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awrkive · 6 months ago

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THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, fin. — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 43.2k idcccccc atp😭 take ur time!

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, hopeless romantic!oc. dont read further warnings if u dont wanna be spoiled: ANGST. im aware i kinda overkilled it here but uh.. hear me out! explicit sexual content [ male mast*rbation, oral s*x (f&m receiving), making out, dry h*mping, penetr*tive s*x (protected and unprotected, missionary, cowgirl, doggy, spooning), a bit of c*mplay, jk <3 boobs, ily kink (redacted) cries during sex lol ]. FLUFFy fluff fluffff 😖 some of the scenes give very much like 2000s romcom vibes but idc sue me also theres a #merder reference ifykyk

NOTES we have finally reached the end! sorry it took me a month to get this out sjdfhd but its here and its long as fuck n im so proud of this and happy that i finished a series!! for once!!! will always love my silly tlp couple and the characters 🥹 let me know ur thoughts on my inbox oki and circulate by liking and reblogging if u enjoyed reading hihi ty ok bye enjoy reading!🫵🏼🫵🏼 [ important: pls make sure to read the note below ]

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

A day passed since the fiasco at the villa happened and Jungkook and you have acted like total strangers since then. The rest of your friends easily took notice of it; the silence between you two on the ride to the airport, the not-so discreet way you avoided each other at the waiting area, even going as far as exchanging seats inside the plane when on any other day, you two didn’t mind being close together physically.

Jungkook knows absolutely that the avoidance is doing you both a disservice. You’re both grown adults and going to extreme lengths to ignore each other – like not even looking at the other when you bump in the hospital hallways – is a one-way ticket to your relationship’s foundations crumbling.

That thought terrified Jungkook so much that he decided to come clean tonight. Talk to you properly when his mind is cleared and there was no Mingyu to aggravate his thoughts and project actions he’s not necessarily proud of – because the fight was juvenile, he knows that. Him committing and giving in to violence is not something he wants you to see, no matter the context. You were right when you said that was not him, and Jungkook can’t have you thinking otherwise.

When he steps in front of your apartment door, he thinks if you’re already there. He isn’t entirely sure. You two haven’t seen each other at the hospital and you haven’t been texting him either. You might still be doing your rounds, he thought, but when he opens the door to your unit and trudges his feet to the living room, he catches a sight of you going out from your bedroom.

The two of you freeze upon seeing each other, but Jungkook’s surprise soon turns into confusion when he notices the carry-on luggage in your hand.

“Oh, you’re here,” You utter, filling the silence in the air. “I was just going.”

“Where?” Jungkook instantly asks, taking you both by surprise.

But you quickly recover. You give him a small smile – but what Jungkook clearly sees is a wince.

“I’m going over to my sister’s,” You must’ve seen the way Jungkook’s boring holes at your pink luggage, and so you take a glance at it momentarily, tugging on the handle to scoot it over closer to your side. You clear your throat. “I’m staying there for a while.”

Jungkook feels a certain weight drop on his shoulders, his lips parting at your declaration.

“__, i-if this is about what I said, you don’t have to leave—”

You cut him off quickly. “No. It’s not that. I just… I just need some time away.”

Even though he doesn’t like the implication, he gets you.

Blinking, he thinks what to say next. Jungkook doesn’t want to say the wrong words – he’s well aware of the fact that he's put his foot in his mouth back at the resort, and he’s not fucking up the second time around.

While he intended to talk to you tonight to address the elephant between you two, he also understands completely why you need time for yourself. It was too much. He told you a lot of things and he can’t expect you to process all of them in a single day.

So, he nods, still stricken, heart heavy when he looks at you again. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You repeat, voice a little louder than him. A pregnant pause, and you’re pulling up the handle of your luggage again, the wheels gliding on the floorboards as you begin to head towards the door to your apartment.

Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound so alarmed when he suddenly blurts out, “Now?”

He doesn’t even know why. It was the obvious. You’ve packed your things – you’re heading out. But he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like there’s a sense of fear clouding his mind the more this moment of you leaving stretches out further.

You stop on your tracks, blinking at him. “Y-yeah?”

“Oh.” Jungkook feels his hand itching to do something. Something stupid like grab your wrist gently to make you stay.

But he knows that’s futile. He doesn’t have the right to make you stay if you don’t want to in the first place.

“Seokjin’s actually coming in a few minutes,” you tell him, glancing at your phone. “My sister’s still at work, so she made him pick me up.”

Jungkook can only give you a nod.

It makes sense for your brother-in-law to come pick you up. It also makes sense for you to stay over their place considering that their apartment isn’t that far from the hospital and you won’t have a hard time commuting to work if you planned to stay there for a little while.

He wonders, though, why you aren’t staying at Doyeon’s instead… he doesn’t know if you’ve talked already, but from what it seems, you aren’t talking to the rest of your friends, either; judging by the way he hasn’t seen you together with any of them at the hospital. Taehyung had suggested that maybe you just need time, to which Doyeon and Nayeon agreed to. Jungkook can’t help but feel bad, though. You’re seemingly coming out isolated at the end of his own doing. If you’re avoiding your friends just because of him, that would be extremely unfair to you. Taehyung, Doyeon and Nayeon are just as much as your friends as they are his, and during these times, you should feel comfortable taking solace in their friendship like how he’s leaning on them currently.

Guilt washes over him at the thought. He can’t bear thinking about you hurting in the process of all of this. He just wants so badly to make it up to you, for you both to be okay again. You didn’t even have to acknowledge what he said – about him being in love with you. You could totally ignore it and act like it never happened, go on about your days like nothing changed as long as you’re by his side.

It hurts. It hurts that even when you’re just physically within his reach right now, he can’t seem to get a hold of you. And he has no one to blame but himself.

A phone rings and Jungkook watches as you fish out your device from your pockets.

“Must be Jin.” you say, picking up the call. You exchange a few words with your brother-in-law for a few seconds before hanging up and looking at him again. “He’s outside already.”

Jungkook nods, biting back the words that consist of something stupid like “don’t leave”.

“Your car…?” He hesitates, remembering how you’d drive to work.

“It broke again yesterday. I’m actually… uh… thinking of just selling it. Get it over with.”

Your car. You mentioned your parents have turned it over to you during your junior year in college. It always broke in the most inconvenient times – like the one time you had a bad date, and you panicked-texted him about the car towing company not picking up. It was a Sunday and Jungkook was supposed to go over some paper works, but he scrambled out of his room to get you – and he didn’t regret it one bit because you were actually crying the moment he arrived. You had been overstimulated, what with another failed date and your broken car – it was all too much. And you just needed Jungkook to be there. You told him so.

Jungkook cherishes those moments a lot. Not because you cried in them – he always felt like it was a punch to the gut whenever he sees you even an ounce of upset – but because it tells him that you trust him with that vulnerable side of you. It means he’s important enough to you to let him in your life. It’s one of those moments where Jungkook truly steps back to reevaluate your relationship – because sure, it could be merely friendship to anybody, but Jungkook doesn’t really think so. Your bond runs deeper than friendship, and he doesn’t even mean romantic. It’s the… camaraderie. The partnership.

He could’ve confessed a long time ago – that’s what people kept saying, but what they don’t know is that he has so much to lose. You are more than just the woman he would love to kiss and make love to or call his girlfriend – you’re the love of his life, you’re everything to him. And if he can’t have you in any way, he’d truly break.

And now that everything’s said and done – with him finally baring his truth to you – it’s come to this.

You, leaving.

The silence that follows pricks Jungkook’s skin like needles, and the creak of your steps on the floorboards ring in his ears – a daunting harsh whisper of your farewell – although it’s just temporary.

But something worries him.

What if it’s not temporary? What if during your stay at your sister’s place, you decide to completely get rid of his company for the good and better?

It’s all those frantic thoughts that urges him to call your name, but he doesn’t expect your voice overlapping with his as you say his name at the same time.

Jungkook’s lips curl up slightly. “What is it?”

Predictably, you wave your hand at him. “No, you first.”

“It’s okay.”

Your hand hovers over the handle of your suitcase as you pass by him, stopping on the threshold of your apartment. “I just…” you trail off. You look at Jungkook for a moment. “I just wanted to say bye. And uh… that… I drank all your banana milk in the fridge. But I’ll wire you the money later. Or buy you another batch and I’ll give it to you at the hospital or—”

Jungkook cuts you off by calling out your name, broken by a laugh of amusement. His first smile today, maybe. You look at him wide-eyed. It’s fascinating the way you have him completely wrapped around your finger and you’re not even doing anything.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to wire me anything.”

“Oh... well, I’m still sorry.” He nods, giving you a small smile. “What was it you wanted to tell me, then?”

Right now, he forgets what it was even all about. “Just, uh, please tell your sister and Seokjin hyung I said hi.”

Jungkook doesn’t want to delude himself into thinking that your face flashed a look of disappointment for the briefest moment after he said the words. At the back of his mind, he thinks you were expecting more – but he knows he’s reaching, grasping for straws, and he’s just desperate for anything from you he can’t really rationalize his line of thinking.

So with a final wave of your hand – a bit timid – you turn around and open the door to your unit, and Jungkook watches as your form disappears completely, leaving him stoned in his position in the middle of the living room for a long time; head empty, body numb, until he gathers time to collect himself and finally move over to the bathroom, where he takes a cold shower in hopes for an improved mood.

It didn’t really do anything, and he found himself having a hard time sleeping – waking up randomly during the wee hours of the morning.

When he stirs awake from his blaring alarm at 5:30, he’s nothing but adrift.

It feels weird when he goes to the kitchen and he doesn’t see you, as he expects you to be there in whatever worn up shirt from high school you still have, making toast or some quick breakfast – with your playlist playing from your phone – but you weren’t.

And Jungkook remembers that would be the case for another few days to come. Something he has to be okay with.

For the meantime.

He hopes.

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often, but now, his friends are assuming he is. For the record, though, he is not drunk and they are just exaggerating. Sure, he’s staggering and he’s mixing up his syllables and grammar – but he swears he just feels a little woozy.

“Jungkook,” Doyeon calls him, laughing a bit. “Come on, Taehyung’s driving you home.”

“Don’t want to,” He says as he takes another swig of his fifth canned beer he’s been consuming since they all arrived at the barbecue place. “I can handle my alcohol.”

Which — fair. That’s not new news. But still—

“No shit, you have a shift tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Don’t be stubborn. It’s time to go home.”

“It’s fine, I’ll Uber back.”

Jungkook watches as Doyeon rolls her eyes.

“Are you really moping right now?”

He sends her a glare – one that she predictably does not take seriously. “‘M not moping. You’re moping.”

“And I’m Kate Bush. Taehyung, can you just drag Jungkook out of here? I think he’s gonna cry any minute now and the auntie is closing. We gotta go.” Nayeon butts in, and even though her words may seem harsh around the edges, she looks at Jungkook with a concerned gaze. The playful atmosphere from earlier now dissipating.

Jungkook appreciates the warmth that he gets from Nayeon’s gentle approach to everything – but right now, all it does is make him feel pitiful. Doyeon’s right. He is moping. Moping for something that should’ve been within his control in the first place.

“Man, you know you bench way more than me. I can’t carry you out all by myself if you’re all drunk and shit.” Taehyung nudges him on the shoulder, enough to make Jungkook move from his seat. He only grumbles.

Doyeon sighs. “What do you want, Jungkook? Call __? Tell her you’re getting wasted and come pick you up?”

Jungkook visibly flinches at the mention of you.

Ever since they arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook has noticed that his friends have been deliberately omitting your name in the conversation – until now, anyway. He thinks they all planned this spontaneous hang to “cheer him up” or whatever the fuck Taehyung said on their way here – which seemed like a slip-up, because Doyeon had hit the back of his head lightly right after saying it.

They’re walking on eggshells around him like he’s some kind of house of cards – one nudge and a blow and he comes crumbling down.

Jungkook hates getting doted on like this. It’s not like you two broke up. They just knew that you went to stay at your sister’s place for a while and you never said when you’re coming back. He hasn’t had any encounters with you at the hospital nowadays – you’re getting good at hiding from him and the rest of the gang, and every single day bleeds into countless sleepless nights. You’ve been gone for five days; no calls, or at least a text. And it seems like you deactivated your IG. You aren’t tweeting or reblogging shit on Twitter as well. You’ve gone completely silent – and with every waking moment that Jungkook spends a day without your presence, it feels like you’re slowly slipping through his fingers.

“No.” he glares at the three of them. Standing up, he feels his vision dancing at the sudden action.

Well. Maybe he is sort of drunk. A little.

“Hey, man, let’s go.” Taehyung ushers once again. This time, Jungkook acquiesces but with a groan. Nonetheless, he lets Taehyung wrap his arm around him to prevent him from tripping on his own feet.

When Jungkook manages to stand firm on the ground, he shuts his eyes tight to get a hold of himself and once again look at Doyeon and Nayeon who are still sitting by the table. With a confused expression, he asks, “Thought we’re all going?”

“Minhyuk will pick me up.” Nayeon says. Jungkook nods, directing his gaze to Doyeon.

“Somebody’s picking me up, too,” When Jungkook squints his eyes at her, she rolls her eyes. “Don’t start. Tae, drive safely, okay? You didn’t drink, right?”

Taehyung shakes his head and gives both women a reassuring nod before they head out of the building when goodbyes were bid, with Taehyung still pressing a hand on Jungkook’s back because he’s still a bit unstable on his feet. It’s not bad, though, Jungkook doesn’t think so. He just feels dizzy and shit, but it’s not anything water can’t solve.

Fuck, now he wants to get in bed as soon as possible. After a cold shower.

“Sorry, man.” he says as he plops down on the passenger’s seat, buckling the seatbelt around himself.

Taehyung comfortably settles on the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror a bit before starting the engine. But not after he responded to Jungkook with a snort, “It’s fine.”

It’s a quiet car ride and Jungkook can already feel his eyelids threatening to fall, the haze of sleep already clouding his mind. He can’t recall how far it takes from the restaurant to his complex, but soon enough, Taehyung’s voice wakes him up from his stupor.

“You okay there?”

Jungkook hums, leaning back to relax his nerves. A minute flies and he sighs loudly, making Taehyung look at him momentarily.

“Don’t sleep on me. Again, I am not willing to carry you all the way to your apartment, fucker.”

That makes Jungkook laugh, a snicker escaping past his lips. It makes Taehyung do the same, scoffing at his friend as he did so. The car ride continues into a stretched-out comfortable silence before Taehyung breaks it with a question of, “You two still haven’t talked?”

Jungkook stiffens at the mention, and he knows his friend notices the way he did, but he quickly tries to shake it off. “Yeah. She’s still at her sister’s.” Taehyung nods. When Jungkook looks at him, he decides to ask, “What ‘bout you? She reached out yet?”

“No.”

Jungkook inhales a sharp breath.

This is bad. You’re ignoring all your friends because of him.

“Sorry.” Jungkook says after a pregnant pause.

“What for?”

“Dunno. Feels like it’s all my fault,” a sigh escapes past his lips again. “You guys don’t deserve to get caught up in this.”

“Jungkook,” There’s a lilt to Taehyung’s voice that reminds Jungkook again that the man beside him is older than he is and sometimes, Taehyung can be way more mature, almost like an older brother. He forgets their age difference most of the time. “Don’t say that. __ just needs her time. She’ll come around.”

The smile Jungkook gives his way is bitter but it’s a smile, nonetheless.

“I don’t know, Tae,” He leans his head back on the seat, staring at nothing in particular. “It’s different this time.”

“You’ve fought before,” Taehyung points out. “How is this different?”

Jungkook does know what he’s trying to point out. He may be referring to the time in third year of med school when you didn’t talk to him for a month – but still. This, right now – whatever is happening – is far from what happened back then.

“Just different,” He shrugs, a poor attempt at nonchalance so Taehyung doesn’t think he’s being pathetic. “I feel like this is it.” Taehyung looks at him curiously when the red light turns on. It makes Jungkook squirm, but he voices out what he feels, anyway. “I’m losing her.”

That felt weird the moment it slips his tongue. For the past few days, it’s been in his head – making up the mess of his thoughts. When he said that, for once, it felt like finality. Like its verbalization actually made it real.

He does feel like he’s losing you. And it feels like the absolute truth.

“You can’t say that when you haven’t even talked to her, Jungkook,” Taehyung says and he says it so firmly. When Jungkook studies the older guy’s face, it’s etched with sincerity, especially when he adds, “Do you really think she’ll let go of an almost decade-long relationship just because of what happened? Frankly speaking, even if she does not feel the same way about you at all, I know her enough to know that she’ll have at least the decency to let you down properly. I think she’s just trying to think all of this through. She’ll talk when her head’s clear.”

