when you kissed me in front of all those people earlier.”

“It was in the heat of the moment…” you answer back pitifully, unable to hide the way you can barely speak from the way he fucks you. 

“Hmm, okay. If you say so,” he hums, and you’re not given room to fight back as he goes back to fucking you— careless, pulling you back into him, enjoying your sounds with a wicked smile, unable to take his eyes off you for a moment. 

The moment his hand slips to rub circles on your clit, you feel your mind go blank— the sounds you make has Taehyun cursing under his breath, the feeling of your walls clenching around him and sucking him in driving him mad as he gets a hold of your thighs, pressing them against your body and putting you into a mating press as he continues to fuck you.

“Tae— Taehyun, ah, please,” you whine out, left defenseless to the way his hips slam against yours, losing his pace and letting out soft groans as he feels himself coming at the sound of your whines of his name— his cum is barely able to stay inside with the way he continues fucking you, cock rutting into your sensitive pussy as you whine at him to slow down. 

“Wanna see you do that again,” he mumbles, eyes flicking up to gauge your expression, “Like, a few more times.”

Your pussy tightens around him in response, and he has to bite his lip to suppress the moan that bubbled up his throat. After a second, he’s slowly fucking you again, feeling his cock harden inside you from the sight of his cum escaping you with every thrust.

You don’t know how many times he makes you cum after that— you might’ve blacked out halfway through, Taehyun’s obsession with making you come undone leaving you filled with cum and undeniably sore— he’s insatiable, leaving you a mess under him as you let him use you how he’d like, manhandling you into all sorts of positions as he continues to groan about how good you feel, reassuring you just one more, with your every whine, yet lying each time. 

You’re only able to think straight once you’ve found yourself pulled into Taehyun’s chest— the rise and fall of your bodies is relaxing, and you don’t even remember Taehyun cleaning the both of you up as you lie under his covers, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you very much welcomed. 

“So, did this also mean nothing to you?” Taehyun mumbles into the crown of your head, nuzzling into your scent as he struggles to stay awake. 

“No. This definitely meant something,” you say, equally as tired as you burrow further into the warmth of his chest. You can hear the deep rumble of his chuckles above you, his hands running across your back soothingly as he speaks. 

“And what did it mean?”

A pause. You think you both know what it means, but you won’t give him the satisfaction as you nip at his skin teasingly. 

“Means you’re okay, I guess.”

You refuse to admit that Taehyun has you wrapped around his finger— though it’s definitely reciprocated by the way Taehyun laughs at your comment, pulling you in even closer still and cooing jokingly that you looove me, hmm?

God, even now, he was insufferable.

But you kinda liked that about him. 

[jeonggukookies]

too young | eight

summary: jungkook proves to everyone that he cares about you and his daughter, jules the most. 

word count: 3,083

genre:  parent!au, single dad!jungkook fluff

one || two || three || four || five || six || seven || eight 

“Do you know what time Jungkook is getting here?” Jules asked, sitting down on one of the office chairs. Without any hesitation, she undid her braid quickly and started messing up her hair. “Or is someone else supposed to take me?”

“Didn’t lunch just start for you?” You looked at the clock behind you, the long black minute hand just reaching the same place as the short hour mark. “I’m sure he will be here soon.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot,” she mumbled under her breath.

“He’s coming,” you assured Jules. “Be patient.”

“But are you sure he’s coming?” Unlike the first time you met Jules, she looked at you with a look of confusion on her face. She was clenching the white straps of her purple backpack as if she was afraid to lose the bag. Jules had been in your office for at least five minutes, asking every thirty seconds to ask if her guardian was here. “What if he forgot, again?”

“He didn’t forget.” It used to be normal for Jungkook to be late whether that be ten minutes or an hour and a half. You remember how nonchalant and unimpressed Jules used to be when you told her one of her uncles was on her way instead of her guardian. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“Because I want this stupid thing off now!” She gestured to the black ankle brace. It had been a month since the hospital visit and Jules had been counting the days she could go back on the field to play soccer. She reached to take one of the velcro straps off on her brace. “Do you know how annoying this has been?”

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “You know you aren’t allowed to take it off before your appointment. The doctor needs to make sure it has healed correctly and everything. Then, the doctor will take it off for you.”

“By the time he gets here, the doctor’s office will be closed until next year,” she pouted, placing her hands back onto the backpack straps. “Why can’t Uncle Tae get me? Why can’t you take me to the doctor?”

“Because I’m at school,” you deadpanned. “And I want to be here.”

“I do too. You can just take me,” she whined.

“No, I can’t.” You couldn’t help to roll your eyes. "Because Jungkook is coming.”

“Yeah, right.” Jules threw back her head in frustration and groaned loudly. “Then where is he?”

“Right behind you,” Jungkook said, appearing with a smile on his face. “Are you ready, Kiddo?”

Without saying a word, Jules got up on her two feet and rolled her eyes. Still holding onto the straps of her bag tightly, she first looked out of the office, staring at the kids in the cafeteria as if she were searching for someone specific. She then in a haste left the office, stomping her feet on the ground, making her footsteps heard through the entire building.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her with an attitude.” You and Jungkook both looked at each other, realizing you guys both said the same thing at the same time.

“Did something happen between you guys this morning?” You asked. “Was she like this before school?”

“She seemed fine this morning when I dropped her off at school,” he replied, crunching his eyebrows together. “She was super excited for her appointment today, so maybe her excitement just turned into anger...Right? Kids and their emotions these days.”

But even before, on the days when Jungkook told Jules that he would pick her up and he still didn’t show, Jules never showed any sign of any anger or displeasure. She stayed patient, understanding that even if Jungkook didn’t come, she would always see him at home.

“Why did she think you weren’t going to show up though?”

Before he could say anything, Jungkook’s phone started going off, ringing so loudly that he jumped a bit. He reached into his right beige trenchcoat pocket and pulled out his phone, showing you the screen: Jules was calling.

“Did she say anything to you earlier?” He asked.

“Just that she wanted her brace off,” you confirmed his suspicions. “Maybe it’s nothing, and we’re just thinking too hard about it.”

_________

It was not nothing.

It was definitely something.

Something was off.

Ever since her doctor’s appointment, Jules has tried to convince Jungkook that she was sick and could not go to school. He allowed it for the first day and the second day, but when she asked for a third and then a fourth, he started to think something was going on. Every time Jungkook asked about school, Jules stayed quiet, saying nothing, yet it was louder than what could have been said. During the last week you had seen her, she would always change the subject whenever school was brought up and would ask you to convince Jungkook to not let her go.

“Have you heard anything from school? Teachers? Students?” Jungkook asked over the phone. It had been a week since she got her brace off, and he was worried. He had kept calling you every day during this time always to ask if you had heard anything about Jules and her change in behavior.  “Why doesn’t she want to go to school?”

“Jungkook, no kid really wants to go to school,” you guessed, scratching the back of your neck. “She’s a kid. Maybe, the only thing on her mind is soccer and she wasn’t able to do that for a while.”

“Yeah but Jules never had a problem in school and always enjoyed learning,” he replied. “I just don’t get why she’s avoiding school like it's the plague.”

Sighing, you think about the last time Jules had been in your office and how she was so agitated, maybe even apprehensive about whether or not Jungkook was going to arrive and take her to her appointment. “Well, the last time she was in my office, she told me she had wanted to be at school.”

“Really?”

You winced. “I mean, I said that I couldn’t take her to the appointment because I wanted to stay at school, and she agreed before asking if you were going to pick her up?”

“Wait, she asked you that?” Jungkook was taken aback, sounding like he was offended by what you said. “Why would she think that?”

“Have you been picking her up?” You questioned. “The boys haven’t been picking her up?

“I have been picking her up from school every day,” he answered back. “I haven’t been really late either. But you know how it is with every parent wanting to pick up their kid. The line is so long so I am always going to be the last one there just because I can’t get out of work earlier.”

“Really?” Usually five minutes after class ends, Jules would always come to your office and make herself at home. “I thought you'd been picking her up earlier because she hasn’t come by to my office to see me this week or last week at all.”

“Not even for lunch?” He asked.

“Nope.”

“Are we just being pushy?” Despite not having a face-to-face conversation, you could tell Jungkook was disheartened, thinking what he could have done wrong to upset Jules, for her to act this way. “Maybe she wanted to do something different.”

“That can be true,” you reluctantly answered, releasing a slow sigh. “But let’s think about it, Kook. She’s never lied to you before, especially about this kind of stuff.”

“And she tells you everything too.” His voice trails off into silence. “Does she usually have lunch with you today?”

You answered, “On Fridays at 12 usually.”

“But it’s 1:45,” he replied slowly. “Did she not eat today?”

Your head snapped to the clock hanging on the wall. The time was indeed past the time you usually saw Jules. “I must have lost track of the time. But I had been in my office all day, so I don’t know why she didn’t come in. She comes sometimes and eats in silence if she sees me working.”

“Something is wrong.”

“Hey, I gotta go.” A staff member from the fifth-grade department had knocked on your door. She was hired around the same time you were, letting the two of you quickly bond over a new school environment earlier in the school year. “I’ll see you later for dinner tonight.”

“Hey, Y/N. I think you should look at this.” The staff member took a pause, looking frightened. “It’s…about Jules.”

“Jules? Is she okay?” You asked with urgency. “Jules as in Seo Jules?”

She nodded and gestured for you to follow her into the fifth-grade wing. Taking a left, the two of you entered the bathroom. Without saying a word, she pointed to the middle stall.

Giving her a look of confusion, she pointed down, making you look. There in the stall, you could see a small girl sitting on the toilet, not using the bathroom, and had her legs stretched in front of her, so her feet wouldn’t be shown on the ground. You could recognize those shoes from anywhere: the light-up tennis shoes that Jin bought for Jules that she loved to brag about.

“What is she doing here?” You whispered. “Are you sure it's Seo Jules?”

Jules was 7 and her classroom was on the other side of the building, opposite the fifth-grade wing. At this time, you knew she should have been in class, learning how to spell words, long words that she didn’t know how even to pronounce.

“Hey Jules? Are you feeling okay?” Your colleague called out.

“Um..Yeah.” You heard Jules's voice come through the stall. “Is school almost over?”

“Yeah, do you want to open the door for me?”

Getting off the toilet seat, Jules unlocked the handle and opened the door. She didn’t expect to see you standing there in front of her. She was wearing an oversized grey hoodie that you’ve never seen her wear and some fake black glasses, way too big for her round small face. Avoiding making any eye contact with you, she looked down. “Are you going to tell Jungkook?”

You looked at your colleague, and she understood that it was her cue to leave the two of you alone to have a private conversation. “Do you want me to?”

“Obviously not,” she mumbled under her breath, still staring down at the ground. “I forgot to do my homework, Miss. I didn’t want to get in trouble in front of everyone.”

“Is there something wrong, Jules?” You asked with concern in your voice. “Is that really the reason why?”

“Yes,” she answered quickly. “Please don’t tell Jungkook this time.”

________

“Seo Jules, please come to the front office,” you announced to the microphone of the PA system.

When it happens a second time, you immediately call Jungkook.

The sounds of ringing phones and tapping keyboards filled the air, but Jungkook’s mind was elsewhere. He was sitting in front of your desk, violently shaking his leg with the look of concern on his face. “Is Jules hurt?”

“Jungkook, Jules was found in the library, hiding by the bookshelves during most of her classes today and she was just found there becaus she hadn’t showed up to soccer practice since she got her brace off.”

“What?” He asked in disbelief.

“Hey,” Jules called out as she stood by the door. “Why are you here?”

Jungkook took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool after hearing Jules ask that question. He didn’t want Jules to ever be scare to tell him the truth, and he didn’t want Jules to ever lie to him about something as important as this. “Do you want to tell me why the school informed me that you were hiding in the library? How you haven’t been attending some certain classes?”

“You told him?” Jules dropped her shoulders, feeling betrayed. “Why would you do that?”

“We need to address the issue going on here,” Jungkook said, his tone disapproving.

“There’s no issue,” Jules protested. “I just got a little lost. It happens sometimes.”

“Jules, you were found around the bean bags, reading books,” He pointed out. “I don’t think you were lost. And this isn’t the first time this has happened and I’m only now being aware of it. What if you were really lost? What if the school couldn’t find you? What if I couldn’t find you?”

“It’s not like that!” Jules sighed, looking down. “You won’t lose me.”

“Sweetheart, we know you haven’t been going to soccer practice either,” you said. Jules’s head shot up to look at you. “If there’s something wrong, you need to tell us now.”

Jules sighed, fidgeting with her fingers. “Everyone says I get special treatment because Jungkook is dating my principal.”

Jungkook’s heart sank along with yours. “What is wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” She paused before continuing. “I don’t know. They just think the teachers favor me over them because of Y/N and how we have money to pay them to like me. They just wouldn’t stop, so I just stopped…I rather be by myself than be with mean people.”

Although the most recent break up with Jungkook didn’t make you cry, the realization that Jules was facing remarks at school due to your relationship with Jungkook did. You remember telling Jungkook from the beginning that you strived to create a safe environment for all students, wanting to shape their growth and education. You never wanted them to feel alone like you did while growing up. Jules felt alone.

You had been aware of the potential challenges that could arise from dating a parent of a student but witnessing the treatment and suffering Jules was facing made you reconsider all your choices.

“It’s not your fault,” Jules reassured quickly, reading the expression on your face. “I love you two. I just..it’s just hard right now. I lost soccer for a bit and now I feel like I have nothing.”

“Sweetheart, you know you always have us and your family,” Jungkook reminded her. “Why didn’t you want to tell me? Or Y/N?”

“Because I don’t want you guys to be sad again. I don’t want Y/N to leave,” Jules answered, tears forming in her eyes.

As a reflex, Jungkook picked up Jules and wrapped his arms around her, making Jules feel like she was safe from everything else in the world.

“You can cry,” Jungkook whispered.

And Jules started bawling. “I just want to be unnoticed so I change my hair and clothes. And try not to come in here.”

“It’s okay.”

“And they keep talking about how young you are! ‘Wow he is too young to be a parent. He don’t know what to do.’” She wept. “Like shut up!”

_________

While Jungkook was putting Jules to bed, you couldn’t help but wrestle with the responsibility you played in Jules’s suffering the last few months by breaking up with Jungkook, leaving her, and now, not knowing she was being bullied at school.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Jungkook asked loudly, interrupting your thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

He laughed. “For what?”

“That I did this.”

“Stop.” He sighed, running his hair through his hair. “You supported Jules and countless other students! This is not your fault…Just an unanticipated consequence that can be solved.”

“Are we breaking up again?” You asked seriously, not meeting his eyes. “I never wanted this to happen to a student, let alone Jules.”

“Hey, listen to me.” He nudged at your side with his elbow, making you look at him. “The biggest thing I’ve learned from you is that we cannot control how others react, but how we react. Like you never really yelled at me for not picking up Jules. You were accepting and understanding because you knew there was more to learn.”

You nodded, appreciating Jungkook’s words. “But the last thing I want is for her to suffer.”

Still staring back at you, he reached to grab your hand. “Breaking up isn’t going to solve that, you know?”

“Yeah, but-” Jungkook cuts you off.

“Hey, you believed in me as a parent and as a person even when I was too young and too busy with a career,” Jungkook said, choosing his words carefully. “Our relationship has made me better. It has made Jules so happy since the accident. We were alone without you, struggling. And now with you, we have so much love and support.”

You smiled, squeezing Jungkook’s hand. “You gave me so much as well.”

His grip on your hand tightened. “Do you think I’m still ‘too young’ and ‘too dumb’ to be there for Jules and you?”

“Of course not!”

“Personal matters should not affect the well-being of children under their care, and you helped me realize that as a parent,” he said. “You don’t have to give anything up. You don’t have to give up your dream of maintaining a safe environment for kids, and you don’t have to give up on us. Take the risk.”

You’re reminded of your past conversation with Jungkook, still smiling from all that the two of you have learned and experienced. “I am going to talk to the school community about this.”

“I know you are,” Jungkook said. “I love you. I love Jules and we will get this together, one step and one day at a time.”

And when it was the next day, there was Jungkook, balloons in his right hand, leaning his back against his blue minivan in the parking lot, waiting for his child to come out of elementary school. He was hours early, shocking all the parents and teachers. They all wondered what he was doing.

When it was time for lunch, Jules came into your office, and the both of you looked outside the window and saw Jungkook, talking to himself. “Do you know what he is saying?”

“He isn’t saying anything.” She laughed. “He’s singing our favorite song. I just know it.”

He was right, that everything was a process that took day by day, and he was going to start by not letting Jules wait for him ever again.

_____

the end! thank you for reading <3 (i am terribly sorry for the long wait). 

hopefully one day i can rewrite this story and make it into something way better. so crazy to think i started this years ago. i miss bts and can’t wait for them to come back home <3 the best is yet to come :) 

[trivia-yandere]

trivia:yandere masterlist

alternate universe (masterlist) | halloween (masterlist)| valentine's day (masterlist) | kinktober (masterlist) |

main account:explicit-tae

all of the works here will contain: (either or/sometimes both) smut, yandere themes and overall dark content that are only suitable for those who are 18+. all of our work will have warnings - if anything is uncomfortable, please click off. it's understandable that sometimes what is written can be triggering to some user - this is the first warning. request are appreciated just please allow time for it to be posted. please do not translate, repost or use any content written from this blog without permission.

ot7 | multi-member

the one that got away: (Part 2) you should've listened when you were told to stay away from the dark web. completed (taehyung x reader x jimin)

lessons: when jungkook asks namjoon for advice on oral sex, he wasn't expecting his hyung to physically show him - you being on the receiving end of it. completed (jungkook x reader x namjoon)

study partner: an alternate world in which the elites rule the world and have everything at their fingertips. at a top elite college, “Study Partners” - the most desirable sexual partners around the world - are assigned to the top 10% of students with the highest grades. completed

jeon | jungkook

visions: you’re convinced by your friends to go to a party and let go of the memories of your ex just for one night. unfortunately for you, jungkook doesn’t want to be let go. completed

the other woman: jungkook decides it's time to take matters into his own hands and figure out how to get you - his sweet, innocent girlfriend, to fuck him. completed

paid in full: (part 1) (part 2) "all debts must be paid in full." says jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired.

nefarious: you knew who jungkook was prior to having his children and marrying him, so you serving him with divorce papers wasn't going to do anything but anger him. part one | prequel

test your morality: jungkook's morality is tested when he's woken from his unconscious state to find you - his best friend - bound before him. completed

best friends!: jungkook doesn't like the idea of you wanting to loose your virginity to anyone that isn't him. completed

seonbaenim!: (idol version of best friends!) your group decides they want to shed the “good girl” image for your next comeback & you confide in your seonbae, Jungkook, in helping you do so. One | Two

sibling rivalry: you visit your dad for a week for christmas and come face to face with your step-brother - who you've managed to avoid - again.

kim | taehyung

two sentence horror story: you ran up to the first person you saw -  a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded. completed

fertile: during an annual camping trip with your parents, you venture off deep into the woods and find a man chained to a tree. completed

park | jimin

two sentence horror story: years ago, your best friend, Jimin, and you made a pact that if one of you were single by the age of 26 that the two of you would just marry the other. completed

creep: park jimin had it all. he was loved throughout the world as an idol apart of one of the biggest groups. he had the popularity, respect and adoration - and a few haters; but what idol didn’t? what park jimin wasn’t expecting for was infamous blogger, Creep, to be reporting on him. completed

word is bond: in order to save your kingdom from perishing, you agree to give your body to the demon king - jimin. completed

bad decisions: you're getting married on valentine's day - but somehow, you allow a stripper to fuck you in front of your brides' maids and maid of honor. completed

kim | namjoon

lessons: when jungkook asks namjoon for advice on oral sex, he wasn't expecting his hyung to physically show him - you being on the receiving end of it. completed

with love, k.nj: ever since you and your mother moved into this new apartment, you began receiving notes from an "admirer", all signed with initials k.nj. completed

jung | hoseok

ain't no fun: ”Hoseok wouldn’t treat me like this.” is what had Namjoon laughing in your face - because you didn’t know Hoseok like he did. But he’d let you think you did, after all, it ain’t no fun if the homies can’t have none. coming soon...

min | yoongi

dilemma: being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected - especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. completed

kim | seokjin

two sentence horror story: it’s been nearly 5 years since you last saw seokjin. completed

payment plan: your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to your brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. completed

[fake-married-my-dead-fiance]

Okay so another nice thing about Lovely Runner, no ridiculously evil parents.

Sun-jae's dad is a bit too invested in his son's swimming career, but that's a pretty standard parent fault and he does get past it. Also, Sun-jae did enjoy swimming so it's not like he was forced. His father is shown as immensely proud of his son and happy to see his son happy.

Sol's mom is caring for a mother with dementia and a daughter in a wheelchair in the original timeline. No notes. She's a heroine.

Even Tae-sung's dad, who I believe is a single parent as well, he's flawed for sure but his main problem is probably that he doesn't have much time for Tae-sung since he has to work. And we do see him show up for moral support in the final episode. He's not some abusive villain, just someone who isn't providing what his son actually needs.

I mean it's a Kdrama so obviously half of the parents need to be dead, but I love that they were just regular parents with flaws who were trying their best.

[arcanealora]

OBSESSED

pairing : Taehyung x female reader

genre : smut, dark romance (?), stalker au

rating : 18+

warnings : explicit language, stalking, hidden cameras, self pleasurings, rough making out, smut smut smut!, dom! Tae, sub! reader, unprotected sex (this is fiction don't take any risks!), little dirty talks, fingering, over stimulation, countless orgasms, champagne confetti (squirting lol), d!ck riding, rough sex (because Taehyung goes out of control), Taehyung is your enemy (atleast he pretends to be).

"FUCK YOU!" you yell at the top of your lungs, fuming with rage. Taehyung grabs your arm and pulls you in a corner of the club, "Your house or mine?" the smug attitude not leaving his face while he leans in to whisper these words in your ears. You push him away and let out a scoff, "Go fuck the girls you were dancing with earlier." you look away not letting him guess the jealousy on your face. "Why are you behaving like you are my girlfriend?" Taehyung asks making you look at him. "Eww I would rather die than be your girlfriend," you make a disgusted face making him scoff. "Feelings are mutual," he speaks before leaving you alone at that corner and goes for a drink.

You and Taehyung met a year ago in this same club through mutual friends and the first meet itself was a disaster. You have punched his face thinking that he stalked you to the club and in return he threw a glass of wine on your brand new dress, you both have never been on good terms since then. Your close friend Jimin, who is also his best friend, always tried to spark a friendship between you two but it always ended in something worse.

Lately, he has been acting very differently. He flirts, acts weird when you get close with someone and you have a feeling that he stalks you everytime you leave the club. Last week, you threw a house warming party and also invited him as you decided to end the beef but somehow things didn't end well because he introduced himself as your boyfriend to your parents when you had already told them you are single. Not that you parents have any problem with you having a boyfriend, you are an adult and mature enough, but they thought you lied to them. Hence, you and Taehyung got into a heated argument when he confessed that he just wanted to take the revenge of that punch you gave him a year ago like he already didn't mess with you enough.

And now you are confused as hell with all his behaviours, sometimes he acts like a jerk and sometimes he behaves like he owns you. You hate to admit but you have a soft corner for him, he is totally your type.

You hang your purse on your shoulder and walk towards the exit until he stops you, "What now?" Instead of talking, he comes closer to you and stroke your cheeks lightly with his long fingers. "Are you this drunk to act so soft with me now?" you snort. "beautiful," he breaths, "you look beautiful." There he goes again. "Hey, are you really drunk?" you furrow your eyebrows.

He chuckles softly and stops stroking your cheeks. "Don't you....," he brings his fingers to your lips, lightly brushing his thumb against your lower lip, "don't you love how my fingers touch you?"

Your eyes widen for a moment, you take a deep breath to calm the sudden acceleartion in your heart beats before speaking, "you confuse me Taehyung."

"Do I?"

you nod lightly.

"I am sorry," his voice seems soft and gentle unlike how it normally sounds, he removes his hand from your face and leans back to the wall.

you sigh and look at your watch, "I am leaving now it's late, have fun but don't drink too much."

He instantly grabs your hand and pulls you closer, "Fun? I swear I wasn't trying to get close with any girl, I was just vibing at the song and they joined in. That's it. Infact when they started getting closer to me I backed off, you can ask Jimin and you know he doesn't lie."

You listen him but your mind gets dizzy by the closeness and the way he is holding you.

"I... I really don't care even if you got close with them, you don't need to explain me." you remove his hand from yours and step a little back from the closeness.

"yeah right, why would you care," he looked down for a second and then back into your eyes, "by the way, I am not drunk.... I just had a glass of wine so don't think I am making you confuse because I am drunk."

"So why are you actually confusing me?"

"I think you should leave."

"Fuck you!"

"Aren't you too eager to fuck me?" he chuckles making you frown.

"In your dreams." you roll your eyes.

"We already did" he smirks

"what?"

"in my dreams.."

"what in your dreams?"

"You were leaving right? Bye." he speaks before leaving you dumbfounded again.

"Fuck you Kim Taehyung." you mutter under your breath and leave the club.

⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕

Taehyung leaves the club soon after you, you were right... he stalks you everytime you leave the club but not today, he didn't.

He was so heated up from the earlier interactions you both had, the way your body almost pressed against his when he pulled you towards himself.... you would never know how crazy you make him just by looking into his eyes that he wants to pin you against some wall and make out roughly with you.

Well, he has some great self control or else the way you affect him, he just wants to fuck you senselessly..... everytime you were close to him, everytime you accidently touched him.... he has always went hard. And now after the club incident and the way you reacted when he touched your lips lightly, made him hard. He drives to his home and as soon as he enters his room, closing the door behind, he takes out his laptop and open some secret app. He types the long password and a blank buffering screen appears which suddenly opens the view of your room.

Yes, he did install hidden cameras in your room when you invited him for the house warming party and you never knew when he sneaked into your room. At first, he felt a little guilty so he never really tried to see anything even though he wanted to. It's been a week and he had hardly seen anything other than one time when you made him hard by sitting on his lap accidently and he couldn't control himself but that time he shut the video soon as you stripped in your room. He almost stopped breathing then, seeing you completely naked on his laptop's screen.

This time, his mind is filled with all the nasty thoughts. He is hard, he could watch porn but just seeing your naked body would make him release better than those porns.

He fidgets his fingers and tap his feet in anticipation, he sits straight when he hears the door opening sound of your room. You enter your room, closing the door behind and throw your purse on the floor, making him chuckle a little. You take off your heels and throw them aside too. You jump sit on the bed, crossing your legs and take your phone in hand. He frowns seeing you not strip out of the party dress already but little does he know that something else is waiting for him.

You scroll your phone screen but your mind still at the club interaction with Taehyung, you let out a sigh and search for his ig account. You got it quick as he was in your mutuals and his account wasn't private as well. Taehyung really didn't get any idea that you are stalking his account because he couldn't see what's on your phone screen. You keep scrolling until you reach to a video clip where he is playing piano :

you open this video and lean back on the head board of your bed, you smile a little at his dramatic reactions at first. Meanwhile, Taehyung in his room taps his feet faster, fidgeting his fingers on the table while he keeps his eyes fixed on you through the screen.

As the video goes on, his expressions and the way his fingers moves hits you a little differently.... your cheeks turns red suddenly. "Don't you love how my fingers touch you?" his words voices in your mind again and again as you see how his fingers work on the piano.. your breath gets a little heavy and you straighten up your legs... his expressions and his long fingers, the way it's working on the piano, makes your mind filled with dirty thoughts.

The video clip ends but you watch it again and again and everytime your breaths gets even heavier.... as you continue watching the video again, your hand slowly travells to your thigh.... you rub your thighs a little which makes Taehyung raise his eyebrow.

You spread your legs a little and your hand goes upward on your thigh... stroking it gently, you pull up the hem of your short dress revealing your bare thighs and your little shorts which you wore for safety reasons.

The next thing Taehyung saw was you pulling down your shorts and throwing it aside, now only in your panty. His breaths turns sharp and heavy... even with the panty on, you still managed to get him harder.

Your hand rest on your inner thigh as you continue watching the video, slowly it goes upward and now your fingers are pressed on your clothed clit. Taehyung gasps realising what exactly you are doing.

"Holy fuck," he mutters under his breath.

He leans closer to the screen, you start drawing circles on your clothed clit lightly.... his hands veins popping up by how tightly he was gripping the table as he was trying hard not to touch his hardened cock.

You start rubbing your clit hardly but your panty was still on, You paused the video and now spreaded your legs wide open, leaning back properly on the headboard as you rubbed your clit a little fast before entering a finger inside your pussy from the side of your panty.