Jungkook finds himself processing his words. You are exactly like that. You’re the type of person to need your personal space when you’re confronted by huge predicaments. When he thinks about it – you have so much on your plate. Mingyu, him, your relationship with each of them; Jungkook realizes things must be so hard for you right now, both emotionally and physically. And you’re dealing with all this while still showing up for your rotations.

“You’re right.” Jungkook whispers.

“Just… time, okay? You both need time.” Taehyung says and for once, Jungkook smiles a genuine one.

The light turns green, and Taehyung continues to drive.

Taehyung decided to turn up his jazz playlist and it eased Jungkook’s mind a bit. But it did lull him to sleep all the way to his apartment complex. Thankfully though, it only took Taehyung a few seconds of nudging him before he stirred awake, disoriented when he opened his eyes only to hear his friend say they were already there, ushering him out of his car.

He said his thanks to Taehyung, and his friend made sure to tell him to take it easy before he took off. When he was gone, Jungkook went straight to the elevator to press his floor, mind and body working on autopilot as he sauntered over the hallway to stop in front of his unit.

When the door opens, he feels a sense of calmness at the sight of his own place with everything at his disposal including the bathroom that he quickly head towards, not hesitating to strip himself naked on the way to the shower, letting his clothes form a heap on the threshold; bare and naked without a care in the world.

Stepping into the shower box, he turns the showerhead on, hissing at the cold water spraying onto his skin. He needed the cold to get rid of his sluggishness – and it works just as instantly as he’d hoped.

Both of his hands shoot up to brush his hair off his forehead, and he stays in that position for awhile; with the water running on his body and his head leaned back a bit, eyes closed as he relaxes.

He mindlessly reaches for his shampoo bottle, but when he opens the cap, he smells a completely different product. What welcomes him when he opens his eyes back again is the familiar sight of Bath and Body works bottle. Your water lily springs body wash.

Despite his current headspace, it brings a smile to Jungkook’s lips.

Right.

He’s noticed in the past few days that you left it in your shared bathroom. Considering all the things that you still have around the apartment, it didn’t really look like you packed a lot of things when you left – which should ease Jungkook’s mind. Still, though; the small size of your luggage and the quantity of what you brought with you do not matter when you still aren’t home.

And with that, Jungkook feels himself slipping back into… mulling again. And he can’t help but heave out a sigh.

He just… wants to rest for tonight. Just wants his head emptied out. Relax. He feels like he’s been on edge for the longest of time and he just needs some sort of – he’s not sure – comfort? Maybe something along the lines?

And as if his hand has a mind on its own, he grips the bottle of your body wash and squirts an ample amount on his palm, the scent of water lily springs surrounding the confined space of the shower immediately.

He lathers it all over his chest, inhaling the gentle waft and how it weirdly calms him from the inside. The room smells just like you. He smells just like you. And it isn’t the first time he’s doing this – he’s always liked the way you smelled, and he may have used your body wash by accident countless of times. Jungkook sometimes does it just to tease you – because you always point it out when you notice that he smells the same, and then you get all irritated and it makes Jungkook keen because you’re just so goddamn cute when you glare at him and when you get mean. Teasing you also means that you’d get mad enough to sulk at him, and that gives him the opportunity to make it up to you; and making it up to you means he gets all of your attention.

It’s pathetic but Jungkook’s not ashamed to admit that – just to himself, though. He likes when you give him attention, can you blame him?

His mind goes back to the memory of you cuddling with him on the ground at that random playground near your complex, how you snuggled up to his arm, giggling and threatening him to stop using your body wash. He remembers all the times you would cook together on nights when you’re both free – lounging on the couch mindlessly, either watching a show and debating over useless, stupid stuff – or when you would force him to rub your foot or massage your neck. Jungkook doesn’t relent until after you complain for a good five minutes. He’s gotten better at pretending overtime that he doesn’t look forward to touching any part of you.

At that thought, he recalls the way your back felt on his hands when he rubbed sunscreen all over it when you were at the resort. How the plane of your gorgeous skin felt so smooth to the touch, how you make him feel even with just the slightest baring of your skin.

Jungkook shuts his close when his mind goes into overdrive.

You. You. You and your bikini. You and your short shorts that might as well just be panties in disguise. You and those cute little, tight camisoles you always wear around the apartment. How he could just sometimes see the outline of your nipples where the thin material of your shirt clings to. How your bare legs look so good when you cross them while reading the paper on a Sunday morning by the kitchen island. How your breasts look like they could fit in Jungkook’s big palms with a bit of overspill – enough to drive him insane.

These are the thoughts in Jungkook’s head as he continues to lather the liquidy texture of your body wash all over his body – and when his hand finally nudges the dick in between his legs, he groans.

He’s not a stranger to getting off to the thought of you – you’re a gorgeous woman and it doesn’t really help the fact that he’s been in love with you for god knows how long – but it doesn’t mean that he does it guilt-free. He almost always feels like shit afterwards.

But he can’t help it. Not when you’re all over his head again. Not when he’s thinking about how good it would probably fucking feel if he could just have a taste of your plump lips. How it would feel if he could just suck on your neck, paint you with his love there, down to your cleavage then play with both of your tits with his hands – be greedy with it – get your nipples rock hard and pretty tight for him, suck and latch and nip and lick them, make sure it’s all wet before he goes down more south.

God. He thinks about it all the time. How’d it feel to go down on you. You’re so fucking pretty he could just imagine how gorgeous you would look down there, too. Were you the type to like getting eaten out? Jungkook hopes so. Because he would do everything to satisfy you. Fuck, he’d be so good to you. He’d tease your clit with his thumb first and you’d tell him that you’re aching for him bad – and he’d cave in and get his first taste with the flat of his tongue and fuck. You probably taste so good he’d crave it for days to come.

The next thing Jungkook knows, he’s holding the base of his cock firmly, feeling it getting harder every second. It grows in his hand as he continues to think about eating your pussy, imagining the sounds you’d let out, how you’d look extra beautiful getting fucked by his tongue. Shit. He’d do it so well if you just asked.

Jungkook traps his bottom lip with his teeth as he starts teasing his own cock, already in its full mass, hard and standing tall against his abdomen. He can see the shiny texture of his tip, precum leaking out, begging to be touched. He doesn’t wait any second to thumb the liquid off his head, letting out a half-sigh, half-hiss at how sensitive it felt, especially when he runs it over the veiny base.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Jungkook steps back a bit to cup his balls, squeezing it just enough to make him close his eyes. He repeats the motion of sliding his hand up and down his erect cock, feeling himself getting wetter at every second that passes.

He gets a picture of you on your knees, and as he pumps himself at a slow pace, he imagines it’s you instead kneading him. You have slender fingers and pretty nails, it would feel so much better if they were wrapped around his cock right now. Your nails would scrape against his length, and you’ve held hands enough times for Jungkook to know that his hand is significantly bigger than yours, so you probably won’t fit all of him in your hand – but that’s alright. You’d tease him on the tip instead, spread his precum all over, get him needing and wanting more.

Jungkook’s hips start to buck as he speeds up his pace, this time jacking himself harder as his mind jumps to more thoughts of you — but this time around, you’re not on your knees: you’re pressed on the glass wall of the shower box, your ass bent for all of him to caress and squeeze, and you’re craning your head to look at him with hooded eyes, lips parted into a gorgeous “o” as you beckon him to come closer and put his hard dick in your warm, tight, and aching pussy.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he lets his forehead fall to the wall, resting there for a few good seconds, other hand scrambling to turn off the shower and quickly shutting his eyes close as he pictures himself thrusting into you instead of his stupid fucking hand.

“Shit, shit, shit—” He hisses, hand going faster around his length, pumping himself desperately to the thought of his dick sliding in and out of you.

Your moans would fill the tight room, and you’d sound so pretty. You’d be so pliant against the strong arm that he would wrap you with — and Jungkook would make sure to flick your nipples and fondle your breasts as he pounds into you from behind.

“Fuuuuck…”

He grunts and he moans, hand impossibly going faster — dick getting harder. He just wants a release. He wants to cum so bad — to kiss you and love you and have you say it back with the same earnestness as him.

Jungkook wants so badly to have you in his arms right after he eats you out, to cuddle with you and pretend like you have all the time in the world after he’s made sure to make love to every single inch of your body. To caress your hair and press a kiss on your head anytime he likes – because he’s allowed to. Because you love him. He just wants to be able to touch you in any way possible. Run his fingers over your back, kiss your cheeks, and your scrunched nose. Just wants to bury his face in your chest after a long day at work. Hold you tight against him. Have you close to him, whenever and wherever.

But he doesn’t have all that. He can’t have all that. Not when you don’t even feel the same. Not when you reacted that way when he told you he loves you more than just his best friend.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. You’re not telling me the whole truth and frankly, I don’t believe you.”

Your words ring in his ears as he continues to jack himself.

The memory is still so vivid in his head — the surprised look on your face — certainly not the pleasant one. You were so… surprised. And angry. Like you didn’t believe any of what he said. Like you were trying hard to convince yourself that whatever you were hearing from him wasn’t true.

Because she doesn’t feel the same way. Jungkook thinks.

He remembers the night you left. How you could barely look him in the eyes.

“Shit—” Jungkook hisses as he squeezes his balls, hand pumping faster around his swollen cock. He closes his eyes as he tries to regulate his breathing, his stomach tightening at his impending release – and it’s the last thing he does in favor of his own sanity before his mind slips back again to life without you in it.

He would never have you. He can never be anything to you anymore.

He will never be, especially as he looks down at his hand on his cock.

How pathetic.

What would you think if you were to see him right now, getting himself off by imagining it’s you instead? You’d be so disgusted. You’d look at him like he’s a different person and feel betrayed because – how could the person you trust think about you like this?

There’s that sense of self-hatred again that Jungkook feels whenever he jacks off to you. That fear of you finding out and not liking it.

Jungkook tugs at his cock angrily as he thinks about all that, and he doesn’t notice that the stinging in the sides of his eyes would soon turn into tears running down his cheeks as he tries to reach his climax.

You would hate him so much. You don’t even like him anymore. Don’t even want to live with him anymore.

But he just wants to cum so bad. Just wants to feel some sort of clarity. Delude himself into basking in that quick dopamine.

He traps a sob in his throat as he makes quick work of his cock, and with one last squeeze around his tight balls, he shoots his hot cum to the wall, hips bucking at his orgasm.

Letting out a series of hushed curses, Jungkook continues to pump his cock for more until he feels sensitive, and his dick turns soft and languid against his legs.

He grabs the shower head to spray the cum off the wall, feeling the water already turning lukewarm. When he finishes cleaning his mess up, he grabs your body wash and exits the shower, throwing the bottle in the trash can with haste as if it burned him. As he turns back around, he catches sight of himself over the lavatory’s mirror.

There are dark circles under his eyes — not too visible — but they’re there. His eyes are red from crying, and suddenly his body itches. He should shower again and actually clean up this time.

But Jungkook realizes as he stares at himself again… he has never looked so tired. Not even in med school. Or during internship.

This whole thing is taking a toll on him – he knows that well by now. Even his friends do as well. He’s fucking up his sleeping schedule and he’s not even eating properly. He hits the gym not because he wants to but because it helps shut down his head.

Jungkook sighs.

He’s long accepted that the love he holds for you is so big it sometimes borders on piteous. He’s spent so many years going into this kind of phase where he just mulls over the same thing; that he loves you, but you will never ever feel the same way back.

And the thing is, he's always been okay with it. Jungkook loves loving you. He’d be a fool not to when he genuinely thinks that you were made to be loved.

But at this point, he just feels… tired.

Exhausted. Empty.

He wants to sleep. He wants to rest. He wants to wake up the next day and not feel like shit anymore.

Maybe Doyeon was right back at the villa.

It is time to move on.

And maybe… just maybe… unlike all the other times he’s attempted to do the same thing, this time around will be successful.

Your 7am to 2pm shift had just concluded when you arrived at your sister’s place, only to see them both all dolled up, ready to go out.

They told you that you could come with them if you liked, but of course you refused. You’re not the type to interrupt a date and they were certainly too in love for your liking. Don’t get you wrong, you love that for both – but you’re getting pretty sick of romance these days and you’re trying to avoid it as much as possible. Seokjin made sure to throw another one of his “Don’t mope around, okay? We have Macallan in the cupboards. You know the one.” jokes, though – having already known why you’re here in the first place – and your sister pinched his ear painfully enough for you to ignore and roll your eyes at him lightheartedly.

Which leads you to now, binge-eating a left-over tub of vanilla ice cream on a Sunday afternoon from last night’s impulsive purchase. You know it’s going to make you feel like shit later, but you can’t really bring yourself to care – not when the ice cream tastes too good paired with a Sex and The City episode.

You like to delude yourself you’re the early season Miranda; independent, boss bitch, career-driven, straightforward but kind. But you had a mortifying realization that maybe you’re actually Carrie. You’re both so obsessed with love and glorify the idea of “The One” that you overlook red flags in a guy just to stay in a relationship. And for what? To be completely broken and fucked over in the end of it all.

But you don’t want to be Carrie – sure, she has a special place in your heart as a fictional character but real-life Carries, with all of their delusions and ideals, are not meant for the real world.

“You’re watching that show again?”

You almost fall over the couch when you hear a familiar voice behind you, and when you crane your neck to look who it was, your eyes widen.

“Mom!” you exclaim, rightfully surprised. Your mother – in the flesh – smiles as she sees you grin. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you’d be here— wait, how’d you get inside?”

She waves you off. “You know your sister and Jin gave me a duplicate key to their place. Anyway, I’m just here to drop off some side dishes. Also, I know what you’ve been up to. And stop eating that ice cream.”

You pout, taking the tub away from you. When you see her walk towards the kitchen with her bags – presumably the side dishes she was talking about – you follow behind her steps, helping her load the containers in the fridge.

“What do you mean you know what I’ve been up to?”

“You and Jungkook fought, I heard.”

“Mom,” you say with a tone that tells her you don’t want to talk about it at all.

“You know I’m going over there shortly to give him these, right? Supposed to be for the both of you, but oh well, you’re lounging around here.” She says.

“I’m not lounging around here. They love that I’m here.” You counter, referring to your sister and Seokjin. It almost sounded like a whine, though, more than anything. But it was true! They like you being here! They’ve always treated you like their child… but you know you’re kind of pushing it with your sixth-day-stay.

Your mother looks at you disapprovingly, loading the last container before shutting the fringe doors shut.

“Whatever you’re fighting about, you know avoiding it is not going to make it better.”

You sigh. “I’m not even sure if we’re fighting, anyway.”

“What’s that mean?” Your mom asks, sounding confused. You can imagine.

“I don’t know… just – I don’t think we’re angry at each other.”

“Not being angry at each other is worse than being angry at each other. That sounds like withdrawal.”

You wince at her words. “Maybe.”

Your mom sighs. She takes out a bit from the container of stir-fried zucchini and slides you both a plate. “Have you been eating real food? You look like you’re not eating properly.”

Teenager and college you would’ve rolled your eyes because she always says that you’re losing weight and blah blah blah, but it’s not even true. However, you do know she’s just concerned, though, and so you nod your head, picking up a zucchini and eating it.

“Yes. Jin’s a good cook.”

She nods, eating as well. “So is Jungkook. He hasn’t talked to you at all?”

You thought you’ve dodged the topic of Jungkook completely but apparently your mom’s still on that. You nibble on your bottom lip as you think what to say.

“He… uhm… he didn’t text or call.” Well. There was one time. Two days ago. And it was just a simple text about informing you of the sudden change in the OR schedule. You replied to it with a thanks and a smiley face, but he didn’t say anything after that — not that your thanks should guarantee anything. That was not exactly a conversation starter.

Still.

“Have you talked to him?”

Shoot.

You shake your head a bit.

The truth is that you can’t be sad about Jungkook not reaching out when you haven’t been doing the same thing either. You’re running away from him – you can admit that. The past week hasn’t been your proudest moment. You’ve thought it over countless times; why you just can’t go ahead and speak to him – because heck, for eight years you’ve always done a good job at it, communicating with each other when things went wrong. Like when he teases you too much and you actually get offended, and the same goes for him.

But what happened wasn’t just something that came out of a supposedly lighthearted banter. It wasn’t your usual banter at all.

“What happened, sweetie?” And this time your mom’s voice is bordering on concern.

You don’t look at her when you say, “Jungkook said he’s in love with me.”

You don’t get a reaction. At least – the reaction you were expecting. You thought she would gasp, or at least let out an, “Oh”, but there’s none of that. When you peer up at her, she just nods.

As if the news was no surprise.

“And I take it didn’t go well?” She looks at you gently.