"Take out that danm cloth y/n!" he slams the table a little hardly. His cock hardened and erect.

"Oh shittt," you whimper as you insert another finger. Taehyung's fists clench tightly, veins popping out hard and his breaths get heavy.... his cock was now painfully hard.

"Oh my god... mhmmmm..., " you moan when you bring your other hand to rub your clit.

You pause for a moment, breathing heavily... it seemed like you are trying hard but not able to get your orgasm.

Taehyung keeps looking at the screen, his eyes were filled with lust and desires, not moving away from the screen even for a second.

"cum. shit. make yourself cum," he breathed, "I wanna see that pretty reaction on your face when you cum, show me."

You resume the video clip of him and finger yourself while watching it, your eyes fixed on every move of his fingers in the video and the way he is giving those horny reactions. You move your fingers faster but still far from your orgasm.

Taehyung's eyes fixed on your fingers and your clothed clit which was slightly visible now, his mouth open a little. He was waiting not so patiently to see you cum.

"Oh my god Taehyung, fuckkkk!!!" you moaned loudly closing your eyes and fucking yourself even faster which made Taehyung widen his eyes, mouth hung open and mind blank for a moment. He gulped hard, his adam's apple bobbing, as his throat went dry. His grip on the table tightened even more.

"Repeat." he muttered under his breath almost loosing all his patience to hear you moaning his name once again to make sure he heard correct.

"T-Taehyung.... fuckkkkk, oh god.... his fingers, I need it. Fuckkk" you whine, closing your eyes tightly, completely frustrated on not being able to relax yourself with the orgasm you need.

"FUCK!" he cursed the moment he heard his name again, he stood up with a jerk making his chair fall behind and rushed out with his car keys. His breaths were hitched, heart pounding in his chest and his cock standing erect, he didn't touch it even once to calm himself down. Now, he just wants to fuck you senselessly and then will his hard cock relax. He wants only your pussy around his cock, he didn't care how painfully hard he was... he will release only inside you and he didn't think twice.

He was driving his car in insane speed, almost getting into an accident... his hands gripping the steering wheel. Frustration crazying him as he was not able to increase the speed anymore, as if it was even possible.

He stops his car by pressing the breaks harshly when he reached your house, almost crashing to the parked car outside of your house.

He quickly gets out of the car and run to ring the doorbell, you flinch hearing the doorbell at this time. It was unusual for you. You get off the bed and set your dress properly. By the time you reached the main door of your house, he had almost broke it by banging the door continuously.

You open the door revealing a heavily panting Taehyung, sweats dripping from his forehead. Your eyes widened.

"You? what-"

Before you could even complete your question he came inside and grabbed your waist pulling you into a rough kiss. You gasped, shocked and confused. He closes the door behind and turns you around, pressing you against the wall as he kisses you deeply. Your mind was completely blank but you felt melting in his kiss. You kissed him back, giving in, his lips moved against yours harshly... he bit your lower lip making you gasp lightly and entered his tongue in your mouth. His tongue rubbed your lips and then explored every corner of your mouth. The sound of your sloppy and rough kiss was clearly heard.... he was literally devouring your mouth.

You were completely breathless, in need of oxygen but he was not in a mood to leave your mouth so soon. You patted his shoulder asking him to let you breath. He sucked and bit your lips before pulling away from the kiss. You were now more surprised by how roughly he was kissing you even though when he was literally panting when he came here and now you are the one completely breathless. You panted heavily holing his shoulders and he let you calm a little before speaking,

"Now take off that little panty of yours and let me help you with what you were trying for, so hardly." he whispered leaning forward towards your ear, his words came like he is ordering you and you have no other option. You gasped at his words.

"What?" your eyes still widen from shock.

"Don't you need my fingers? You just begged for it baby and seems like your prayers has been heard" he smirks darkly.

You were not able to figure out how does he know and your words were completely stuck in your throat.

"H-how?" you stuttered not able to speak anything more.

The dark smirk was still playing on his lips as he spoke, "Only if I knew you were this needy for me, I wouldn't think twice before fucking you instead of watching you live from the hidden cameras."

Your eyes widen even more and mouth slightly open.

"Hidden what?"

"So you were serious everytime you said 'Fuck you' to me huh? What a bad girl you are, fucking yourself while imagining my fingers on you. What else do you imagine about me baby?"

your cheeks were red from embarrassment and you didn't look into his eyes so he held your chin and made you look up.

"Won't you take me to your room? I promise I will pleasure you better than you imagine... you don't need any video of mine when I am here to fuck you better than you want," he lifts you up in his arms and walks towards your room, "I will make sure to give you as many orgasms as you want."

As soon as he enters your room with you in his arms, he sits down on the bed and places you on his lap before kissing your neck.

"Strip and lay down on the bed, now." his voice completely demanding. You gulp a little as you get off from his lap and stand infront of him.

"Don't make me wait anymore, you have already made me enough impatient," he spoke indicating towards his visible bulge which made your mouth slightly open again. He chuckled at your reaction.

"Now strip but leave that panty of yours on your body," he orders and you follow his words without thinking anymore.

You take off your dress and your bra, leaving yourself only in the panty and lay down on the bed. You fidget your fingers in the nervousness, taking deep breaths.

He sits infront of your legs and spread them wide... He sucked in a deep breath when he saw the wet patches on your panty which you got earlier from rubbing your clit.

He wanted to destroy that little pussy of yours but also wanted to give you the best pleasures so he decided to take things in order. His hand strked your thighs gently and without wasting anymore time he reached your inner thighs, rubbing them with his fingers. You gasped and gasped with every touch of his.

He tried his best to control himself but the tention inside was more than enough to make him loose his mind, he took of your panty and threw it aside, you heard a gasp from him.

"Holy fuck! you are dripping from wetness.," his mouth watering at the sight infront of him, "all this for me?" he asked, his hands were very near to you heat. You nod, closing your eyes as you felt the embarrassment.

"So fucking pretty," he muttered running his fingers on your folds. A current ran through your body when he touched your heat, you whimpered lowly.

He pressed his finger on your clit and rubbed light circles on it making your chest rise with heavy and sharp breaths. He was loving the reactions you were giving him, just like he wanted.

Without wasting a single second he inserted his middle finger in your hold making you clench the bed sheets. He started pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing the soft bud as he increases the pace.

"I want to hear my name from that pretty mouth of yours, moan for me." he ordered seeing you trying to control fyourself from making any noice.

"shit! Taehyung," you finally moaned, you actually wanted to but you thought it would be embarrassing.

"How gorgeous you look moaning my name like that when I fuck you with my fingers," he groaned inserting another finger which made you gasp louder.

Your mind goes dizzy with all the pleasure and you feel yourself at the edge, "I... I will cum.." you speak between your shaky breaths.

"Cum for me princess."

You were too busy wanting your climax that you didn't actually pay attention to the nick name he just called you with.

His fingers expertly caress your bundle of nerves, causing ripples of exquisite sensations to travel through your entire being. A wetness gathers around his digits as they dance with skill on your aching clitoris and inner walls. The feeling intensifies, pushing you further beyond your limits as pleasure becomes almost unbearable but just when you think you may succumb, he increases the pressure on your peak, sending wave upon wave of bliss coursing throughout your eager body.

"Ahhh fuckkkk! Taehyung~" you moan loudly as you reach your climax and get that orgasm which you wanted from so long.

Taehyung doesn't stop, he continues to masterfully pleasure your throbbing clitoris and tenderly explore your pulsing insides, bringing you to shuddering orgasm after orgasm until the sheer ecstasy consumes you completely. Your cries fill the air as your muscles contract again and again, writhing beneath him. Yet, even amidst the rapture of climax, Taehyung doesn't slow down. His unrelenting devotion keeps the electric currents flowing through your veins, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

You feel another pool of pleasure forming inside your stomach as you keep moaning from how fast and roughly he was fingering you now.

"Oh god... Oh god... Taehyung please..." you whine but he just doesn't stop.

"yeah princess?" he asks innocently and you just shake your head.

"How badly you needed my fingers? how many times did you touch yourself imagining me huh? such a bad girl, you could have just asked me baby," his voice hoarse, "is my fingers making you feel good? is it satisfying you the way you always imagined?"

You nod your head instantly, "yess, yes... yess, Please don't stop."

He chuckles darkly before speaking, "I have no intention of stopping, not until you beg me to."

Taehyung grinds his knuckles into your overheated clit, applying a steady, relentless rhythm. Each pressurized pulse hits your sensitive area, ripple after ripple of pleasurable sensations spreading outwards. The pace quickens, as he adjusts the angle of his thrusts, finding new ways to stimulate every last inch of your core. Sweat begins to trickle down your temples and spine as your heart races faster in anticipation. Your head lolls back, surrendering to the building tide of passion.

soon another orgasm washes over you as you cum once again, moaning his name loudly. He stops for a moment, letting your breath.

"Fuck! That was-" you swallow the rest of your words as he inserts his finger once again without any warning.

"Fuck!!" you let out a cry, you were still coming down from the intense pleasure you just got and he started fingering again.

Your voice echoes, fueling his determination. He ferociously strums your throbbing nub, maintaining a firm grip on your hips to keep you grounded in this passionate frenzy. Rapid, heated breaths escape your lungs as the tension builds within you. Your body instinctively responds, clenching and releasing sporadically in a futile effort to delay the inevitable explosion of desire. It's no use, the sensation proves too powerful; your breasts heave as a low moan escapes you. And then comes the wave, threatening to overwhelm you.

"Oh fuckk.... please....." you whine, your thighs tremble and clenches on its own but he grabs and keeps it firm not allowing you to move.

"I promised that I will give you plenty of orgasms so be a good girl now." he growls.

You close your eyes tightly from the overwhelming pleasures, you were not able to breath properly other than moaning and screaming.

Taehyung's hairs sticks on his forehead from the sweat dripping from his head, his eyes focused on his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy and his thumb rubbing your clit. He seemed so determined to give you orgasms, his eyes was dark and filled with hunger.

Your voices echoes.

"HOLY FUCKKK!!!! FUCKKKKK!!!!" you scream louder as you cum again, thrice, your body arched back and toes curled, your fingers dug in the bedsheets and eyes rolled back, chest rised up as you feel another strong orgasm. Your mind completely goes blank for a moment. You squirt all over his fingers but he just doesn't stop, his other handstarts rubbing your clit senselessly, taking out all the liquids from inside your pussy. A huge mess.

"Taehyung~ please~ I can't take it more... please" you beg him as tears roll down your eyes.

He slows down his fingers eventually stopping it and then pulls it out. He gently pats your throbbing and heated clit to calm you down. Your pussy was literally pounding from all the intense orgasms and assault.

You take heavy breaths and gulp to wet your dry throat. He leans in and kisses your lips again before taking you in his lap.

"Now help me princess, it's painful." his words were begging but his voice was still demanding.

you kiss him once again before pushing him down on the bed.You unbutton his shirts quickly and then pull away his pants along with his boxers. His length bouncing out, a gasp escaped your mouth seeing how big and hard he is.

"Will it even fit?" you asked making him chuckle.

"It will fit and you will take it all like a good girl you are." you can feel how big of a dominant he is and you liked it that way, being submissive to him in bed was not bad at all.

with a sultry grin you, you crawl towards him, perching yourself above his rigid erection. You can feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, you rub his length on your folds gently, moaning at the sensation.

"Fuck! Take it already" he groaned and you followed. Inch by inch, you sink deeper onto him until finally your wetness embraces his entire length, surprisingly fiting in your little cunt. That's how nicely he fingered you.

"Are you okay?" he asks massaging your breasts.

"Fuck, yes I am." you let out a low moan, adjusting yourself on his cock.

He grabs your hips as you start moving slowly on his rock hard member..

"Holy fuck, you feel so good," he moans, "more than I ever imagined"

"you imagined me like this?" you ask rocking your hips on his cock.

"Always, everytime I was hard.... I always imagined fucking you like this to release myself," he groans and his hand grip guiding your hips in a perfect rhythm, "you feel so good, so fucking good."

"fuck!" you curse at the feeling of being impaled by him and his confessions were so intoxicating. You increase your pace, riding and grinding against him, undulating in time with pulsating rhythm.

His hands wander across your frame, cupping and pinching your erect nipples, sending bolts of electric pleasure coursing through your veins.

You could hear how seductive his moans were and how erotic it sounded, it felt like a music to your ears when he moaned your name buried inside your pussy.

His other hand rested tenderly upon your breast while the other hand helped you ride him relentlessly, with every thrust your hips squeezed his manhood tightly. a series of rippling pulses causing tremors throughout his lower body.

Moans escape from the depths of your throat, your body arching slightly with each contractions. Feeling the mighty grip of your core contracting around him. His cock twicthes inside your pussy hinting his edge.

"Cum Taehyung, like you always wanted to... cum inside my cunt... fill it with your hot release." you hype him up, as you reach your own high, earning a deep growl from him.

"Fuck! you are such a slut for me. Aren't you?" he growls, his wands now gripping your hips firmly increasing the pace to unimaginable speed.

"Fck yes!" you let out a cry.

"Then cum with me princess, come one.. show me how good of a slut you are."

He guides you to your another climax while reaching his own.

Your body arched back completely, nails dug on his chest as you both reach your climax together.

"FUCK! Such a good girl you are!" he moans loudly, releasing himself inside your cunt.

His hot and sticky fluid fills your pussy, you fall on his chest... panting heavily and his arms wrap around you.

He kisses your forehead, the least thing you could have expected and runs his fingers along your hairs once he calmed down.

"I love you." his voice soft now but still shaky from breathlessness.

You rise your face to look at him, "you what?"

He nods confirming his words, "I love you, I really do."

"Just because you had a good fuck with me?" you frown.

"No, I mean yes it was the best sex I will ever have because it's our first fuck together but I really love you."

"Since when?"

"Since the day you punched my face" he chuckled

"and you always pretended to hate me, why?" you ask, unknowingly pouting a little.

"because I liked teasing you that way, I liked the tention between us, didn't you?" he stroked your cheeks gently.

"I would hate to admit but yes, you attracted me a lot like that."

"The reason you were fucking yourself watching my video." he chuckled teasing you a little.

"uh.. and you literally installed hidden cameras here, how many times did you watch me doing that?"

"if I watched you earlier then we wouldn't be fucking for the first time today princess," you finally notice the nick name he is calling you with and a smile tugs in your lips, "its just been a week since I installed the cameras but I swear I rarely saw anything except for today, I got so needy from the club that I couldn't control myself."

"wish you watched me earlier." you speak as he continues caressing your cheeks and hairs.

"bad girl you are."

"only for you and I love you too" you confess before pecking his lips gently and he wraps you in his arms, smiling widely.

"I think I will get the best sleep today." you mumble against his chest and he just strokes your hairs after pulling a blanket over you both.

"Good night princess." he kisses your head once again.

⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕

A/n : Believe me, this is the first time I actually wrote a proper smut like with the proper words and all. It took me hours to complete and I honestly don't know what all I wrote and if it's good because I was too horny to focus properly, I just went with the flow. Please bare with any mistakes and yeah it's my first time writing such story so please show some love y'all :)

[kooktrash]

all you want | kim taehyung

summary: in the world of high society finding your future partner took a lot of preparation. kim taehyung is one of the most sought out bachelors and he’s been roped on a blind date with Y/n, a spoiled rich girl not used to being told no. what happens when the two clash?

➣ arranged dating/high society

➣ 13.1k words

➣ rich ceo!kth x rich student!reader [she/her pronouns {female anatomy}]

warnings: smut. very light dom/sub themes. jealousy. lack of communication. make out. heavy petting. oral sėx [f and m]. blowjøb. public oral[bathroom and elevator]. protection sėx. tae is basically a soft dom. reader is kinda a brat. rich kids. missionary. ass slapping lol. light dirty talk. roughish. both experienced. teasing.

song inspo: art deco — lana del rey, i wanna be yours — arctic monkeys,

reupload

He's always considered himself a sensible man, never one to make a fuss over trivial things. He doesn't let a lot of things get to him and he likes to be in control. The only thing that had been in his control today was showing up on time which was something the person he was supposed to meet for lunch today couldn’t do. He’s already been waiting for twenty minutes.

Taehyung was mere seconds away from walking out the door and calling his grandmother to tell her what happened. If she was going to force him to see women for marriage, could they at least be realistic? Not every heiress in their twenties has to be on his radar. His grandmother seems to think he need a list of girls to potentially marry all of which stood in the same economic class as they did.

Kim Taehyung is currently head of a million dollar land development company because of his grandparents. Once they retired they passed it down to him despite being only 26. He graduated early from both high school and college and due to being a nepotism baby, he didn't have to lift much of a finger to be where he's at. Now even though coming from a rich family definitely played into his upbringing and sculpted him into who he was, he never considered himself spoiled—or greedy?

He was fine with the fact that his parents sent him to live with his grandparents since he was young. It was like an assurance that he would be the one to get it all and he did. He was grateful for the life they've given him and all its privileges. That's why when his grandmother asks him to promise that she'll see him married before her day of passing he took it seriously. He asked for her help and boom, he was going on dates with fellow rich people in order to marry.

So no, he could not say he was spoiled. He could say he was grateful and appreciative. He'll do whatever to prove his thankfulness to his family. But you? Now you, the one currently sitting in front of him? Yeah, you’re definitely spoiled.

After making him wait a total of twenty three minutes only to saunter in here in a tight little dress chewing gum without saying a single word to him. You just sat down with your arms crossed over your chest giving him nothing, no apology or explanation for being so late. No introduction, nothing.

Now, his grandparents raised him to be a gentleman so that's what he was. He used benefit of the doubt and stuck it out, he'll give it twenty minutes. He's just not sure if you’ll be doing everything that he had planned and right now you don't have the strongest first impression. Even if he wanted to snap over your rude behavior he didn't.

Instead he finally picked up his menu and began looking over the appetizers. When the waitress came around finally seeing the person he'd been waiting for she rushed over with a polite smile, "Hi! How are you doing today? What can I get you to drink?"

"Water's fine," you told her forcing a smile on your face before turning to look at him, he watched it fall immediately. It made him snicker as he mirrored your stance and crossed his arms over his chest too which told you he can play the waiting game better to see who cracks first.

Your eyes raked down what you could see of him. He wore an all black suit with the shirt buttoned all the way to the top button making him look stiff. Not stiff, but it was something in the way he carried himself that made it almost intimidating. He was attractive, extremely attractive. He was slightly older than you but being a young school girl all you ever heard were rumors about the older Kim grandson heir. And now here you were on a date with him ruining your chances all because you've had a bad day.

When the waitress came back you were both surprisingly ready to order. He didn't mutter a thing to you as he let you give her your order first and then did his. When the waitress left again it went back to complete silence.

Fine. If he wasn't going to talk then you won't either. You waited in silence for about half an hour [longer than Taehyung had wanted to stay] and finally the food got here. He could already tell what kind of person you were and he knew he could handle you so he stayed. You were only a few tiny bites into your lunch when your patience had ran thin. With a roll of your eyes and your fork clanking soft against your plate you caught his attention.

"So are you just not going to say anything at all? Because if that's the case I'll leave," you told him, the silver diamond bracelet you wore glistening under the lights. He continued cutting into his steak ignoring you for a moment before answering, "What would you like me to say?"

That made you huff in annoyance. You shrugged, "I don't know, like say hello, ask me why I was late, just talk to me? All you're doing is sitting there not saying anything like a complete prick."

He smiled a little making the anger inside you rise. He set down his knife and fork leaning forward on the table with his hands folded together, "Oh, so you want me to pay attention to you? Why’s that?”

"What do you mean why?" Your brows furrowed looking at him with irritation written all over your face. With a final roll of your eyes you reached for your handbag, "Whatever. I didn't even want to do this, I don't have to be here."

You didn't make it a step away from the table when his deep voice cut into the thick air like a sharp blade, "Sit down."

"No, I'm leaving," you told him going to take a step. His hand reached out in time to grasp your wrist suddenly making you gasp, "Y/n, sit down."

For some strange reason you did. He picked up his fork and knife again, "Now, we're going to finish our lunch and try and enjoy it, alright? I've given you a chance to talk and now it's my turn. After I say what I have to say you're welcome to leave."

Now, usually you'd throw back some rude comment over how you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to but instead you listened. He let out a deep breath as he went back to eating, chewing thoroughly before swallowing and speaking again, "You arrive twenty minutes late which is fine. I can wait twenty minutes."

"Then when you get here you don't say a single word. No apology, no explanation, not even a hello," Taehyung said as he looked up just in time to catch the roll of your eyes, "This entire time you've sat there in a bad mood refusing to talk to me as well as chewing on your gum not even looking at me. The first thing you say when you finally do decide to talk is complain about my silence? The audacity Y/n, truly."

"Well you know my name and I know yours. I didn't think we needed a formal introduction," you muttered digging into your own plate again. He didn't say anything for a moment waiting to see if you'd finally own up to the bad start of this date that had been entirely your fault but you didn't. He smiled taking his glass and drinking from it, "I'll admit this behavior is expected from someone your age."

Your eyes narrowed, "What's that supposed to mean?" You were 21, only a few years younger than the 27 year old and he was acting like it was a generational gap between you two. Clearly your father chose your current date partner due to his maturity. Your father ran a successful architect company that worked closely with the Kim's line of work so naturally this date was set up but that didn’t mean you liked it.

"It means you are a spoiled brat," he clears his throat going back to eating, "Who's immature and selfish."

"You don't know anything about me," you argued ignoring the waitress as she asked if the food was up to par. He, however, paid his attention to her, "Everything is wonderful if you don't mind bringing us the bill?"

"Let's see..." he pondered for a moment putting his attention back on you, "You're a 21 year old university student living off your parent's money and yet you want to act like you're better than everyone when you haven't worked for a single thing you own? Then you have the nerve to get mad over someone not paying you any attention on a date when you clearly didn't care enough about it to at least show up on time?"

"Wow, are you always this much of an asshole?" You asked raising room your feet, "We're done here."

He didn't say anything letting you leave and that only made you even more mad. Whatever, you rather deal with your dad's fury for walking out on the date than spend another second listening to him think he knows everything about you [news flash though, he was pretty spot on].

You do have to admit that when your parents asked you about lunch and when you told them in all honesty that it was shit they got you in trouble. It's what had you calling his work phone a couple days later despite not wanting to.

"Mr. Kim you have a call from a Y/n L/n on line 1, would you like me to tell her you're not in?" His secretary asked him one Wednesday morning when you called. He could see the surprise evident on her face at the fact that a woman was currently calling him and she looked anything but pleased.

Taehyung isn't a womanizer by any means, to be honest none of his employees have ever heard of him being with a women. Only rumors that have circulated over who his partner might be. He's heard some of course. Some say he's dating a Romanian model, others say he's dating a Japanese socialite. In truth he hasn't been in a serious relationship in a long time and he devotes too much of his time on work to deal with hook ups.

"Go ahead and put her through," Taehyung said adjusting the tightness of his neck tie as she left to connect the call. It took him a second to ready himself to answer the phone, "Hello?"

"Taehyung, hi it's Y/n," you said through the phone. You were currently sunbathing on your balcony poolside wearing a small two piece bathing suit and Chanel sunglasses. Your parents asked you to play nice so that's what you'll do.

"Yes, I know," Taehyung leaned back in his desk chair holding the phone up to his ear as he turned to face the view of Seoul sky scrapers in front of his office. You expected a little more small talk but went on nevertheless, "So listen, I wanted to apologize for how things left off on Sunday. I was wondering if you wanted to try and meet again? Maybe talk things out."

Taehyung smiled hearing you apologize. It looks like the princess does know how to own up to their actions. Though he's pretty sure you're not apologizing out of the kindness of your heart and instead most likely because you were being made to.

Still, part of him was intrigued. The previous women he's gone out with due to his grandmother have been boring. It felt like he was listening to the same story over and over again. They agreed with every little thing he said to impress him and he didn't like that. He liked a challenge. He liked someone who can bring out different sides to him and really tests his limits.

He's not saying you are that someone just yet but for some reason... your awful first impression didn't actually leave a bad taste in his mouth. On the contrary, the fuss you made had him curious. Matched with your looks, he can easily put up with your attitude. You've managed to spark some curiosity in him to pursue you further instead of the other women he's dated.

"Do you have something in mind?" He asked playing with his tie as he stared down at his reflection in the shine of his shoes. He tilted his head back biting his lip waiting to see what you had in mind.

"Well... I mean not exactly but..." you trailed off staring off at the cool water in front of you. You didn't expect him to actually be down to meet again. You listened to your parents and reached out to him with absolutely no hope that he'd still want to talk but here you were. You weren't mad about it at all, he was attractive and if he could put up with your shitty mood last time then you should give it a try.

"How about this then," he cleared his throat swiveling back around to face his desk, "I have this... banquet to go to on Saturday and I can take a plus one. Would you like to accompany me?"

You thought about it for a second. A banquet? Those were so boring. You could list a thousand other things that'd be more fun to do this weekend. Considering he'll be going to this on Saturday no matter what, you knew he wouldn't do something different with you instead. You sighed quietly, "What would the attire be?"

"Formal," Taehyung said sitting up even more, "If this is something you're alright with doing we can meet then. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," you told him turning onto your front to tan your back, "Wouldn't it be better to give me your personal number?"

He agreed repeating the numbers for you to log and you sent a simple text saying who it was. The call ended and you went back to lounging while he went back to working.

       You ended up meeting sooner than expected on Saturday, after a long morning of stressing on what to wear you ended up calling Taehyung, "I can't go! I have nothing to wear."

There was no hello, just straight to distress.

"What do you mean?" Taehyung asked when you called having a meltdown at ten in the morning, "Why can't you go? I already RSVP'd."

He was in the middle of brunch when you called making him excuse himself from his friends to answer your call. You whined a little, "I don't have anything formal. I can't go, I have nothing to wear."

He let out a sigh, "I'm sure there's something in your closet or—"

"No! There isn't. I looked in both closets and there's absolutely nothing I can wear. Especially if there will be press there I can't be caught in the same dress I've worn before," you were visibly freaking out standing in your bedroom sized closet staring at all the dresses dresses and skirts. Your shoe collection scattered on the floor, hand bags thrown half hazard across the middle island of jewelry. You wanted to cry.

He bit into his bottom lip in thought. He checked the time on his wrist watch, "Can you be ready in an hour? I'll head over to pick you up and we'll go out and find you a dress. How does that sound?"

"Okay."

Click.

Taehyung ran his hand over his face. You just... you just played him basically. You came to him acting like a brat over not wanting to wear the same outfit twice and he just... he just gave you what you wanted so easily. He mindlessly offered to take you shopping and that satisfied you enough to stop complaining.

He had just been thinking about how spoiled you were and he was quickly enabling it just like everyone else around you. With a huff of air out his cheeks he headed back to his table of friends already struggling at explaining why he'd be leaving so suddenly.

"I, unfortunately, have to get going. Something came up," he cleared his throat hoping he could get away with just saying that. Jimin was the first to interrogate him, a smirk evident on his face, "Something or someone?"

"I'd be curious to know too," Jin piped in, "I saw the article of you and Y/n L/n having lunch together. It wasn't positive."

Taehyung shrugged rummaging through his wallet to get money for his bill. He set it on the table, "It's a work in progress." He left it at that leaving them even more curious than before and left to pick you up.

Once you were in his car he drove to luxury brand stores with high quality formal attire. He was lucky to be able to sit in the private waiting room in the middle of a circle of fitting rooms. He had a glass of champagne in hand waiting for you. You disappeared for a short moment changing into a dress he picked and came back out with a sour expression. His eyes scanned your head to toe. The dress was a soft cream and hugged your curves perfectly. It was taken in at your waist and had puffy sheer sleeves.

"This is so ugly," you said honestly turning to look at him, "I look like a peach."

"Well it's better than some of the stuff you've shown me," he argued making your eyes roll. You hoisted the dress up and left the waiting room to pick out your own dresses. You marched back into the fitting room and chose another one.

Next you sauntered out in a deep red mini silk dress, a slit on the side and a deep V. Immediately shook his head, "No."

"Why?" You asked checking yourself out in the mirror, “I look good.” The end of the dress barely reached your fingertips. Taehyung was looking at you from behind shaking his head, "You do but maybe for a night out, not for a company banquet. Let's find something else."

With a little stomp of your foot you returned to the fitting room to change.

When Taehyung picked you up later on in the evening he could already feel his patience thinning. Thankfully you managed to come to an agreement on a dress earlier but you made it so sultry.

The long black fitted dress with a long slit down your leg, back completely exposed as the dress barely covered your butt. The way it hugged your figure and sparkled of silver embroidery. The black dress looked exquisite on you especially with the way you styled your hair and chose jewelry. Anyone walking by would assume you're on the way to a red carpet instead.