“N-no,” you stammer. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “It was – it was so messy that day, mom. You know we went to that resort for his birthday, right? He and my boyfriend fought, and just – so much happened. I don’t even remember half of it. Just that he told me he’s been in love with me for the past eight years.”

Your mom nods. “Your boyfriend… is that Mingyu?”

“Yes.” It feels weird to call him your boyfriend now. You used to be so giddy calling him that. But right now, it feels almost icky.

“Why did Jungkook and him fight?”

You told her what Jungkook told you – everything, and your mom is sweet almost all of the time but as she listens to everything that Mingyu supposedly did and say – especially about you – she can’t help but knit her brows in that quiet anger you know all too well now. But it soon dissipates to worry.

She steps closer to you. You look at her with a sad smile. With that, she encloses her arms around you, and you let your chin fall on her shoulder as you reciprocate her hug. You almost cry when she squeezes you. “How are you feeling then, sweetie?” She asks, voice so gentle and soft. Comforting. You think this has been what you needed all this time.

“Like shit.” you chuckle. “I’ve never been so tired. I haven’t even talked to Mingyu yet – I haven’t been talking to anybody, even my friends. I don't know why I’m like this.”

“You know I worry for you.”

“Hm?”

“You’re such a lovely, sweet girl. And these men keep breaking your heart. I wish I can ease your pain, honey. You have the biggest heart in the world.”

You nibble on your bottom lip as you feel that stinging in your eyes at her words. You remember Jungkook saying almost the exact same thing.

“Jungkook told me that sometime ago.” you say, holding back the cry you know is coming out any second now.

“He knows you well.” She says as she caresses your head.

“I just…” you let out a sigh again, trying to shake off the oncoming tears. “When he told me he loved me all this time, I said I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I still can’t.”

“Do you think he would lie about something like that?”

It’s firm and final when you say, “No.” Because you know in your heart that was true. Jungkook is anything but a liar. And especially about something like that… you just don’t think he would ever hurt you intentionally. That’d be cruel and Jungkook was never cruel. It’s just not in his nature.

“Hm. Then is it because you don’t feel the same way at all? That’s why you can’t believe it?” Your mom asks and it’s the most groundbreaking question you’ve ever heard after a while.

Do you just… not feel the same way?

That was definitely the biggest question you’ve been avoiding answering.

But as your mom pushes you slightly so she can look at you earnestly, gently, like she has no expectations whatsoever – just here to hold and comfort you – it beckons you into spilling your emotions.

“I… I really don’t know, mom.” You intake a sharp breath. “He’s been a constant presence in my life for eight years. We’ve never– we’ve never considered the possibility of being more than just friends. I– I don’t know why he would love me. Or fall for me. He’s never shown interest, the way I saw it – but these days I’ve been rethinking that and I’m beating myself over for being stupid because it’s like – how could I have not known? He’s always been so caring towards me. Always makes time for me. He’s never let me down and he’s just – he’s my person, mom. Always has been. And how could I have thought that he didn’t mean for that to come off as purely platonic?” you stop, feeling your lips wobble. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. All I know is that these days without him have been so painful, especially when we haven’t properly talked. I miss him everyday and it kills me that we aren’t like before right now. I want to be by his side all the time, and I think I may have taken that for granted for the past eight years we’ve known each other.”

You don’t realize you’ve let out so much, but your mom just lets you snuggle closer to her, knowing that you’re feeling a lot right now. And you do. You haven’t talked to anyone about what you really felt – not even your sister, even though you knew she did her best to do so – but as your mom soothes your back with the gentle rub of her hand, you let yourself be comforted.

“You know what I think, honey?”

You look up at her with teary eyes, nodding weakly.

She gives you a small smile. “Do you remember that time when I thought he was your boyfriend when you brought him for Christmas?”

Nodding, you chuckle. Second year of med school it was. Eunwoo was in Switzerland for a a big project – and Jungkook’s parents weren’t in town. You both didn’t have anybody to celebrate Christmas with and so you ended up asking Jungkook to come home with you.

It wasn’t just your mom who thought he was your boyfriend. Your sister and Seokjin also assumed the same thing.

Around that time, you haven’t introduced Eunwoo to them yet so basically, they didn’t know that you were taken already.

“I think this is just me being old… but you kind of… you get to know these things, __. You’ll see somebody's eyes, they way they gaze at somebody. When we were opening those gifts during Christmas eve, I saw the way that kid looked at my daughter with so much adoration that I even thought you were just being coy about him being your boyfriend.”

Your lips curl into a tight line.

You… certainly did not notice any of that. Did that really happen?

“I think Jungkook’s a good man, and your dad is fond of him – he asked me yesterday if you’re gonna bring him for Thanksgiving or Christmas, he misses his chess buddy, it seems. No pressure, though,” your mom chuckles. “But Jungkook’s smart, kind, polite, works hard, really charming—” you laugh again, despite yourself, because that’s definitely true. He charmed your parents so quickly with ease. It’s just really about his pleasant personality that attaches people to him. “But most especially, he makes you really happy. I liked that Jaehyun guy and Eunwoo because they made you happy when you were together. Up until they didn’t. I only like people who are good to you, sweetie. That was why I liked your ex-boyfriends for a while,” She begins caressing your head again and you feel like a little girl again, finding comfort in your mom’s bedroom after a bad day at middle school. Your mom smiles softly before she continues, “But those men hurt you. And they leave you. And you know who hasn’t in the past eight years? The only one who’s been consistent in making you happy?”

It’s Jungkook. He’s always been under your nose while you cried over other men, and he was there to support you through it all. He’s the one who makes you laugh at his stupid jokes. The one who sits with you in your feelings on days when you don’t feel your best. He’s the one who lets you cry on his shoulder when a surgery doesn’t go well, the guy who would drop everything for you with one text or call, the guy who gifts you stupid, stupid random things because they reminded him of you. He’s the guy who shares his playlists with you, comments silly stuff on your equally silly posts, and he’s the only one who has never, ever made you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the only one who has never left and hurt you.

It’s always been Jungkook.

Your mom doesn’t need to say the name, though, just one look at you and she knows you're thinking the same thing.

It’s during midday at the hospital when you see Jungkook again.

The elevator dinged and the doors finally opened on your floor, but you froze in your position when you saw who was inside the whole time.

It was Jungkook, sitting slightly on the handrails while crossing his arms. His posture straightened for a bit as he met your eyes, looking equally surprised as you. But then he recovered and relaxed in his position just as quickly.

You couldn’t read the look on his face.

Taking a hold of yourself before the door automatically closes, you stepped a foot inside the lift and pressed on the button of your floor immediately. The 7th floor button is lightened up, so you assumed Jungkook was gonna get off earlier than you since you were going down on the sixth floor.

The confined space had never felt more suffocating. You could feel there was something in the air – a thick tension that was getting too hard to bear every second you felt the elevator moving down.

There was a lump that formed in your throat, especially when you caught a glimpse of the reader going floors down fast, and the 7th one was nearing.

Your heart beat erratically against your chest. You didn’t even feel that nervous back in the OR twenty minutes ago.

But you figured it was the first time you felt close, after all.

It was funny, really – what you felt at that moment. Being physically close to Jungkook had never made you feel like that – like you’re on edge – you’ve always just approached it as something natural, like you were meant to be that way. And those times, you never really thought about the contact ending.

But in that moment, it felt like he was slipping away – even though you were not even holding him in the first place.

It was probably why you let out your next words, craning your neck to the side to try and look behind you where you knew Jungkook was at.

“I miss you.”

You barely said it. Felt like just a soft whisper as the words slipped past your lips, but there was a break around its edges – like it was the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever said.

It was.

And you didn’t exactly know why you did it.

Maybe you just wanted him to know. Maybe you just wanted him to understand that… that you were still there. And that you missed him. Every single day. Regardless of what happened.

There was a thick silence that hung in the air after that, and you should’ve taken back your words right after they came out. Embarrassment should’ve clouded you by then. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

That was as honest as you could get.

You didn’t even expect a reply – assuming that maybe Jungkook hadn’t heard it.

But you heard the soft tap of his steps on the floor and felt his overwhelming presence coming near you. And just like that, you knew he was behind you. Close. A hair's breadth away.

Then, you hear him let out a soft sigh, and you could feel his breath brush against your ear as he leaned down. You never realized how much you craved his affection until you felt him slightly nudging his cheek against the crown of your head.

It made you keen. Made you shut your eyes close. Basking in the moment, but you didn’t ignore the pain that it caused.

Because somehow, despite what might seem like a sweet gesture – the whole thing felt like goodbye.

It was so intimate, though, that you almost forgot that you were currently on the 8th floor and he was dropping off on the next.

The elevator dinged like a wake-up call. And when you opened your eyes, Jungkook had already peeled his body away from you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you fought the urge to cry as you saw him walking out.

Before the door closed, he took one look at you. His mouth opened, as if wanting to say something. You waited. But he closed his lips again, not bothering to look back for even one last time before the elevator doors closed in front of your face.

The interaction left a certain melancholy in your heart, and it made you run on auto-pilot when the elevator stopped on your floor.

You never expected for the encounter to happen – but it did, in its own way. And now you have to deal with the consequences of your impulsive actions.

Your mindless walking has led your feet to somewhere a bit secluded. It’s far across the hall, and you recognize it as some old, empty ward. You and your friends have one on the 5th floor but you don’t think you’ve never really been here before and so you weren’t sure.

But you’re desperate to let out a good cry. Maybe not exactly cry – but just be alone for awhile. The hospital and your schedule are busy enough as they are and it’s enough to keep your mind occupied since the morning – but that interaction with Jungkook at the elevator reminded you of the weight that you’ve been carrying lately and you just… want to dissipate a little. Even if it means sacrificing your three-minute lunchtime.

You don’t suspect anything as you twist the doorknob open – surprise to see it’s not locked like you thought it would be.

And the sight leaves your mouth hanging open.

“Oh my god.”

“What the fuck.”

“Shit!” You watch as Doyeon pushes off the man wearing a white lab gown on top of her – a very familiar figure that you can only recognize as none other than the attending surgeon Dr. Kim Namjoon.

A panicked, “I’m sorry!” leaves your mouth before you turn on your heel, ready to fly off the scene when you hear Doyeon’s voice calling you from behind.

“Wait, __!”

You hesitantly look back.

It’s obvious what they were doing before you entered the room. Doyeon’s hair is unusually out of the ponytail she always shows up to work with, and Dr. Kim… Jesus. He’s always been so intimidating to you – with his tall stature and his aura that reeks so much of authority, even though he doesn’t even try, it feels so fucking weird to suddenly see him with his hair all mussed up when it always looks kempt every single time you see him along the hallways of the hospital. Right now, he looks coy, like he’s shrinking himself as he avoids looking at you.

“Dr. __, I am so deeply sorry,” His apology sounds so remorseful that you feel bad for even having to barge in. You can see Dr. Kim fumbling with his coat as he looks at Doyeon like he’s looking for help. Doyeon looks at him, but she just… rolls her eyes.

“Joon, just–” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes close. Seemingly agitated. Or embarrassed. You don’t know why you’re still here. “You should leave now, I’ll talk to __.” Doyeon lets her gaze fall back to you and your eyes widen at the declaration, not really knowing if she was serious or not.

You mean… what are you even going to talk about? Sure! You’re shocked as fuck to see them together in that position but you’re not about to ask her about her sex life!

… Okay. So maybe you are a little bit (only a little) curious about that.

Dr. Kim has always been a mystery to all of you. Taehyung and Jungkook admire him so much, the latter lowkey idolizes him at this point. Nayeon has always spoken highly about him and you’re literally a fan of all his work in his field, especially his books. It doesn’t help that he’s attractive as hell, too, and you all may have gossiped about him at one point in your lives – so sue you for being curious! You’re just human.

“You sure?” Dr. Kim says, barely spoken, but you don’t miss the gentle way he holds Doyeon’s shoulder as he asks that, the way his face contorts into a concerned expression when he looks down at her. One quick interaction and you instantly realize that oh… this is serious.

They’re not just having casual sex in this ward.

This is Doyeon’s boyfriend.

Your bestfriend nods at him and you step aside to give Dr. Kim some space to leave the room, still visibly stunned. You thought he was going to leave when he utters another apology again.

“__, I’m really sorry about this behavior. Doyeon and I—”

Doyeon groans. “Joon, oh my god. It’s fine.”

You watch as Dr. Kim’s (who Doyeon apparently calls “Joon”— what the hell) lips fall into a thin line. “Fine. I’ll go. We’ll talk about this later, alright?”

“I know.”

He gives you both one last glance before the door closes on you.

You swear you tried to look for cameras everywhere – like they do in The Office – to see if the whole thing was a prank. But no. Your life’s unfortunately not a sitcom.

“I told him to lock the door earlier,” Doyeon starts, sounding defeated as she falls back on one of the emergency beds. Sighing, she covers her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

At that, you can’t help but react immediately.

“You’re embarrassed about the fact that you’re fucking an insanely stupid hot, intelligent man?” Your brows knit.

Doyeon looks at you and you both stare at each other. She holds her own, like she usually does, but for the first time ever, she breaks and chuckles. The laughter turns hilarious, and you follow her into the bed.

“God,” she utters. She licks her bottom lip and looks at you shyly. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

“I mean… what did you mean to do instead?”

She hesitates. “I’m not sure.”

You frown. “So, you just… you just weren’t going to tell me? Us?” You didn’t bother to hide the tone of disappointment in your words. Doyeon looks a little ashamed when you verbalized that.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know how,” She says. You knit your brows in confusion. “You know I’ve always been… private about my dating life or whatever. I don’t tell you guys I’m dating until I’m sure the guy and I are official. I… I don’t even date a lot in the first place.”

Well… that was true. You nod at her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Doyeon smiles a little. “How long?”

There’s a pregnant pause before she says, “Uh… since Feb?”

“Jesus.” She winces at your reaction. You stare at her with your jaw slack. “What the fuck, Doyeon? Nine months?”

“Well, technically, eight but—” you look at her dryly and Doyeon gives up on her attempt at being facetious. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just happened.” You raise your brow at her. She sighs. “Okay, so we may have hooked up last year in December. You remember the Christmas party at the Ritz?”

Your mouth just hangs wider, looking at her incredulously. Every drop of information she lets out just grows your surprise bigger, and you have nothing in substance to say except, “You… whore.”

Doyeon laughs so loud you worry it might have been heard from the outside, but you wince at the slap that follows on your shoulder as she giggles nonstop.

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.”

“No– I just– Oh my god, was that the reason why you bailed on our own Christmas party over at Nayeon’s?” She nods at your question with her lips pursed. You scoff, still not believing it but just overall amused in general. “You’re really throwing me a curveball here, babe. Like – I have never ever heard you talking about Dr. Kim except when you said you’d totally fuck him in that one drinking session. And then, you actually fucking did.”

She rolls her eyes, scoffing. “He started asking me out on dates in January and he asked me to be his girlfriend in Feb. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did,” She shrugs, as if she just said that the skies are blue. “I’m pretty good at hiding, huh?”

You don’t hide the way you instantly frown.

“I’m happy for you, Doyeon, I really am. But… did you not feel like you could tell me? Or any of us?”

At least she looks apologetic, nibbling on her bottom lip before she says, “It’s not that, __. I didn’t know how to tell you guys. There’s this – there’s this thing when you date a co-worker, especially in the hospital. He’s an attendant, and he’s about to be chief of surgery next two months, you know that right? And it’s just— I know you will never think it, or the rest of our friends – but I just. I didn’t want anyone to think that I’m… that I’m sleeping my way here, you know? It’s fucking weird. And Ms. Yan from fuckass HR hates me for some reason. I’d be public enemy number one around here, __.”

You wince hearing her explanation. Nodding, you rub her shoulder to offer some kind of comfort, noticing that she’s actually silently fuming just by the mere thought of that. Meaning she must have been thinking about it for quite some time now.

“But you know we’ll never think of it like that, right?” You confirm with her, just to be sure. You love Doyeon – she’s basically your sister at this point – and you don’t ever want her to feel like she can’t trust you.

“Of course. I don’t… I can’t really offer you any explanation other than I got scared and just wasn’t ready. Joon wants to let people know… and I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking about that too nowadays.” She says, and she’s not really looking at you anymore, seemingly deep in thought.

You begin rubbing her back. “It’s fine if you’re not ready yet.”

“Oh, this is getting kind of mushy. I hate it.” Doyeon says dryly. You push her slightly which sends her sideways a bit, earning a laugh from her.

“Joon, huh?” You decide to tease to lighten up the mood. Instead of backing down and getting shy like you expected, Doyeon raises her brow. “Can I be honest with you, though?” You say, fiddling with your fingers. She nods so you tread lightly to your next words. “This will sound crazy, I know, but for the longest time I thought Jungkook was your secret boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” Doyeon says, sharp and almost… disgusted. You don’t expect such a reaction.

“Okay, you don’t need to sound so disgusted. Jungkook’s a good-looking guy and he’s very decent.” You say, sounding weirdly defensive – even to your own ears.

“No– that’s not what I meant—” Doyeon cuts herself off with a laugh. “That’s actually really funny, though.” You look at her curiously. “Somehow, I thought about you thinking that. Especially after that time at the villa when you walked in on us talking by the pool deck.”

“I…” you try to come up with an excuse, something to deny her claim, but nothing comes, and your eyebrows knit in confusion because you actually don’t know yourself why you felt that way back then. You still remember the weird feeling that flared up in your chest upon seeing them in such an intimate position — with Jungkook’s head on Doyeon’s stomach and her caressing his head. Maybe you’re more malicious than you let on, but can she really blame you for thinking there was more to that? Besides, Jungkook’s second closest in the group is probably her. It made sense to assume they were secretly together.

“God, don’t,” Doyeon says incredulously. “Obviously, he’s not my secret boyfriend. I don’t like him and he does not like me, at least not that way. That man only has heart eyes for you and I’m only into Namjoon, thank you very much.”

You wince. “Sorry.”

“But were you really jealous that time, though?” Doyeon asks, intrigued. “I mean, I thought about it. You were acting weird. But I kind of just shrugged it off.”

“I was not jealous, what the hell,” you quickly say. “I was just surprised. And you’re both really close, so I don’t know.”

Doyeon arches her brow. “You’re also both close, so going by that logic, are you two together?” You frown at her. She laughs, knowing she proved her point. “Alright, enough about that. How have you been these days?”

You stare at her before sighing.

“I’ve been wanting to say sorry.”

“Damn straight,” she tells you immediately, like she’s been looking forward to it. “Like, you bitch– I thought you died. Not talking to me or to anybody for a week is crazy.”

“It’s not my proudest moment.”

“Why?”

You subtly inhale a shaky breath. “I… to be honest? I thought you guys were mad at me.”

“What?” You can hear the incredulous tone Doyeon’s taking on. And you slowly realize that you completely just conjured a whole ass narrative in your head the whole time.

“I know. I feel terrible about it. But I just… I couldn’t help but think that I ruined… things.”

“Oh…” Doyeon says, and she cranes her neck down to meet your gaze as you’re tucking your head down slightly. “Why did you think that?”

You open your mouth and close it, trying to find the right words.

“I… know I was completely being ambitious when I said I wanted to bring Mingyu along to the trip – and I realize I shouldn’t have done that. Our relationship was still so fresh, and I was already bringing him along to what was supposed to be our vacation. And the fight happened and the whole thing just went to complete shit. We didn’t even get to spend our five nights there because you guys had to book us a flight immediately and I just… I guess I just feel so bad about it. Had I not invited him… the trip would’ve been way more different. Happier, that I’m sure of.”

“__,” Doyeon calls your name firmly. “That was not any of your fault. Sure, you should’ve consulted with us – because I’m not gonna lie, you threw us in for a surprise when you said that Mingyu was coming, but that fight was not your fault. At all. They physically fought each other on their own accord, even though they knew they were already too grown to be doing that shit. Don’t feel guilty about what those men did.”

You bite your lip. “Still. They— uhm. They apparently fought because of me. It’s stupid.”

“Exactly. But… Mingyu kind of deserved it. Sorry.” Doyeon comments.

You wince. “You know?”

“Jungkook told us about it, yeah.” Doyeon says, as if hesitant to even mention his name in the conversation.

You sigh. You’re not really surprised. “Did he… did he tell you guys… everything?”

“He did.” Doyeon confirms. “It’s not actually new news for us, __.”

You look confuse when you meet her gaze. “How do you mean?”

She presses her lips into a thin line. “He’s in love with you. We’ve known for a while,” You stare at her, mouth agape. Doyeon reluctantly adds, “Since med school.”

“Oh.” You close your eyes for a moment. “Even Nayeon?”

She nods. “Yes.”

You’re silent for a while before you look away. Nodding, you whisper, “I see,” You sigh. “I don’t even… I’m not even surprised about that. Even my mother knows — I mean, Jungkook didn’t tell her of course, but she said she knew he had feelings for me.”

“I think… everybody knows, __.” Your eyes fall to Doyeon. She gives you a gentle smile. “Everybody who sees the way Jungkook looks at you immediately knows right away. He doesn’t have to tell someone he likes you for them to know that. Taehyung and I figured it out ourselves as well. And then Nayeon met you both and she did the same thing. Just had to fish out the confirmation from Jungkook himself.”

“That’s…” you trail off, not really knowing what to say. “I’m really stupid for not noticing all this time, huh?”

“Hmm… maybe. Sort of. But also, not really. I guess it must’ve been just different for you. We’re just bystanders of your interactions — when Jungkook teases you like a fucker it’s easy to assume he’s flirting with you, but it must’ve been annoying as hell for you.”

You chuckle a bit. But it’s with fondness as you agree, “Yeah…”

“He sucks ass at flirting.”

“I agree…” you trail off. “I – well, you probably know, but I told him I don’t believe him,” Doyeon hums, listening in. “I regret saying that. It really hurt him. But… who can blame me, Doyeon? I mean, am I not right for having doubts? Being confused? I mean, okay, yes, I was taken for the first four years we knew each other but I was— I was available two years ago and he didn’t— he didn't do anything. Why didn’t he do anything?” The words are coming off as a rant, you’re fully aware, but you let yourself go, anyway. “He was dating all those women and I just… how am I supposed to believe him when I thought he showed me the opposite?”

“You mean how were you supposed to believe him when he sleeps around?”

You shut your eyes close. “I don’t– I don’t necessarily think he sleeps around, okay? Jungkook’s not a fuckboy or someone who sleeps with anyone with a pulse. He’s too grown for that shit. But I… I just meant, that… he dated a lot all throughout the time we knew each other, so where was I in the equation? You know what I mean?”

Doyeon stares at you for a bit, then she nods, looking ahead. “I know what you mean.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. Then, “Are you worried he’s not sincere about his feelings? Because he dated a lot of people?”

“I-I’m not sure about that.” But maybe, that thought bothers you a bit.

“When was the last time he was with somebody?”

You don’t mean to sound defensive when you retort back with, “I wouldn’t know that. Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook and I do not actually talk about everything, and that includes our sex lives, but I know when he’s… seeing somebody.”

“How?” Doyeon asks, looking at you. She wasn’t trying to trick you into anything, just genuine curiosity written all over her face.

You shy away from her gaze. “Four months ago… Nayeon’s engagement party. He was checking that woman out.”

“Oh… Kwon Jihyo?”

Your brows furrow. “You know her?”

Doyeon nods. “Yeah. Physio class back in freshman year. I talked to her at the party as well,” you grow more confused and Doyeon adds, “Also, she’s gay. Married with two kids.”

“Oh.”

That earns a chuckle from Doyeon. Tapping your arm, she tells you, “You don’t have a gay radar, it’s fine.”

“Oh my god…” you slap a hand on your forehead. “I teased him about sleeping with her after the party…”

You’ve always seen Jungkook as a regular ladies man in your head due to the fact that he gets women, quite very easily. Empirically, Jungkook goes on a lot of dates. But to be completely honest with yourself, you don’t even know the extent of those said dates. Jungkook doesn’t exactly oppose it when you lightheartedly tease him about being a playboy, but you do notice when that puts him off a bit.

Maybe you should’ve pried – maybe he gets put off because it’s simply not true? But you don’t think it’s not not true either, so… do you really think he sleeps around?

“Look,” Doyeon suddenly says which makes you look at her, snapping you out of your own messy thoughts. “I’m not trying to defend him or put in a good word for him or whatever. But I do know that you know him better than I do, so I’m sure you don’t actually think he isn’t sincere about his feelings for you. If you’re worried about his dating history, talk to him about that – but if we’re going by technical definition here, I don’t think Jungkook sleeps around, __. He doesn’t have a new woman switched out for another every seven business days, does he? Or is that a wrong assumption—”

“God, no,” you roll your eyes at her. “And anyway, why are we talking about this? I don’t care who he has sex with. He can do whatever he wants. He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah… but you just said it’s sort of the reason why you’re holding back.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheek because… that is true. You don’t even know why. Because you stand for what you said that he can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s young and he’s objectively attractive and he can have sex whenever he wants…

But somehow, that very thought — of Jungkook being with anybody that way, suddenly made a weird feeling flare up in your chest. You’ve never really paid it mind before, but right now that you now know what you know…

“It just kind of hurts a bit, I guess.” You say, not looking at Doyeon. “I mean, it’s irrational, really. I don’t expect him to be celibate for the eight years he’s claimed to love me, that’s just insane. I’ve also had sex with other people throughout the time and it would be unfair of me to dwell on the fact that he’s been with other people in the past when I also have but… it’s just… you know…” you trail off, and you feel like you’re gonna burst with so much embarrassment from the thoughts running through your head.

“I know… what?” Doyeon says, trying to fill in the gaps.

“I guess I just…” you swallow the lump in your throat. “I guess…. I guess I just expected him to want only me.”

“Oh.” you look at Doyeon. “Oh wow. That’s…”

You huff. “It’s childish, I know. It’s so stupid – I can’t think that. It’s unfair for him.”

Doyeon shakes her head. “No, I mean, I get that. I get that completely,” She scoots closer to you. “You have to know, though, that for the past eight years, Jungkook has tried many times to move on from you.” That words felt like a bucket of cold water. He’s tried…? Doyeon gives you a small smile when she notices the way your face fell. “It was really tough for him when you and Eunwoo got serious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He tried seeing other people, in the hopes that they could make him feel what he does for you. He didn’t do that in vain – like he did it maliciously in hopes that you would get jealous or whatever. He did that – he does that – because he also genuinely wants to be with someone who can reciprocate his feelings. Min Sora was really close… but I don’t really know what happened to that. I’ve assumed since then that he must still probably love you. And he still apparently does, even to this day. I’m not saying all of this in favor of him, okay? But do you not want to give him a chance because of that? He really loves you, __. He admires you a lot. You don’t know how much he’s just in awe of you. He talks about you a lot when you’re not around, and he’d ditch just about anything to get to you with one call. Look… I don’t know what you feel, and at the end of the day, you call the shots. But I think he’s worth it, __. Because I know him as well and everybody knows he’ll treat you right. You just gotta give him the chance.”

You take in Doyeon’s words carefully.

“That’s not really the only thing I’m skeptical about,” you sigh. “Him having slept with other people is not the top of my concern, because we weren’t in any relationship. Again, I couldn’t have expected him to be celibate all this time. What I’m really worried about is the fact that he’s so— he’s so important to me, Doyeon. I’ve known him for eight years and he’s… he’s quite literally the best thing that ever happened to me—” you stop for awhile because you feel your voice breaking, just in time when the sides of your eyes sting with precedent tears. But you can’t cry right now. You’ve done that a lot in the past few days. “And if— and if I do feel the same, and then we do this thing, what if it all goes wrong? I don’t – I can’t really bear the thought of him not present in my life. I have never considered that ever since I’ve known him. I’m so lucky with my friendships but my romantic relationships all suck. They’re shit. And I don’t want to have a shit romantic relationship with Jungkook, because that would mean I’d lose him. And I don’t want to lose him… do you— do you get me, Doyeon? I’m so scared. Because there's this part of me that wholeheartedly believes what he said, but there’s a bigger part of me that’s in denial because I can’t stop thinking about things going wrong.”

“Hey,” Doyeon gently calls, and you don’t realize that you’ve been holding back a sob because the moment she scoots closer, arm circling your back, you bury your face in her chest and let out a quiet cry. She cradles your head, and you close your eyes at that. “What if things don’t go wrong, though? What if it works out?”

You sniffle. “But things always go wrong for me and my boyfriends. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but they just never end well.”

Doyeon lets out a heavy breath. “I completely understand that. Again, you know Jungkook better than I do. Better than anybody I know, really. You would know exactly what he’s capable of – and that includes the possibility of him hurting you, or the lack of it thereof. It’s really your choice, __. Just… just talk to him, okay? He’s been wanting to, but you’re not reaching out and he said he didn’t want to suffocate you or anything like that.”

You quickly perk up at that. “He said that?” Doyeon nods. It makes your shoulders deflate. “But… but we were in the elevator today and he…”

“He what?”

“He… uhm… well I said something stupid,” you wince, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “I said I miss him, but he didn’t – I don’t know. He didn’t say anything,” Nibbling on your bottom lip anxiously, you look at Doyeon reluctantly, gauging her reaction. “I think he actually hates me now.”

Doyeon is quiet for a moment before she speaks. “You just… you really have no clue how much he loves you, huh? You can kill a close relative of his and he’ll make excuses for you, I don’t doubt that even for a second,” She says and for a moment you’re a bit offended because you’re getting kind of tired of people pointing out that Jungkook being into you is obvious like how the grasses are green, but Doyeon shakes her head, face in pure disbelief. And you just know she didn’t mean it that way. She genuinely looks baffled. “You really need to talk, __. This is… it really hurts seeing you both like this."

You tuck your head down. “I’m thinking about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think… I’m going back to our place tonight. But I’m not sure. I’ll probably chicken out last minute.”

Doyeon pats your arm. “Do it, okay? Just be honest with yourself and to him. You both need that.”

You give her a small, weak smile.

You’re pretty much drained the moment you arrive at your place. Sighing heavily, you punch in the passcode and almost feel your knees buckling at the sight of the interior of your apartment.

It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been here, and coupled with the discussion that you had with Doyeon yesterday, everything suddenly feels overstimulating and there’s an urge at the sides of your eyes to cry.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathe in and out as you enter the threshold, noting the fact that nobody is at home. Or Jungkook isn’t present anywhere in the living room. You’re a bit grateful for that if you have to be honest to yourself – after all, the last time that you talked to him did not exactly go as well as you’d like.

He could be in his room, though. That’s what you assume as you go straight over to the kitchen in hopes to heat up the take-out that you bought at the driveway. As you leave your phone on the counter, you notice the to-go container from Chipotle on the same surface, as well as the laptop that is left open beside it.

So Jungkook is home.

The question is, where could he possibly be, leaving out his stuff here in the kitchen? Might be in his bedroom to grab something real quick?

You don’t mean to do the next thing that comes to your mind, but your feet – your stupid feet – track back from the microwave to the island, and your eyes betray you as they go look and read the words on the screen of Jungkook’s macbook.

The tab that shows is an apartment listing website, and besides are more tabs that show some familiar real-estate names you’ve come to on the internet before when you were looking for a place.

It makes you freeze in your spot, eyes glued to the daunting images of the apartment layout that Jungkook must’ve clicked on awhile ago, and you take note that he’s seemingly, specifically, looking for one-apartment bedrooms and studio apartments.

Your mind goes into a sudden haywire at the sight.

What does this mean?

“Oh, hey,”

The embodied voice makes your head snap to its direction, and you see Jungkook standing in front of you in his sweats and shirt – his usual home clothes – with a charger in his hand.

“Jungkook.” You say, or more like, breathe out. Your heart feels like it’s somersaulting for some reason at the sight of him.

But Jungkook looks just as surprised as you.

“I… I didn’t know you’re coming ho– back.” He says, and there’s a twinge in your heart that you ignore when you caught him pointedly avoiding the word home when pertaining to your place. Somehow, that felt intentional.

But you give him a smile. Probably a weak one. Probably doesn’t really look like a smile at all and more like a grimace. If Jungkook notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just goes straight to the direction of the highchairs on the island and plug in his charger for his laptop.

Then, he turns to look at you. “Uh... you just got off from your shift?”

“Yeah. You too?” You say, nibbling your bottom lip with your teeth. A nervous habit.

“Nah, got off a few hours ago.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah.”

You nod your head. You stand there for a while, letting the silence that’s admittedly awkward hang in the air.

It’s weird, really. Jungkook and you usually have a lot to say to each other – but right now, there doesn’t seem to be a single thing you can say to one another.

It breaks your heart that’s the current case.

“Well, uhm. That’s Zillow.” You say, pointing to his laptop. The moment the words left your lips you swear you could have slapped yourself.

How stupid to ask him about it. How incredibly stupid for that thing to be your choice of topic after weeks of no proper communication with him.

Jungkook seems surprised at this, though, turning his head immediately to look at his own laptop. There’s a certain jerk in his movements when he moves his fingers to the trackpad that closes the entire window of the internet and shows his wallpaper instead.

“Oh. Yeah. That was… Zillow.”