The dress wasn't what made him feel impatient if not the person wearing it. He could already tell you were a handful and he was willingly involving himself with you because he liked it. All eyes had been on you the second you entered the venue and it was obvious why. Heads turned in your direction either in awe or judgement.

In his eyes, you were the most show stopping in the room. You stuck out in the best way possible and he was the one with you. Taehyung knows that he’s worth envying and when paired with you, who people also envied, it was like a perfect match. His hand on your lower bare back lead you to a group of people who all turned to look you up and down.

"Ah! It's the socialite," Jin said with a smirk on his face as you both approached. You were known for being out an any social event that met your standards. You didn't say anything hearing them all introduce themselves and Taehyung's arm wrapped around your waist, "This is Y/n L/n, my date tonight."

A server came around holding a tray of champagne and you happily took a glass as well as Taehyung. You could already tell tonight was going to be boring but Taehyung looked so good in his Givenchy suit that he was all you could focus on. You caught a few girls checking him out too but that didn't come as a surprise. In the inner circle of influential people Kim Taehyung was a well known bachelor. A lot of women had their eyes on him yet here he was with you.

A spoiled girl known to get what you want and currently that's him. They couldn't even compete and yet you still felt annoyed whenever one of them would pass and gawk at your date.

"I'll be back," you whispered to him, "I'm gonna go find a restroom to freshen up." He looked around for an idea of which direction you'd be heading to and nodded. He wasn't expecting you to lean up and plant a soft kiss on his neck but he wasn't against it at all.

Taehyung watched the sway of your hips as you walked away, the glass of champagne brushing against his bottom lip as he went to take a drink. Namjoon cleared his throat, "Y/n definitely knows how to make an entrance."

"Are you sure you'll know what to do with all of that? I heard Y/n's a lot to handle," Hoseok said still looking after you before disappearing among the crowd of people all turning to stare at you, "I mean... if you need any help I'd be happy to."

Taehyung forced a smile on his face, "I got it." Jimin cleared his throat, "She knows how to show off her best assets. How'd you let her come out in that?"

He shrugged. He didn't care for the conversation or the way they talked about you for that matter. He took a small sip before answering, "Y/n can wear what she wants.”

He learned that earlier today. Jin looked at him, "And you're okay with that? Look at all the attention she's getting." Taehyung turned to him, "I'm not worried."

"Taehyung!" He kept himself in place ignoring the call of his name. Only a second later and a hand attached itself to his bicep squeezing slightly, "Oh my, I didn't see you come in."

A woman appeared at his side, smile on her face as she clung to him. He looked down at her, "Mina."

"Oh my god, don't be so serious, haven't seen you in so long," Mina said oblivious to his glare.

Mina had been a fling he had a few years ago. He was younger, not as established, and just looking for some fun. It was never anything serious and as he grew older he learned about how little patience he had with the actress.

You applied the finishing touch of lip gloss fixing your hair in the mirror as you left the wash room. It took you a total of .5 seconds to find Taehyung and his friends again. You hadn't expected to find a woman on his arm though. Your eyes narrowed at the sight zoning in on her and making your way over. Nobody seemed to notice your arrival until you were directly in front of them.

Taehyung's breath of relief at your arrival had gone over your head as you leaned your weight on one hip flicking your hair off your shoulder. He cleared his throat using his hand to push Mina's off his bicep before wrapping his arm around your waist, "Y/n, shall we go find our seats?"

"Hello, I'm Mina," you forced a feigned polite smile even when your eyes showed something else as she introduced herself to you before you could leave to your table, "And you are?"

"Y/n..." you said giving her the same once over she was currently giving you. Mina looked you up and down, "How do you know Taehyung?"

You couldn't bite back the sour tone, "Does it matter to you?" She looked visibly taken back as Taehyung turned away from her hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink. Why did he kind of like how blunt you were? Jin and Hoseok snickered, they all knew how much Mina annoyed Taehyung.

"Oh!" Mina clapped, "I was just curious what dumb bimbo Taehyung sank his teeth into this time, at least now I know who."

Everyone seemed to stop moving, eyes wide at her words. Even if they didn’t know you personally everyone knew you and your family weren’t ones you should talk about negatively. Mina didn’t seem to get that.

Your face brightened at the hint of an insult sent your way. You always did love a good bitch fight. You smiled feeling Taehyung turn ready to tell Mina to fuck off when you spoke, "For a washed up has-been like you, you've got some nerve saying that to me. Just say you're upset he's not into you and run along before I get a little mean, alright?"

"I think it's too late for that," Namjoon whispered even as he fought off the need to laugh. Mina was a has-been who used Taehyung to gain influence and then slept with her yoga instructor. You turned to Taehyung, "I'm hungry."

It took him a second to process what had just happened and then he was nodding his head leading you to your seats to wait for the food to be served. Mina watched him leave with you with her jaw dropped. Taehyung held your chair out for you before pushing you in. He sat in his own seat and turned to you, "Let me apologize for what just happened. She came up to me while you were gone an—"

"I don't care," you brushed your fingers through your hair staring straight ahead. You didn't even bother hiding the bad mood you were in now. Throughout the dinner and speeches he tried getting your attention but you were cold toward him like it had all been his fault. It reminded him of the bad attitude you had on your lunch date and he wasn't going to put up with it for a second time.

By the end of the night you were waiting outside for the valet to bring Taehyung's car over and you stood a few feet away from him, arms crossed over your chest like a child upset they didn't get what they wanted. He scoffed watching you open the door to the back of his car and sit inside. He stopped the door from closing as he glared down at you, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," you told him plainly looking ahead. Without thinking he reached for your hand and pulled you out of the car with little force as he cornered you against the side, "Listen, you're not going to be catching an attitude with me. Either you sit up front next to me like a big girl or you throw your little fit and I leave you here and go home. You decide."

He stood closely, his chest touching your crossed arms as neither one of you looked away, waiting for the other to stand down first. You didn't like this. You wanted to throw a fit and keep up your bad attitude but he won't let you. Or no, he will but he'll leave and you're not interested in finding a cab on your own. So, with a pout on your face and a roll of your eyes you climbed into the front seat slamming the door in his face. Looking around to make sure nobody other than the valet saw your act of defiance he fixed his suit as if to not appear disheveled. He rounded over to his side of the car and got in.

It's bad how much he liked putting you in your place as well as how much he liked seeing you act out and be a brat. Clearing his throat he put his seatbelt on and drove off.

Despite wanting to run out the car and up to your apartment Taehyung didn't let you. He locked the door before you could open and pushed the button repeatedly when you tried unlocking it. Turning to yell at him he gave you a look that read 'try me' so you didn't.

He put the car in park in front of your building, "If you're upset about something, talk to me. Don't just get mad and take it out on me because I won't be putting up with that. What happened earlier was all because of Mina so I understand being upset but I don't care about her, I care about you. If you would've given me the chance I would've told her to fuck off myself."

"I don't need you doing anything for me," you told him. He reached for the hand you had on the arm rest, "I know you don't but I want to. The same way I want to see you again but just know that if you keep giving me attitude over every little thing thing, I'm going to keep putting you in your place. The way you've treated me so far is childish and all you've shown me is how spoiled and immature you are."

He thought back to the first date and the way you acted like he was the one at fault. Or even when you called crying about the dress only to get happy when he offered to buy you a new one. The way you complained to him for five minutes about how ugly the dress he picked out for you originally was and didn't try to cooperate at all. The way you handled your business with Mina and then turned around and took it out on him. And it's a big problem because he's willingly taking it all due to his growing feelings for you. You had a six year age gap and it felt like your maturity levels were on completely different ends of the spectrum.

"If I'm so spoiled and immature then why do you want to see me again?" You scoffed looking away from him. There you go again. The hand that had been on the steering wheel moved to cup your face forcing you to look at him but your eyes still wandered in refusal to obey. He waited until your eyes did meet his, "Because I'm into you and your little attitude doesn't scare me when I know you're into me too. We wouldn't be here right now if you weren't."

For some reason that made your insides turn giddy. The way he was so mature, and his deep voice sent shivers down your spine. The way he told you it how it was from the very beginning ordering you to sit still and look pretty while he let you know you won't be having any attitude with him. You liked it a lot. You liked him a lot.

You hated how reasonable and calm he is though. You wanted to see him snap. So far you've done a lot of things that have granted someone/anyone to yell at you and he has yet to do that. The most he's done is give his reasoning for ignore you and order you to sit up front with him. You wanted him to really show you who you're messing with and you wanted to see how much you could get away with.

He's only seen bits and pieces of how bad your attitude could get—even a hint of your jealous and possessive side—but you knew you could push his buttons even further. Without another word you leaned forward until your lips pressed against his. Completely taken back it took him a moment to get to his senses and kiss you back.

His eyes fell shut as his hand held your face close to his deepening the kiss as needed. Taehyung's tongue swiped along your bottom lip before exploring the inside of your mouth. The soft muscles of your tongue and his fought for dominance as the kiss turned into a heated make out. He released a soft groan when you sucked on his tongue eagerly. You pushed forward moving to straddle his lap but he stopped you before you could.

You whined, "What now?" You tried going back to kiss him but he shook his head loosening his tie as he caught his breath. "No?" You asked feeling annoyed again, "What do you mean no?" Nobody ever tells you no.

"No, as in no, Y/n," Taehyung said sternly, "You've been in a bad mood the whole ride here—practically all night ignoring me, and now you want me to just give in to what you want? No."

"I've wanted you all night," you said honestly making his wall crumble a little bit he kept up his act. He had to put his foot down. He scoffed, "Well you could've fooled me. I'll call you when I get home, how about that?"

"Whatever," you rolled your eyes pulling the lock up and finally getting out. You slammed his car door shut and made your way up the steps to your building hearing the sound of a window rolling down. Taehyung looked through it, "Text me when you get inside, I want to make sure you make it back safely."

"Fuck you," you muttered making him smile, "I heard that."

      Throughout the last couple of weeks that Taehyung has had the chance to get to know you he's learned a few things about you and himself.

One, that you love the attention. You love the stares and the whispers. You lived for being in the spotlight and the center of attention.

Two, that you're surprisingly clingy and needy. Alright not that surprising but still clingy. You called each other every day mostly for him to listen to you rant about some injustice done against you ranging from someone taking the pair of Jimmy Choo's you wanted to classes at the University starting up soon. You listened to him tell you about his latest project and boring meetings he had to attend.

Third, he loves giving you the attention. He's learned you're very easy to confide in. You listen and seem genuinely interested in what he says. When you talk to him it doesn't seem rehearsed to cater to him. You're honest saying what's on your mind and he likes that.

Not a lot of people can put up with you, you'll admit that. You've got a very small circle of friends who you genuinely trust and confide in. You never expected Taehyung to quickly insert himself as one of the chosen few.

The only two other people in this tight knit circle were your best friends who were currently interrogating you. Jungkook couldn't hold in his laugh as you retold the events of the last couple of weeks.

Your friend Yoongi shook his head in astonishment as the three of you lounged around Jungkook's million dollar apartment gifted to him by his parents for graduating University. You were sprawled across one of his couches waiting for him to find something the three of you could do for the night telling them of the guy you've been seeing.

"I'm actually genuinely surprised it's going so well for you," Jungkook said stifling a laugh as you flipped him the bird. Yoongi shook his head, "I, for one, expected this when you told us who you'd be going on a date with."

"What do you mean?" You asked flipping for your phone around on your stomach absentmindedly. You remembered telling the two in a group call before your date. You'd just gotten home from a week long trip to Paris when your parents informed you of the date set up.

Tired beyond belief and with nothing to wear you had a meltdown in your closet. You had watched time tick on by closer to the meet up time and you hadn't cared. In that moment you were more focused on your lack of wardrobe ranting to your friends about the man you'd be going on a date with.

You remember saying, in the middle of a tantrum, how you didn't care if you were late and if he bailed. You weren't going to go until you found the perfect outfit just to spite your parents for throwing this on you just as you landed in Seoul.

Yoongi shrugged, "I just knew. I met him once at a grand opening for some art museum and he seemed like the exact type of person you needed."

Your brows furrowed in confusion looking to Jungkook who looked just as equally confused as he cleared his throat, "Feel free to explain because I'm pretty sure neither of us get what you're saying."

"I'm saying that Taehyung seems like a good fit for you," Yoongi told you, "You need someone who matches your energy when you're being bitchy. Someone who'll tell you how it is without you asking for it. Don't say you don't like when someone puts you in your place."

This, unfortunately, was a very normal conversation topic for you three. Being friends for years you'd gotten closer in your prep school years. You experienced a lot of 'first's' right after the other and the subject was easy to discuss. The amount of things you've heard about Jungkook's sex life or Yoongi's bedroom behavior with his girlfriend was unbelievable.

"I mean... it's not boring..." you answered cautiously as you thought on it further. Now that you think about it, you've been more caught up on Taehyung than any of the other guys your parents introduced you to.

He didn't cater to your every request. He didn't even try and take any advances in the car when you kissed him. He was respectful and kind. But at the same time, it was something in the way he reeled you back in. In the midst of an anger fit he is quick to let you know he won't be the one you take it out on. He'll make you own up to your actions [like arriving late on the first date] and he doesn't let you distance yourself during that time.

Before people would easily give you what you want if it meant you'd stopped being a bitch or you'd be left alone until your tantrum wore off. Taehyung was the opposite. He confronted you about your rude behavior toward him when he was at his last straw. He didn't even let you pout in his back seat after the banquet. He let you know he wasn't going to be your punching bag and instead wanted to talk about things to you.

And on the phone he was very gentle. His deep voice was calming every time you tell him about your day or anything that might've upset you. He made you laugh when you wanted to be mad. Maybe he was what you needed and Yoongi was right.

Before you could add on to your previous statement you were cut off by your phone's ringtone. The three of you shared a knowing look before you answered, "Hello?"

"I want to see you," Taehyung said softly as he paced his office staring at the sunset outside his 100th floor window view. You let out a dramatic sigh, "I don't even get a hello back?"

Your two friends scooted closer in curiosity making you try and wave them off. They stuck to you like glue. Taehyung smiled a little on his end, "Hello sweetheart, how's your day going?"

"Oh," you couldn't help to smile as your friend silently gagged at the sweetness, "Pretty boring, nothing to do."

Taehyung bit his lip in thought, "Well I can change that, how does dinner at my place sound?"

"What time?" You asked looking to your friends whose faces lit up at the proposition. They were well rounded gossips.

Taehyung checked the time, "I'll be off in about an hour or so... I'm not sure let's say 7:00?"

You groaned, feeling bored being at Jungkook's with nothing to do, dressed to impress, you needed to do something now, "But I want to see you now."

At that Yoongi rolled his eyes at your impatience but without missing a beat Taehyung offered up, "Well if you want you can come down to my office and wait with me here. We'll go back to mine and have dinner together."

"Okay," you began sitting up, "Then I'll see you in a bit?"

You said your goodbyes and Yoongi laughed. He pointed his pinky up as he mocked you with Jungkook, "Oh you both are so whipped for each other."

"Whatever, someone take me to Taehyung's office," you said already gathering your things expecting someone to drive you without saying please or asking nicely. With a huff Yoongi stood, "I'll drop you off on my way to Jina's. Let's go."

"Wait so you're both leaving me?" Jungkook asked looking back at the two as they rounded toward the door. You waved goodbye and you left with Yoongi.

To say the front desk receptionists were complete taken aback as you stormed into the lobby would be an understatement. From your kitten heels to the mini tennis skirt and fitted cropped knit sweater and the dangle gold earrings. Your hair was pinned back by a hair clip and your lips shined with gloss, you stuck out like a sore thumb in the gray lobby.

You displayed a perfect smile as you approached the front desk, "Hi I'm here to see Kim Taehyung if you don't mind letting him know Y/n L/n is here."

The woman nodded giving you one more look before dialing a number. You heard her talk on the phone, look back at you, nod her head and hang up. She forced a smile on her face, "I'm sorry but his secretary has informed me he's extremely busy today, maybe if you set an appointment you can come back."

You mimicked her smile, "Is that so? Alright, give me one moment." The woman's fake smile didn't falter as you took your phone out and called someone.

"Hey, are you almost here?" Taehyung asked staring down the empty hall where his secretary typed away on her computer.

"I'm downstairs actually," you told him looking back at the receptionist, "But apparently you're extremely busy so I should schedule an appointment to see you another day. Is this how I’m going to be treated every time I come?”

Her smile faltered. There's no way you, dressed the way you were, would be on the phone with her big bad boss who never had any women visit him in the office aside from family. Taehyung's brows furrowed, "Give me a moment I'll come down and get you."

You hung up with an innocent smile on your face as you and the receptionist had a staring contest. Only a couple minutes later did Taehyung reach the lobby and walked over to the front desk.

He pulled you into a hug as he kissed your cheek in greeting. Taehyung looked at the receptionist who looked completely taken back as he wrapped an arm around your waist, "If you don't mind putting her name down just so Y/n won't have to wait down here again."

"Yes of course sir, my apologies," the reception fumbled for a second as she rushed to do as told. Taehyung led you to the elevator and you turned sending the two front desk clerks a perfect wink before disappearing around the corner.

Once in the privacy of the elevator Taehyung pulled you into him. His mouth found yours giving you the second kiss you've had since you met. You were caught off guard but welcomed the action with arms around his neck pulling him closer. He pressed you into the mirrored wall cupping your face in both hands as his brows scrunched together in bliss.

The only thing to pull you away is the final ding of the elevator and you quickly rushed to wipe off your lip gloss from the corners of his mouth. Straight at the end of the wide hall was his office, his secretary posted just outside his door.

She looked over to you two as Taehyung led you down to his office. An idea sparking in your head as you stopped directly in front of her desk, "So, what were you so busy with that I wouldn’t even be able to see you unless I set an appointment?”

Immediately the secretary shrunk behind her computer. Taehyung stood in confusion as he tried to think about it. Turning to his secretary, "Miss Yoona, did the lobby call you a few minutes ago?”

She stood up, "Yes sir, my apologies I'd seen you on your desktop and thought you were in a video conference." You could see her lying through her teeth.

In truth everyone had been confused. You, the way you looked, did not make sense for someone to have business with Kim Taehyung. You don't even seem like his type to them. Taehyung didn't say anything for a moment before taking your hand in his, "Well next time, even if I'm in a meeting let Y/n through. She can always just wait in my office. Don't make the same mistake twice, alright?"

"Yes sir."

You smiled being dragged into his office and immediately threw your arms around him. He lifted you up a little kissing you harder than before. Your relationship had evolved since the last time you saw each other but he wasn't going to forget everything else. He set you back down, "I've just got a few emails to send and then we can head out."

It took about forty minutes for Taehyung to finish up and then the two of you were leaving for the day.

This was the first time you stepped into his apartment looking around and taking everything in. Taehyung was already in the kitchen taking out pots and pans. He rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up and was glancing up at you now and then as you wandered around, "You gonna help me cook tonight?"

"No," you said simply, "I don't know how to."

"You can always learn," Taehyung shrugged as he rinsed some vegetables, "Come here."

You whined, "Tae I'll burn your kitchen down."

"You'll just dice," Taehyung told you sliding a cutting board and nice across the island toward you, "Come on Y/n, we're doing this together."

"Then let's go out to eat, I don't want to dice."

He sent you a look as he waited patiently. Sensing his sudden authoritative behavior you crossed your arms in front of your chest, "You're the one who wanted to cook, not me."

"Yes honey, you're right, but I figured it's something we can do together and you can learn something too," he told you softly. You rolled your eyes, "I don't want to learn anything. I'm fine not knowing how to cook. And if you're going to be like this then I'll just leave."

There you go again. He's learned another thing about you though he really only notices it when you're in a room together. It was that you took the easy way out. Any sign of work or difficulty made you want to give up and he didn't appreciate that. All because he's asking you to spend some quality time cooking together [something you don't want to do] now you want to leave. Sensing his change in demeanor you tried a new tactic.

You wrapped your arms around his waist as he began to cut some steak, "Come on Taehyungie, I'm no good in the kitchen anyway."

"Well you don't even try," he said but he's not sure if he's talking in regards to the cooking or to your unlabeled relationship. You planted a soft kiss on his neck, "Then let's skip dinner and you can see me try and make it up to you in other ways."

He let out a sigh, "Not tonight."

          "I hate him."

"Sure you do," Jungkook chuckled as he dug into his lunch, "Why do you hate him this time?"

"I've never met a man who doesn't want to have sex," you said honestly. You sat with your two best friends in a private section for lunch. The restaurant sat you in a secluded booth hidden behind an aquarium wall.

You sounded desperate but you didn't care. You've never met a guy who turns down your advances and you hated that. If he could just give you what you want, that'd be great. Yoongi shrugged as he said, "Maybe he's trying to actually connect with you before having sex."

"Why?" You asked, "I'm already into him, he's into me, I don't get it. I'm not asking him to prove he likes me."

"Yes but maybe he's just not the type of guy to sleep with someone until he's sure of them," Yoongi added watching both you and Jungkook stare at him in confusion.

"Think about it, you say you had a rough start with each other because of the first date and all. Maybe he wants to prove he's genuinely interested in going out with you but he wants to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into with him too," Yoongi told you, "He's making you work for it by making you wait. I told you he's right for you, the only guy to never give in to you right away."

"He's a better man than me," Jungkook joked as he stuffed his mouth with food, "The second Y/n complains I do whatever it takes to shut her up." You hit his arm and he laughed.

You shook your head at what Yoongi was telling you, "Well I don't like it."

"When do you see him again?" Jungkook asked you.

"Tonight, we're going out for drinks with a couple of his friends but it's weird. He hasn't even asked me to be his girlfriend yet but treats me like one. I don't get him at all."

"You should make him jealous," Jungkook told you with a shrug of his shoulders as Yoongi shook his head in disapproval, "I bet that'll make him move quicker."

So, despite knowing you should listen to what Yoongi had said over lunch, you went with Jungkook's idea.

You and Taehyung were currently at the lounge bar he was meeting his friends at. You sat in a booth with his arm around you as he talked with his friends.

You were bored of their conversation about stocks. You couldn't stop thinking about what Jungkook had said. Taehyung's being super unfair to you. He makes you think he has feelings for you then does things like refuse to sleep with you all because you told him you weren't going to help him cook.

You didn't care if it made you sound desperate or easy. You knew what you wanted and that was him so what gives him the right to make you work for it?

Taehyung watched you stand up abruptly, his arm falling away from you, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get myself a drink," you told him not waiting for him to respond before you left.

"So how's it going in La La Land with the princess?" Jimin asked Taehyung as he watched you disappear through the crowd to the bar. Taehyung turned back to face his friends, "Can you refrain from making comments like that? We're fine."

"You know, I've always heard she's difficult," Jin added making Taehyung glare at him.

"Y/n's not difficult," he told them all, "She's just young and has some maturing to do. She's actually very sweet and easy to talk to when you get to know her."

It's true, he genuinely believes it but he also knows how hard it could be to deal with you when you're on your high horse. That's the only reason he hasn't put into words how badly he wants to make it official with you. He doesn't think you're ready for the sort of commitment he's willing to give. If he's with you he's not going to just give you whatever you want because you're acting out. He's not going to let you take the easy way out. He's going to make you communicate your needs and wants to him and help you separate them.

You might want everything in the world [and he'll give it to you] but not if you snap at him anytime he does something you don't like. The way you got irritated when he refused to skip dinner and have fun with you instead had been comical. He'd been two seconds away from ditching it all together till you snapped at him and stormed out of his apartment. When he called you later that night all you said in regards to dinner and storming off was, 'Well nobody can make me do something I don't want to do.'

"I'm gonna go check on Y/n," Taehyung muttered after checking the time. You'd been gone for a while now and he went straight to the bar to find you.

When he couldn't see you he had to walk around a bit wondering if you'd gotten lost in the thick crowd of people. He hadn't expected to find you with someone else.

Taehyung stood back watching feeling a slight tinge of something in his chest. His jaw clenched at the sight of your hand on the guy's arm. His mind did not stray elsewhere as he stormed over to where you were, not uttering out a single word.

The guy you were talking to glares up at him at the sudden change in air with his arrival. He chuckled, "Mind backing off man? I'm talking here."

You didn't say anything staring at Taehyung as he stood directly in front of the stranger you’ve been chatting with. He had stopped you on your way back to the table with your drink and he fell as your perfect victim. You were going to listen to what Jungkook said and make him jealous. Taehyung's eyes bored into the guy's, "It'd be better if you walk away."

"Oh come on Tae," you smiled feigning innocence, "We were just talking."

"Whoa are you two together?" The guy asked looking back to you. At the same time both you and Taehyung answered him.

"Yes."

"No."

The guy chuckled, "Alright so you're not?"

"Not that I know of," you shrugged knowing that Taehyung was staring at you now. You were getting under his skin and you liked it, maybe then he'll stop being so nonchalant and give you a reaction.

Taehyung smiled, "Fine Y/n, if you want to stand here and talk to him then I'll give you exactly what you want and leave you to it."

He walked away.

It took you a total of .03 seconds to chase after him in regret, "Tae wait—"

"No, you want to act like a little girl fine by me but I won't keep taking it," he didn't stop, "You want to talk to other guys and say we aren't together, whatever I won't keep trying since you clearly aren't."

"You haven't asked me to be your girlfriend."

"Because I don't have to!" Taehyung snapped at you over the loud music, "We're adults Y/n. We go on dates, we kiss and hug and talk on the phone all fucking day. We're very public too, everyone knows we're together but you."

"You want me to give in to everything you want but when I ask you for something you can't do it," Taehyung scoffed. He was annoyed now and he needed some space. He was making his way over to the empty hall where the restrooms would be, you still hot on his trail. This was the first time you’ve ever heard him snap.

"I ask you to go to an event with me and you complain you don't have the right dress so we go out and get you one," he started to list off his reasons, "I want to enjoy the night with you but because you're in a bad mood we don't talk at all through that night."

"I call and tell you I'd like to have dinner together and you say you don't cook. You say you don't want to have quality time with me," Taehyung said, "Then you storm off and tell me over the phone that nobody is going to make you do what you don't want to do."

"You're the one who's not trying to be in a relationship with me," Taehyung said, "From the very beginning. So just give me some space right now."

You didn't listen following him into the men's washroom not caring if anyone was in there. Thankfully for you, there wasn't. It was a fancy bathroom with cement walls separating each stall and when he turned to glare at you, you pushed him into one. He looked taken back as he hit the wall. You stood in front of him, "I want to be with you."

He didn't say anything. You let out a sigh before continuing, "I want to be with you Taehyung but you just make me so mad when you don't give me what I want."

"So what is that you want?" Taehyung asked slightly turned on by way you just pushed him up against the wall despite your smaller stature. The fact you were going to express to him your needs instead of just getting mad at him for not giving in right away. He liked that. He wanted to communicate.

You stomped your heeled foot softly, "I want you. I want to be with you but you're so mean."

"How?" Taehyung asked, "Because I don't let you walk all over me? Because I don't give you everything you want right away? Because I genuinely want us to work? Tell me what you want and I'll do it right now... but only if you tell me with words instead of just expecting me to know."

"I want you..." you repeated in a whisper making him sigh. Without another word, you watched him drop to his knees on the surprisingly clean floor.

"You want me?" Taehyung asked double checking, "Fine, I'll give you what you want but I don't want to hear you whine that it's too much.

His fingers ran over the waist of your dress and you nodded in excitement. Finally, finally, he was going to just give you what you've wanted since the first time you saw him even if you would never admit it. Taehyung was sliding his hand under your fitted mini dress groaning already, "Are you serious?"

"What?" You asked biting your lip as he glared up at you. He shook his head, his hand feeling your bare pussy, "You're not wearing any underwear and you wanted to talk to other guys tonight? Seriously?"

"I wanted to make you jealous," you said honestly, a gasp leaving your lips when his hand swiped between your folds, "So that you could g—give me what I wanted."

"And this is what you wanted?" He pulled your dress up scooting closer so that his face was only centimeters away from your parted legs. One of his hands held your waist while the other worked to separate your legs. He collected wetness from your entrance and used it to rub your clit, your knees twitched with the wave of warmth that came over you, "Yes, please."

You leaned back against the stall's wall and placed your hand on his head to brace yourself so you could guide him to where you needed him most. All those times he's been stern with you have done nothing but get under your skin and leave you turned on. He laughed, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder.

He laughed, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. "You're a needy little thing, aren't you?" He chuckled, "that's fine. I'll give you what you want but don't get used to it." Your head fell back against the wall as his lips met your centre, he started off with small kitten licks keeping a tight grip on your thigh as it rested on his shoulders. He was teasing in the way he barely licked at your entrance and before you could tell at him that you wanted more he pulled your clit into his mouth. Your lips drew apart in a quiet moan as he toyed with your clit using his tongue to swirl it around. His lips sucked around it, the tip of his tongue hitting the tip of your clit as he made you grind against his face.