Stupid, stupid you makes everything even more awkward when you say, “You’re looking for a place?”

Jungkook stares at you for awhile. There’s a pregnant pause, and then he nods his head. A bit hesitant. But his voice is full when he speaks.

“Yeah.”

So, he’s moving out. That’s what you think as you avoid looking at his face and let your gaze fall back to his laptop.

You give him a small smile.

“Ah. Good luck with the search, then.”

Your heart completely breaks when you say the words.

Suddenly, the words of your supposed confession get stuck and they die in your throat. You let yourself believe that coming home tonight would fix everything; you just had to go inside, talk to Jungkook, tell him you were sorry about what you said – and the rest would just do its thing and you'll be back to okay.

But he's moving out, and every bit of hope in you shuts down.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re just about to turn on your heels to go to your room but then he utters lowly, almost like a whisper.

“It’s not final.”

“Hm?” You hum, not sure if you caught that.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jungkook looks away as he says again, “I mean, I’m just looking. I was gonna talk to you before I finalize my plans.”

“Talk to me? Why?”

“Since we’re on a joint lease and all that.”

“Oh.” You nod to yourself, dumbfounded. It's embarrassing the way you lit up with expectation when he said it wasn't final, for it to completely die anyway when he said that. You feel like you're not wanted. “Yeah. Right.”

“I assume you’re tired from your shift, though, so maybe we can go over it tomorrow? Or any day you like, really.” Jungkook shrugs.

“No, tonight’s fine,” You wave your hand, walking towards his direction and seating yourself on the chair beside him. You try to focus all your attention on the screen in front of you instead of Jungkook’s overwhelming presence. You’ve always thought he was big but tonight, he feels even bigger and you’re intimidated. “Are you writing a notice to the landlord?”

“Yeah – I mean, after we talk about the move, that is.”

“Wow.” You can’t help but let out. “You really thought about all this while I was away?”

You regret the words just as instantly as they leave your mouth.

Looking at Jungkook hesitantly, you watch as his face falls, mouth opening and closing, as if at a loss for words.

You take them back before he says something. “Sorry — I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” Sharp and edgy, clipped and… angry. Sort of accusatory. Like you’re pinning something bad on him.

“It’s fine.” Jungkook says after awhile, returning back his gaze on the laptop.

His withdrawal makes you deflate. He seems so uninterested. Is he done with you? Just like that?

“You know what,” You utter after a pregnant pause, standing up from the chair and getting back on your feet. “I actually have a headache. I think we should go over this tomorrow.”

Jungkook looks confused but he nods, anyway. “I just… stocked up on Advil yesterday. So, if you need it… it’s just in the kit.”

“Sure. Thanks,” You give him a small smile. “I’ll, just go, uh, shower for a bit.” You point to the bathroom across from you.

Before you go, Jungkook calls your name.

“__.”

You turn around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Are you…” He trails off. You wish he’d look at you like he usually does. “Are you back for good?”

You don’t expect that question at all. But you collect yourself on time to respond. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Jungkook’s expression is something unreadable, so you throw him an awkward smile. You’re not sure if he returned it, because everything is becoming too much, and you can’t help but overthink every single thing he does. So, before you can dwell on that, you go straight to the bathroom to do your business.

You shower quickly – you can’t focus when you know that Jungkook is just outside, and he can probably hear the water running. You’ve never really paid thoughts to these stuff except the first few weeks of moving in with him, but right now, there’s a certain awkward tension in the air and it’s slowly suffocating you. You needed to get out of the shower box quick.

And so you did, but you don’t expect the series of knocks on the door, with Jungkook’s voice behind it.

“__?”

“Y-yeah?” You stammer, wrapping your towel around you (that Jungkook thankfully hasn’t thrown out yet) with haste and getting to the door immediately to answer him.

When you open it, Jungkook visibly freezes for a bit. And you realize you’re in nothing but a piece of cotton; bare underneath, droplets of water running through your body from the tips of your uncovered, wet hair.

You consciously tighten the towel around your body, making sure to act unbothered when you say, “What?”

Jungkook seems to snap out of the moment just as you did. When you follow the hand that he lifts, you see your phone in it. Weirdly enough, you had time to notice the way the device fits so small in his hand when you can barely wrap your phone around your fingers yourself.

What the actual fuck are you talking about, you tell yourself at the back of your head. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—

“You left this on the counter. Mingyu’s been calling you.”

It’s like you’ve been suddenly hit by a truck upon hearing the name.

“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that.” You take your phone when he offers it to you. You don’t know why but you avoid Jungkook’s eyes as you step out of the bathroom and press the decline button, causing the ringtone to stop abruptly.

You don’t look back at him as you enter your bedroom, locking the door and throwing your phone on the mattress and going straight to your closet.

Nothing much has changed since the last seven or so days. What would change, anyway? It’s not like Jungkook has some sort of business in here.

When you finished dressing yourself up with your usual pajamas, a worn-out tee and a pair of short shorts, you go over right to your bed, picking up your phone.

The notification bar says that you have six missed calls from Mingyu and two texts. An upgrade from his three to four times in the previous days.

See, it’s not only Jungkook or Doyeon or Nayeon or Taehyung whom you’ve been avoiding. It’s also Mingyu. The last time that you two talked was when you said goodbye to each other when he was catching his flight from the resort. You’ve completely shut everybody out after that thing happened, and again, it’s not your proudest moment. You’re only non-confrontational to a certain degree, but you usually handle your problems like a grown woman.

You just really don’t know how to handle this one.

But Mingyu’s been calling, and you haven’t answered or replied to any of his messages ever since.

It’s just… everytime you think about him… it hurts.

It hurts to think of somebody you’ve given your trust to, only for them to step on it without any remorse. It hurts that you once thought he was going to be the one, only for him to end up as someone you’re starting to… hate. It hurts extremely that just eight days ago, you held this high level of adoration for him, but now you don’t feel anything at all but simmering anger.

Sighing, you click on his message instead of sliding it out, gearing yourself for what you’re about to read.

gyu😽 [10:15pm]: Dinner at my place tonight? gyu😽 [10:32pm]: Can you pick up my calls?

You scrolled through the other ones he sent in the past week, and you find out that they’re simply just a variation of “do you want to have dinner together tonight”, “why aren’t you picking up?” and shockingly… a couple texts of “i miss you”.

You’ve only been bullshitting when you told Jungkook that you had a headache, but right now that excuse might be true because you can feel a tick in your head, a certain bang on the front, and you just want all of this to end.

Letting out a controlled breath, you swallow the lump in your throat as you type a reply. Finally.

You [10:50pm]: Can we talk tomorrow?

To your surprise, Mingyu responds quickly.

gyu😽 [10:51pm]: of course. dinner?

You [10:52pm]: yeah. i get off at around 8 tomorrow.

gyu😽 [10:52pm]: I have some paperworks to attend to but 8 is fine by me. gyu😽 [10:53pm]: Can we go to a restaurant? gyu😽 [10:53pm]: I haven’t cleaned my place so I thought we could go outside

You [10:54pm]: It’s alright. Also, no need to pick me up. I’ll uber.

gyu😽 [10:55pm]: You sure?

You [10:56pm]: Yeah.

gyu😽 [10:56pm]: Alright then.

You don’t get a lot of sleep that night.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. The partners had a meeting over at the firm,” Mingyu says, loosening his tie a little, breathing a bit sharp as he takes the seat across from you.

You nod, giving him a small smile. Taking a sip from your water, you watch as Mingyu fixes his tie again, some sort of attempt to look kempt, like he hasn’t just run here. He was in a rush, and you feel bad that he had to go over here quickly when the partners meeting was probably something important. He could’ve canceled and you wouldn’t have mind.

“So. Hi,” Mingyu greets you as if he’s making up for his rash entrance earlier. He gives you a smile, the one that’s his usual charming smile – you remember fawning over it the first time you met him. “How have you been?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing well.” you answer. In your lap, your fingers fiddle with each other.

You’ve thought about how you are going to go over this, but obviously the scenarios that played in your head yesterday and before you went here were so much more different than now. You weren’t an anxious mess in your imagination.

Mingyu nods. “That’s good to hear. Been doing fine as well.” He says casually.

That makes something flare up in your chest.

Fine? He’s been doing fine?

Before you can say something, a waiter comes up to your table to give you the menu, and that effectively keeps you from saying the words you were probably going to regret as soon as they come out of your mouth.

You both tell your respective orders to the waiter before he walks away, leaving you two nodding and smiling ahead. When he’s gone, you’re left alone with Mingyu again.

You look at him — and his usual suits and tie ensemble would usually make you gush internally about how good he looks, how you can still see the way he’s built under the pristine fabric of his clothes, and how attractive he is the way he carries himself.

“I’m glad you called me tonight, sweetheart.”

And you don’t expect the way the hairs on your body tingle with… ick.

“Sure.” You say, drinking from your glass of water again.

Just get over it, your mind convinces you. But how are you going to approach it?

Moments pass and then suddenly, Mingyu lets out a heavy breath. You peer up at him, raising a brow.

“Alright, I’m not gonna skirt around this anymore, __,” He says, and his eyebrows are knitted in what seems like confusion when he meets your gaze. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me.”

The confrontation somehow eases you even though it shouldn’t.

Licking your bottom lip – an anxious habit that you try hard to forgo – you compose yourself before you say, “I have. Yes, you’re right.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks with genuine curiosity.

Somehow, this bothers you. Does he really not know or he’s just pretending not to know? Whichever it is, it does not really make you feel any better about him. If he’s pretending not to know, then he’s an even bigger asshole than you’re letting him on, but if he does not know, then that’s just even worse. Imagine doing all of those things and not being aware that you did something wrong enough to upset people?

“I have to be completely honest with you, Mingyu. I want to break up.”

The words come out easily as opposed to what you expected.

Somehow, it’s strange, really. You’ve never dumped anybody before. Of course, you don’t count those casual dates you’ve had in the past two years because they were never that serious. But usually, in your long relationships, the other guy does the dumping and never you.

So, right now, as you sit across from Mingyu, finally declaring what you’ve been thinking over the past week, you feel a sense of liberation. A cliché, really. There’s a feeling of discomfort gnawing at some parts of you, but you choose to ignore it, bravely meeting his gaze instead.

“What?”

“I want to break up with you.” You reiterate, this time fuller so he knows your decision is final.

His mouth opens and closes, and there’s a pregnant pause that hangs in the air before he finds his tongue. “But why?”

“Are you serious?” You can’t help but snap. “Do you really not know?”

“No. Fill me in, because I’m confused.” Mingyu doubles down, and it fires you up a little bit.

“Mingyu, Jungkook told me everything,” You say, and you notice the way his expression changes into something more… unreadable the moment you dropped Jungkook’s name. “And I mean everything. What you did with his girlfriend back in college, and what you said about me to goad him into a fight. I mean, what were you thinking, Mingyu? All of that was just… low. Even for you. I can’t believe you’d do any of that.” You catch your breath after you say the words, not realizing how heavy it would feel to let them out. You’ve never been confrontational, would prefer if the other person did all the talking, and to do this right now is taking so much from you.

“He told you everything?” Mingyu asks again. You watch as he relaxes his posture, and you grow confused when his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew he would do that. Come crying to you with his lovesick head. Did he finally grow some to tell you he loves you, then?”

You recoil, not expecting that. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m not anymore.”

Mingyu inhales a sharp breath. “So, you’re choosing him?”

“I—I— what?” you blurt out, surprised at his audacity. “I’m not choosing anybody. And it’s really bold of you to assume that you’re still one of my options after all that.”

Scoffing, Mingyu drinks from his water. He looks at you with a blank stare as he says, “Well, be honest with me now. Do you love him?”

“Do I love him?” You chuckle, not the least bit of humor in it. “You don’t really deserve my honesty, Mingyu. You had all of those four months to be honest with me and you didn’t do shit. Don’t ask me any personal questions and expect me to give you an honest answer. Because I won’t give you any of it.”

“You said a lot of things but I know you love him just as much as he loves you.”

“What are you talking about?”

This time, Mingyu’s tone borders on sharp when he leans down to get to you closer so you can hear him clearly. “You think it was easy for me to be in a relationship with you when all you could talk and think about was Jungkook? Jungkook who was only supposedly your bestfriend?” It’s said with so much wrath that you can’t help but physically recoil at his words. When you don’t say anything, Mingyu continues, “Jungkook told me this movie’s good, Jungkook said their aglio e olio tastes great, Jungkook and I were just talking about this — I could go on how many times you’ve always managed to insert him in anything even when we’re together, but I did not want to be that kind of boyfriend who got jealous over their girl’s friends, and I was that for you – and you think I’m the bad guy here?”

You blink, mouth opening and closing. You fish for some words, something to defend yourself with. Have you really said all that? Did you really do that? Did you really talk about Jungkook enough times that Mingyu took notice of it?

You’ve always thought that your friendship with Jungkook is platonic. You’ve convinced yourself of that and Jungkook seemed to think the same — at least that’s what you thought prior to his confession – and you like to think that your friendship works, even though the majority of people don’t agree that opposite genders can be purely friends.

But… did you think wrong? Did you really just convince yourself it was platonic when all along… it was not?

You don’t exactly recall the moments that you talked about him while you were with Mingyu. It’s hard to when talking about Jungkook just comes like second nature. You don’t count the times you see the grass being green – because they are and will always be green.

And that’s what Jungkook is to you. He’s been such a constant presence in your life that you can’t help but bring him up in any case because… because it just feels right to do so.

Now you think about your relationship with Eunwoo. How he never really liked Jungkook. Did he think the same as Mingyu? Did you also talk about your best friend too much in his presence? Did he count the times you mentioned Jungkook’s name in your conversations? Do you really talk so much about him?

“See?” Mingyu says after a while and it snaps you out of your stupor. “Don’t tell me I’m a liar when you’ve also been lying to me this whole time.”

“How dare you?” You snap at him. You can take him pointing out about the thing with Jungkook, but never this. “I didn’t hide anything from you. I was not the one with the history of cheating with their friend’s girlfriend and I didn’t talk behind your back like you’re merely just a piece of meat.”

Mingyu visibly stills and you bite your lip after saying the words. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Didn’t really mean to say that in the first place. But it’s done and you can’t cry over spilled milk.

Doesn’t negate the fact that you feel like shit, though.

“You think I didn’t regret what I did?” Mingyu says, a little quiet this time. If you weren’t at the quieter part of the restaurant, in a booth where the sound of the classical music and people’s chatters are muffled, you won’t hear him at all. “Jungkook and I were close, __. We really were. And I fucked up and ruined his trust. But you also don’t know how and why that happened. Jiyeon was already cheating on him before she hit on me–”

“Oh, so is that the part where you volunteered to be one of her “victims”, too?” You say sarcastically, cutting him off, incredulous about the fact that he’s really trying to make excuses for himself right now.

“We were fucking drunk– and high, okay? We didn’t know what we were doing.” Mingyu says through his teeth, and it’s the first time you see him lose control. He’s always so kempt and so composed, it’s baffling you’re seeing him in this state.

But you refuse to believe his bullshit.

“You know what, I don't know why you’re saying this to me. You should be saying this to Jungkook and frankly, I simply don’t care. What happened back then is between you – don’t include me into any of your arguments ever again,” You say exasperatedly. “My issue is that – and why I’m breaking up with you in the first place – is that you lied to me, Mingyu. You lied to me about so much. And If I were to go through this relationship with you longer, I don't know what else you’re going to lie to me about, and I don’t want that. Let’s not waste each other’s time and end it right here, right now.”

Mingyu leans back on his seat. “I can’t change your mind even if I apologize to you about that, huh?”

You shake your head.

He nods.

“Alright.”

You look at him again.

Kim Mingyu has sharp features that usually make him look broody from an outsider perspective, but you’ve seen the way he smiles and how gentle he looks when he does. Right now, though, he looks… genuinely sad.

He lied to you, yes, but somehow, there’s still some part of you that wants to know if he felt the least bit genuine about you. That it wasn’t all just a ploy to get to Jungkook.

“Did you really like me? Even for a moment?” You break the silence, voice breaking slightly at the end.

Mingyu looks up at you and you don’t expect the way his lips curl up into a small smile. “Yes, __. I did. I liked you the first time we met and believe it or not, I still have feelings for you right now.”

You look away to avoid his intense gaze.

It’s weird. It’s so weird. Because even though you know in your heart that he’s not and will never be good for you and that he’s not a loss, your heart still aches at the declaration.

“I don’t really know if I believe that.” You say, almost like a whisper.

“I’m sorry, then.” Mingyu says, and it sounds so sincere that you start to feel some sort of stinging in both sides of your eyes.

In what seemed like forever, the waiter arrives with your orders, and you both look up and offer him a hand in placing them on your table, bidding him thanks as he once again walks away.

You and Mingyu both look at your food.

“I think I’m going first. I have a trial tomorrow, so I need to take care of that.” He says suddenly.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you watch as he begins to fix his shirt, ready to stand up.

“Okay.”

“__?” You look up at him when he calls your name. He seems to hesitate for a bit, but he says, “Can you… can you tell Jungkook I’m sorry?”

Staring at his face, you try to look for a hint of sarcasm. Or anything indicative of malice. But all you see is sincerity.

At that, you shake your head. “No.” Mingyu’s face falls. “Talk to him yourself if you really are sorry. I’m not your mailman, Mingyu.”

He sighs. “Alright. I guess you’re right,” And then, “And I’m saying sorry, to you too, you didn’t deserve that. I was angry, and that’s not an excuse. So, I’m sorry. Will you…” he clears his throat. “Will you ever forgive me?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Probably.”

Mingyu gives you a timid smile. “Okay.”

When he takes out his wallet and a black card from there, you instantly stop him from calling over the waiter.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. I’m the one who invited you here.” You say, talking him out of paying.

He shakes his head, insisting, “It’s okay.”

“Seriously, I can handle it.”

Mingyu lets out a chuckle which makes you smile a bit before you scold yourself.

“I know. But can you let me? This is… this is probably the last time we’ll see each other.”

At that, you relax back in your seat, staring at him. He stares right back at you.

With a slow nod, you let him call over the waiter.

He departs with a small goodbye that you return with a timid wave.

When you go home that night, you cried yourself to sleep, thankful that Jungkook hasn’t come home from his shift yet.

Things are… fine.

Unlike your previous break-ups that left you in agony for the following days after it happened, the one with Mingyu did not really leave a huge emotional impact. It makes you wonder if you’ve overestimated your feelings for him… makes you question yourself if you really thought he was the one when things were fine, and you both dated happily.

You don’t bother yourself looking for answers, because the relationship is done and there’s no point in going over the details when it’s you yourself who ended the ties.

While that is not the sole reason of your melancholic feeling these days, it lies on another person; your roommate, Jungkook – your best friend of eight years who’s apparently been in love with you the whole time.

It’s only been a few weeks ever since you talked about him moving out. He said it was about time for him to leave the place – he’s been here longer than you, after all. He wrote and sent the notice to his landlord, and it’s been about two weeks since then, so you assume he’s already got his approval.

While things may look normal and right from an outsider’s perspective… things aren’t exactly the way they were before.

Jungkook and you are close. You share almost everything together. Your friendship has been honed throughout the many years and obstacles you’ve faced together and so it’s only natural for you two to be as close.

But nowadays… you can feel that closeness slipping away. It flares up something inside you; like that feeling of grief when you remember that friend in highschool who you stopped talking to after graduation. You don’t know exactly what the reason is for the abrupt end of communication, but the finish line is there and you’ve both reached it without the other knowing – and you’re left fending for yourselves, looking ahead at your own worlds and letting your lives flow to the stream of the river.

It’s strange, really; how everything feels somewhat normal but also really under that condition.

Jungkook and you would text each other nonstop – he could be in his own room, and he’d still text you about random shit that ends up with him going to your room anyway just to annoy you for a bit before you kick him out and you both go to sleep. He’d ask to borrow something – anything, ask your food preference for the night, and he’d always ask you when your shift ends so you can go together if your schedules align. Meanwhile, you ask him to join you in the living room for spontaneous movie nights, ask him to give you a massage, and you’d both talk about your days, catching up on the hours you weren’t together.

And now there’s none of that.

Now, you both greet each other when the other one gets home almost like a chore. Like how your roommate from college used to welcome you when you arrived at the dorm from classes. When either you or he is in the living room or something, you’d both tell each other that “Dinner’s in the fridge, you can microwave it”, instead of “What do you think we should have for dinner?”. Jungkook asks if you need a ride to the hospital because he knows you don’t have a car anymore, but you refuse because it’s obvious it’s just for formality.

You don’t know if it’s just the overthinker in you, but it feels like Jungkook’s pulling back and he has no intention of making things right – or talk about what happened.

He’s so… he’s so civil.

And you miss him so much it makes you sad.

It makes you confused. Sort of mad. He makes you feel a lot of things – but you hate that you’ve just been compartmentalizing and not doing any processing at all.

You spent the past few weeks pointing out to yourself the differences that your relationship is going through. You spend some nights beating yourself up whether to go barge in his room and confront him with everything – but you do none of that.

Instead, you pretend everything’s okay. At the hospital, you’ve no longer avoided him and said hi which he returns with a smile. Nayeon, Taehyung, and Doyeon, thought at first that everything’s back to normal, but you know they’re slowly realizing that it has not.

Tonight, though, at Nayeon’s reception party after her wedding, you try hard to ignore all those angsts and choose to enjoy yourself instead. It’s Nayeon’s big day. The last thing you wanted to be was a bum.

Everybody is socializing with each other, and since you’ve had your fair share of conversations with other people at this point, you choose to sit out on the dance.

Suddenly, Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl is playing and the majority coos and exclaims in excitement as they hurry to the dancefloor, some taking their partners along with them.

“Look, they’re playing your favorite song.”

Your head snaps to the side in reflex to see who it was, only to see Jungkook. Words get caught in your tongue for a moment, a bit surprised to see him. You mean – sure, he’s been here for a while. It is Nayeon’s wedding, after all, but weirdly enough, you two haven’t shared a conversation yet throughout the day.

Until now, anyway.

Recovering from your initial surprise, you scoot over to the side, giving him space to maybe… sit beside you?

“That’s not my favorite song.” You scoff, sipping on your champagne right after, looking right ahead as you feel Jungkook situating himself on the chair beside you.

“Oh… has it changed now?” Jungkook says, and there’s a lilt of teasing tone to it that you look at him in wonder.

Meeting his gaze, you find he’s just smiling at you. He’s in an off-white tux, a lily pinned on his chest pocket. He’s done his hair in that usual way he cleans up for formal events like this, gelled and parted slightly off center to show off his forehead. It’s slightly longer than you’ve last noticed it looked, and you think he hasn’t been trimming it…

Nonetheless, he looks simply put… dashing.

“I change my favorite song every five to seven business days,” you say coolly. “Anyway, why aren’t you there?” you point to where the flock of people is having a ball to Billy Joel.

Truthfully, you kind of wish you were there as well. You’ve always danced to that song in your room or in the shower.

“I’m right where I want to be,” Jungkook shrugs. “Why aren’t you there?”

You lie, “I’m right where I want to be as well.”

He hums. “You don’t want to show them your moves?”

You look at him in disbelief, gawking at him. “Are you teasing me?”

Jungkook widens his eyes, but you know he knows what you’re talking about, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep from laughing when he says, “No. I just happen to know you’re a great dancer.”

With that, you feel yourself getting carried away by how easily your conversation goes. It makes you think about the old times – where talking to him always made your day because he's funny and he makes you laugh and you make him laugh.

“Fuck off. You know very well I have two left feet.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“Wasn’t the case when you were dancing inside a boiler room during med school at that rave party we went to, but okay.”

You can’t help but laugh louder, and with that, you jab a lighthearted slap to his bicep without thinking too much of it.

“I told you that never happened.”

“Oh…” Jungkook puts down his champagne and cocks his head to the side. “What happened?”

You giggle. Yes, giggle. Like a schoolgirl. And you watch as Jungkook joins in your laughter, taking the glass close to his face to sip from it.

Then: “You wanna dance?” Jungkook suddenly says, but he’s looking at the dancefloor.

“Hm. Dunno. Uptown Girl isn’t exactly rave music.”

That earns you a chuckle from Jungkook. “But it’s fun music, right?”

Soon after, he stands up from his seat. You look at him questioningly, but he mirrors it back with an expectant gaze and a raised brow. Seeing you getting apprehensive, he offers his hand and that’s when you roll your eyes, taking his hand as you pretend to stand up against your will and follow him to the crowd.

You chuckle as Jungkook suddenly sways his hips to the upbeat of the song, moving his arms around playfully. You’d like to think he’s doing that intentionally – to make you laugh? Loosen up? Whatever the idea behind it, it’s effective, because you can’t stop laughing as you watch him.

“Come on, we do this all the time!” Jungkook says over the loud music and people’s candid chattering.

And he’s not wrong because you do have mini parties in the living room of your apartment, pretending like the city before the glass wall across the area is your audience.

But you two are usually drunk during those moments, and right now, with only one glass of champagne, you’re not near being tipsy.

“This is so silly!” You exclaim, but you find yourself matching Jungkook’s spontaneous choreography, and it earns you a laugh from him as well.

“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fi-i-ne,” Jungkook sings along, gesturing to you. You cover your face because you can’t stop laughing at how he looks – how you two must look – but you’re almost sure nobody’s paying attention because everybody is just having fun on their own. He has a good voice, though – even though he’s trying to act goofy with it. Jungkook doesn’t like when people point it out, or more like, gets shy when you bring it up.

Suddenly, he steps closer to you and reaches for your hand. Looking at him with confusion, still with that wide grin on your face, he gives you a playful smile before he guides your arm upwards. You utter a sound of a delighted snort, understanding where he’s getting at. With Jungkook guiding you, you do a mildly successful turn that makes you both laugh because as you were just getting back in your original position, you almost trip. Good thing that Jungkook’s there to catch you by the waist, the contact only lasting for a brief second before he lets go to dance on his own again.

“I wish I was an uptown girl!” You yell over the music.

“You’re kinda an uptown girl if you think about it.” Jungkook responds, nodding his head as if he believes that.

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “No.”

“Yes, you are. You’re sophisticated and elegant.”

“Well, this—” you point between your bodies, “– is not very sophisticated and elegant of me.”

“Touché.” Jungkook laughs.

“But will you be my downtown man?” You say, not really thinking too much about it but then you suddenly realize what you just said and you’re about to add something to it – like putting a disclaimer that it was just a joke.

But then Jungkook leans closer, ducks down to level with your ear. “I can be if you want me to.”

The song ends and you barely had time to process what just happened before the soft piano progression of Carole King’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow begins to play.

You hear the collective “Aww”s from the audience and you watch as everybody suddenly pairs up with someone else. As the first lyric of the song is sung, you can feel the upbeat energy from earlier dropping to a calmer atmosphere. Romantic, you’d say it is.

When you look at Jungkook again, he has a small smile on his face. It’s as gentle as the piano behind the song.

“Can I?” He says.

You nibble on your bottom lip. “You want to?”

Jungkook only nods, still smiling.

“Only if you want to as well.”

You look around again. It’s not hard to spot Taehyung from afar on the dancefloor as well, with a gorgeous Hyerin in his arms. He doesn’t seem to notice you looking, though, but you watch the way he ducks down to whisper something in her ear, prompting a laugh from her.

Putting your gaze back to Jungkook, you blink as you say, “It’s… okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” Jungkook clarifies. You nod your head and he smiles that dashing smile again before he steps closer to you.

Slowly, he puts a hand around your waist. And you know he did it awhile ago, but the contact ended so briefly that you didn’t really have the chance to… somehow… savor it, maybe? But right now, as you fumble with your own hand, deciding whether or not you should put a hand on his waist as well, the proximity makes your breath hitch.

Your heart beats abnormally fast against your ribcage, and usually, it’s not hard to stare Jungkook in the face – but you find it a difficult task to do nowadays.

Jungkook, unsuspecting of your inner dilemma, only seems to notice your confusion with your hand placement, chuckling as he guides your wrist to his shoulder. He raises his other arm with yours and interlocks your fingers with his mid-air.

“There,” Jungkook says once you’re in the right position. “Now we look like professional dancers.”

You wince. “What’s the next step?”

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Jungkook snorts as he begins to move his feet.

You try to match his pace, and that distracts you from the fact that you're so close you can smell his cologne very well.

“Where did you learn this?” You ask instead, quite amazed at how Jungkook is approaching this. It’s not like you’ve never slow danced in your life – but you weren’t kidding when you said you have two left feet.

“Wikihow.”

“Wow.”

“They can be super reliable at times,” Jungkook chuckles as he continues to swing you both gently. “Stop looking down.”

You groan. “Ugh, no. I’m trying very hard not to not step on you.”

“So what if you step on me? Just relax.”

Jutting your bottom lip out, you look up at him. “My heels are Louboutin.”

“Even better.”

“Stop.” You break away from his hold with your other hand to jab at his chest lightly. Jungkook lets out an “Owe!” but you know it didn’t actually hurt when he just grins down at you, placing his hand on your waist instead so now he’s just… simply holding you.

You ignore the weird feeling in your chest at the action, choosing to keep your hand on his chest.

“You wanna know something?” You whisper. Jungkook hums. “I didn’t go to prom in highschool.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook genuinely seems surprised to hear that.

You smile sadly, looking back at the memory bitterly. “Changsub and I were fighting around that time because I saw him at the mall with some girl the previous week. I was so angry that I didn’t care about what I’d be missing out on. My mom tried really hard to get me to attend, but I was very stubborn. Now I still regret not going to prom. My dress was really pretty back then too but I didn't even get to wear it.”

“Damn,” Jungkook utters. “He really was such a dick to you, huh?”

“Yeah. But it was still on me, though… I can’t believe I let a boy make me miss out on prom night.” You pout.

Jungkook’s quiet for a while before he abruptly stops his swaying. You look at him in confusion as he lets go of your waist.

“Well, I don’t have a corsage… but this can maybe do?” He fumbles with his chest first before he takes out the silk lavender handkerchief from his suit’s pocket that matches his tie and the lily on his chest. He looks at you for a while before he takes your wrist in his hand. Your brows knit together as he ties the fabric around your wrist, making sure to finish it up with a ribbon – an attempt at a ribbon, that is.

You chuckle. “What’s this?”

Jungkook grins. “You wanna know something too? I didn’t have a date on prom night – was too scared to ask anybody out. I went home after the first hour. Wasn’t really a fond memory. So, prom night definitely sucked for me… what I’m saying is that, it’s not really all that.”

You duck your head down to laugh, partly to hide the flutter in your heart at his words.

“So, like, is this our – what – our upgraded prom night?”

Jungkook nods proudly. He takes both your hands as you laugh, wrapping them around his neck, taking you by the waist again.

This time, you don’t feel like your breath is being taken away.

You feel… serene. The beating of your heart is back to normal. You realize, there’s a sense of comfort that comes from being close to him like this – talking and laughing like good old times.

You miss him. You miss him so much and you can’t believe you ever considered accepting a life without him in it.

“The dress looks good on you, by the way,” Jungkook comments, and it sounds so sincere that you can’t help but smile. As if that wasn’t enough to melt your heart, he adds, “And you look really beautiful.”

“T-thanks,” you stammer, taken aback at the almost intimate way he looks right into your eyes as he said that. You tighten your hold around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Thank you.”

You both chuckle, though there was nothing really funny said in particular.

Carole King’s gentle voice soothes you as Jungkook takes the lead of the dance. You’re not even doing anything other than just going with the flow, letting him take you wherever. There’s a moment when you were sure you stepped on his shoe, but Jungkook’s quick to dismiss you with a hush and saying it was nothing.

Tonight with words unspoken,

You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken,

When the night meets the morning sun

You scoff as you finally hear the lyrics.

That may have taken a hit on you.

“This is so stupid.” You say.

Jungkook’s quick to react.

“Rude. I’m literally giving you a prom night from scratch.”

You look at him and you feel bad because he genuinely seems offended at your supposedly throw-away comment.

Shaking your head, you tap his chest lightly. “No, no. I mean– the lyrics. The song.”

Jungkook arches a brow. “I have a video of you crying over this song in your car when it came up on your playlist.”

“I didn’t cry over this song.” You roll your eyes.

“Not as much as you did over Silver Springs, anyway.”

“Oh my god, why do you know so much, Jesus,” you hiss, embarrassed at being confronted by your dramatic antics. “I just meant, why are they playing such a sad song at a wedding? Who approved this?”

“Eh,” Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe Nayeon’s a Carole King fan.”

“Is she?” you ask, genuinely curious. If she is, she never told anybody.

“Maybe…?”

You can’t help but laugh because of how the conversation progressed. Jungkook laughs as well, and he takes the jab you send to his chest with a light hand. They’re really hard, you think, and you don’t know what comes over you as you lean your head down and let your body fall towards him, laying your cheek on the lapel of his suit. It’s warm.

You feel Jungkook stilling in his position at your sudden action, but soon enough, he does nothing to pry you off like you feared for a moment he would, tightening his arms around your waist and swinging you both in that kind of laxed way.

Shutting your eyes close, you let the soft melody of the song ease your nerves, basking in Jungkook’s presence and his familiar scent.