Your hands pushed his head closer to you, Taehyung eagerly sucking on your clit as his free hand began to swiped along your folds. He pushed the tip of his middle finger into your entrance while his mouth worked your sensitive spot. He looked up at you, his mouth never giving up, as he watched your body ripple in waves of pleasure that only he could give you. His mouth went back to your clit and his middle finger crooked upwards to rub your G-spot. A second finger quickly joined the first as you moaned, "Tae, please, I want more."

Neither one of you seemed to care about the fact that you were in the men's washroom. He let out another chuckle at your whine as he lifted his head, "you gotta be quiet baby or else I stop."

You grunted in frustration, "Then give me more." He shook his head and pulled away again, "What did I say? You aren't going to boss me around Y/n, now take what I give you and bring your voice down."

He smiled when you shied back into his touch, "Good girl," he said smacking your clit lightly in praise. He went back to his task in earnest, paying careful attention to your body as he went on. He felt you fluttered around him and it only made him work quicker. He was now fully kneeled between your legs, his mouth gliding over to your wet cunt leaving open mouth kisses against your heat. His fingers working overtime feeling you shudder and his tongue lapped up whatever slick his fingers pushed out of you.

Feeling your walls begin to crumble you pulled on his hair, "So close." And just like that, just those two words and he is pulling away despite your cries.

He stood up on his feet pulling your dress down for you as you fought against his hold, "Stop Y/n, look at me."

"Why? I was so close!" You whined kicking your foot in a fit. Taehyung opened the door looking out to make sure nobody was there. He's sure people heard you two but as long as they didn't see your faces he didn't care. He pulled you out, "Because of your little stunt you did to make me jealous. If you want me to give you what you want then I gotta know I'm getting something too."

"This isn't going to be a one sided relationship," he told you leading you out the restroom, "And I want you to be my girlfriend but I need you to know that you won't always get what you want. I want to give you the world Y/n, I really do, but only if you show me that you're willing to make sacrifices for me too."

"I will!" You said as he cut through the crowds of people making a beeline to the door, "But I was so close!"

"You think you deserved it? You think you can flirt with other guys in my face and it'll get you what you want with no consequences?" He asked turning to you for a quick moment, "I'm sorry baby but that's not how it works."

"Are we leaning?" You asked, the wetness between your legs getting uncomfortable as your orgasm had been taken from you just moments ago, "What about your friends?"

namjoon: u ditched us but I'm sure u got a good reason ;)

So evidently, he's reminded yet again of two things.

The first? That you were a huge brat who threw a big fit in the car for being left mid orgasm in the bathroom and dragged out.

Second, that you did in fact always get what you want.

"Y/N, you can't be serious..." He wanted to say but he couldn't. Not with you playfully nipping the erection through his clothes and making a whimper escape his lips in the process. "Y/N...fuck, can't you just wait? You're always so... needy."

You pulled down his pants and boxershorts, his hard cock springing upwards - only inches away from your face. You didn't care if the two of you were currently in the elevator on the way up to your floor. Luckily, you lived in a penthouse which meant there was a lot of time waiting in the elevator. Instantly, you placed your lips around his tip when he made no physical effort to stop you, making him close his eyes and breathe deeply. He didn't actually want you to stop, he liked that you took what you wanted especially if it was him.

"Baby, please..." Taehyung began to softly pet your head, before he couldn't stand the pressure anymore - he'd ball a fist in your hair, pulling your mouth closer to thrust into it. Your tongue circled around his head licking down the vein on the underside of his hard length. His head was thrown back, taking it all in, or well, having you take it all in. He can't imagine being in this situation with someone else. He can't imagine [doesn't want to] you doing this with someone else. He was the one for you the same as you were the one for him.

"Fuck..." he whispered as he heared you try to surpress your gag reflex, his cock being way too big for being shoved your throat. Looking up at the floor number making sure there was still time and also praying nobody came in. You didn't care,you'd keep on going, head moving up and down fast until he was satisfied.

You looked up as you clenched your fingers around his member, while still enthusiastically sucking him as if you wanted to milk him dry. The way you looked at him made him want to cover that pretty face of yours into his cum and let you know exactly who's in charge in the bedroom—or elevator?

That none of those other guys that have been able to handle your attitude know what to do with you. That only he will be the one to give you what you want and need.

"Wait!" he panted. "God, Y/N... wait!"

Ding.

You were on your floor. Before the doors opened you were helping him tuck himself back into his jeans and he was urging you out of the elevator. His hand on your lower back as his body walked closely behind yours. "Oh, you're such a brat," was his firm response to the whole fiasco, as he watched you swipe your key card. He began to fondle your breasts turning you in his arms to face him as you entered your apartment. He pushed you against the wall and you could feel his hard on against your stomach as he wrapped your legs around his waist hoisting you up.

"Where?" He asked pressing his lips against yours. You pointed toward your bedroom and he was taking off in that direction. The  kiss was needy, hungry and full of want from the both of you. Taehyung set you down on the bed never once taking his mouth off you as he crawled over you. He was tugging on your dress at the ends until a clear tearing sound was heard. You bit your lip helping him shake you from the confines of fabric while pulling on the buttons of his shirt until it split open.

"You couldn't wait the two minutes it took to get here?" He asks groping at your exposed chest. You'd gone without a bra or underwear so when he tore into the dress it was like opening a present. His pants are uncomfortably tight with need as he buried his face into your breasts.

"Such a fucking brat," he exhales, tugging a nipple roughly between his teeth as his hand squeezed the soft flesh, "You know it too. Always know how to get what you want."

"I know," you said, grinning in anticipation as your hands traveled along his back, "But you like it."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, his fingers find your little clit between your legs still sensitive from his earlier ministrations where he left you high and dry—or wet in this case.

"I do," he groaned loving the way your face contorts with the pleasure he's giving you, "I love it so fucking much baby. Makes me wanna out you in your place."

"Then do it... Daddy," you bit your lip as the words left your mouth. He froze for a second, the word sending a ripple of arousal down his body. You were his baby and now you were calling him that. His little brat. But you've just made a huge mistake addressing him as such. His thumb speeds up. Your hands tighten around his shoulder, your head pressed against your pillows as your mouth drew open in a moan as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. His lips pressed against yours in a hungry kiss that had you so close to the edge.

And then again, he stops. You whine out in outrage, eyes flying open as you stomped around on your bed, "Oh my god! Taehyung!"

"Nuh uh," he tsks. "Let's try it again, what's my name?"

You turned away from him in disobedience. His free hand cupped your chin forcing you to look at him, "Be a good girl and tell me what's my name."

You bit into your tongue to keep you from calling him as such since he'd just ruined your orgasm for a second time. Instead, you snuck your hand between your bodies and went to your own core only for the hand that had been playing with your pussy to stop you. He's going to fuck you, no question about it, but do you deserve it after everything you've put him through?

"I'm gonna tell you this," he gripped your wrist watching you squirm, "If you don't behave, you don't get to cum. So listen to daddy, alright?"

"No," you said defiantly and it made your cunt leak as you continued to disobey. His dark expression didn't falter, "Listen here you little brat. If you want me to give you what you want then you're going to cooperate. This isn't going to be one way."

You still refused. It wasn't until you felt him begin to retract did you claw at him, "Wait Taehyung, plea—"

"Nuh uh. Don't call me Taehyung," he warned, "Don't get shy on me now. What did you call me earlier?"

Finally giving up on the attitude you let out a sigh. "... Please, daddy. I promise I'll be good."

That makes his insides melt, tugging down his jeans and briefs he kicks them off freeing the hardened cock you'd been teasing in the elevator. He grasps your chin softly this time and leans in, kissing your nose affectionately. "Good girl."

He lines himself up with your entrance and gently, he pushed in. You both should have probably checked for protection but in the heat of the moment it slipped from your minds. You'd both been only talking to each other for weeks and you were loyal to it and so was he. He waits a moment for your walks to stop tightening around him attempting to push him back out. Once your body is used to his girth, with a hold on your hips he drags himself out and in one go thrusts forward.

"Mmm," he groans into your neck, his body pressed against roughly against his as his hips began a steady pace thrusting into you, "So tight baby, am I making you feel good?"

"S-so good daddy," you moaned hiding your face in his neck as well letting your tongue lick along his skin, "But I wanna cum. 'M gonna cu—"

It wasn't your fault. You'd been worked up since the club and considering you haven't been with anyone else and he's refused to fuck you till now you're beyond frustrated. It made you turn sweet.  "I'm sorry," you huff. "For being a brat and mouthing off and being bad... Or whatever but I wanna cum, please!"

"Not yet baby," he growled knowing that if you came now he'd have to get out and he was having too much fun fucking you right now. But the second he told you no it's like your switch flipped again. You had been sweet so he gives you what you want and he's still keeping it from you.

"You can't tell me when I can and can't cum," you said rolling your eyes and bucking your hips quicker, "I can do whatever I want."

With a deep grunt he snuck his hand under your arched back forcing you off the bed. Your legs hugged his waist as he sat you down on his thighs sitting on his haunches for support. Like that his hands gripped the roundness of your ass and lifted you up, "Oh you can? Let me hear it then. Say it again."

You tried to sink onto his cock again but his hold was tight keeping you from doing so. You were whining now as you wiggled, "Tae!"

Smack.

You jumped as he slapped your ass making sure you don't get more than just his tip, "Come on say it. Say you can do whatever you want and let's see if that's true."

"Ta—" Smack.

You groaned now close to tears as he kept you from cumming until finally, you listened.

"Please daddy," you cupped his face making him look at your rounded eyes, "Please I need you."

Mmm. He was crumbling, his cock twitched at the softness of your touch. So sweet and caring, you really were. His sweet girl.

"You need me?" He grunts, letting you slide down his length slowly. "Thought I couldn't tell you when you can and can't cum?"

"Please, please, please," you whimper, "Please, daddy, I need you." He liked that. He liked that it wasn't you wanting him like you want other things. It was you needing him.

"God, I love you," he confesses breathlessly, bouncing you on his cock letting you take control of the speed and force. He hasn't meant to say it but it slipped out and he would never take back something that was true. Especially not when it had you screaming as he held you down taking his entire length rutting into you back and forth hitting every nerve in your pussy making you see stars. You didn't even give a warning as you came undone impaled on his cock.

His eyes squeezed shut urging every muscle in his body to hold back from cumming in your tight walls feeling you tremble in his bare hug. And just when he thought you were finished, you pried his hands off you scooting out of his grip and falling into the bed. He had no time to process it as you made your way over and swallowed his hard dick in your mouth.

He grunts, low and animalistic in when he cums. A hand in your hair as you swallowed load after load of thick, creamy release in your mouth.

"Holy shit," he gasped out releasing your hair carefully as he swallowed back heaves of air panting. His hair was stuck to his face from sweating and he looked down at you breathing through his mouth. You were sliding your lips off his softening cock as his hand combed your hair back affectionately. You licked at the corners of your mouth where a little bit of cum has dribbled out and stared up at him.

Without thinking he leaned forward for a kiss dropping you back down onto your back. He fell on to your side caressing your face as his eyes locked with yours, "Do you know what this means?"

"What?" You asked looking back at him. Your eyes fluttered shut when he placed soft kisses on your neck.

"This means, I'm your boyfriend," he muttered hugging your stomach, "If you'll have me that is. If you don't think I'm too mean."

"I do think you're too mean," you told him honestly wrapping a hand around the arm thrown over your stomach, "But I like it and I like you. Does this mean we're dating?"

"We have been dating," he tells you snuggling further into you, "But this is me trying to make it official honey."

        By morning you woke up a little earlier than him. You shook him until he was rolling off you with a grunt and it took more effort to wake him.

"Baby," he whined rolling back onto you, "Sleep just a little longer."

"I'm not tired," you said sitting up shaking him, "Come on wake up."

He could hear the attitude in your voice but he refused. You leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Please daddy?"

His eyes shot open looking back to you as you feigned innocence through your eyes. You smiled, "Let's get showered and then have breakfast."

"I don't want to go out for breakfast, I just want to stay in," he sighed finally trying to wake up a little.

"Please?" You asked again, "I want you to teach me how to make pancakes."

"You want to cook?" He looked visibly taken back. This is not how your last conversation on cooking went. You nodded your head laughing a little at how clearly confused he seemed.

You see. You weren't always a brat. You were sweet and gentle after you got what you wanted. And he'll always give it to you even if he makes you work for it. He smirked pointing at his cheek, "Give me a kiss here and I'll be up."

Doing one better, you kissed him softly on the lips making his heart race. Oh god you were hot and cute at the same time. He can already tell his future with you would be exciting, and now he has someone to introduce his grandparents to.

"Okay let's go shower."

::.

this is 100% Tae in the first car scene after the banquet when he told Y/n no

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[jeonscatalyst]

About the ham/pink sausage thing I'd love to know if you think bucking up at ur partner(Assuming jkk are couple or have romantic feelings for e/o) like that in front of other ppl can happen btw couples...... friends? Yes. Siblings? Yes. But couples? I wonder......if my partner does that (jk was kinda pissed because they questioned his knowledge of food or wtv that is) in front of other ppl I'd feel disrespectful maybe not by siblings and friends but definitely by my partner. Of course i don't believe any of the members have that kinda nature where they hit someone that's completely false I believe that. Can you imagine you and your partner in their place? Your partner bucking up at you like that in public? You won't feel disrespected? And i know you'll say jk was joking, he joked when he did it second time but the first time was his honest reaction. It irritated him that they didn't belive he was right.

Hi anon,

Short answer to your question is yes, it can happen. I’ve seen so many people give so many takes about the pink sausage/ham moment but I refrained from saying anything about it until I got my thoughts in order. So many times when people judge other’s actions they look at it from a perspective that they are used to or through a particular lens that makes sense to them forgetting that in this big world with over 7 billion people, there are different people, different cultures and ways of life so what might mean one thing to you, might mean something else to a different person.

I don’t understand why that was a big deal to people ( I mean I do kinda but…) because anyone who has watched even one kdrama or knows even a little bit about Koreans in general knows that koreans do that alot when they are mad or irritated. They buck at other people like they are going to hit them with no intention of actually hitting them. Parents do it to kids, siblings do it to each other and even people in seasoned relationships relationships do it as well. Jk wasn’t going to hit Jimin, that’s for sure. It’s just that was a knee jerk reaction at that point and from the reactions of Tae and Jimin, that wasn’t something Jungkook did often because Jimin didn’t seem used to it judging from his reaction.

I understand what you mean about feeling disrespected especially if that is something that happens in public but I doubt some koreans will see it that way mostly because it is something they are used to. Plus, sometimes people could be intentionally or unintentionally disrespectful to their partners, that isn’t news.

While that moment left a bad taste in some people’s mouths, I actually found it cute….not necessarily because Jungkook bucked at Jimin but because when you watch that scene, you notice that Tae was the one who started saying it was ham and he was also the one who kept insisting it was while Jimin only said it once but that one time Jimin said it was the only time Jungkook doubted himself about it. I also found it interesting that even though Tae was the one who repeatedly insisted that it wasn’t pink sausage, we only saw Jk’s emotions towards Jimin and nothing towards Tae. Now, most people whom I like to call shallow or fickle would rejoice at the fact that Tae didn’t react to Tae who was the instigator but reacted to Jimin who only said it once but to anyone who understands human emotions and knows a little bit of something about life, that single moment right there was more than enough to tell whom among the two Jungkook is emotionally closer to.

That moment to me will go down in history as one of the biggest moments that showed just how close and comfortable Jikook are with each other.

Typically, you are more likely to get annoyed at someone you are closer to because you have more expectations of them than the ones you are not as close to. There is also an emotional investment. Being closer to someone usually means you care more about their opinions and actions so when they do something that bothers you, it impacts you more deeply. You generally also feel more comfortable expressing or showing your frustration at someone you feel closest to because your relationship with them feels secure so you are not worried about how you might come off because you both know each other extremely well, while with a friend you are not as close to, you tend to be more forgiving or less affected by their behavior because your emotional investment is lower, and your expectations might not be as high. Anyone who watches that clip would wonder why on earth Jk only expressed his annoyance at Jimin and not Tae who actually started and instigated the whole thing and this is not to say Taekook aren’t close because we know they are but Jikook just have an insanely deeper emotional connection and bond.

Some people think Jungkook was just joking but I think he was truly annoyed and maybe even a little hurt, and his annoyance (though might sound abit silly) probably came from the fact that he expected Jimin to side with him but Jimin didn’t or expected Jimin to trust his judgement more. To so many people it might have just been a silly argument about ham and pink sausage bit to Jungkook, it was probably more and some might to relate or understand his annoyance but that doesn’t mean his feelings about the whole thing shouldn’t be respected.

Jimin’s reaction was also very telling and even though he handled things in a funny and dramatic way, I think Jungkook’s actions shocked him to a certain extent and he probably felt bad about it but he must have understood at some point why Jungkook reacted so intensely. Jimin’s actions also shows how much he knows and is emotionally close to Jungkook because if that were another person, Jimin would have probably cussed them out but he had this extra patience with Jungkook probably because he understood why Jungkook got like that. Compare the way Tae reacted after Jungkook made a statement about him being weak to Jimin’s reaction. One of them was clearly the reaction of a friend (Tae straight up warned Jungkook not to take things far else someone would see blood) but Jimin’s reaction was more….emotional. Jungkook’s reaction in the two cases too were telling. With Tae he was quick to say “yes sir” when Tae called him out but with Jimin, he didn’t look like he was ready to let go of the annoyance yet and even after they finished eating he kept glaring at Jimin till Jimin apologized.

Reminds me of that Live from May 2019 in Newjersey where Jimin and Jin turned off the Live before Jk arrived and Jk was so pissed he went to start his own Live. All Jin had to do to get Jk’s forgiveness was apologize once while Jimin had to follow him to his room apologizing yet Jk still didn’t let him off easy. These are things that could seem very trivial to people but that shows you that Jungkook might just have more expectations when it comes to Jimin while he doesn’t really get that affected by other’s actions. The rainy day story is also a good example that shows how Jimin’s opinions affect Jungkook differently. He has mentioned so many times that he tries to emulate Jimin’s actions so that already says alot about how much he values Jimin’s opinions and how much expectations he generally has when it comes to him so when he feels disappointed, it just triggers a more emotional response. It also gets a little weirder when you remember that Jimin is actually Jungkook’s hyung which means that Jimin could have easily scolded him like Tae did with Jk realizing that he had just been disrespectful to someone older and ready to apologize yet that is not the reaction we got from them at all.

So anon, I can see why you would see things the way you do but you always have to consider context and the context here would be that, different things are acceptable in different cultures or societies and things have different meanings to different people. And yes, if Jimin is Jungkook’s lover he might have felt disrespected sometimes things like that happen in relationships anyway so it’s nothing new imo.

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (2)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!

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Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.

“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”

I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.

Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.

The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.

This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.

“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”

I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”

He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”

That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.

“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”

That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.

It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.

I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.

I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.

Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.

The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.

“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”

Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.

“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”

I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”

In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.

I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.

“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”

I could physically feel the mood lighten.

“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”

“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”

Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."

“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.

“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.

“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.

“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.

“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.

“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”

As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.

“Damn, these are nice.”

Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.

“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”

“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”

Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.

I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.

I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.

He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.

Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.

Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.

“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”

I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”

“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”

Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.

“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."

I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”

The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.

“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.

I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”

Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.

Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.

“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.

The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.

“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”

I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”

Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.

“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”

Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.

“What time are we getting your car?”

I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.

“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.

“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”

This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.

“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”

“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”

A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.

Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.

“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”

I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”

With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”

Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.

“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.

“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”

Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”

Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.

“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”

Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.

“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”

He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”

I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.

“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.

I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”

He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”

“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”

Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”

No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.

I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”

“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”

As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.

We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.

“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”

I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.

“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”

The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.

“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”

“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”

I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.

“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”

I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.

“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”

Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.

“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”

I shook my head, “What about you?”

He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.

“I’ll be alright.”

I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.

“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”

I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”

Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”

I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.

“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.

“I’m getting there,” I replied.

Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.

“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.

“You can leave,” I told him.

“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.

The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.

The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.

I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.

As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.

Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.

“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”

“Who?” I was even more confused.

“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."

Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.

“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”

Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.

“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.

“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”

I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?

“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”

Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.

“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”

“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”

Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.

“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”

“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”

James laughed, “I will remember that.”

The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.

“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”

Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.

I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.

“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”

A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.

“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”

I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.

“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.

“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.

There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.

“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.

The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.

The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.

“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”

She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”

Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.

Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?

During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.

I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.

The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.

Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.

The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.

It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.

The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.

In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.

I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.

Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”

I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”

She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”

“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”

I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.

“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”

I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”

It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.

“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”

I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.

“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.

“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”

Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.

“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”

I chuckled, “That bad?”

Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”

I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”

She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”

We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.

“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”

I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”

“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”

Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”

After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.

Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.

I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.

It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.

“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”

Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.

“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.

“Sleep okay?”

I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.

“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”

He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.

“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”

I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”

He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”

He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.

“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.

I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”

“You got it, coach.”

I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.

My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.

The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.

“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”

I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.

As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.

He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.

“Why?” He was incredulous.

“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”

He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”

I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”

“But-”

“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”

He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”

I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”

“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.

He was cute when he was mad.

“Humor me,” I replied. “We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”

Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.

“I can live with that.”

I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”

As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.

“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”

At least he was self-aware, I thought.

“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”

He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.

“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”

We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.

“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”

I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.

“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”

Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.

“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”

I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.

“Will someone else be with you?”

“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”

“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.

“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”

I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”

Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.

Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.

“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”

His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.

“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”

“Sure, coach.”

When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.

Me: I think I’m crushing on Park

Me: Help me get rid of it

The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.

Hobi: HAHAHAHA

Hobi: Sex is always the answer

Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar

I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[7ndipity]

Bts mlt to date a single parent

Thanks for requesting this! Please bear in mind that this is just my opinions and I'm open to your thoughts on this as well!💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Most

Hobi

Yoongi

Taehyung

Namjoon

Jin

Jimin

Jungkook

Least

Hobi - Tae: Idk why Hobi was the first one that came to mind, I just think he would be the most open/accepting of his S/o having a kid from a previous relationship, or at least the fastest to adjust and and really takes it in stride. Yoongi I think wouldn’t necessarily care, but not in a dismissive way, moreso that he likes who he likes, and if that person happens to have a kid? That’s totally fine. He would do his best to get to know them and be a positive presence in their life. Tae loves kids, so I think he would be pretty good in this kind of situation, but I definitely think he would have his worries/hesitations.

Joon - Jin: Joon used to really want kids, so I could see this sort of relationship reviving those old feelings, but he would have to work through some of his current anxieties and issues around relationships and kids first before he could fully commit to someone. Jin I think would feel a certain amount of pressure on himself and worry about doing the wrong thing, but once he gets to know the kid and finds their balance/dynamic, he would do really well.

Jimin - Jungkook: I think under the right circumstances, Jimin would be really great in this kind of relationship, he’s a very caring and nurturing person, but I think he would have a lot of nerves/anxieties and would worry about you a lot, especially considering the somewhat toxic attitude that Korea tends to have towards single parents. Likewise, with Jungkook, under the right circumstances I could see it working, but for the most part, I don’t see it happening rn. He’s still kinda young and I think he would struggle with finding his place/role in their lives.

Taglist:@sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[youaremycosmo]

《Too good to be true》 taemin x reader scenario

Taemin as the most-loving-cute-affectionate husband&dad nothing else to add enjoy!

cr. for the photos: Jjakgoongie Word count// 2,051 words Pairing// Taemin x you

Summary// Cute moments with Taemin as parents of newborn baby girl, Taerinnie. (btw Taemin would make endless jokes when you call him Tae, showing with his daughter and asking 'what?' in the same time as they both share the same syllabe in names XD)

Genre// fluff

Warnings// talking about lactation, if you don't like pregnancy/ parenthood scenarios just don't read this ^^

MASTERLIST You stirred in your sleep, absent-mindedly searching for Taemin who was supposed to lay in the bed next to you. He was usually there, that’s why you groaned under your breath and opened your eyes slightly, not feeling the familiar source of warmth next to you.

The bedding on his side was a little messy, which made you push yourself up on your hands, looking around. Light from the corridor streamed into the room through the slightly opened door, making you sure Tae hadn’t gone to the restroom.

You were so tired from getting up every two hours that you just put your head back on the pillow, with strong determination to wait until your husband come back. Then you wanted to just lock him into a bear hug and try to get some rest again. However, Taem didn't show up for a while, which forced you to finally get up from the bed.

You frowned as the light hit your eyes, sensitive from the darkness and took careful steps around the apartment. You catched a glimpse of your daughter’s room, sensing it could be the first place where Taemin went.

Taerinnie was born seven days ago, and your entire lives had been subordinated solely to her from the first moment. Your and Taem’s little sunshine needed a lot of care, which, combined with the exhaustion of pregnancy and childbirth, meant that you felt completely worn out all the time. Not to mention stress from being fledgling parents, afraid of every single thing happening around her.

Taemin, on the other hand, seemed filled with energy like never before. Smile never left his face, no matter how little he slept and how much he took over your household chores. Additionally, he never forgot to take care of you as well, praising you at least a few times a day. It seemed as if the expansion of your little family had practically given him wings, and you weren't surprised at all. As long as you could remember, for Tae there was always the right time to get married and have a baby, although seeing you didn't share his opinion, he never pressured you into anything.

You leaned carefully against the doorstep, noticing Taem sitting in your nursing chair with baby Taerin in his arms. You could only see a fragment of his profile, but clearly observe your little daughter, dressed in cute rompers and wrapped carefully in a light pink blanket. Her eyes, huge and dark, stared constantly at Taemin, and her adorable cheeks moved continuously as she sucked on the pacifier.

- Everything’s fine now, right? - a loving and warm voice broke the silence. - Did you just need a hug? It's okay, mommy and daddy will cuddle you as much as you want - he purred, rocking her delicately.

You smiled tenderly at the sight. There were times where you could see him taking care of children and how well he did it. But when it came to Taerin, he was simply the best dad you could imagine. Tae seemed to have infinite patience and enormous amounts of love, pouring it on his long-awaited daughter at every possible moment.

- We can't wake up mom every time, okay? - his fingertip touched her cute, tiny nose. - Mommy is very tired because she's feeding you and needs some sleep... But daddy can also take care of many things - Taemin’s voice sounded utterly satisfied. - You and I are a good team too - he chuckled softly to himself. You could see his cheeks lift into a smile as he stroked her little face gently, like a porcelain doll’s.

Taerinnie's eyes were becoming heavier and heavier each second, opening with difficulty, but she still listened calmly to what her dad had to tell her.

- How on earth did I deserve an angel like you, hmm? - Tae whispered pensively - I always thought that being with your mommy was like a dream come true, then I couldn't believe that mommy married me, and now… there’s you… I always knew you would be the most beautiful baby in the world, after all, you got it from y/n... She was so pretty when I fell in love with her, but why does she seem more gorgeous every day? - he titled his head a bit.

You felt as your cheeks flushed, and suddenly you felt shy standing there and listening to all of it. Taemin was always full of love, as if it was the first year of your relationship.

- You are like my two princesses... And I’m the one who loves you to death -Taem chuckled under his breath - Do you feel like sleeping already? - he asked, probably noticing how Taerinnie's eyelids finally drooped and her face became completely calm and carefree.

- Sleep well, you have to grow a lot - he pressed his lips on her forehead, observing her tiny body for a longer moment.

You moved away from the door, seeing him rise to put Taerinnie in her cradle. He made sure everything was fine, then turned off the light, carefully leaving the room.

- Oh, are you awake? - he asked, noticing you, obviously surprised.

- I woke up because you weren't in bed - you admitted cutely, walking up to Tae and just cuddling into him tightly.

- Taerinnie cried again - he explained himself and smiled fondly at your gesture, his arms embracing you strongly. - I decided not to wake you up because she didn't need to be fed... And we somehow managed to calm down on our own - Taemin said with satisfaction in his voice, and you glanced at him with a wide smile.

However, your eyes immediately went to the ends of his long hair that curled outwards. You reached for them carefully. - Taeminnie, your wings seem to be showing again - you muttered, teasing him a bit.

- Ah, come on -  he rolled his eyes with pink shade coming to his cheeks. He reached his hands to your thighs and lifted you up. - This baby needs to sleep too - he purred lovingly, carrying you to the bed.

You let him make you comfortable on the pillow and cover you thoroughly with the duvet before he laid down next to you. His arms pulled you completely to him, leaving little space, and you could feel his warm breath near your ear.

Before closing your eyes, you tried to adjust your nursing bra a little, annoyed at having to wear it all the time. You couldn’t help but sighed loudly when you saw a small wet spot on your t-shirt. Actually, it was his piece of pajamas as you loved wearing it to sleep.