You stay like that for a while, and just when the song is coming to an end, you feel Jungkook’s breathe in your ears, his lips almost brushing to the tips of your ears when he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back then, but I really miss you too.”

You drank more champagne than you anticipated and it’s why you wobble your way into the bathroom to do some half-ass retouch. Just as when you were putting away your make-up, Nayeon comes out from one of the cubicles.

“Hey, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” She says with a huge smile, now changed into a much simpler dress, in contrast to her voluminous one earlier.

You mirror her grin, opening your arms wide to engulf her in a hug. “Hi to you too. Congrats again on the wedding. I’m so incredibly happy for you. You and Minhyuk are perfect.”

When Nayeon breaks apart from your hug, she looks at you closely. “I saw you with Jungkook earlier. Lots of people saw you two earlier.”

“What?”

“I mean… slow dancing to Will You Love Me Tomorrow in a weirdly intimate way was kind of insane, if you ask me.”

“Oh, uhm…” you feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you grow embarrassed at the thought of people catching you in that position. You remember after the song ended, you made up some excuse about going to the bathroom to pee and you did – but you pointedly tried to stay out of Jungkook’s sight ever since.

One step forward, three steps back.

“How are you two by the way?”

“We’re fine.” You say, giving her a reassuring smile.

Nayeon stares at you for a moment. Then, she sighs. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, we really are. We’re– we’re talking, right?” You point out.

“But… he’s moving out of your place.”

“Well, he needs a change of scenery. He’s been there for four years so he must be tired living there.”

Nayeon stares at you again and when you look at her face, your heart twinges as you see the disappointment written all over her features.

“I don’t understand you both, really. You have this… this beautiful thing going on and you’re choosing to ignore that? It’s obvious that you feel something for him, __. Just be honest with him and see where it goes. I know you two are pretending that everything’s fine but you’re both hurting each other and you’re acting like it’s nothing – it’s all just unnecessary angst at this point. What are you two doing?” Nayeon asks.

“I…”

“Come on, __. Do you really want to let each other go? Do you really want to drift apart? Because it’s been almost a month of pussyfooting. And I don’t know if you’re just expecting that your luck is not gonna run out, but it is going to. And I know you’re going to regret it.”

You stare at Nayeon while listening to her words. You don’t expect the sharp edges to her voice. You’ve always thought that if someone was going to call you out on your bullshit – it was going to be Doyeon. She’s the bluntest in the group and would not hesitate to tell someone if they’re being a bitch or not – so you don’t expect Nayeon to be like this at all because she’s always been a soft-spoken sweetheart.

It's not like Doyeon hasn’t been harsh, either, though. You had a drink with her and Taehyung a month ago and let’s just say she kind of ranted about you feeling like you’re in a romcom or something.

She shuts her eyes close, and you can just feel her frustration emanating. “I’m sorry – I know I’m being harsh right now. But I just can’t bear seeing you two like this. I just got married today and I feel like I’m learning and realizing so much right now and one of those is that I’m extremely lucky to have found someone I’m so sure of, and while Minhyuk was saying his vows I looked back at my past relationships and just thought that… that I’m so glad I was finally at that point and… and right now I can’t stop thinking about you two,” Nayeon sighs. “You two love each other so much. Everybody can see it. Why are you both running away from each other? What gives?”

You look away.

You both do love each other. They are right.

And while you can’t exactly say if what you feel for Jungkook right now bounds in being in love – there’s quite literally only one thing in the world that you’re certain of, and it’s that he’s the most important person to you – the only one you can think of spending a lifetime with and not get sick of it.

And that was something.

But…

“Because it’s scary.” You say, finally.

“What’s scary?”

You inhale a sharo breath.

“For eight years I’ve always thought that we were only platonic. But somewhere in my head I always thought that he was my soulmate, you know? I thought about us ending up together and I remember liking that thought. But years went by, and nothing ever happened and I swear I was happy with Eunwoo but you know what I’m ashamed of all this time that I never told anybody?” Your vision of Nayeon gets blurry as you begin tearing up. “I think… I have been in denial for so long. I think… I think I secretly looked for a part of Jungkook in Eunwoo and I think Eunwoo knew that. I think everybody who I’ve ever been with knew that except for myself. Because I was in denial. Even right now, I’m still in denial. You don’t know how – you don’t know how strange it is to suddenly wake up and realize that you don’t see your friend as a mere friend anymore. You don’t know how hard it is to overthink things – like what if it doesn’t work out and everything falls apart? Our friendship is so important to me, I hold it in the highest regard, and I don’t want anything to ever go against it. But now I’m doing that myself and I just… I hate it. But I don’t know what to do. Jungkook’s moving out just like it seems like he’s moving on and I’m scared that I’m too late to do anything.”

Your speech leaves Nayeon’s mouth agape, clearly not expecting your outburst. But she recovers quickly. She steps closer in front of you, and in a second, engulfs you in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, making sure to not let your tears fall down her dress. “I think I’ve been keeping that for a long time.”

“It’s okay… I’m glad you said that.”

“Yeah… I think I’m glad too,” you both chuckle.

“__?”

You hum.

“Just talk to Jungkook. If you’re worried about him moving out, he’s not. I can tell you that much.”

You break the hug and look at Nayeon. “Nayeon, he literally has everything packed. I think he’s leaving early in the morning tomorrow.”

Nayeon fixes a strand of stray hairs from your hair framing your face. “Hm. He has?” You nod. “Well, as I said, he’s not leaving. Trust me. But you have to tell him everything that you told me just now. Be honest, __. It feels scary right now but, try to take a leap of faith, okay? This is not some toxic positivity shit or anything like that, but just be honest, alright?”

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you look at her hesitantly. “Are you… are you sure?”

Nayeon nods, and she looks so sure of herself that it may have fired up a little bit of hope in you.

The party is still ongoing, but you decide that it’s time for you to clock out. After you bid your goodbyes to Nayeon and her now husband, to Doyeon and to Taehyung, you head out of the venue to try and book a taxi. You couldn’t find Jungkook earlier at the party, so you decided to send him a text that says you were going home.

“Need a ride?”

The ever-familiar voice expectedly appears to be Jungkook when you look at him.

“Hey,” you greet. “No. I was just about to book an Uber.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow. You think he looks handsome under the moonlight. “We can ride together in my car. I’m going home as well.”

“N-no, no, ‘s really fine,” you wave your hand, emphasizing your point.

Jungkook grows more confused. Then: “Are you drunk?”

You wince, hating that he instantly knows right away.

“Sorta, kinda…”

“And you want to Uber?” You pout. You hear him scoff. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state. Okay, let’s get you to my car.”

“I’m fine, really,” you say but it sounds whiny even to your ears.

“You can be stubborn all you want. But in the passenger’s seat.” Jungkook gives you a sharp stare, but his hold on your wrist is gentle as he guides you to the parking lot.

He wears the seatbelt around your waist and lets you settle on your seat, rounding the car to get behind the wheel right after. You look away. You thought he'd be more... not nice to you since you just left him earlier with a poor excuse.

You feel guilty. So guilty. Jungkook is so... he makes you feel so loved but you're just... so confused. You're so scared it doesn't even make sense.

When he starts the engine, he asks, “Why did you drink so much?”

It's easy to ignore the heavy thoughts in your head when you're half-asleep at this point.

“I dunno. The champagne was so good… I bet it was probably expensive. I can’t have that much free stuff until –” you stop, as if remembering something, sitting upright. “When is Taehyung’s wedding?”

“He doesn’t have a wedding, ba—__. He hasn’t proposed to Hyerin yet.”

You slump in your chair hearing that.

“Why? They’re so perfect together… they should marry…” You say before dropping back down to your seat again. The AC in Jungkook’s car whirrs softly in your ear, and when you look to the side, you find yourself staring at his side profile.

He’s taken off his white coat, now left with a white shirt and his purple tie. He’s pushed the sleeves up to his forearms, showing the veins all over them.

“Jungkook.” you call him.

“What is it?” He says, momentarily looking at you before focusing back on the road.

“Can I…” you look at his hand. You sniff. “Can I hold your hand?”

Well, he does not expect that at all. But he smiles anyway, taking off one hand on the wheel and reaching for your own hand over the center console. You watch the way his huge palm dwarfs your own, and you almost sigh in relief when he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as he rests it over his thigh.

The last thing you hear is Jungkook’s soft chuckle before you completely drift off to sleep.

When you awake, you’re in your room. Seconds after regaining consciousness, you notice the banging in your head – and when you blearily open your eyes, reaching around for your phone, you don’t find it.

Groaning, you stand up from your bed, realizing you’re now in a shirt and some pajamas. But weirdly enough, you seem to still have your bra on.

You peek through the inside of your shirt and alas, the white lace of your bra from last night’s event welcomes you, and when you stretch the waistband of your shorts to check on your panties, you still adorn the pair of white thong, which means only one thing.

You haven’t changed completely out of the garments you’ve worn to Nayeon’s wedding and you wonder how it all happened. When you look to the side, your clutch is placed on the nightstand and so you grab it, relieved to find your phone there.

Shockingly, you read it’s only over 2 am.

With furrowed brows, you go over to the mirror to check your ensemble. Your face isn’t and doesn't feel as heavy with make-up as it was back at the venue, and you’re definitely dressed down now.

You remember passing out in Jungkook’s car after he insisted that you ride with him… and everything had been a blur since then.

Suddenly, an idea goes into your head.

Did Jungkook… change your clothes and remove your make-up? That’s the only plausible thing that you can consider because you honestly don’t remember ever dressing yourself or going to the bathroom to remove your make-up. And if you did change out of the gown, you would've opted out of your underwear as well.

Maybe Jungkook did all that.

And the thought makes you smile. But it drops just as quickly.

You head towards your door and go straight knocking on Jungkook’s bedroom.

You don’t expect him to be awake at this point, but when you hear steps coming your way and the doorknob clicking, you stare at Jungkook wide-eyed when he welcomes you with his presence behind the door.

“Hey,” He greets, predictably surprised to see you. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” your eyes don’t mean to subtly roam his room. Then that’s when you catch it. The bags lying around his bedroom floor and the neatly piled boxes to the side. Your eyebrows meet each other. “You’re packing?”

Jungkook nods. “I’m leaving tomorrow, I told you that, didn’t I?”

“Y-you did, yeah.” You stammer, blinking at him. You suddenly feel like throwing up. “Well, I just came to thank you for…” you trail off, gesturing to your clothes.

Seemingly getting what you mean, Jungkook’s lips curl up into a coy smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I tried to wake you up, but you were complaining about your dress when you were sleeping…”

“Yeah… I’m glad you took it off.” You wince. “That sounds wrong. Anyway, the make-up, too. I have to ask, did I throw up on you?”

Jungkook laughs, incredulous. “No, no, you didn’t. Are you seriously worried about that?”

“I just feel bad.” You give him a tight-lipped smile.

“It’s okay. You should sleep now, it’s late. Do you have a shift tomorrow– or later, actually.”

“Yeah, I do. But it’s the evening shift. So. You?”

“I have the morning until three in the afternoon.”

Nodding, you ask, “Are you leaving at three then? I mean, to your new place?”

“Yeah. Will just pass by here to get some of my stuff.”

You try to look for something on his face. But Jungkook looks casual at best. Now you remember what Nayeon told you. Was she lying when she said you’re going to convince Jungkook not to move out? Because from the looks of it, Jungkook doesn’t seem like anything would budge him from leaving tomorrow. He seems so set on a mission, and you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t break your heart.

You find yourself thinking about the events at the reception party. How he threw you a quick prom, told you you were beautiful… how he said he missed you.

Was that all a lie? Just something he said to avoid some sort of dead air?

Because if he truly misses you, then why would he leave?

You find yourself getting annoyed.

“I’ll be back to my room.” You say to get out of the situation. You notice Jungkook getting taken aback by the change of your tone, even more so when you turn on your heels quickly to take the two strides it takes you to your own bedroom.

In there, you throw yourself on the mattress, the impact affecting you a little bit. You must still be drunk because you feel your vision getting blurry a bit but as you quickly shut and open your eyes, everything goes back to normal.

You sigh.

Well, maybe you’re actually meant to be alone and it’s true that you’re not meant for any romantic relationships. You’ll die alone and you’ll just have to deal with the heartbreaks you went through your whole life.

A stray tear escapes your eye, and you quickly raise the back of your hand to wipe at it. You glare at the wall dividing your and Jungkook’s rooms, finding it annoying that you’re not really mad at him. It’d be so easy if you were mad at him… but you have no reason to.

But why is he so stubborn? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can he just… can it just be him who takes the leap of faith, so you won’t have to? You know that’s unfair, though. It’s juvenile.

In a burst of courage, you take one pillow from your bed and stomp your way out of your bedroom, finding yourself in front of Jungkook’s room again and knocking.

He opens it, rightfully surprised to see you again. “H-hey, __, I thought—”

“Can I sleep here?”

You can see the way his face contorts into confusion. “What?”

“Can I sleep in your room?” You reiterate, but you’re already forcing your way in. You throw your pillow on his own heap of dark ones, frowning when you see the bags on the floor. “Are you just going to pack forever? You’ve been packing since yesterday.”

Your clipped tone throws Jungkook off a little bit, but he doesn’t point that out, though, when he speaks. “No. I’m actually done now.”

“Okay? Well, then, let’s sleep.” You say, staring at him. He looks stoned in his position from the edge of the bed, so utterly confused.

“Are you… still drunk?”

“What? No.”

“O… kay?” Jungkook looks extra cautious when he seats himself on the mattress by your feet. “Are you sure?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. About not being drunk and… sleeping here.”

“Yeah,” you answer, pointing out the obvious. “Why are you acting like we haven’t had sleepovers before? You used to sleep in my room when there was a spider in your closet.”

Jungkook makes a face. “It was a huge spider.”

You roll your eyes, going into a lying position, making sure to leave some space for him on the side. “Jungkook.”

“Okay, I’m going. So demanding.”

He playfully clicks his tongue as he lays on the bed as well, sliding his body across the mattress. He doesn’t expect the way you take his arm to spread it on your side of the bed, and you don’t let him say another word when you lay your head on it, keeping your hands close to your chest as you snuggle beside him.

You could feel there was a moment there that Jungkook stiffened for a bit, but he relaxes just as quickly, feeling him caress your head tentatively as if feeling you out before he goes for it completely.

“This is what you’re gonna be missing out on when you move out.” you mumble.

You’re grateful when he only says: “Hm?”

“Nothing.” You open your eyes and because of the close proximity, your eyes are at the level of the side view of his chest, and you see the way his thin white shirt clings to his body, rising up and down with his breathing. “I saw your keys earlier. I’m glad you like the Claddagh.”

Jungkook laughs. “The Claddagh, huh? I knew you knew what that keychain meant,” You frown when you realize you were supposed to pretend you didn’t know that. Oh, well, he figured you out right away, anyway. “I really like it, by the way. It was very thoughtful,” Jungkook says. You can’t see him in your position, but you just know he has a smile on his face. He sounds like it.

“Thank you. I thought about gifting you a watch… but watches are expensive, so…” You decide to joke, and Jungkook laughs which makes you smile.

“I would choose the Claddagh any day. I just… I really like it. I interpreted it as a deep sense of belonging and shared history, and I’ve known you for eight years, so that seems very fitting. I’m glad you chose to give me that.”

It was also a reminder of your relationship. Your love for each other. The loyalty that lies in its foundation, and how you’ve managed to build that over the years. Jungkook’s ultimately your soulmate – that you’re sure of – even though that’s a bit of a cliche and you don’t exactly believe in it entirely. A bit of a conflict, really, since you’re a hopeless romantic.

But you’ve long known that you and Jungkook are more than just friends. You trust and respect each other beyond words – and it’s more than what you could say about your previous romantic partners. Sure, there was that sense of admiration for one another with your ex-boyfriends, but Jungkook is different. He’s always been different.

You’ve known that all along – but it’s only now that you decided to read between the lines.

And you want to tell him that. So badly. But you choose to let the gentle tips of his fingers lull you to that comfortable annexe of warmth, easing you from overwhelming thoughts.

Has Jungkook always felt like the embodiment of comfort for you? Has he always felt like everything good you can imagine having in your life?

Then, you feel him lean down to the top of your head. “You smell so nice. You aren’t my soulmate after all.”

That makes you violently crane your neck up to look at him. “What?”

“There was this article that Tae sent to me. It was from Cosmo, I think. It says you’re not supposed to be able to smell your soulmate.” He says, looking so serious that you can’t figure if he’s bullshitting you.