- I can't deal with this, really - you mumbled under your breath. You rolled up the fabric and struggled to correct the pads, which allowed you to forget, at least for a moment, about the way your breasts leaked milk at the slightest touch. Your body changes were quite hard for you to accept, maybe because Taemin seemed to be doing better than ever and despite passing years, he was still so handsome and hot.

- I need to change - you decided, trying to get up, but his hands didn’t let you do it, keeping you in place.

- Stay, don’t mind it - Taem asked in a low voice, his thumbs rubbing your side soothingly. - You'll still be getting up to feed Taerin - he added, and the tone of his voice suddenly became more worried. - Is it still the same?

- I think as long as I continue to breastfeed, it’ll look like this - you grumbled, clearly uneasy. - It's just... instead of a wife, you're hugging a cow at this moment - you tried to joke, chuckling hesitantly.

Taemin, however, wasn’t amused. - Don't talk about yourself like that - he chastened you in a serious tone. - You are still the most beautiful woman in the world. The most charming person I know. The sexiest one too - his hand slid slowly to your hip, which had been noticeably more rounder for several months now. - It's just… you smell… sweeter - he murmured affectionately, snuggling closer to you.

You gave him a side glance. - You're weird, you know that? - you cracked up at this unusual compliment. 

Taem raised his head from the pillow, obviously outraged. - I'm just stating a fact, it's not weird - he hissed, lying down again immediately. 

- Like asking if you can try my breast milk, not weird at all - you teased him, closing your eyes. 

- Making sure Taerinnie likes it isn't weird either - Tae replied with confidence, but you could hear a slight laugh in his voice.

A comfortable silence fell between you as you tried to rest, knowing in the back of your mind that you’ll be woken up by crying again in an hour or two.

- I'm sorry -  his thoughtful whisper echoed in your ear, making you gently open your eyes. - I know... it's difficult for you and... well, I was the one who wanted to have a baby of the two of us, and the reality is you're the one who has to deal with everything...

- It was our mutual decision - you interrupted him, speaking without doubt. - You just wanted it earlier, but that doesn't mean you wanted to have a baby more than I did.

- Well, yes... - he sounded inconsolable. - But... I guess… I didn't really know what it would look like... I see how tired you are. I wish I could take at least half of this stuff from you, but I can't…- the tip of his nose rubbed your cheek. 

You decided to pull away slightly to look at him. - You actually do a lot of things to help me - you assured, looking into his concerned eyes. - And I'm grateful, really grateful, because I have your greatest support - you reached your hand to his cheek, stroking it tenderly.

- But... you're so damn tired  - he stated the obvious, biting his upper lip gently.

You smiled fondly and closed the space between yours and Tae’s lips, pecking them sweetly. Currently, you didn't even have the strength to kiss each other more passionately, so your affection was limited only to hugging and rather innocent kisses.

- I'm so damn tired, and I love you both so damn much - you admitted with amusement.

- Hey, how could you say something like that to Taerinnie…? - he groaned indignantly. - What example are you going to give if you swear like that?

You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath. - Okay, then I love you so damn much, and my love for Taerinnie is immeasurable - you muttered, annoyed by his comment. - Better?

- Better - Taem replied, satisfied with this answer.

- You actually have one task, one thing - you pointed your finger at him.

- What is this? - he stared at you with curious eyes. 

- Just try to look for a younger girl without stretch marks and breasts that don't leak milk all the time, I'll strangle you - you threatened him, and Taemin bursted out into laugh.

- Ah, what are you talking about? - he whined loudly. - They're beautiful... just... - he tried to wrap his hand around them gently, but you hit it.

- No touching - you reminded him.

- No touching - he repeated with a mischievous smile, pecking your cheek.- I… just…  kind of look forward to having them back…

You rubbed your eyelids with your fingers, trying not to laugh.

- Not only are you an idiot, you're also perverted - you commented, glancing at him again.

- Pff, if I weren't perverted, you wouldn't have such a little cute daughter  - he kissed the side of your head a few times and corrected himself on the pillow. - I love you…- he murmured, making sure it came out as loveable as it could.

- I love you too - you answered tiredly, slowly falling asleep in the safest embrace of this world.

[edytae]

Chapter 3: picnic (smut-mature) ft. Kim Taehyung x Reader

pairing: Taehyung x (female) reader        

summary: very soft scenes and Taehyung is in love

rating: fluffff!!! slight smut, still do not interact if you are underage

genre/warnings: there isn't much. Taehyung imagines some hot stuff briefly. 

word count: 21K

A/N: chapters aren't in chronological order. Check out my other work on my masterlist.

Chapter 1:  Needy Love

Chapter 2: Tae-time

Chapter 3: picnic

“Y/N, do you know I called you here, darling?” Your father asked gingerly as he sipped the coffee you made for him. You pulled yourself up from the couch and shook your head nervously. “No, father, but I was hoping we could chat about my studies.” You were perfectly bending your voice to appear calm. 

“It is about your future, my darling daughter.” He sipped another big gulp and nodded his head approvingly. “You know you are in the age of-” You sighed at the same old introduction to the same old topic, marriage. “Please, don’t roll your eyes. I– we– your mother and I firmly believe that it is your time have a serious relationship.” His voice was way nicer than your mother’s. She would just start complaining about you and it never ended well.

“Namjoon is still single.” You had an answer ready all the time. 

“Well, your brother is a man. He is— I know sweetheart, I know it must feel so unfair as we treat you differently because you are a woman. I think it is bullshit too, but I must care for you regardless.”  When you thought about it objectively, you couldn’t find your parents unreasonable. They were already beyond their peers to support you in your career. 

“But marriage is– scary!” You shrugged eyes stuck on the shining pen holder he had on his desk.

“It is not supposed to be… Also, since when you think Taehyung is scary?” Your father asked you playfully. You choked on your breath at the sound of his name. Your heart started beating crazy, your palms got sweaty immediately. 

“Wh-what do y-you mean- Taehyung?” You asked with your cheeks burning like charcoals. Your father continued with a reminiscent smile on his face. “Oh, you thought we forgot the times you cried to be Taehyung’s bride?” 

You remembered your twelfth birthday when Taehyung decided that he was too cool to play with kids, and you screamed in his face, “You can’t go Kim Taehyung. Our wedding didn’t even start yet.” He had replied with, “No, Y/N. I am not a child anymore; I don’t want to play with your friends.” The denial had made you cry your eyes out to his parents. They had soothed but you continued to cry, tugging at your white dress, “But I-i want to be Taehyung’s bride! No, I want him!” 

You couldn’t reply to your father without turning into a beetroot. Your knees were shaking from where you were sitting. Your ears were buzzing as if strong winds were blowing. “Does he know about this?” You whispered as you covered your face with your hands. 

“Of course, he does. We have talked about a prospect of an actual marriage, but if you don’t want to marry him, that’s something else. You may find another suitable ma–” 

You didn’t let your father finish his words. “Fine.” Your father knew your facade. He knew that you would act uninterested, but the blush on your face was enough of an answer. “You don’t have to rush–” He tried to continue but you shut him up again with a huff. 

“I said fine! Now, please excuse me. I am late to bed.” You left your father's office with your cheeks redder than the sun. He was laughing after you, chuffed with your infatuation with Taehyung.

The air was colder in the corridors. Your shoes clinked on the marble rhythmically as you rushed your wing. You needed alone time to process all of this. Thankfully, it was way after dinner, everyone was in the living room for drinks so you could easily excuse yourself to your wing without anyone noticing it. 

When you entered your small living room, you could hear your heart beating in your ears. You were beyond excited to hear the expected news. 

Taehyung was your childhood love. He was your first and only love, your best friend for years. He was always kind, understanding, generous and fun. Oh, he was so fun to be around. He could always make your day with a simple thing. He was thoughtful. He would always bring you various gifts when he travelled. He would get you jewellery, clothes, shoes, hats… He would get you flowers to plant in your greenhouse at his parent’s mansion. He would help you care for your baby orchids and trees. He used to write you long letters when you were away in a boarding school. He would write everything that happened, his feelings, his plans. You would read them over and over again. He was also very attractive too. He was the most charming person you ever met. He could easily captivate anyone with his contagious laugh and seductive words. 

Just like that, you heard a couple of laughs. You walked towards to window and looked outside to see Jimin, Namjoon and Taehyung sharing a cigarette just below the arbour. They were inhaling the cigarette smoke quickly and passing it around like a bunch of teens. Taehyung was standing in the middle; he was facing your family’s mansion. Jimin and Namjoon were on his sides, laughing at something very enthusiastically.

Taehyung must have sensed as his eyes immediately found your room’s window. You flinched back when his eyes grazed your face through the thick glass. There was no way he could see you in your dark room, but still, you held your breath. Taehyung slightly squinted, and then his lips curled. Right after, Namjoon and Jimin left with their wrestling game. Taehyung dismissed them with a nod of his chin. You assumed he would leave too, but he kept staring at your window. 

With a sudden urge of confidence, you turned on your lamp light beside your window. This was where you sat and read before going to bed so your lamp was conveniently close. Taehyung’s brows rose up as you finally quit being so stubborn. 

You pulled your window open, “What are you looking at?” 

Taehyung chuckled, “Looking at my beautiful fiancée!” He shouted back with a grin. Oh, he already knew why your father wanted to talk to you. That was why he held your hand before you left to see your father at his office.

You huffed, stomping your feet on the ground. Even though Taehyung didn’t get to see it fully, he was beyond glad to see you this flustered so his laugh only grew larger until you poked your tongue at him and closed your window with blinds tightly shut. 

Taehyung eyes were locked onto your window, sort of in shock when you poked your tongue. You were still that annoying little girl with two ponytails, and now you were going to be his wife. He rolled his neck slowly. He was feeling amazing. Taehyung loved you for as long as he could remember. You were his play friend since you were babies. You were his best friend while growing up. But things changed when Taehyung hit puberty first. As his body changed to be a man, he realised his feelings were deeper than a friendship. He was in love with you as he yearned to spend time with you every single day. 

Also, he craved you like a mature man as he woke up to soiled underwear with you in his mind. You were a pretty, lovely woman he adored endlessly. Since he was a kid, Taehyung has been referred to as your future husband, but now, he was closer to turning that into a reality.

Taehyung had multiple meetings with your father about your future with him. Your dad was a simple, direct man. He wanted you to marry Taehyung. He was very well aware of your infatuation for each other since you two were teenagers. But he also wanted you to have a perfect marriage without any dishonesty. 

“Look, kid… You know, I like you so listen carefully. Y/N is my only daughter and I want her to have a perfect life. And I know you love her but I need to be sure that you are perfect for her… I need to be sure that you will never put her second and that you don’t and won’t have any lovers. My daughter cannot ever be a second to another woman, nor a mistress. I am giving you some time to get yourself together.” 

Your father’s talk was short, precise and non-negotiable. Taehyung knew if he didn’t live up to those set expectations of a perfect husband, you could easily find hundreds of men to tie the knot. He didn’t remember how many times he wanted to punch someone right in the face because they were dying to meet you, would love to take you out for an opera… So, Taehyung did get himself together.

He was already in business with your father so he was always in the spot which made him work harder and be more sensible. Taehyung knew this wasn’t about money. Only a part of your inheritance was enough to feed a village for years. 

Then, he had cut his ties with many of his friends, which your father considered not good friends, a considerable amount of them consisted of females. 

Taehyung came to thr next meeting with your father with a good profit, a refreshed social circle and a prayer on his lips to have you as his wife. “I am glad you improved, my son. I know you will be good to my daughter… You will understand what this means when you have a daughter of your own.” When your father gave him the green light to proceed further, he sobbed like a young kid right there.  Your father was surprised as he watched Taehyung cry in his chair. Taehyung knew how meticulous your parents were about your life. Taehyung’s parents were the same as his sister. He understood that well and wanted to be his best for you. 

Taehyung saw a shadow move behind your curtains, a few minutes later the shadow disappeared as you turned off your gas lamp. Taehyung lit up another cigarette, this time smoking with joy as he imagined you cuddled up in your big bed with big pillows. Soon enough it would be him that you cuddled. 

—

On a warm and sunny afternoon, a few days after your dad’s talk with you, Taehyung arrived at your family estate, eager to see you. Your families were living very close lives. On gorgeous days like these, they would take turns to make dinner plans and enjoy each other's company. In the past days, you made an incredible effort to avoid Taehyung, your actions often resembled those of a playful child as you gasped every time you saw Taehyung hide.

You felt a mixture of excitement and shyness that made your heart race. It had always happened with Taehyung. You were running and Taehyung was chasing. He would do that with you gladly as long as you landed in his arms. 

 You were usually in your garden before dinner, soaking up the last bit of sun before saying goodbye to it for the day. You enjoyed being with tall trees and flowers despite not liking the accompanies that came with them: the bees and flies. As he strolled through the lush garden, he called your name. "Y/N, where are you? I can't wait to see you!" Taehyung's voice was filled with love and anticipation.

Taehyung's brow furrowed in playful frustration as he continued to search for you. "Y/N, you can't hide from me forever!"

He wandered deeper into the garden, searching for your hiding place, his determination mingled with amusement. He couldn't help but find your shyness endearing.

Finally, his eyes caught a glimpse of the delicate lace from your dress peeking out from behind the roses. He moved closer, his smile widening as he saw you blushing, your face partially concealed by the blossoms.

"Found you," he whispered, his voice warm and loving.

Your shyness only seemed to deepen as he approached. "Taehyung," you said, your voice barely above a murmur. “What are you doing here?” You asked while trying to look busy with gardening, but your attempts were cute. 

"Y/N," Taehyung replied, feigning innocence but with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I was just strolling through this lovely garden and, well, I couldn't resist the temptation to find the most beautiful flower here."

You gasped largely at him, cheeks flushed. "You and your leisurely strolls," you teased, pretending to be engrossed in tending to the roses. “Since when you are a man of the green?”

It was true that gardening wasn’t Taehyung’s liking, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t good at it. He always helped you when you were kids.

He took a step closer, his tone playfully innocent. "Am I not allowed to visit my future wife's garden?"

Your heart fluttered at the words "future wife," but you maintained your facade. "You can't just sneak up on a lady. You're supposed to be a gentleman!”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, a sly grin on his face. "Who said I was sneaking? I called your name."

“Well, I happen to not hear it.” You shrugged and continued awkwardly patting a flower. He took another step closer, his gaze unwavering. "You know, I find your attempts to look busy very cute."

“What? I am not pretending!”

Taehyung chuckled at your faux indignation. "Oh, I'm sure you're the most diligent gardener I know with a lace dress right before dinner."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile on your face. "Well, someone has to tend to these flowers."

Taehyung took another step closer, and now he was right beside you. He plucked a stray leaf from a nearby plant and studied it for a moment. "You're right. But you know, I have been trying to spend some time with my lovely flower too."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to sound nonchalant but failing as your heart raced. "Your lovely flower?"

He flashed a mischievous smile, "Yes, my lovely, shy flower who hides in the garden."

You huffed playfully, "Shy? Me? Never."

Taehyung shook his head, his dark hair ruffling in the breeze. "Oh, I beg to differ. I've seen you turn redder than those roses whenever I'm near."

You are offended. "I do not!"

He moved even closer, his gaze warm but teasing. "In fact, you're blushing right now."

Your cheeks grew warm, and you turned away to hide your face, missing the triumphant grin that crossed his. Taehyung laughed, and the sound was like music to your ears.

“I– Taehyung!” You hid your face in your hands before turning to run back to the house.

Taehyung chuckled, following you at a leisurely pace, though the mischievous glint in his eyes didn't fade. "Hey, don't run away now!"

Taehyung could easily catch you but he intentionally walked slowly and stood behind you. Your dress, hair and your shoes weren’t for running at all. You were a pretty doll to be enjoyed by Taehyung’s eyes. 

The dining room was expansive, with high ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers that bathed the space in a warm, golden glow. The walls were covered in rich, dark wood panelling, which gave the room a sense of grandeur. Large, ornate paintings hung from the walls.

The table was set with fine china, crystal glassware, and silver cutlery. A clean white tablecloth draped over it, adding to the air of sophistication.  The chairs around the table were upholstered in plush, dark velvet and featured intricate carvings that added to the room's old-world charm. At the head of the table, there were two particularly imposing chairs, one reserved for your father, and the other for Mr. Kim, Taehyung's father.

The room was adorned with other antique furnishings like a grand wooden sideboard on one wall. A beautiful marble fireplace dominated the other wall, with a roaring fire that added a cosy touch.

The large windows, draped in heavy curtains, offered a glimpse of the manicured gardens outside. The entire scene created an atmosphere of timeless elegance, a reminder of the grandeur of the aristocratic society to which both your families belonged.

As you rushed into the dining room through the big glass door, the delicious aroma of dinner greeted you. Your parents were already there, waiting for dinner to be ready. They shared knowing smiles and soft laughter at the sight of you and Taehyung being so playful and clearly in love. They couldn't resist a bit of teasing and playful banter flowed freely. There was a shared delight in seeing the two of you so deeply in love.

Your father raised an eyebrow and said, "Ah, the young lovebirds have graced us with their presence." 

Taehyung's family, the Kims, couldn't resist joining in the fun. Mr. Kim, with a chuckle, said, "Well, it's good to see that you two are as inseparable as ever." Mrs. Kim added, "Young love is a beautiful thing, isn't it?" They were holding hands elegantly. 

This light-hearted teasing made you blush, and you sought refuge by stepping closer to Taehyung. Your cheeks turned a shade of pink as you playfully hid your face behind his shoulder, allowing him to shield you from the teasing.

Taehyung looked behind, seeing you get smaller and smaller. As you playfully hid behind Taehyung from the teasing, he couldn't help but find you utterly endearing. He wanted to wrap his arms around your waist, swirl you around and bury his nose into your neck. His strong, protective instincts kicked in. 

As the light-hearted teasing continued, Taehyung couldn't help but notice how your discomfort was increasing. So, with a playful yet protective smile, he decided to divert the attention away from you.

"Alright, alright," Taehyung said, his voice carrying a touch of playful authority. “Please stop before Y/N turns completely red.” He was so desperate for physical touch. He wanted to coo your cute face and kiss your temple when you looked up at him with thankful eyes. 

Casual chatter filled the room, and Taehyung's protective gesture hadn't gone unnoticed, and you felt grateful for the considerate and caring partner by your side. The blush on your cheeks began to recede, replaced by a feeling of contentment. As the chatter continued and the delightful aroma of the dinner filled the air, your families proceeded to dinner in the grand and sophisticated dining room. The long, intricately carved wooden table was adorned with fine china and sparkling crystal glasses. The soft glow of the chandeliers above cast an enchanting light across the room.

You and Taehyung took your seats next to each other, as etiquette suggested for an engaged couple. Despite not being officially married yet, the two of you were forced to embrace the traditions and formalities even in intimate family dinners.

Throughout the dinner, Taehyung's attention was solely on you. He ensured your glass was never empty, expertly striking up conversations to draw you into discussions. His eyes held a special tenderness whenever he looked at you, filled with a silent promise of a future together. However, as the evening continued, and the sweet scent of the wine lingered in the air, Taehyung's desires grew more physical. He had been drinking to stop himself from gawking at you. His leg brushed against yours under the table, and he couldn't help but steal subtle glances in your direction. His longing for you was evident in the way his gaze lingered and his fingers lightly grazed your hand during the pauses in conversation.

Your skin felt tingly when he touched you, but still very comforting. You found yourself craving for his touch, but you pushed the indecent thoughts from your head. Taehyung couldn’t though. He was almost addicted to daydreaming about you until your voice filled his ears. 

“It is really important for our city as well as it is for our business. The DeVergensky family has a really good relationship with the King.” Mr Kim commented after your father announced their trip to Lyon. 

The DeVergensky family, wealthy and distinguished, had decided to leave Russia amidst the ongoing conflict in their homeland. Their reputation preceded them, prompting the Russian ambassador, Mr. Charles, to request that your father accommodate them during their initial days in France. So, Taehyung and Namjoon had been working on the possibility of a trade agreement since the notice of their arrival. Plus, their daughter was a friend of yours from boarding school.

“How long will they be staying Marseille?” You asked. 

“We aren’t informed yet, but I assume not long since Mrs DeVergensky health.” Your father reasoned. 

“Thank you so much already for accepting to help, Y/N. We appreciate it.” Mr Kim thanked you sweetly and you enthusiastically nodded. 

You were sent to a boarding school in Switzerland as a young girl. Despite your peers, your father wanted you to have a proper education that made you stand out. Your years in the beautiful Alps were long and enlightening. Now, you were fluent in both German and Russian and had a strong understanding of history and philosophy. All of these made you a very good prospect for Mr Charles, who has been trusting you with his foreign visitors. 

This was also an opportunity to prove yourself and contribute significantly to your family's business ventures. Your proficiency in Russian would undoubtedly play a crucial role, in bridging any potential gaps in communication between the visiting family and your own.

“Despite my fullest enthusiasm to be a diligent host, I want to remind you that their wealth coming from the land cannot be trusted.” You concerningly repeated. The air in the room shifted into a tension. Your mother immediately jumped in, “Darling, it is fine. Everything will be alright at the end.” She gingerly smiled. 

You impatiently gulped, “It is not just an acute incidence, mother. Everyone knows that something big is going to happen over there.” You looked at your father and Mr Kim. “We’ll see another revolution in our life-times, father. People like DeVergensky’s have the power of people they exploit. After the storm, they will have nothing. The Bolsh–” Your words were harshly cut by your mother’s. 

“I think it is enough, Y/N.” She tried to be stern, but you could see the discomfort in her eyes. You couldn’t blame her. She was scared. Nonetheless, the way she interrupted you was rude. Your eyes flickered down in defeat. Your shoulders shrugged. Taehyung held your hand in understanding over the table. His pretty eyes closed in acknowledgement.

“You are right, darling. We must not rely on them for long, but we can’t deny their influence on the King’s household.” Your father valued your point of view dearly and often opposed you to have a better understanding of the situation. 

“He isn’t as affluent as his cousin in London. The Brits got ahead with their cha–” Your words got interrupted again.

“But still there is nothing that concerns us.” Your mother forced. 

You were hot-blooded. You loved to debate. You had the best upbringing for it with hours-long classes just to brainstorm. As the heated words were about to fly out from your mouth, you held them in with a hitch. You decided to completely change the topic for the sake of your family’s well-being. 

“Mrs Marie, can I have my dessert early, please?” You asked as the maids were shuffling. 

Taehyung squeezed your hand one more time and got ready to watch you enjoy a bowl of profiteroles. As the maids rushed to fulfil your request, Taehyung's gaze never left you, filled with an unspoken admiration for you. You gave him a grateful smile, silently conveying your appreciation for his support.

While you waited for your dessert, the conversation gradually shifted to more light-hearted matters. Mr. Kim shared stories about the recent expansions in their upcoming stores, and how difficult it was to train the new staff members they had recently hired.

The tension in the air was replaced with the gentle hum of laughter and the clinking of cutlery. The rich aroma of the freshly prepared profiteroles soon filled the plate as the maids presented the dessert to you with a flourish. Each bite was a delightful explosion of flavours, and you couldn't help but express your satisfaction with an occasional hum of delight.

Taehyung watched you with a contented smile, his gaze lingering on your animated expressions as you savoured each bite. As the delicate dessert graced your taste buds, your eyes lit up with delight, and a soft sigh of satisfaction escaped your lips. Taehyung couldn't help but be captivated by the sheer joy radiating from you, his affectionate gaze following the movement of your hand as you reached for another delectable profiterole.

The gentle glow of the dining room's lights cast a warm ambience over the scene, accentuating the play of emotions on your face. With each bite, your expressions shifted from pure bliss to a hint of mischievousness, as if each taste was a secret pleasure shared between you and the dessert.

Taehyung's contented smile only grew as he observed the subtle nuances of your enjoyment. The way your eyes closed momentarily, basking in the sweet flavours, and the delicate movement of your hand bringing the dessert to your lips created an enchanting sight that he couldn't tear his eyes away from. He couldn’t figure out if you were intentional with the way you gave him a little show. He both wanted and didn’t want his little angel to be tainted. Regardless, he found himself so much amused that he took you out for desserts regularly. He knew that it wasn't just the dessert you were savouring; it was life itself. In these moments, he was reminded of the many reasons he had fallen in love with you – your ability to find beauty in the simplest of pleasures, the way you lit up a room with your presence, and how you turned an ordinary evening into a masterpiece of joy.

Dinner ended very soon after the dessert was served. Not many were keen on having something sweet as they would indulge in wine soon anyway. Before your father called it done, Taehyung cleared his throat, gathering his courage to ask for permission, his eyes flickering to your father. "Mr L/N" he began, a touch of nervousness in his tone, "I was wondering if I could steal Y/N away for a walk. The weather is still so lovely, and I thought it would be nice for us to enjoy it together."

Your father regarded Taehyung with a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with pride. "Of course, my boy," he replied, his voice warm. He didn’t need to add anything on as he knew Taehyung would take the best care of you.

Taehyung’s mother chimed in with a laugh, her gaze shifting to his son. "We'll be keeping an eye on you, you know."

You felt your cheeks flush at their playful teasing, but you couldn't help but smile at the familiar banter. With a grateful nod to your parents, you stood up, ready to join Taehyung for the strolls he seemed to love. His outstretched hand met yours, and as you intertwined your fingers, you could feel the excitement bubbling within you. The prospect of a quiet walk with Taehyung, under the soft glow of the moon, seemed like the perfect ending to a delightful evening.

—

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air enveloped you, prompting Taehyung to help you into your fur jacket with a tender gesture. His fingers brushed lightly against your skin, eliciting a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature. You couldn't help but relish the sensation of his warmth surrounding you rather than your rich coat. 

Once you were properly wrapped up, Taehyung linked his arm with yours, and together, you set off on your leisurely walk. He watched your step so closely and held you secure as the terrain was uneven. 

The night was serene, and you both strolled, savouring the peaceful atmosphere. The gardens were bathed in moonlight, and the sound of the gently rustling leaves added to the tranquillity of the moment.

As you and Taehyung wandered through the moonlit garden, you couldn't help but fuss about your long coat concealing your beloved lace dress with open shoulders. You sighed, "Taehyung, I really adore this dress, but this coat hides it completely."

Taehyung, his eyes gleaming like stars, chuckled warmly. "Y/N, as much as I admire your dress, you must also think about keeping warm. It's a chilly night."

You pouted playfully, "But I want to be seen in this dress. It's so lovely."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "But there's no one here to see it. It's just the two of us."

You grinned mischievously; your eyes locked on his. "Then, you look at it!"

Taehyung's eyes softened as he gave you a gentle scoff. "Well, in that case, let's give your beautiful dress the attention it deserves."

He held your one hand up and twirled you around yourself. Your lace dress with delicate open shoulders exuded an ethereal charm under the soft moonlight. The intricate lacework adorned the fabric, creating an elegant and graceful appearance that perfectly accentuated your natural beauty. The way the dress clung to your form, highlighting your curves in all the right places, left Taehyung mesmerized. “A beautiful princess.” He breathlessly said. 

“Right? I love this dress so much. It is so beautiful.” You patted your waist.

“It is you that is beautiful, darling.” Taehyung pulled you closer, his eyes locked onto yours. You always shied away whenever he got close, lowering your face.

“Well, you were the one who picked this colour and lace for me.” You bit down your lips. 

“Did I?” Taehyung was surprised. There was no possibility to count the gifts he gave you. “That’s why it is my favourite.” You added. 

“My darling…” Taehyung sighed and tipped his chin slightly up, “The moon bathes you in its soft radiance as if you were a celestial being yourself," Taehyung murmured, his voice tender and filled with awe. "Even the flowers in this garden pale in comparison to your grace and beauty. You are truly a vision, my love." 

Your cheeks grew in his hands in an adorable pout, but you didn’t look away. “Taehyung…” You whispered.

He gently traced the delicate lace detailing on your dress, his touch feather-light and respectful. "This dress does justice to your elegance, but it's your heart that truly shines. It's a treasure I'm blessed to cherish every day."

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at his heartfelt words. "You always have a way with words," you mused, trying to mask the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Only when it comes to you, my dear. You inspire the poet in me." His gaze never wavered, and the sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter even more.

“Oh, Taehyung.” You were properly charmed and shied away now. “Thank you so much, dar–” You stopped yourself last minute from calling him darling. You didn’t know why it rolled out this easily. 

Taehyung's eyes glimmered with affection as he glanced at you, his gaze warm and understanding. "You almost called me something there," he teased gently, a playful glint in his eye.

Your cheeks flushed with an invisible hue, the sudden realization of what almost slipped from your lips causing you to feel flustered. "I...I mean to," you stammered, your words faltering. "It just...came out."

"It's okay, Y/N," Taehyung reassured, his smile widening. "We don’t have a rush. I just want you to feel safe and loved, darling." He squeezed your hand gently, his touch a comforting reassurance that filled you with warmth.

You gasped at how sensually he said the pet name. 

“You are the only place I feel safe, Taehyung.” You said eyes closed, letting your head rest on Taehyung’s shoulder as he walked your body for you. 

Taehyung's heart swelled with affection as you nestled closer to him, his protective instincts kicking in. "I'm always here for you, Y/N. You can count on me for anything, my love." His voice was tender, conveying a depth of emotion that made your heart flutter.

You lifted your head slightly to meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his in a moment of quiet intimacy. "I trust you, Taehyung," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the evening air. "Please promise me you'll always be honest with me, no matter what."

Taehyung nodded, his expression earnest. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never keep anything from you. You mean the world to me, and I want you to always feel that way."

Your heart swelled with gratitude, feeling the depth of his devotion wash over you. "I do… You make me feel like I own the world.” 

This time it was Taehyung's turn to blush. Thankfully, it was dark so you didn’t realise it. “Well, soon I will…” You cheekily smiled as your hands pressed on his chest, barely feeling his heartbeat. He was closer now, his breath ghosting your cheek as your chest heaved with the sweet proximity. 

The corners of Taehyung's lips quirked up in a playful grin as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Do you think your parents were peeking through the window to catch us in the act?" he teased, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were, just to make sure we're upholding the family's traditions."

Your cheeks flushed with warmth, the humour of the situation easing any lingering tension. "I wouldn't put it past them," you chuckled softly, the sound light and carefree. "But I think they trust us enough to know we'll abide by the rules, even when they're not looking."

Taehyung's hand found yours, intertwining his fingers with yours in a gentle, affectionate grip. "I think you're right," he murmured, his gaze soft as it met yours. "But if they were watching, they’d see if you would let me steal a kiss from you.” 

With his words, you shuddered with anticipation. The fact that you didn’t have your first kiss made Taehyung so hungry for you in a way that he could explode. 

“What makes you think I will let you steal a kiss?” You were ever full of banter. Before Taehyung could oppose with something witty, he felt your cold fingers grasp his face. Then, you planted a soft kiss was on the corner of his mouth, where his dimples lay. 

Taehyung felt the ground slip under his feet. It was as if time stood still, the world fading into the background as the sensation of your affection enveloped him completely. His mind raced, trying to process the surge of emotions that swirled within him. He was utterly captivated by the softness of your touch, the lingering warmth that remained on his skin, and the delicate yet powerful message that your gesture conveyed. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still for him.

A surge of excitement coursed through his veins, electrifying every inch of his body. He could feel his heart racing, its steady rhythm disrupted by the sudden rush of adrenaline that pulsed through him. Every nerve in his being seemed to jolt with an overwhelming sense of joy.

The intensity of the moment was etched into his memory, leaving an indelible mark that he knew would linger for a long time. 

After the trick you pulled on him, you had the audacity to giggle right in his face. It was so pleasant to see him affected by your moves. “Do you want to sit on the garden swing?” You asked. 

Taehyung was still speechless. Before Taehyung could find his words, he nodded dreamingly. "I would love that," he managed to say, a hint of wonder still lingering in his voice. As you made your way to the garden swing, he followed you, trying to regain his composure. 

The swing was located on the left side of your gardens, where no one would come to visit so it made an excellent spot for you to hide. Joseph, footmen of your household, built that for you. When Taehyung sat down next to you slowly, the wooden hinge squeaked. There wasn’t enough room for two of you so you sat next to each other body to body.

“Are you cold?” He asked, concern lacing his voice when you pulled your coat tighter around you and got closer to him.

“Just a little,” You admitted with a faint puff of fog that came out of your mouth. 

Taehyung immediately tried to take off his jacket. “No, no, Taehyung it’s fine!” You tried to stop him. “You will be cold as well.” Thankfully, the swing was too small for him to move. 

“Of course not, Y/N. Have my jacket.” There was no question in his mind. 

“Just– Just sit closer and I’ll be fine.” You wrapped your hands around his arms timidly. Taehyung huffed, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. "Is this better?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, grateful for his warmth. "Much better, thank you," you murmured, leaning into his embrace. As he gently swung the two of you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of security and comfort that only he could provide.

"Y/N," Taehyung began, his voice soft and appreciative, "I wanted to tell you how smart I think you are. Your insights during dinner were truly remarkable. You have such a quick mind, and it's one of the many things I love about you." He was annoyed that your mother disregarded your attempts to make an argument.

Your lips curled down, and a shrug followed. “I try my best.” 

Taehyung shook his head no, his warm breath visible in the crisp night air. "You do more than try, Y/N. You excel. You bring a unique perspective to every conversation, and I find that incredibly attractive."

“Oh, Taehyung.” You were properly charmed and shied away now. “Thank you so much.” You hid your face in his shirt. You couldn't help but appreciate how good he smelled. Taehyung's cologne mixed with his natural scent was a heady combination. Interestingly, the cigarettes he seemed to be eating were gone.

He continued to swing the chair gently, kind of scared that it would break. “So, you know one of the DeVergensky’s?” He asked.

"Yes, their daughter, Nina was in my dorm," you said absentmindedly, your voice almost dreamy as your thoughts lingered on Taehyung's comforting warmth. His strong, protective aura enveloped you, making you feel secure and cherished. A flicker of ambiguity flashed across Taehyung's gaze as he probed further, his eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity and concern.

"Were you good friends?" he inquired, his tone gentle yet intent, as if he was trying to unravel a mystery.

You shrugged, the frown on your face deepening as you reminisced. "Not really," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of regret.

"Why not?" Taehyung's curiosity seemed to be piqued, and his protective instincts were on full alert.

"Well, she wasn't the kind of girl I would hang out with," you explained, trying to downplay the significance of your past acquaintance.

"Was she mean to you or did she cause trouble? If yes, it’s gonna be tough to have them around," Taehyung remarked, a note of possessiveness creeping into his words, his protective nature surfacing.

You pulled your face from his chest, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. A mischievous giggle bubbled up as you prepared to share the intriguing details. "No, she was fine and, well, she didn’t play pranks on people, but you see... She was very interested in boys. Always had an interesting story to tell.” You giggled. It was so much fun to sit around with the girls and gossip about boys.

Your words seemed to strike a chord with Taehyung, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed the information. A shadow of concern flashed across his features, mingling with a hint of possessiveness.

"So, she was quite popular with the boys, huh?" Taehyung's voice sounded slightly strained, and his grip around you tightened imperceptibly.

You nodded, a playful grin playing on your lips as you recounted the wild stories that circulated in the dorm. "Oh, you wouldn't believe the number of boys she managed to charm," you remarked. You clearly remembered once she went canoeing with a boy and got fallen into the lake. Poor girl came to the dorms with soaked clothes but still didn’t snitch you on the headmaster for helping her skip classes.

A flicker of insecurity flashed in Taehyung's gaze, and his jaw clenched ever so slightly. “How were there any boys in an all-girls boarding school?” 

You giggled, “I wasn’t in a monastery! We could go anywhere we wished on weekends. And well, on weekdays if you were good at jumping.”

Taehyung's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a hint of irritation tugging at his features. "I suppose you girls were quite the little escape artists," His jaw clenched slightly, a subtle sign of his discomfort. "And you? Did you ever... I mean, did you have a lot of attention from boys?" His attempt at nonchalance couldn’t hide the protective edge of his words.

You detached from his side and let your head hang on the chair, eyes looking up to the sky. You would watch the sky a lot in boarding school too, always had one of your friends to chat with.

You playfully nudged him, enjoying the way his gaze lingered on you. "I had my moments," you replied. Taehyung gritted his teeth. His mind went absolutely haywire with all the possibilities… Oh, he was getting angry now. He could imagine how those boys would do everything to charm you. 

You couldn't help but tease Taehyung a little further, not fully realizing the storm of jealousy brewing within him. "No one significant that I can remember." you said, flashing him a sly smile.

He took a deep breath in, hand holding yours to reassure himself you were here with him. He struggled to maintain his composure. "Did any of them... kiss you? Have you... had your first kiss?" he asked, his voice strained.

You paused for a moment, weighing his reaction. “Well…” Taehyung couldn’t play anymore. "Y/N," he began, his voice low and intense. "Have you ever been kissed?" The vulnerability in his eyes pulled at your heartstrings. 

You met his gaze, observing the mix of emotions swirling in his eyes. “No…” You clearly answered him. 

Relief flooded Taehyung's features, the tension in his shoulders visibly melting away. His eyes, once clouded with doubt and jealousy, now sparkled with gratitude and reassurance. The creases that had formed on his forehead softened, and his lips curved into a gentle smile.

You could almost feel the weight lifted off his chest as he exhaled, the air carrying his pent-up anxiety and worry with it.

You found his relaxed face almost annoying. “Did you have your first kiss, Taehyung?” You asked bitingly. 

Taehyung's mouth hung slightly ajar as he processed your biting question. The momentary relaxation in his expression shattered, replaced by a sense of discomfort and regret. His mind raced, grappling with the memory of his past interactions as he was quite experienced in the same milestones. 

You annoyingly giggled, your voice had zero joy with the same jealousy that poisoned Taehyung. 

The silence between you grew thick, the air charged with unspoken words and unresolved tension. It was as if your question had opened a door to a place neither of you was fully prepared to explore. In the midst of this emotional turmoil, you both were faced with the raw reality of your individual pasts and the consequences they held.

After a lengthy pause, Taehyung finally spoke, his voice laced with vulnerability. “Y/N," he said, his eyes seeking yours with sincerity. The past is... well, the past. What's important is the present and our future together."

Your gaze met his, and while a trace of lingering hurt remained in your eyes, there was also a glimmer of understanding. You sighed, relenting to the power of your emotions. "You're right.” You nodded understandingly. 

Taehyung could almost read your mind as your mind got lost in possibilities. He was sad that he upset you. “There is only you now. I only see you, darling…” He turned his whole body to you, still holding your hand like a lifeline. You looked down to his hand grasping yours up to his face. 

“You better.” You warned him, the playful warning in your voice laced with a hint of vulnerability and annoyance. 

“Y/N…” Taehyung called your name in a serious tone. He engulfed your cold hands in his large ones and brought them to his lips. “Please look at me…” He whispered; his warm lips caressing your knuckles. You looked at Taehyung’s face. He was so handsome. His warm, honeyed eyes held an ocean of emotions, each glance capturing your attention and igniting a fire within you. The gentle curve of his lips seemed to beckon you closer, inviting you into a world of comfort and safety. His strong, defined jawline exuded confidence, complementing the softness of his gaze and lending an air of mystery to his already magnetic aura.

Every time you saw Taehyung, your heart would race, and a feeling of pure, innocent love would wash over you. He was the embodiment of your childhood dreams, the prince from your favourite fairy tales, and the protector who would always be there to keep you safe. 

Taehyung opened his mouth to search for words that seemed to pour out his heart so gently and smoothly. This time he fell short on sophisticated words and spoke his one and only truth. “I love you so much.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at Taehyung's heartfelt confession. It was a simple declaration, devoid of any elaborate language, but its sincerity and depth resonated with you. You closed your eyes to not let your tears fall down. You didn’t realise you were on the brink of crying. “Darling?” When he worriedly cupped your face, your cry grew even larger. 

You took deep breaths to calm yourself to answer him. With a shaky voice, you replied, “I love you too, Taehyung, more than I can express."

His intense gaze held yours, and in that profound moment, his own tears spilt over. You watched as they trailed down his cheeks, a poignant reflection of the depth of his feelings. His tender touch cradled your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that escaped your own eyes. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, a gesture of solace and unwavering devotion. In that shared vulnerability, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss upon your forehead, a silent pledge of devotion. You find your way into his embrace and place your head on his chest. Your face pressed onto his neck as pressed you to himself. “I promise I will be so good to you, my love. I will continue to worship you. 

The night continued to envelop you both in its embrace, the bond between you strengthened by the unspoken words. You held each other until both of you stopped crying and the night grew colder. It was time to take you back inside. 

Taehyung helped you get up and walked you back to the house. When the two of you entered the house, your family's laugh was filling the estate. As you and Taehyung entered the warmth of the house, the familiar sound of laughter, the hearty, rich laughter of your families, enveloped you like a comforting embrace. It was a sound that bespoke joy and shared bonds, a sound that resonated with the harmony of relationships cherished over time. You glanced at Taehyung, his eyes still glistening with traces of the tears that had fallen moments before. In that gaze, you found an unspoken understanding, a silent vow to protect the love that had blossomed between you.

Your families, upon seeing the two of you, erupted into gentle teasing and knowing smiles, their eyes filled with the warmth of affection. Your mother, with an endearing twinkle in her eye, ushered you both toward the crackling fireplace. She insisted that you both sit and warm yourselves, ensuring that you were well cared for in the tender glow of the fire. 

As you settled into the comfort of the ottoman with Taehyung sitting right beside you. His arm was wrapped around your waist to provide you backrest while engaged in conversation with your father. The sight of him engaging with your family, the ease with which he blended into the dynamic, only served to deepen your love for him.

Taehyung’s mother called out, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Have you two been having a good cry out there?"

Taehyung’s father joined in, a playful glint in his eye. "Ah, the young ones must be experiencing the emotional rollercoaster of young love. Did you shed a tear, Taehyung?"

You exchanged a quick, knowing glance with Taehyung, a silent understanding passing between you. "Cry? Us?" you retorted, feigning innocence. "Of course not! We were just enjoying the beauty of the night, weren't we, Taehyung?"

"Absolutely," Taehyung agreed, his voice laced with a chuckle. "No tears, just the beauty of the night sky."

Your parents and Taehyung's parents shared knowing glances, their eyes sparkling with amusement as they exchanged playful remarks.

Taehyung's mother chimed in, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "It seems like our children are already practising the art of melodrama." 

Taehyung laughed a rich and hearty sound that echoed through the room. "We're just enjoying the fresh air, I assure you. No drama here, not yet at least." 

Your mother chuckled, playfully shaking her head. "Well, you both look like you've been crying." 

You couldn't help but join in the laughter, feeling the warmth of the familial banter surrounding you. "It’s just same old Taehyung… always making me cry.” Your voice came out hoarse due to crying previously. Taehyung chuckled next to you as he rubbed the small of your back gently. 

“So, we assume two of you made up your minds?” Mr Kim asked you gently. He saw you his second daughter, acting more carefully than your own parents.

Taehyung looked at you for the answer. He had decided years ago. 

You looked at him and down to your hands. You took a deep breath, then met Mr. Kim's eyes with a sense of conviction. "We've talked about it, Mr. Kim. And yes, we have made up our minds." Your words were met with a chorus of smiles and nods from both sets of parents, and you felt a wave of support and understanding wash over you. Taehyung squeezed your back, his heart fluttering like a baby bird. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Taehyung’s mother rushed to your side and pulled you into a hug. “You were always a part of our family. Now, you will be my daughter too!” Her excitement brought back the tears to you.  

When she let you go, your mischievous side decided to play again. You look at your parents. “But I have one condition.” 

Everyone's eyes widened in surprise, their expressions shifting from curiosity to mild concern as they tried to anticipate your condition. Taehyung's grip tightened around your hand, his gaze fixed on you, a mix of anxiety and excitement flickering in his eyes.

You cleared your throat dramatically, as if about to make a life-altering announcement. "I want Taehyung to propose to me." you declared.

A collective gasp of relief and laughter filled the room. Taehyung's heart, which had momentarily felt like it was about to burst from his chest, now seemed to flutter with both relief and amusement.

Your families chatted amongst themselves at your silliness as Taehyung turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, really? That's your condition?"

You nodded with a teasing smile. "It is. I want a romantic, down-on-one-knee proposal, with all the clichés – a ring, flowers, and a heartfelt speech."

Taehyung feigned surprise, his hand on his chest. "Well, if that's what it takes to have you as my wife, I guess I have no choice."

The families watched with affectionate smiles, happy for the love that had grown between you.

His mother clapped her hands excitedly. "Well, let's not waste any more time, shall we? I have a feeling we're going to have a lot of planning to do!"

Oh, you did have a lot of planning to do. Starting from the next morning too. 

—

The next morning, even before your father’s wake-up time, your mother came knocking on your door. Last night you couldn’t stay awake until the Kims left and fell asleep on the ottoman near the fireplace. Taehyung was amused by how sleepy you got and sat on the floor and watched you sleep while the conversation grew into past midnight. Even though he was eager to carry you to your bed, your mother complained while she tugged you upstairs like a doll. After that you couldn’t fall asleep, swam between dreams and consciousness, your body clearly yearning for Taehyung’s comfort. As a result, when your mother came to wake you up, you were upset, to say the least. Apparently, Julia, your families’ dressmaker was coming today and you had to be at Kim’s this morning. 

You hate to be disturbed while sleeping. It reminded you of your school days but got dressed without complaining. Your maids were extra glad that you were sleepy and didn’t make a fuss about how you looked. You weren’t dressed in an intricate dress as you were going to be changing in and out of clothes all day. However, the thin and flowy dress wasn’t made for a crispy morning. Even though the carriage was closed on all sides, you were shaking from the wind. 

“I didn’t know Julia was coming today. When did Mrs Kim booked it?” You asked your mother as you pulled your cloak securely over your head to avoid cold weather outside. 

“We’ve been out of our minds because of you and Taehyung’s engagement! But don't worry dear, we will order dresses for the ceremonies we will attend with our guests. But maybe you want to look at a few wedding dress models, what do you think?” Your mother squealed like a young girl, face plastered with a large smile. 

You nodded and let the carriage swaddle you like a baby and lull you into a nap. Unfortunately or fortunately, Kim's mansion wasn’t that far away, and once again you were brutally woken. You somehow carried yourself into the front door, thankfully your driver stopped the carriage right beside the door. 

Kim's household wasn’t fully awake as the fireplace wasn’t even lit yet. As you stood with a pout on your lips, contemplating whether to go to the kitchen to warm up, Mrs Kim greeted you still in her nightwear. “Y/N! Good morning!” She welcomed you in a hug. 

“I am sorry for waking you up this early, but Julia will be here very early and we have so much to do!” Their enthusiasm was to be taken as an example. You looked at her through your sleepy eyes, wondering if she would let you go for now. 

And she did.

“Why don’t you go and wake Taehyung up? Or you can watch him sleep just like he did for the whole night.” She patted your arms, remembering his dear son’s affection for you. 

Suddenly, you were wide awake. 

As you moved through the lavish Kim mansion, the ornate walls adorned with intricate paintings and gilded mirrors, the sense of opulence surrounded you. The soft carpet beneath your feet absorbed the sound of your hurried steps, and the subtle scent of fresh flowers from the nearby vases filled the air.

Reaching Taehyung's chambers, you stood before the ornate door, its intricate carvings a testament to the family's refined taste. The richly decorated walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and historical paintings, the vibrant colours catching your eye as you made your way towards Taehyung's wing. The faint scent of polished wood and the delicate fragrance of flowers in vases added to the luxurious ambience, creating an atmosphere of refined elegance. You knocked gently, and there was a rustling sound from within. The door opened slightly, and Taehyung peered out, expecting to see one of the footmen. 

His eyes widened in surprise and delight as he saw you, and for a moment, he was rendered speechless. The morning light filtering through the window highlighted the strong contours of his puffy face, his tousled hair lending him a slightly disheveled yet utterly attractive appearance. You couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat as you took in his tall, commanding figure, dressed in a finely tailored suit that emphasized his powerful build.

"Y/N?" he exclaimed, momentarily taken aback by your unexpected visit. "What a wonderful surprise!" The hint of excitement in his voice was unmistakable as he ushered you inside, his warm gaze never leaving your face.

You groaned out when he invited you into his warm wing. The fireplace was burning with full power, most probably fire was started an hour ago. “I was freezing…” You mumbled and let Taehyung guide you into his couch. 

“Oh, my darling…” He cooed your face. “It is so chilly in the mornings, right? You should have woken me up. I would have been here to warm you up."

You leaned into his touch, relishing the way his presence brought immediate comfort. “We just came.” You mumbled into his cream shirt. 

“What is the reason, my darling?” He asked as you melted in his chest even though it seemed like your back was straining from hugging him.

“Hmm… The dressmaker will come today.” Why wasn’t your bed this comfortable?

Taehyung leaned back on the couch, letting you get comfortable on his chest. When you found your perfect spot like a cat, his hand caressed your face. “Are you feeling better now, my little ice cube?” He teased you.

You snuggled deeper into him, enjoying the warmth that emanated from both the crackling fireplace and Taehyung's proximity. “Much better now, thank you,” you quipped, a playful twinkle in your voice. "Maybe I should just move in here permanently.”

Taehyung hissed at the offer. His head dropped back as he let out a groan. He would fucking want that so much. You in his room, in his bed… to have you in his naked arms… oh, to have his way with you. Your body was already so soft to his touch, that he could feel your shape to his hold. Mornings were a bad time for you to be around him. He had just stopped dreaming about you, and now you were in his arms in reality. 

“But I don’t think I can ever let you go if I stay here.” You lifted your face in his hands and looked up to him. Taehyung gently kissed your forehead. “I am here as long as you want.” 

His kiss made wonders to you. It seemed like your grumpiness was eradicated with his lips on your forehead. 

That’s when you decided to bless him with another kiss. You puckered your lips and planted a soft kiss on Taehyung’s cheek. “Good morning, darling.” You rasped. 

Taehyung's breath hitched at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening with a mix of surprise and unmistakable adoration. His lips parted slightly as he drank in the sight of you, the soft morning light casting a gentle glow on your face. The husky rasp of your voice only added to the allure, sending a shiver down his spine. Despite his infatuation, he needed to leave your embrace before you felt his secret hiding inside his pants. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to let you go. “Good morning.” His voice was raspier, waking up the feelings within you that no man was allowed to. 

“Will you be picking pretty dresses for me, love?” Taehyung needed to get you out of his mind. 

You nodded with quite a mumble. You held Taehyung’s hand on your face. You rubbed your face onto him like a cat and planted a kiss on his palm. When your fingers delicately wrapped around his, Taehyung was so scared that he was dreaming. 

“I can maybe pick a few things for my bridal gown too…” You sheepishly smiled at the possibilities. “Also, for the affairs with our guests…” Taehyung was almost sure you were fully asleep. “Maybe I can pick something pretty to go out with you…” You sniffed and stopped murmuring.

Taehyung took a mental note to leave a fat cheque to his mother for your expenses. You were to be his wedded wife, his everything, so he needed to provide for you starting from now. 

“That’s sounds amazing, darling. Make sure you don’t get too tired, okay?” He gently scolded you. You nodded. 

Taehyung hissed at your obedient nature. He really needed you to stop pushing his buttons. 

“Why don’t you get into my bed, sweetie? I need to leave now, but I’ll come early.” With gentle guidance, Taehyung led you to his bedroom, the atmosphere exuding a comforting warmth that embraced you as you crossed the threshold. The room was bathed in a soft morning glow, and his cologne lingered in the air, creating an intimate ambience that wrapped around you like a familiar embrace. He helped you remove your cloak, the heavy fabric was the only thing to keep your fragile body warm. “Sit down, sweetie.” He whispered and sat you down on his bed. He didn’t remember if it was in accordance with etiquette to have you like this, and he didn’t give a fuck. When you sat down, he helped you out of your shoes and  Taehyung smoothed the covers around you, ensuring you were snug and cosy. His bed, adorned with a plush comforter and a pile of fluffy pillows, looked especially inviting with smell still lingering on the pillow. 

You hummed and buried your face into his pillow, legs rubbing against the smooth bedsheets. 

Taehyung stood in the doorway; his gaze fixed on your serene form. He didn’t trust himself to stand closer as he was yearning for your soft touch already. 

A rush of tenderness and protectiveness enveloped him, stirring an instinctual urge to safeguard you from any harm that might dare to disrupt your peaceful slumber.

Taehyung smoothed his clothes, and put on his jacket. He straightened his tie and walked to his desk. His chequebook was in the drawer. He put a large number on the paper and put it in his pocket.

He left his wing with a prayer to have every day of his life like this morning. Your mother and his were downstairs in the small drawing room. Housekeepers were preparing the large room for the dressmaker. 

“Good morning ladies.” Taehyung’s voice was full of confidence. 

He announced his presence to your mother and his. They were sitting down with tea in their hands.  

“I see, you couldn’t let your lover go easily. Your father has already left.” Mrs Kim smiled at his son. 

Taehyung nodded. He didn’t care what happened as long as he spent time with you. 

"It’s fine. Y/N is still resting in my room. I request you'd let her sleep a bit more," Taehyung explained, a soft smile gracing his lips as he spoke of you. "I don't want her to be disturbed."

Mrs. Kim's eyes softened with understanding, her gaze conveying an unspoken warmth and affection for you. "Of course, Taehyung. I won't disturb her. She's like my own daughter, you know that," she replied, reaching out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. 

Taehyung nodded, touched by his mother's words. He then reached into his pocket and withdrew the cheque, he slid down the table towards his mother.

"This is for Y/N," he explained. "Please make sure she gets everything she likes. I know you and Dad will cover, but I want her to have the freedom to choose whatever she wants." As he spoke, a sense of determination and protectiveness emanated from him, accentuating the weight of his words. 

Your mother and Mrs Kim shared a knowing look. They were amused at how protective and caring Taehyung got. 

"Of course, Taehyung. I'll make sure she has everything she needs," she reassured him, her voice laced with warmth and affection.

“I will come early.” With a final nod and a small smile, Taehyung turned to head out, his mind not in full ease, wondering if you were cold, if you were hungry. 

—

Despite his promise, Taehyung’s work seemed to stretch over the lunch. Normally, he would leave his office whenever he pleased, but he was going to be a man of a household; therefore, he needed to be more patient. 

He placed his arms on his desk, over the files lying on his deck and closed his eyes. You appeared in his head. The images in his head sometimes were memories of the past, sometimes visions of the future but they all had you in their centre. 

Taehyung's mind drifted away from the documents on his desk, and soon, his office became a canvas for his daydreams. Vivid images of you sleeping peacefully in his bed flooded his thoughts. He imagined the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, the soft curls of your hair splayed across the pillows, and the delicate curve of your lips, set in a serene expression. 

As he continued to lose himself in the trance, Taehyung envisioned himself lying next to you in the bed, arms wrapped around your soft, warm body. Your limbs entangled into his, your breath on his neck. He imagined kissing your forehead like the little princess you are. You were his pretty baby. Then, he would kiss all over your pretty face to wake you up. He almost heard your little laugh. 

Taehyung wouldn’t stop kissing your face.  Oh, he wouldn’t… He would beg you to steal kisses on your neck. He knew if he kissed your neck once, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

He would whisper in your ear, “Baby…” You’d let him continue obediently. Then, he would kiss down your throat, and bite your collar bones. He’d lick your delicious skin and suck little bruises to show everyone. By then you’d be wide awake. “Does that feel good, baby?” He’d ask.

Your whimper would be so soft, “Taehyung… It–” 

He wouldn’t let you stop your sentence and suck your nipple into his mouth. Your knobby nipple would feel delicious in his mouth. He’d kiss your breasts for minutes on end as your thighs rubbed to his knee. Your cries would fill his ear, “Tae.. What are you doing to me?” Taehyung is going to be the first and only man to satisfy your needy desires so he’ll explain to you everything your body craves. 

“I am making love to you, sweet girl.” He’d inform despite your dirty mind that imaged this repeatedly. Your hands would tug at his hair and you would bless him with a moan. “Taetae…” Your cries would be loud and he’d have to busy your mouth. 

He would whisper, “Dirty girl… Why are you moaning? You like your fiancée doing unholy things to you, hmm?” Then, he’d bite your bottom lip but your cries would only grow louder. 

Then, the only thing that would suffice would be Taehyung’s fingers in your mouth. “Open up, cry baby.” You’d follow his request like an obedient slut you are. Taehyung would only place one finger in your warm, wet mouth.

“Fuck… Such a warm mouth… Suck on it, baby. Keep your mouth shut, my pretty girl.” You’d nod.

Taehyung’d add, “And let me play with this little pussy. Can I touch you there, baby?” Taehyung knows you are a virgin so he’d ease you into it.

“Y-yes, p-please.” You’d whimper like a fragile bird.

“Oh, such a polite lady.” But he’d treat you the opposite of a lady. First, he would feel you over your garments, “Fucking drenched! You’re very excited right, baby? Hmm? I am too.” 

After a few kisses to soothe you, he’d start stirring little circles over your clit. As the cute bundle would be deprived of any stimulation, even the smallest touch would turn you crazy. 

“Tae…” You’d moan around his drenched finger.

“Hush!” He’d continue with a quicker tempo, scared of getting caught. “Do you want to climax, darling?” He’d mockingly ask you as your eyes largen. “Do you know what that means?” 

When you pliantly nod, he’d punish you for knowing what it is. “Oh, you do? I thought my sweet girl was innocent… I guess you can show me how it is done, right?”

With enough stimulation on your poor clit, you would experience your first real high in front of Taehyung’s eyes. He’d watch you as your face crumbled into pleasure and bite his finger off.  

The sound of the door opening snapped him back to reality, and Taehyung's cheeks flushed as he hastily straightened in his chair. “Well, well, well.” Jimin rushed into his office, catching Taehyung slacking. 

Jimin's excited voice filled the room, drawing attention to the news of the forthcoming wedding. 

“I was gone for two weeks, and I came back to have my best friends engaged to each other.” Jimin shook his head cutely as he sat down in front of the desk.

Taehyung chuckled as he sat back, “We aren’t technically engaged yet.” He pressed his lips together. “Miss Y/N wants me to propose her first.” 

Jimin's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Oh, the mademoiselle got her demands already, huh?" He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. He looked at Taehyung’s infatuated face. “She already has you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” 

Taehyung laughed with a soft and carefree sound that echoed through the room. "You have no idea," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with affection. "But I wouldn't have it any other way. I'd do anything to see that smile on her face."

“You were always like this, nothing new.” Jimin said. he teased, a reminiscent glint in his eyes. "Remember that time at the park when you made my tooth fall out because I scared Y/N with a frog I caught?”

Taehyung's face lit up with a mischievous grin. "Oh, how could I forget? You had it coming by scaring her like that." He laughed, the memory vivid in his mind. 

"Y/N was so scared, she wouldn't even talk to me for a week after that." Jimin chuckled along, remembering the incident vividly. "You were always looking out for her, even back then." Jimin's eyes softened with the shared memory.

Taehyung smiled, filled with nostalgia and gratitude. "Well, Y/N is very special to me, and I'll always try to keep her safe and happy."

Jimin nodded. "You two are meant for each other." His eyes welled for his best mate. He was so glad that the two of you figured it out despite your stubbornness. "Well, you better not keep her waiting for that ring. You wouldn't want to start off on the wrong foot with the future Mrs Kim, would you?"

Taehyung took a deep breath, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I am thinking of a way to propose her. I want to do it when she least expects it."

“Well, you are Mr Poet for a reason. I am sure we will figure something out.” Jimin teased as he offered Taehyung a cigarette. 

Taehyung shook his head no, “Y/N doesn’t like the smell of cigs.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, “Changed my mind, Mr Devoted!” 

Old friends laughed together and chatted about Jimin’s travels. Taehyung envied his best friend’s endless trips and wished to make them with you in future. 

—

Meanwhile, at Kim's estate, you had been trying on different fabrics for what seemed like hours. The bustle of activity never seemed to subside with excited gasps and humming of the dressmaker’s sewing machine crafting lining and moulds of the dresses you envisioned. 

Julia always had her charm and creativity with her. Even after being widowed, she was able to support herself as no man could with her captivating skills. She had known you since you came from Switzerland and she was quick to pick up on your style and taste. After a 10-minute chat, she placed sketches of her visions in front of you.

You put your teacup down, “They look wonderful…” 

The first dress they contemplated was a true masterpiece. A floor-length ball gown in a deep and rich burgundy shade, it seemed to embody sophistication and grace. The bodice was a masterpiece of lace, adorned with intricate patterns that seemed like they were inspired by the garden's most delicate roses. The lace flowed down to the full, voluminous skirt. 

The second dress you examined was equally enchanting, though more charmingly and playfully. It was a tea-length gown in a soft pastel blue. Delicate embroidery and intricate beadwork adorned the neckline and sleeves.

Then was the most special dress, the one you wished to wear to your engagement party. You want it to be simple and elegant. You want Taehyung to look at you and fall in love with you again and again, desperately want you as his wife. The coloured, off-the-shoulder satin dress with the soft, lustrous fabric draped delicately over your frame, subtly highlighting your natural curves. You could imagine Taehyung’s eyes fluttering as his manly hands gently caressed your skin. His hands were usually shy, not wanting to scare you away, but his eyes were always hungry, eating your clothes away. You want to make him loose control of his hands and hold you forever.

After making a few changes, you were stripped to your undergarments whilst Julia expertly took measurements and diligently sewed the initial drafts of your clothes. 

Taehyung's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, all leading back to you, as he left work early, unable to focus on anything but the thought of your company. The horse-drawn carriage took him swiftly back home.

As Taehyung's carriage neared the Kim estate, the magnificent stone walls came into view, bathed in the warm, golden hues of the setting sun. The ivy-covered facade of the mansion lent a timeless, almost ethereal beauty to the entire scene.

The sound of horses' hooves on the cobblestones echoed through the trees that lined the estate's long driveway, creating a rhythmic melody that seemed to serenade Taehyung on his journey home. The crisp, country air bore hints of blooming flowers and freshly mown grass, adding to the sense of serenity.

He couldn't help but gaze out of the carriage window, the anticipation of seeing you making his heart race. As the carriage rolled closer to the grand entrance, the intricately designed wrought iron gates came into full view. 

He couldn't help but daydream about the life he envisioned building with you in this very estate. The thought of having children, watching them grow and play in these very gardens he spent his childhood in. The laughter of his own kids echoing through the estate was a scene he couldn't wait to witness.

And beyond that, he imagined you both growing old together in this tranquil sanctuary. Walking hand in hand in the evening, sharing stories of your adventurous youth, and cherishing the quiet moments. The years passed together, creating a tapestry of shared memories.

The carriage came to a gentle stop, the footman leaping down to assist Taehyung out. Stepping onto the cobblestones, Taehyung paused to appreciate the meticulously manicured gardens and the estate's stately exterior. The transition from the bustling city to the tranquil beauty of the Kim estate was always a sensory delight.

As he entered the estate, the air felt different, charged with excitement and a sense of bustling activity. He heard the faint chatter of voices and the rustle of fabrics. Making his way through the elegant hallways, he followed the sound to the sitting room, where the usual calm ambience was replaced by vivacious energy.

His heart quickened as he caught sight of you, surrounded by your mother and Mrs Kim, standing on the platform with only a skimpy gown on that did so little to cover your skin. You were wearing something close to nightwear, something that you would wear to bed and for his eyes only. With your bare legs, the sheer fabric did almost nothing to cover your skin. Gladly, the fireplace was well-lit to keep you warm. And yet, you were standing in front of the living room like a doll. Julia was bent towards your side stitching a draft for the bust. 

He felt his throat dry. Taehyung was sure he wasn’t allowed to see you like this yet.  He stood by the door, taking a moment to simply observe you before anyone noticed. Adjusting his cufflinks, smoothing down his waistcoat and most importantly his trousers, he took a deep breath, bracing himself for the joyous chaos that awaited him.

He coughed, “Am I allowed, ladies?”

Taehyung's sudden appearance startled the ladies, and a faint blush crept onto your cheeks as you quickly tried to adjust your gown, which earned you a notice from Julia.

Your mother kissed him welcome. “Of course, what a question!” His mother was too busy talking to one of the apprentices, describing something urgently whilst holding a gorgeous blue satin.

“Taehyung!” You welcomed with him the brightest smile. He noticed your body wanting to jump towards him.

“You're always allowed, Mr Kim,” Julia said before giving her all attention to you. “So, you don’t want it to end here, Miss Y/N?” 

“Exactly. I don’t like it when the back ends there. It gives me a weird hump.” You explained you turned your back to your viewers to show Julia what you were talking about. 

The piece of fabric you were wearing was a very basic draft of a bust so it could be folded and reshaped. Julia watched you through the mirror. She nodded. 

“I say we go either all the way up–” You pulled the extra fabric to your shoulders. “–or just backless.” 

Julia nodded, her expression thoughtful as she observed the garment. "I completely understand your concern, Miss Y/N. A backless design can be very elegant, especially for someone of your age. It just looks so beautiful.” She sighed before placing the needles to adjust the draft. 

Taehyung further concentrated on you and your bare back. Your muscles were strained as Julia worked very close to your skin. Taehyung gritted his teeth; he was scared of needles hurting you.

“I think Mr Kim might fire me if I accidentally prick you, Miss Y/N.” Julia joked. 

Taehyung gave her half a chuckle, “I am afraid I might.” Taehyung’s serious tone was hilarious to you. Julia has been your family’s dressmaker for over five years and she has never pricked you before. 

Taehyung carefully observed the way the dressmaker draped the fabric, her fingers working with such precision that every stitch seemed to be an extension of her artistry. Taehyung's admiration for the craft was only surpassed by the adoration he felt for the woman at the centre of it all – you, his beloved.

Despite the temptation to gaze at you without restraint, he remained resolute in keeping his demeanour composed. He knew he mustn't give in to his desire to drink in your ethereal beauty, not with so many eyes upon the two of you. Instead, he opted to immerse himself in the vibrant energy of the room, cherishing the moments that would soon become cherished memories of a love that knew no bounds.

After the rough shape of the draft was done, the bust was taken off your body. You quickly wrapped yourself in a more modest dressing gown to cover more skin. Julia retreated to the sewing machine as Taehyung’s mother approached you. 

“Y/N.” She called your name while holding a deep sapphire fabric. “I want to get this dress for you as a gift for the gala. I think the colour will suit you so perfectly, my darling daughter. This could be one of yours something blue! You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it, okay? I am– I am just so happy that you blessed our family.”

You genuinely could see her happy. Her eyes have been teary since you pulled yourself out from Taehyung’s bed fully rested, and accepting her offers to allow her to spoil you. You knew she was already extra emotional since her daughter, Taehyung’s sister, was away in a boarding school, so she had really missed having mother-daughter time. 

Taehyung's heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of contentment as he observed you and his mother exchanging heartfelt words. He cherished these moments, seeing the woman he loved wholeheartedly embraced by the family that meant everything to him. The deep connection between you and his mother reaffirmed his belief that you truly belonged in his life and in the Kim family estate.

He marvelled at the way you expressed your gratitude and warmth, reciprocating his mother's affection with such genuine appreciation. It was a sight that reinforced his belief that you were the missing piece in their family puzzle, the one who brought a different kind of joy and completeness to their lives.

"Mother, enough now," Taehyung chuckled as Mrs. Kim embraced you tightly, her eyes glistening with tears. His playful jealousy extended even to his own mother, it seemed. You joined Taehyung's laughter as he gently pulled you away from his mother's loving embrace.

"Stop making fun of your old woman! You don't understand how much this means to me," she sniffed, her voice wavering with emotion.

Taehyung intercepted your attempt to hug her again by your arm, his expression shifting to a more serious tone that you couldn't quite decipher. "Taehyung?" you queried, looking at his firm hold on you.

"You both are lucky to have each other," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I am so happy.” She added.

Your mother came to soothe her friend, Taehyung released his touch. “My friend, we have a long time to enjoy their happiness. It is your turn now.”

As Mrs. Kim's maid entered the living room, Taehyung knew it was time to leave. You made a quick decision to accompany him. "Taehyung?" you called out, stopping him in his tracks. "Can I have some of your time?" Your voice was tinged with a hint of shyness.

Taehyung turned to face you, his expression softening. "Of course, my darling. I came early to see you."

"Okay, that's awesome," you stammered, feeling slightly flustered. "Just give me some time to change my clothes." You hurried to keep up with his stride.

Taehyung nodded, his gaze gentle and understanding. "I'll change as well. I'll be waiting for you in the library near the guest rooms."

You bit your lip nervously, hesitating before adding, "My clothes are actually in your room. The maids were cleaning the main guest room, and your mother allowed me to use your room." With very frequent trips to each other’s home, the main guest room was always reserved as your room at Kim’s estate. As your position in the family changed, Mrs Kim allowed you to have Taehyung’s room. In addition, Julia brought the previous month’s order so Taehyung’s chamber was big enough to hold them.

Taehyung's eyebrows raised slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Is that so?" he replied, a sly smile forming on his lips. "Well, I guess we have to be roommates.” He giggled as he noticed your uneven breath as you walked to match his speed. He slowed down immediately. “Feel free to use anything you need; my room is yours. You know that." As the two of you ambled towards his room. 

Taehyung's steps were deliberately slow now. "Were you able to sleep, my darling?" His voice carried a tender concern, highlighting the depth of his care.

You felt a surge of warmth at his attention, the way he noticed every detail about you. Nervously, you bit your lip, you craved his simplest touch since this morning. You touched his elbow, begging him silently to understand what you were going to do. His intense gaze locked onto you, his expression a mixture of curiosity and tenderness. Your heart skipped a beat, and in a moment of desperate need, you reached for him, intertwining your arm with his, the connection soothing your nerves.

"Oh, darling…" Taehyung's voice was laced with amusement and affection. He lifted your hand, gently pressing his lips to the back of it in a tender kiss. Then, secure your arm in his. You answered him with a pleasant hum. Even the littlest change made your mind calm down with the desire to touch him

A shy smile graced your lips as you gazed up at him. "Yes, I slept amazingly." You whispered softly, finally answering his question. “In fact, I don’t think I slept this good in a while. Your bed was so comfortable.” 

“That’s amazing, my love. I am glad you liked where you will be sleeping in future.” he teased, his voice a smooth murmur that set your heart alight. His thumb continued to trace gentle circles on the back of your hand, a subtle yet intimate connection that sent delightful shivers down your spine.

He was being extra flirtatious because he knew you were easy to shy away and it amused him dearly. Even though your lips didn’t say it, he could see your body yearned for him.

Taehyung’s chamber was slightly rearranged to fit your new clothes as the maids scurried about, meticulously arranging your belongings on Taehyung's tasteful furniture, ensuring that your clothes remained impeccably neat. The room seemed to come alive with your presence despite the mess, and Taehyung's delight was evident as he watched his personal space intertwine with your essence. Even his belongings liked you. 

“Oh lord…” You whined. “I am sorry, Taehyung. I thought they were going to pack them for me.” Taehyung let your arm go as you covered your face. 

“That’s totally fine, my darling. Everything I own is yours. You can make every change your heart desires.” You peeked through your fingers, catching the affectionate glimmer in his eyes, and couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his unwavering support and generosity. His genuine words resonated deeply within you. 

The head of the maids spoke. “Miss Y/N, will you be changing now?” 

You nodded. “I will be, please stay to help me.” 

She bowed and closed the door, waiting for your sign. 

"Take your time, my love. I will wait for you outside," Taehyung gently encouraged, his warm breath grazing your skin as he leaned in to press a tender kiss on your forehead. Soft and affectionate, his touch conveyed a silent reassurance that filled you with warmth.

He pulled back slightly, his voice barely audible as he murmured, "I will take you out later, pretty girl." You looked up to him with excited eyes and lips curved into a smile. His gaze held yours for a lingering moment as you nodded. With a last, lingering glance, he turned and left his room to leave you to get ready.

—

You quickly got in one of your new dresses. You chose a dusty pink tea dress with cream-coloured heels. Taehyung didn’t take too long to change from his work suit to a casual one while you brushed your hair and powdered your face. 

As promised, he was ready to take you out after his sudden disappearance for 15 minutes. He showed his gentlemanly attitude when he asked your mother for permission to take you out despite knowing he would be granted. 

And yet, Mrs Kim cautioned the two of you not to get too close since the engagement hadn't been formally announced yet. Taehyung responded respectfully, assuring her, "I don't think it will be a problem, Mother. But do not worry, I would never do anything to damage Y/N's honor." With a bow to both mothers, he then took your hand. 

"Are you ready, my dear?" he asked, guiding you toward the waiting carriage. You allowed him to lead you, relishing the sensation of his strong, yet tender grip. As he helped you up into the carriage, you playfully teased, "Why would you lie to your mother, Taehyung?"

He recognised the teasing in your voice and waited for you to finish. “Do you think you will be able to keep your hands off of me?” You looked at his one arm curling behind you and resting on your waist while the other hand enveloped your hand.

 Taehyung bit his lip off as you tugged at his perfectly ironed cream shirt. “Who says I am taking you to a public place?” He teased. 

As the carriage sped up, he comfortably melted into the seat, sweetly pressing you between his body and the leather walls. He held your hand and explained. “Newly courting couples should spend their time together in intimate settings to get to know each other. Public appearances are avoided until the engagement is agreed and partners spend most of their time with each other’s family.” 

You rolled your eyes at him as he explained the etiquette to you.

“So…” Taehyung brought his lips to your ear. “As much as I would love to flaunt you, my pretty doll, we will be alone together…” His breath ghosted your skin.

You shivered next to him as your fingers dug into his. “Where are you taking me?” You asked. 

Taehyung pressed his lips together into a straight line and shook his head. “A surprise.” He quipped. 

"Taehyung, please tell me where we are going," you pleaded, tugging at his arm. Taehyung's lips curved into a secretive smile as he resisted your pleas, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's a surprise, my love. You'll know soon enough," he teased, savouring the anticipation.

You pouted, trying to feign annoyance but failing to hide your growing eagerness. "You know I don't like surprises," you protested, pretending to cross your arms in playful defiance. "Come on, give me a little hint at least?" Taehyung's eyes gleamed with mirth at your adorable antics. "If I tell you now, it won't be a surprise anymore," he teased, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smirk. "But I promise you'll love it."

You groaned in mock frustration, knowing very well that Taehyung enjoyed teasing you. "You're so mean," you huffed, although the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Taehyung's warm laughter filled the carriage, a delightful sound that soothed your impatience. "You'll thank me later, I promise," he assured you, squeezing your hand gently. "Just trust me." With his words, you couldn't help but settle back against the plush seats, your heart dancing with excitement for the mysterious surprise he had in store.

“Okay, I trust you.” It baffled Taehyung when you stopped being stubborn, shrugged and let your head rest on his shoulder. 

He hummed softly, his voice a gentle rumble as he pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head. With your head resting on his shoulder, he couldn't help but marvel at how much smaller you seemed in comparison to his frame. It made him feel protective and responsible for your well-being.

“Have you thought about when to have our wedding ceremony, Taehyung?” You asked dreamily. “It is the only topic your mothers talked about since yesterday.”

He laid his cheek on top of your head, “I’ve been thinking about the day I’ll marry you for a long time, my love.” He replied softly as you giggled.

“But I want to know what you think, seriously.” You moved your head, causing him to gently squeeze you. You looked up at his eyes.

"Perhaps next summer would be perfect. I want to have every kind of blooming flower to witness the day I take you as my beloved lady…” He said ever so sweetly.

As you rested your chin on his shoulder, a playful pout graced your features. "So, nine months later?"

He nodded, a serene smile gracing his lips. "That's correct."

You pouted slightly, and Taehyung couldn't help but be charmed by your impatience. "Nine months seems too far away," you sighed.

Taehyung laughed amused. “I thought I was the eager one to get married?”

You shrugged again; you weren’t the one who was good with words. You looked at his pretty side profile. He was a masterpiece, sculpted with elegant lines and subtle contours that made your heart skip a beat. His strong jawline, chiselled and defined, tapered down to a perfectly shaped chin. He was not only strikingly handsome but possessed a kindness and warmth that made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. 

Taehyung was taken aback by your touch, admiring so dreamily. Like he knew, you weren’t good with words so you touched him.

“You think I am not eager to marry you?” You said, voice adorned with a tint of sadness.

Taehyung opened his mouth, weighing his words before he uttered them. Before he could, you spoke. "You are my childhood love, Taehyung. You are the one who made my heart race so fervently that it felt as though it might burst from my chest. I loved you since I can remember. You were always my supporter, play friend, confidant…"

“Darling…” A gentle sigh escaped Taehyung's lips as he absorbed your words, realizing the depth of emotion that lay behind them. You knew that he was going to coo you but you needed to get everything off your chest.

"I never want you to doubt my eagerness, Taehyung," You added sincerely, your voice soft and reassuring. "I've loved you ever since, and my desire to be with you is never to be question… even though I am not good at showing you."

He looked into your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of fondness and enthusiasm. You could see that he needed to hear this. 

"We can get married tomorrow if you want," he suggested in a raspy voice, his eyes gleaming with sincerity. 

You couldn't help but giggle at the notion. "Well, technically, we did decide to get married yesterday. It would only be fair to act quickly and make it official," you teased back. 

Taehyung chuckled, playing along with the jest. "But are we ready to face our mothers' wrath if we did that?" he inquired with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

You widened your eyes playfully. "Oh, never! They've already chosen the colour of the napkins for the dinner after the ceremony at the church. Oh, and the wine we'll be serving too," you listed off with a grin.

 “I know that our mothers are eager, but I want you to know that you are the only person in charge to make decisions, okay? If you are shy to oppose them, just tell me and I will deal with it.” The way he granted you all the options and choices this delicately made you feel very special. He was just an incredible man.

You leaned towards his touch. “Okay, I will wait until summer.” Taehyung could figure that out since you hate winter. You let him kiss your cheek once again and gave him a beautiful melody of your laugh. “My princess…” He whispered against your skin, your smell tickled his nose.

As he thought your conversation came to an end, you spoke, this time without looking at his eyes as you laid your head on his chest. 

“What about the children? Do you want to have children with me?” You asked. 

Taehyung's heartbeat quickened at the question, a surge of warmth enveloping him. “Of course, my love. I only want healthy and chubby babies from you, no matter how many.” His low voice vibrated his chest as you listened to him. “The important question is if you want, my darling.”  Taehyung's fingers traced delicate patterns on your back, a soothing rhythm that mirrored the gentle sway of the carriage. 

You nodded, a serene smile playing on your lips. "I want to start having babies when I am 25 years old," you began, thumbing your fingertips onto his tummy. "The first baby at 25, preferably a boy, the second baby girl at 27, then the third one at 28. And maybe another one before I turn 30." You listed your plans.

Taehyung chest hummed under your ear with a very low chuckle, “I have a plan to keep up with, huh?” You wouldn’t even begin to imagine how ready he was to give you kids. Hell yes, he was ready to fill you up with his seed, make you bloat with it, make you whine about the mess he created, and make you cry with overstimulation. 

His mind drifted to the process of making him a father. Suddenly, the carriage was too hot for him. Your warm body snuggled to him was too much. 

Again, he needed to find another topic to busy his mind. “Honestly, we will be fine with two sets of adoring grandparents.” He couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at his lips, “Ah, yes, they will be spoiling our little ones rotten.” 

You joined him with a giggle as he kissed your head again. “My precious girl.” He whispered, making you shiver. 

You remained lying on his chest with his arms around you, his fingers caressing your waist gently as the carriage manoeuvred on the roads. You could see the change of scenery from a calm view of Kim’s estate to the bustling city and again to the countryside. 

“When will be there Taehyung?” You pouted. Your face was adorned with the traces of the button of his shirt. Taehyung chuckled as he pressed onto your soft skin. 

"We should be arriving shortly, my love," Taehyung replied, his voice a tender caress. You excitedly picked yourself off his chest and looked outside from the window. The carriage began to slow down, the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves growing softer as they neared their destination. 

"Are you excited to see where I'm taking you?" he asked, a playful lilt in his tone. His hand moved to intertwine with yours, his fingers lacing through yours as if he couldn't bear to let go.

“Yes, I am so glad that we will spend time together…Doesn’t matter where we are. But Taehyung… I am so hungry!” You blurted out excitedly, holding your stomach to emphasise. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart.” He kissed your hands that he was holding. “I will feed you good.” 

You laughed, “Will you hunt for food or what?” You pointed to the endless grassland that you were looking at.

Taehyung bit down his lips, “If I have to, yes! All those hunting parties aren’t for nothing.” 

You rolled your eyes as Taehyung let his body hang outside and spoke to the driver. Soon the carriage came to a halt. 

—

As Taehyung led you out of the carriage, the sight that greeted you was nothing short of breathtaking. A sprawling meadow, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, spread out before you. The air was filled with the gentle fragrance of wildflowers, and a light breeze rustled the tall grasses, creating a soothing, almost ethereal atmosphere.

You couldn't help but admire the beauty of the scene. "Taehyung, it's stunning here," you said, taking in the breathtaking surroundings.

When your feet hit the ground, he walked behind you and wrapped his arms around your figure. Your insides fluttered when you felt his rigid body fully. 

You took a deep breath and dropped your head to his chest, feeling a sense of serenity wash over you. "It's beautiful," you breathed, a sense of awe lacing your words. "But why did you bring me here?" You turned your face to him with a question.

Taehyung's smile widened as he squeezed your waist gently. "I thought we could have a little picnic here, just the two of us. A chance for us to enjoy each other's company in the midst of nature's embrace," he explained, his eyes never leaving yours.

Horses shuffled as the driver asked, “Will you be starting now, Mr Kim?” 

Taehyung unwrapped his arms, “Yes, we will. Please leave the baskets and you may leave to pick us up a few hours later.”

The driver approached the back of the carriage and retrieved the two well-stocked baskets, their woven exteriors brimming with an assortment of tantalizing aromas. He effortlessly balanced both containers and laid them at your feet, offering a courteous nod before retreating to his seat. With a light flick of the reins, the carriage rumbled back to life, wheels turning as it gradually disappeared into the distance.

You watched the carriage fade into the horizon, feeling a swell of contentment as you turned your attention to the treasure treat that Taehyung had prepared. You smiled at him. “Let us pick a tree and settle under its shadow.” He announced.

You smiled largely and tried to reach for one of the baskets. "Please, my love, let me handle this," Taehyung insisted with a warm smile, gently intercepting your attempt to take one of the baskets. He deftly manoeuvred them, balancing them with apparent ease. “I am your man, sweet girl. I’ve got everything under control.” 

You chuckled at his playful stubbornness, watching as he expertly balanced the basket and the blanket, his confident stride never faltering. "But Taehyung," you protested, "I can at least help carry something. It's not fair for you to do it all on your own."

He simply shook his head, his gaze warm and determined. "It's my pleasure to take care of you. You just pick a tree for us, my lady. I've got this handled."

You let Taehyung into the meadow, walking a few steps ahead. “I don’t want to sit too close to the water. Frogs are awfully loud.” As you pondered over which tree to choose, your gaze flitted from one to another, considering their characteristics and positions within the meadow. Taehyung watched you with a tender expression, his eyes following your every movement with unwavering adoration.

“Okay, okay, I will pick here!” You pointed to the large willow tree.

As Taehyung pulled the picnic blanket, you rushed to help him. “Darling, I said no.” He sternly warned you. “You are my wonderful princess, and you will do nothing but enjoy this gorgeous outing.”

You still held the side of the blanket as he laid it out for you. “Now, you sit beside the tree. Darling, do you want me to take your shoes off? Would that be comfortable for you?” He asked.

You nodded. “I will take–” Taehyung didn’t let you finish again and knelt before you, his nimble fingers delicately undoing the straps of your shoes. He handled each buckle with care. With gentle precision, he slipped the shoes off your feet, placing them carefully aside. “My princess never does things while her man is around.” He reminded you again. You bite your bottom lips and smile at him shyly, thanking him for the hundredth time. 

As you settled against the tree trunk, feeling the rough texture of the bark against your back, Taehyung slipped off his jacket, a gesture of warmth and protection. He gently draped it around your shoulders, ensuring that you were shielded from any pricking. "There," he murmured softly, his voice tender and soothing. "Is that more comfortable?"

You couldn't help but lean into the soft fabric of his jacket, feeling the comforting scent of his cologne enveloping you. The warmth of his presence cocooned you, his attentive nature making you feel cherished and cared for.  “I would have worn something else if I knew we were going to have a picnic.”

Taehyung shook his head no, “You look gorgeous, my darling. Don’t worry.”

The meadow's beauty was amplified as Taehyung began to unpack the picnic baskets, revealing an array of tantalizing dishes. The soft rustling of leaves above, the occasional songbird's melody, and the gentle warmth of the sun created a romantic ambience.

Taehyung's strong, lean form knelt gracefully beside the picnic spread, casting a handsome shadow under the midday sun. His fingers worked deftly as he removed each item from the baskets. The sunlight danced in his hair, highlighting the copper tones in his dark locks. You felt yourself drool over his figure; your body felt tingly with pleasure by just looking at him.

He unveiled a bottle of sparkling champagne and two crystal flutes from the icebox, and gently wiped the extra water off of them. "Of course, some bubbly to celebrate our time together."

Then, he revealed assortments of finger sandwiches with different fillings, including cucumber and cream cheese, egg with mayo, and chicken salad. "I thought we'd have a variety," he explained. "But I know you have your favourites."

Next, he set out a selection of cheeses and fruits. "I will prepare you a gorgeous charcuterie board, sweet girl.” 

Then, he looked at your eyes with a short pause. “You were asking me why I was gone just before we left, right?”

You nodded as he dug inside the icebox. "Look at what we have here," Taehyung said with a playful glint in his eye, his voice infused with excitement, as he carefully lifted a metal tray brimming with freshly baked eclairs. "I was so afraid that the chocolate would melt, but it seems the icebox did its magic." 

“Taehyung! Those are my absolute favourites! Oh, I didn’t even know they were baking them,” you exclaimed, your eyes gleaming with anticipation. You were already leaning in, eager to savour their irresistible flavour.

He arranged the delectable pastries on a delicately designed wooden board, each one exuding a rich, inviting aroma. As you gasped in delight, he couldn't help but smile at your exuberance.

Taehyung, after arranging the eclairs, playfully licked the remaining chocolate from his fingers. You looked at him with a pout, your eyes fixed on the lingering sweetness.

“Do you want to taste?” Taehyung's voice was laced with amusement as he offered his chocolate-coated fingers to you. Without a moment's hesitation, you closed your eyes and wrapped your mouth around his proffered fingers, savouring the rich, decadent taste of the chocolate that lingered on his skin.

Taehyung realised his mistake as your warm mouth wrapped around his finger. He felt dizzy as in a second his body pumped all of his blood to his dick. He let his moan gurgle out as a low growl. The way your tongue caressed his fingers sent shivers down his spine. He marvelled at the softness of your lips, the gentle pressure with which you held his fingers by his wrist. 

For a brief moment, his mind wandered to realms of this current moment’s possibility. You would take his invitation to delve into the uncharted territory of the sweet dance of love if he asked. But he had to be careful and gentle with you. You were too precious to be used mindlessly, just because he felt like it. 

“Taste amazing…” You complimented with a glint in your eyes, you seemed very well aware of your actions.

“Y/N…” He whispered your name as the breeze hit his wet fingers. He had the urge to suck your spit off his finger but was currently frozen in his stance.

“Should we start our picnic? I am starving.” You pouted him innocently as Taehyung sat down. 

Taehyung replied, his voice came out raspy. You settled into your comfortable spot, the vibrant colours of the meadow surrounding you, adding to the magic of the moment. Meanwhile, Taehyung started to prepare the charcuterie board for you. He always had a perfect artistic eye, so he created a beautiful assortment. 

As he worked silently– mostly to calm his raging body– you picked up the finger sandwich. The egg and mayo ones were your all-time favourites as the platter mostly consisted of them. You couldn't resist the urge and with a playful glint in your eye, you extended the half-eaten sandwich toward him.

"Care for a bite?" you teased, your eyes dancing with playful affection. Taehyung rolled his eyes but accepted it with a smile, his lips brushing against your fingertips as he savoured the taste. 

“Hmm, why is it sweet!” He said with a faux surprise. 

You looked at him confused and ate the small piece left in your hand. “You made it sweeter by touching it with your sweet lips!” He retorted, his gaze soft and affectionate. It was his turn to overwhelm you despite he couldn’t play dirty like you.

You pouted your lips adorably as you fell into his trap and continued the savour the scene. As Taehyung picked up the champagne bottle. “We should start with a toast, right?” 

He weighed the bottle in his hands and read its label to you. “The finest champagne for my lover, dear Y/N.” his thumb traced over the intricate label. "Brought all the way from the vineyards in Reims, France. It's a vintage 1889.” The strong and lean muscles of his arms flexed ever so subtly as he deftly twisted the bottle. Your gaze lingered on the strong lines of his long fingers and the way he moved with practised ease.

"Is there anything you can't do elegantly?" you quipped, a note of admiration colouring your voice. Taehyung glanced down at you, a playful glint in his eyes. He let you savour the sight of him for a moment. Then, he coaxed the cork to release with a satisfying pop. You squealed, genuinely scared.

Taehyung laughed at you airly. You playfully swatted him on the arm, teasing him for scaring you. His laughter was infectious, filling the meadow with its warmth. "You just scared a family of squirrels Y/N!” he teased you further whilst pouring the champagne into the delicate crystal flutes. The liquid bubbled and frothed, its golden hue catching the last rays of the sun.

“I shall make a toast for you, my dear.” He announced as he held his glass up, his voice was warm and rich as he spoke, and his eyes locked onto yours with unwavering devotion. "To the most wonderful woman a man could ask for," he began, his voice carrying the weight of his sincerity. "I am beyond grateful for every moment we share, and I promise to spend the rest of my days making you as happy as you make me."

You felt a rush of emotion swell within you, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man sitting before you. Before he could gesture you to drink, you raised your glass too. "To the man who has stolen my heart and continues to fill my life with joy and mischief," you said, your gaze unwavering. "I promise to stand by your side, to support you, and to love you unconditionally, for all the days of our lives."

With that, you raised your glass and clinked it against his, but throats dry with overwhelming emotion. “To your health.” He said and drank the entire glass in one go. You chuckled and joined him with a sip. 

—

After the two of you devoured most of the sandwiches, you were worried that your time with your lover was about to end. So, you angelically called his name, “Taehyung…” He looked at you with curious eyes. “Cuddle me.” You pushed the plates and opened your arms towards him. 

Taehyung gave you a lopsided grin as he crawled towards your lap. “Put your head on my lap, darling. I will feed you.” You murmured as he took his place on you. Normally he would oppose to this position, but he has been supporting a raging boner since you licked his fingers despite gulping down four glasses of champagne. Even though you could see the very obvious tent on his crotch, he didn’t want you to feel what you had done to him. 

He laid between your legs, over the length of your pink skirt. he laid his head on to your soft thigh while letting his hand rest on the opposite one. He hummed sweetly when you brought your hand to his hair.  “Let me take care of you too, baby.” You whispered; his lips curved into a soft smile.

He had never been this close to you despite all the cuddling he received. He was, now, very close to your intimate spots. Your perky chest was a few inches from his face, slightly obstructing his view of your face with their plumpness.

Your tummy was soft against his head, he was filled with intention to bury himself into your flesh, bite your soft skin. “Open up, Taetae.” Instead of your delicious taste, you gave him a grape. Taehyung gladly accepted it as he nestled into your lap. He was ridiculously tall, his feet were outside of the blanket. It felt like a giant was on top of you as his smallest move shook your body. 

“I can already hear my mother’s nagging about where I took you, what we did, what we talked.” Taehyung sighed as he smiled. 

You continued to caress his hair with a giggle. “She is so excited. She is planning our wedding like it’s the biggest event of the century.” 

He shook his head onto the soft meat of your thigh, “That doesn't surprise me. My mother loves grand affairs, and she is beyond delighted that you are my bride. And Jimin, too. He visited me at my office today, and he was so delighted for us. We haven't seen him that thrilled in a while."

“He might be happy because of the free booze.” You loved your alcoholic friend regardless. 

Taehyung's expression softened, and he looked thoughtful. "Speaking of friends, Eunjin…” You gave Taehyung an airy laugh when he mentioned his sister with this much scare. 

“She's going to lose her mind when she hears the news of us getting married. Ahh! I can’t even imagine the squeals. Let us uninvite her, darling." Taehyung squeezed his eyes, but he didn’t mean the annoyance. 

Fond memories of your childhood friend and Taehyung's sister flooded back. "Taehyung! You know we can’t do that. I already want her as my maid of honour…I really miss her. It’s boring to go tea parties without her."

Taehyung chuckled, "I am sure she will make sure everyone behaves well.” He reminisced about his little sister and her control issues.

You shared a warm smile, appreciating the shared memories you both had with your families and friends. 

"I think Namjoon won’t be surprised." You mused, thinking about your sweet and clumsy brother who was currently outside of town, attending a hunting party.

“He already knows,” Taehyung replied, his tone nonchalant.

"What do you mean he knows?" you inquired, a furrow forming on your brow.

Taehyung shifted, his expression becoming more serious. “Well, I have been preparing for this for a while now,” he explained, his gaze intense.

Confusion clouded your features. “Preparing for what, Taehyung?” you pressed, wanting to understand.

“Princess…” he hissed, a possessive glint in his eye. “Your father spoke to me about our future together before the summer started. So, I have been readying myself to be one of the prospects.”

“Before summer? It is more than three months ago?” As you absorbed his words, you felt a mixture of surprise and a thrill of possessiveness at his declaration. He nodded, “You have many bachelor candidates waiting for you, pretty girl.” Taehyung leaned in, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your thigh as he listed some of the eligible bachelors from various corners of the world with disgust in his low voice. "There's Carl Harrington, the textile magnate from Madrid. Then, Louis Beau, a barrister in London. Then there's Edmund Sinclair, heir to the prominent shipping company in Scotland, a man of stature in the maritime world."

As he recited the names, a tinge of possessiveness crept into his voice, showing his unease with the idea of you being courted by them. With those words, Taehyung lifted himself up from where he had been lying on your thighs, his head now resting against your heart, his nose tickling your skin. The alcohol in his body didn’t help him to make the right choices. Every etiquette, every rule disappeared from his mind as you pulled him in with your sweet smell. 

“Well, I can’t lie, I had some points in my block, but I had to be the best one for you, darling.” he murmured, his jaw set with determination.

“What made you think I would want them? You have my heart, Taehyung. I don’t think you need any other qualifications,” you stated firmly, your gaze meeting his with unwavering affection.

 “That’s great, my sweet girl, because you belong to me now. No other man…” His voice was a soft murmur, his breath caressing your skin as he claimed you. 

He rubbed his nose against your collarbones. his lips left a trail of soft, lingering kisses along your collarbones, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine “I want you to know, my love, that I won't allow anyone else to have what's rightfully mine," he declared firmly. “I will give you everything as your husband, okay?” 

You obediently nodded; head only filled with his presence. 

The fervour in his declaration was palpable, and you found yourself surrendering to the intensity of his love and devotion. 

“Taehyung…” You hummed his name just like in his dreams. Taehyung noticed the slight confusion in his voice as he kissed your skin one last time. 

“My love…” He mimicked your voice as he supported his whole body with his one arm. He was equally captivated. “Y/N… Can I kiss you?” He begged you silently, his nose brushing your cheek.

“Y-you know I haven’t ha-d my f-first–” You blabber. 

“I know, baby. I know… Do you want me to be your first?” Taehyung didn’t have the intention to be this desperate, but you made him so weak.

“What if I am bad?” You closed your eyes as his nose continued to rub your cheek. 

“Never, my darling. But if you don’t want to….” He licked his lips and took a deep breath to have enough of your captivating smell.

“I- I want to…” You murmured. 

“Oh, baby...” Taehyung whimpered. 

Taehyung's heart pounded as your request hung in the air, his desire for you only intensifying. His gaze never wavered from your face, drinking in the beauty and vulnerability that you displayed in this moment.

The world around you seemed to fade into oblivion, and all that remained was the two of you, drawn together by an irresistible force. Taehyung's hand, trembling ever so slightly, cupped your cheek, his thumb tenderly tracing your lips. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, a silent request for permission.

Your heart raced, and a thousand thoughts flooded your mind. What if you weren't good at this? What if you disappointed him?

Gathering your courage, you nodded slightly, granting him the permission he sought. With a soft sigh, Taehyung closed the remaining distance, and his lips met yours in a sweet, unhurried kiss. It was a promise, a beginning, a declaration of love. His kiss was gentle yet ardent, his breath mingling with yours.

When Taehyung's soft lips met yours, it was like a delicate brush of silk upon your skin. The sensation was an exquisite blend of warmth and tenderness. His lips felt like a gentle whisper against your mouth.

The kiss, rather a prolonged peck, carried a need to express the depth of his emotions, yet it was imbued with patience as if he were willing to wait an eternity for you. His lips were slightly moist, shaking but still sure of what they desired.

“This was your first kiss, right?” He asked, his tears were about to fall from his cheeks.

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded. 

Taehyung pressed his lips to yours again as you froze in your place. “This was your second… I am your first and second.” 

“Taehyung…” You whimpered. 

Taehyung looked up to your eyes with fear, what if you regretted this already?

But your lips were curled into a content smile as you sucked on your bottom lip. “Hmm?” Taehyung couldn’t speak. 

Your eyes were closed but your smile got bigger. “You like that?” He gathered the courage to ask you. You nodded. “You gave me my first kiss…” Your voice was so quiet, scarred of ants and bees hearing you.

Taehyung’s arm grew weak, and he placed his back into your neck, lying on his side. “I did…” He whispered.

“Oh my Lord! Taehyung!” Your voice filled your lungs cheerfully. “You gave me my first kiss!”

Taehyung was a weak man. He was on a tide of emotions.

—

He was either poisonously possessive and jealous which made him bitter, or he was head over heels with ever-growing love. After sharing two quick pecks, his heart couldn’t slow down despite the relaxing encouragement from you. You weren’t different, you wore a delusional smile on your face and giggle with the remainant taste of him. 

After having the kiss, he laid back on your thigh, taking deep breaths to savour the moment. As he laid on, his driver returned, marking the time as 4 p.m. It was time to return home. Taehyung packed the stuff up hurriedly, he shoved most of the stuff back into the baskets. But Taehyung helped you get the carriage with utter gentleness and held your hand during the ride back home. 

On the ride, Taehyung's gaze occasionally shifted toward you, his eyes conveying a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness that had become all too familiar. The ride back felt shorter than the journey there, perhaps because of the warmth that enveloped you both at the newfound intimacy.

You stole glances at him too, admiring the subtle lines of his profile, the way the fading sunlight played upon his features, casting a golden halo around his countenance. The tender memories of your first kiss lingered, the sweetness of the moment still etched in the recesses of your mind.

Your entrance back to Kim’s estate was wordless too, your bodies thriving in the spell of love together. Taehyung’s henchman greeted you at the door with a big smile. As you entered the house, Taehyung took your jacket off for you. “Thank you, Tae.” You shivered when his knuckles brush your shoulders. 

“Your mothers are at the blue drawing room, Mr Kim.” The henchman announced as he closed the door behind you.

You and Taehyung proceed into the room as another maid took your jackets. Ever gentleman, Taehyung offered you his arm. You accepted, “The blue drawing room is my favourite!” You quietly squeal. 

Taehyung gave you a sweet chuckle, pecking your temple. He could see the little girl he used to chase down the halls with your words. “Are you ready for the big inquisition?” He asked.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “Take me back to the meadow!”

As you and Taehyung entered the lavish blue drawing room, the silver and blue furnishings gave the room an air of refined elegance. The intricate silver-framed portraits adorned the walls, complementing the lavish blue draperies that billowed gently in the evening breeze. The chandeliers above illuminated the room with a soft, golden radiance, casting enchanting shadows across the floor.

Both your mother and Mrs Kim had already adorned themselves in their evening finery, complete with sparkling tiaras that added an extra touch of glamour. Their eyes lit up as they spotted the two of you, immediately eager for the details of your day.

Taehyung greeted them first, “Oh lord! The room is so bright with your elegance, mothers!” Taehyung's playful charisma shone through as he addressed the company in his charming manner. 

They gave Taehyung a melodic giggle, “Son, you are a charmer as always.” Your mother said.

“Come on, sit down, you love birds. Tell us what you have done!” Mrs Kim chippered quickly. Your mother gave her a knowing look. “How was your day, my dear Y/N? Did my son treat you well? If not, you just only tell!” Her hand reached for her heel.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of their interest. "It was absolutely delightful, thank you! Taehyung took me on the loveliest picnic. We had the most wonderful time together under the sun." you replied, your voice filled with the remnants of the joy and excitement from the day's escapades.

"It sounds like very romantic day…" Mrs Kim added with a soft sigh, the memory of the picnic bringing a pleasant warmth to your cheeks. Both of the mothers couldn't help but express their admiration and fondness for the idyllic setting. 

Your mother, with a playful glint in her eye, interjected with a teasing remark. "Yes, but you two used to bicker so much, it's a wonder you didn't drive each other crazy! It seems you've found a way to get along." She shot a knowing look at Mrs Kim, who chuckled in agreement.

Taehyung, always quick with a quip, responded with a grin, "Oh, well, Y/N came long way, I think. She even shared her eclairs with me, isn't that right, my darling?" He reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as his eyes met yours with a twinkle.

You pouted with a huff, “Taehyung!” Just like that two of you returned to bickering. 

—

masterlist |

[agustdiv1ne]

hi!! congrats on 3k <3

for the event, could i request taehyun + twilight + fluff/smut

tysm! and congrats again!!

NOW SHOWING...

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: fantasy/supernatural, fluff, smut

wc: 2.8k

details + warnings: mdni, vampire!taehyun + human!mc are not representative of any particular characters they're just vibing in the twilightsphere, taehyun (looks-wise,,) + mc are in their early twenties, sex in the great outdoors, dom!tae, sub!mc, mc is kind of a masochist LOL, light spanking (f receiving), praise, thigh riding, face sitting, tae calls mc: baby

note: thank you nonnie!! i hope you enjoy :))

you maybe, kind of, sort of hate the town that is forks, washington.

forks, in your honest opinion, is...painfully gray. clouds constantly hide the sun from view. it is almost always raining. fog is the norm, not the exception. the real cherry on top is how the town is blocked in and divvied up by expanses of creepy trees of which you have no desire to step even a single toe into. it's dreary, it's boring, it's weird — and it's just all too fucking gray.

you wonder what your life would be like if you had left while you could, if you had uprooted your life and attended college in some state far, far away, if you had gotten a degree and become a teacher or an artist or even some bigshot lawyer. maybe you wouldn't be wasting the years of your youth in your parents' little diner. maybe you wouldn't be stuck with the indelible expectation that said diner will be yours one day, hanging dark and heavy over your head like the storm clouds that loom over your house ninety-nine percent of the year.

then again, if you had left, you would never have met taehyun.

he moved into town when you were nineteen, an age at which you were hard-headed and bitter because everyone else your age had already moved on to bigger and better things while you were abysmally stuck like a tire in mud. you felt abandoned, alone, and you saw yourself in him because he, too, seemed to have no one else.

at the same time, you also thought he was a little strange — stoic, reserved, out at odd hours of the night — but you couldn't really judge, lest you sound like a raging hypocrite. you remember the first time that you saw him: it was well after midnight, you had just closed the the diner, and the streets were eerily empty — yet there he stood, across the street, turned away towards the tree line. he seemed to have been watching something in the woods, but as soon as he picked up on the crunch of your shoes against the gravel parking lot and saw you behind him, he fled, gone as quick as lightning. you almost thought that he was a figment of your imagination, that you were finally losing it after your nearly lethal consumption of caffeine that night.

however, after that incident, he began to show up during your shifts, sitting in the far corner of the small space for hours, answering your questions with curt nods and quiet hums. very real, very much not a hallucination. he never ordered anything other than a water, and his eyes often stayed trained on the woods that lay just outside the windows. watching, waiting (for what, you didn't know, but you didn't really care to find out). though the fact that he never once ordered something — not even a basket of fries, or a milkshake — irritated you to no end, but you bit your tongue like a good waitress had to and allowed him to sit there. not many people stopped by at such late hours, anyway, and maybe his presence cured some of your loneliness; he wasn't good company, by any means, but company nonetheless.

one particular night, a few months after he began to come in, things simply weren't going your way. if the argument between you and your parents before your night shift started wasn't enough, you burned your forearm when you accidentally spilled a pot of coffee and slipped and fell onto the unforgiving linoleum floors while carrying two plates of food. by the time he showed up, you were in the middle of a full-blown mental breakdown and could barely hold back tears as you greeted him at his normal booth.

“are you okay?” he had asked, his eyebrows furrowed, betraying his typically apathetic expression. in response, you burst into tears, apologizing as you attempted to run to the back, but he stopped you, his ice-cold fingers looped around your wrist. the sensation sent shivers straight down your spine, something that you can still vividly remember. you whipped around to face him. his wide, carob eyes cut through you with an intensity that you’d never experienced before. “sit. with me, i mean.”

“i-i’m working,” you choked out. 

his lips formed a flat line. “no one else is here.”

“fine,” you mumbled, taking a seat on the other side of the booth. he had let you vent about everything and anything that plagued you, silent while he listened. the words he spoke once you finally exhausted yourself stick in your mind to this very day.

“it’s never too late to start carving your own path, y’know. you’re young, you have time.”

things changed after that night. a friendship bloomed, then a relationship began after about six months of knowing each other. things changed again, however, growing strange once you did begin dating. he made constant excuses as to why he couldn't sleep over and why you couldn't come over to his place; he didn't touch you often; and the weirdest of all his habits: he never, ever went anywhere near your neck, whether it be with his hands or his lips. loneliness and the acrid feeling of being unwanted returned in full force, nipping at each and every nerve within your body.

sick of it all, you eventually confronted him about it during a picnic date in a large clearing one evening. naturally, when your boyfriend admitted to you that he's a vampire — in the middle of the woods — and showed you his sparkling fucking skin, you were freaked the hell out. yet, in the end, it didn't scare you away, especially once he said that he only ever fed from animals he'd find in the woods. you cared for him just as much as he cared for you — human or not, you decided that you loved him either way.

(also, he'd always seemed a little off, other. maybe you were a little satisfied to know that you were right, but you'd never admit to that.)

nearly two years have passed since then, and while your feelings about forks haven't changed in the slightest, taehyun brings an ironic sense of life to the dismal little town.

“you’re staring.”

you feel your face heat up at your boyfriend’s words, your gaze immediately diverting away. you were not staring, no way. though he moves to find your eyes again, you maneuver out of his hold, now glaring at a spot on his shoulder. “no, i wasn’t.”

“aaand your heart rate just picked up.”

“you’re so unfair,” you hiss. “just— just keep your stupid vampire senses to yourself!”

he laughs, the sound light and melodic, as he attempts to wrap his arms around you again. you've turned away from him, arms crossed over your chest and in a state of faux despondency. he knows just how to press your buttons; the fact that he can pick up on each and every minute change of your heart rate and scent will forever be something that gets to you. you can't hide anything from him, and both of you know it.

you feel like you spend every waking hour with taehyun nowadays. if you're not working, you're with him doing fuck all just to spend time with each other, but even in the most mundane moments, boredom never becomes an issue. even right now, as you lay together in this small clearing in the forest, simply talking and staring up at the pewter clouds, everything feels...right? complete? you think that's the word that you should use — like the final piece being placed into a puzzle.

“c’mon, you can’t stay mad at me,” he goads. he blows into your ear afterward to make you flinch, earning a yelp in response. “you just make it so easy to tease you.”

“yeah, yeah. make fun of the defenseless human,” you sigh, turning back around to face him with pursed lips, delivering a firm poke to his forehead. “you’re lucky that you’re pretty.”

if he had said anything similar to you a couple years ago, you would've likely stormed off and ignored him for hours. you're not proud of how you once acted, but at least you've grown softer around the edges over the years. kinder, less resentful. and rather than tear your walls down, he scaled them slowly and met you at the top, took them apart brick by incorporeal brick as the trust between you grew, gentle and never prying.

one of his eyebrows raises. “pretty, hm? is that all i am to you?”

pretending to think, you tap your chin, your eyes shifting up towards the sky. you've grown softer, no doubt, but your witty edge refuses to disappear. how else could you keep up with him?

you make eye contact with him again, finding an expectant glint in them. you can barely bite back the smirk fighting to pull at your lips. “hmm...yeah, i think that’s about it.”

“you are such a brat, my god,” he groans, head falling against your chest. “is your life goal just to rile me up?”

“honestly? yeah. it’s just so easy to tease you,” you throw his earlier jeer straight back into his face, but the words are soon followed by a series of shrieks as he pushes you onto your stomach, unfazed by your feeble attempts to break away from his inhumanly strong hold. a hand leaves your wriggling waist to deliver a light slap to your ass. it’s careful, barely there. he knows how much more fragile you are compared to him, after all. the last thing he’d want to do is hurt you. 

what he doesn't account for is the way you'd moan at the sensation.

a tense silence overtakes the air around you, the only noises remaining being the rustle of trees and the chirping of birds. you've all but buried your head into your arms. although your current position renders him unable to catch your flustered expression, your scent — fuck, your scent has changed, something heady and sweet and it's almost as if he can taste the lust and need rolling off of your form. your blood rushes faster beneath your skin, the erratic ba-bump of your heart loud in his ears. he pushes his base instincts down; he's better than this. he can't hurt you — he won't.

“you— did you like that?” he carefully asks, a gentle hand pressing into the middle of your spine. it’s not often you find each other in spontaneous intimate moments, mostly due to his fear of losing control, but your trust in him is immutable. in the span of two years, he has not once hurt you — but you still find yourself shaking your head in denial, the embarrassing heat gracing your cheeks keeping you from looking at him. he won’t hurt you, you know that, but that doesn’t change just how mortifying this moment is. you and him haven’t explored this part of your sexuality yet, the hidden side of you that enjoys a little pain amongst all the pleasure. it’s something that you’ve barely touched upon yourself.

taehyun, on the other hand, isn't satisfied with your answer. a morbid curiosity eats at his nerves, and he can't help himself from gathering you into his lap so that you straddle his hips. you are wearing a thick pair of jeans today, but it's not enough to prevent your scent from overwhelming his senses further due to your spread apart thighs. he steels himself, trying not to press the pads of his fingers into your hips too hard. you still refuse to look at him, your head hanging low and bottom lip tucked beneath your teeth. he brings a hand to your chin, tilting your head up. your eyes divert to his shoulder under his intense gaze.

“look at me, baby,” he orders softly. he watches a shudder run through you before you listen to him. the muscles of your throat contract as you gulp, though his expression remains neutral, his fingers squeezing your chin. “i’m going to ask you one more time: did you like that? did it feel good?”

inhale, exhale, nod.

his lips purse. “words, baby.”

“y-yes,” you whisper, weak and breathy, like you don’t want to admit it to yourself either. it earns you a quiet “good girl” and his thumb brushing over your lower lip. 

taehyun stares at you for a moment before he asks, “do you trust me?”

of course you do, and you tell him just that, pulling a smile from him. “i want you to take your jeans and panties off for me, okay?”

you nod, rolling off his lap with shaky limbs and removing everything below your waist. the chilly air nips at your bare skin.

he takes no time in maneuvering you back onto his lap, legs straddling only one of his thighs now. you send him a questioning glance, with which he responds by rubbing soothing circles against your bare hips beneath your oversized sweater.

“get yourself off on my thigh,” he encourages. he doesn’t trust himself to be inside of you right now — he’s barely keeping it together as it is — but that won’t stop him from making you feel good.

you're silent as you take an experimental roll of your hips. the friction of your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans causes your mouth to fall open. you press your hands against his chest, grinding down again. and again. and again. the picnic blanket below you digs into your knees. taehyun grabs your hips a little tighter, beginning to help you move your hips faster, pressing you down harder. his grip is nearly bruising, but the ache that it brings renders you speechless, unable to speak besides the quiet gasps that you let out. quickly, you grow lost in the pleasure, the delicious friction against your clit growing more intense as the seconds tick by.

smack! taehyun brings a hand down against the swell of your ass, much harder than the teasing one he gave you earlier. you jolt on top of him with a loud moan, clenching around nothing. “tae— fuck!”

“yeah? what is it, baby?” he coos, slapping his palm down again. he’s barely breathing, monitoring your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you too much. but all he finds is pure, unadulterated pleasure, your head thrown back and your eyes fluttering as your movements grow more desperate. his head grows fuzzy at your strengthening scent.

“gonna— ‘m gonna cum, please,” you whine, nails now digging into his chest. you look like pure sin, with your flustered face and heaving chest and your glazed over eyes straight into his. “please please please—”

he can't take it anymore.

suddenly, your body careens through the air before you can even process it, your thighs now cushioning taehyun's face while he fully lays back. he gives you no time to complain of your ruined orgasm, his lips suckling your clit while his tongue circles the weeping bud. your hands grab at his hair, pressing down. there's no way that you can hurt him, so you allow yourself to grind down on his face like you did his thigh, using his face as your own personal toy. he gropes your ass all the while, pushing you further down against him until you smother him, ravaging you whole. you can no longer hold in your moans, and they only serve to spur him on. one of his razor-sharp teeth slides against your lower lips, and that's enough for your high to wash over you, your vision flashing white while you quake above him. he holds you up with strong hands, continuing to tongue at your clit until you're pushing his head away.

“tae, stop,” you beg while he cleans you up, ignoring your heightened sensitivity. “tae.”

“fine, fine,” he mumbles once he pulls his mouth away from your center. “can’t help it, you taste good.”

“quit being embarrassing,” you groan, your submissive tendencies all but gone. you struggle to lift yourself off of him and wiggle your jeans back on. he ends up helping you, patting your ass when you’re all done. you slap his chest, but you lean up and press your lips to his anyway. pulling away, you slide a hand under his sweatshirt. above, beams of sunlight break through the thick clouds, illuminating his skin. biting back a smirk, you rub a thumb over his cheek where it shines. 

“take me home,” you purr. “we’re not done yet.”

you're careening through the woods moments later.

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