You lean on your elbow so you can look down properly at him, saying, “That’s not even plausible. Since when was Cosmo reliable to you? That’s ridiculous. We literally have four hundred different types of olfactory receptors which help us perceive various smells – I mean, unless you’ve damaged them somehow, or there’s a disruption in your signal transduction, or you’re anosmic – which I know you’re not – then I don’t think that’s true.”

Jungkook laughs and you can’t help but frown.

“It made sense, okay? If you ignore the science stuff.”

“You’re a doctor.” You quickly counter.

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, for the record, I believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life, so that’s that.”

“Ugh,” you flop down on the bed again, falling back on Jungkook’s body. He scoots closer to hold you close against him, which you welcome casually. You don’t even know how you got this comfortable, but you’re glad either way. He feels so big and warm. “Are you going to show me that Youtube video of top ten UFO sightings around the world again?”

“You don’t think that Nebraska one looked very real?” Jungkook says with disbelief.

“No,” you turn to Jungkook only to find him already looking at you. “They were college boys, Jungkook. They probably just turned nineteen or something. Have you seen their eyes in the video? It was pixelated as hell, but if I were that high—”

Jungkook suddenly snorts, effectively cutting you off. “Ohh, if you were that high?”

You jab at his chest which only makes him laugh louder.

“I tried my first weed with you.” You pout.

Jungkook catches the stray hair that falls from behind your ear and hides it back there again as he says, “You coughed nonstop and had a sore-throat the next day. You have baby lungs.”

You roll your eyes and go back to lying on his arm. “Whatever. All of that still doesn’t justify that we’re not soulmates.”

“The concept of soulmates doesn’t even have a scientific explanation.” Jungkook chuckles.

“No…? But there's psychological research about it; the attachment theory, look it up.”

“There’s also cognitive dissonance.” Jungkook pitches in.

“That’s so mean!” You gasp, but you know Jungkook’s only teasing when you see that he’s got that huge stupid grin on his face.

He apologizes in between his laughter, squeezing your waist a bit before he says, “Okay, okay. But what if you’re my soulmate, but I’m not yours?”

“That’s not how soulmate-ism works. Isn’t it nice to think that there’s like a system to it? Like if you’re my soulmate, then that would automatically make me your soulmate. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” Your eyebrows knit together as you explain.

“I guess you’re right…” Then you hear him letting out a loud sigh. “For what it's worth, I think I’d be really happy if I was your soulmate.”

You smile against his pec after he says the words.

You like Jeon Jungkook. You like him so much it’s starting to feel unbearable.

There’s silence that hangs in the air for some time before you look up at Jungkook alarmingly. “Kook.” He doesn’t say anything. You lean on your elbow again to peer down at him, only to see that he’s now closed his eyes. “Jungkook.”

Finally, he stirs. But his eyes are still closed. “Hm?”

“Don’t sleep yet.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives your waist a brief squeeze again.

“I’m watching you.”

He chuckles. “What is it?”

“Let’s talk more.”

“How are you still not sleepy?”

“Because…” you drop your head down to his chest this time. “I want to know if you could ever —” you shrug, staring at his ceiling. “—cannibalize someone.”

“I like this. Conversation’s getting raunchy,” You hear him snorting through his breath. “Is this your pillowtalk?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, that’s an interesting question. I have never really thought about that.”

“Really? Never?”

“I’ve never been in any situation where I had to think about that, thank god.”

You laugh together. “Okay, but if you really had to, would you?”

“I don’t know… I’m a huge germaphobe, you know that. But I guess humans inherently have indomitable spirits and that conditions us to do whatever it takes to ensure our survival under extreme conditions. I don’t think I’m beyond that.”

You nod against his chest. Mindlessly, you start tracing random lines over his shirt, and you wait for Jungkook to pry your hand off or say something to stop you or ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really say anything.

“It’s fascinating, right? The way we can just alter our brains and mindsets when we’re put under certain conditions. It’s amazing and weird at the same time how we work psychologically.”

“Exactly.” You feel Jungkook nodding.

“This is– of course this is not an extreme condition where I have to cannibalize someone,” you chuckle, which earns the same thing from Jungkook. You continue, “but you know when you’re experiencing a heartbreak and you think it’s the end of the world but then you wake up one day and suddenly you’re fine?

When Jungkook turns quiet, you know you’ve touched on a subject that feels personal.

You sigh. “I broke up with Mingyu awhile ago.”

“Oh.”

You hum. “Yeah… like a month ago?”

“Ah. I had a hunch.”

“But you didn’t ask,” you smile. “Well, anyway I just want you to know.”

Silence.

Then, “Do you feel… do you feel sad about it?”

“That’s what’s weird,” you say. “Because I don’t necessarily feel sad about the break-up, or the relationship. But it’s more like – the thought of breaking up with somebody again.” You chuckle, but there’s no humor to it. “I feel like you can only take so many break-ups in your life before you completely give up on love, you know? And it’s like… I don’t even get it… I mean, I’m decent, aren’t I? I can hold up a conversation, I make sense, I have a good job, and I don’t look bad – although, maybe that’s what’s wrong all along?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Am I ugly?”

“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you feel him rising from his lying position just as you feel tears slowly streaming down your face.

You scold yourself for it – because what the hell even is this about? Just earlier you were talking about cannibalism and now you’re tearing up. Your emotions are all over the place, and it doesn’t help that Jungkook’s quick to dote on you, guiding your back as you both sit on the bed instead.

You inhale a sharp breath. “Look at me, I’m a mess,” you look at him through blurry eyes, hoping to look apologetic at the very least for barging in his room at fuckass o’clock and disturbing his packing and not noticing that he’s been in love with you for the past eight years. God, you want to say sorry for a lot of things. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not that deep.”

“If it’s bothering you then it’s a big deal. And I’m looking right at you,” Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes. “I’m looking at you and you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the funniest person on Earth I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m so glad I met you.”

“Well… do you still feel that way when I only ever seem to come to you when I wanna vent or cry?” You ask, attempting to joke, but your voice breaks at the end.

It cracks a smile on Jungkook’s face though. “That’s not true at all. You also come to annoy me.”

Your laughter turns into a sob and that’s when Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side, letting your head fall to his bicep and resting his chin on top of yours. It’s a barely-there gesture, but you’re pretty sure you feel him kiss the crown of your head.

“I know… I know we still have a lot to talk about, __. That we’re glossing over the important things. But I want to say sorry. I never said sorry about what happened back at the resort. For Mingyu. For doing what we did. I never said sorry about bombarding you with all those things and for taking so long to talk to you just because I was scared. But right now, I’m saying sorry. I have been completely unfair to you all this time.”

You quickly get out of his hold to look up at him. “No, you—”

“Just…” Jungkook cuts you off. “Just let me, okay? I know you’re gonna say none if it was my fault but you’re right about what you said. You’re right about doubting my feelings for you.”

“Jungkook…”

He nods. “I was in denial for the most part about my feelings for you. Ever since that thing happened with Jiyeon in college, I found it hard to trust somebody again. I slept around in my last year of college because it made me feel good about myself, made me think I was desirable and that someone cheating on me doesn’t mean shit when I had all those women who willingly slept with me. I was like that during my first year in med school, too. Couldn't really get serious with somebody because – because what if they do the same thing again?” Jungkook smiles bitterly. “And then… I met you. It started out as a crush and I was so sure it wasn’t going to be more than that, but then, we were in almost the same classes and we became friends,” Jungkook looks at you fondly and you almost melt in his arms. “And then I found myself liking you, and then I fell hard – really fucking hard,” he chuckles to himself. “It was during spring break of second year when I realized I was fucked and that I was in love with my best friend.”

“S-spring break?” You whisper, not sure what he meant.

“You don’t remember it?” Jungkook asks. He looks over your face and suddenly he’s caressing your cheek with his fingers. He swipes his thumb over it, wiping a stray tear away. He smiles before he says, “I caught the flu that time. I called you, but you were over at your parents. Then the next day I woke up and you were at my place telling me to take care of my health because how can I study medicine when my immune system is shit.”

“Oh, that…” you trail off. Suddenly, the fragments of that time become clear to you. The flu wasn’t that bad, only took him three days to fully recover.

“Yeah. But then that was also the time when you told me Eunwoo asked you to be his girlfriend and that you said yes.”

You inhale a shaky breath.

“I– I tried to forget about my feelings, because I didn’t want to harbor all those feelings for you when you already had a boyfriend. I went to all those dates in the hopes that I could feel something from someone. I tried to date Sora. It was good. It was a good partnership. But then… Eunwoo proposed, and I don’t know – I guess I deluded myself so bad that I have fully moved on from you since then – but then I was faced with the reality that you were going to spend your life with somebody else and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was so bad at handling my emotions. So stupid. Sora broke up with me because she figured I love you.”

You stare at him with your mouth agape. You would've never guessed why they broke up. You always thought they were so perfect for each other…

“And yeah, the break-up with Eunwoo happened and it took you two years to heal. I didn’t want to make a move because I simply didn’t want to be that kind of guy who takes advantage of a woman’s vulnerability after a break-up, you know? And we moved in together two years ago and…” You wait as he trails off. “I guess I just got comfortable with our set-up.”

“How do you mean?”

“It was like, everything I imagined us to be. Living together, sharing everything together. I thought no one could take that away from me, even if I didn’t ask you out. I’m not telling you to believe it, but I wasn’t with a lot of women for the past two years… yeah, sure, I dated them very briefly, but it was out of genuine attempt to find somebody for myself because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing. Being your best friend was and still is more important to me than being your boyfriend. I couldn’t care less how I can have you; I want you in any way – and if that meant being your platonic friend the rest of our time, then I was that. I am that. Even now.”

You can’t find your words. You’ve imagined your talk countless times in your head, but they all fell short to give you a taste of what the real thing would be like.

“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for keeping my feelings for nearly eight years. I’m sorry I kept something important to you about Mingyu. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Just… I apologize. I feel like I broke your trust.”

It’s quiet for a while before you break the silence.

“Jungkook,” You call him. He meets your gaze. It’s soft and it’s sweet and you realize he’s always looked at you like that. How could you have not noticed? “You’re very important to me.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles. A small one that makes him look all boyish. The urge to keep him in your pocket even though he’s much bigger than you becomes huge.

“And I want you in any way, too.” You say, staring intently at him.

You watch as Jungkook stares back at you. There’s an agonizing stretch of seconds when you see his eyes darting down from your eyes to your lips, and you don’t mean to bite the bottom one, suddenly feeling the thick tension rising in the air.

“Can I hug you?” You swallow the lump in your throat.

“I would really love that.”

You don’t know how it happens, but the last thing you see is Jungkook’s wall clock pointing to 3:15 am before you let your eyes rest.

[ READ BELOW ]

this chapter is not over yet! tumblr has a 1k paragraph/block limit in a single post and so i can't put the whole thing in this. please look thru the reblogs to read the last scene of the chapter and the EPILOGUE or click on this [ link ]

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #fic: tlp #awrkive

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im4rmy · 4 months ago

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when he hurts you during sex by accident - OT7 (idol AU)

TW: rough sex, pain, fingering, anal, oral (woman receiving), bruised skin, handcuffs, MDNI

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Mark　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After growing up surrounded by men, he’s still learning how to temper his strength when he’s with you. But when he’s caught up in the pleasure of thrusting into you, chasing his orgasm... he loses that last shred of control he had left. And it’s a little... too much for you. You squeeze his shoulder to get his attention, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

"Mark—wait, slow down, please."

Nothing. But when he slams into you again, making you cry out in pain and scramble to pull away, that finally snaps him out of it.

"What’s wrong?"

"You were hurting me—ugh," you groan, pressing a hand to your lower belly.

Mark’s eyes go wide. "W-What? Oh my God, I’m sorry! Are you okay, baby?"

You take a deep breath, relaxing your legs as the stinging sensation starts to fade. You give him a small smile and scoot closer, but his face and body have completely shut down.

"I’m so sorry... Are you—are you sure you're okay?"

"I’m fine, really. Don’t worry, it’s already over."

Still, Mark can’t stop apologizing—over and over—until you finally sigh and decide to call it a night. He feels so guilty that he doesn't touch you for nearly two weeks.

"It’s just—I’m scared I’ll hurt you again."

"It was just an accident, baby. I trust you."

Let’s just say, sex with him was extra gentle and cautious for the next two months or so.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Renjun　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Renjun is never rough or violent in bed, but he is freaky—there’s no denying that. He loves tying you up (and being tied up, though that’s another story). Tonight, though, he seems a little too lost in the moment to notice that your arched back isn’t from pleasure—it’s from pain. You’re lying on your stomach, hands cuffed behind you, as a moaning Renjun thrusts into you from behind. And when it feels like your back is about to snap in two, you realize it’s time to use your safeword.

"APPLE PIE!"

Renjun freezes instantly, sucking in a deep breath as he reels himself back in. As you relax your back, trying to ease the pain, he carefully pulls out of you.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"No, please—u-uncuff me."

You barely finish the sentence before your wrists are free. You collapse onto the bed with a whimper, face buried in the pillow.

"Talk to me, beautiful. Is it your back?"

You nod against the pillow, feeling his warm hands gently massaging your sore muscles. You breathe deeply a few times, trying to let your body relax, and then roll over onto your back. Meeting his worried gaze, you give him a small smile.

"I’m okay now."

"Are you sure? We can stop—"

"No, no, it’s fine. Really."

You lift yourself up enough to kiss him, and he melts into you, though he’s still cautious. His hesitation doesn’t last long, though—after all, you two communicate a lot, and you have a safeword for a reason. It’s not the first time one of you hasn't been comfortable with something you were trying in bed (and there have been a lot of things). You say the word, the other stops immediately, and you move on—no guilt, no second-guessing, no overthinking. That’s why soon Renjun is moving inside you again, slowly and deeply, kissing you and holding you close. You smile up at him, and just like that, nothing else matters.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jeno　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You love having sex with Jeno. You’re absolutely crazy about it: he’s insanely hot, he knows exactly what he’s doing in bed, and he’s an expert when it comes to using his hands and mouth. He’s not even rough, not really—he’s just so strong that sometimes he doesn’t realize when he’s gripping your hips a little too hard. Honestly, you don’t even notice it in the moment. Let’s be real. But the next morning, you definitely feel it: your skin burns, your hips ache, and when you catch sight of the dark bruises blooming across your body in the mirror… you know Jeno cannot find out. If he sees them, he’ll never touch you again (and you cannot let that happen, for heaven’s sake). Still, when you keep wincing every time you shift your weight, it’s impossible for him not to notice. Ignoring your half-hearted protests, he lifts up your sweatshirt—and immediately spots the damage.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

His voice is sharp, panicked. And when you can’t even meet his eyes, can’t even form words—he realizes the truth.

“Oh my God, baby—I did this? Shit, I'm so sorry—why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?”

“Because you weren’t! I swear, it only started hurting this morning.”

He looks at you with those wide, heartbroken puppy eyes, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Does it hurt a lot?”

You giggle softly, melting into his touch.

“No, it’s okay, really. It’ll go away soon. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Mhm.”

You stay curled up together for a long time. He even skips his gym session with Jaemin, choosing instead to stay in bed doing absolutely nothing but showering you with endless affection. And the next night?

He makes it up to you by eating you out like he’s never done before.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Haechan　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Sex with Haechan is messy, loud, and full of needy, desperate sounds. So it’s understandable that he doesn’t immediately realize when your moans of pleasure shift into moans of pain. He shifts into a wrong angle and thrusts too sharply, and your body stiffens, a strangled sound escaping your throat. But he moves again, making you cry out. Finally, something clicks—he looks at you, sees your pained expression, and his eyes go wide with alarm. He pulls out instantly.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck—ouch.”

You curl your legs up to your chest, taking a few deep breaths to ease the sting.

“Y/N, you’re scaring me. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you assure him, even if you’re still a little breathless.

“Can I take a look?”

His voice is so soft, so gentle, and his warm hand resting on your knee makes you feel safe. You nod, opening your legs for him.

“You’re not bleeding, sweetheart,” he says after checking carefully. “How about I run a hot bath for you? We can cuddle until the water gets cold, and then I’ll give you a full-body massage with my best lotion—and snuggle you to sleep after that.”

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck as he scoops you up and carries you to the bathroom.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to enjoy the massage more than I will?”

“Impossible! I’m using my precious, insanely expensive lotion just for you!”

“And getting the chance to rub it all over my naked body isn’t worth it to you?”

“Oh, baby, it’s worth every damn cent.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jaemin　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Jaemin is a HUGE fan... of anal. You, on the other hand, have to be honest: you don't enjoy it quite as much as he does. But he really loves it, so sometimes you give in, even though you know it’s not going to feel amazing at first. But today, your body just refuses to relax — especially with your naked body pinned against the door, your muscled boyfriend pounding into you from behind, gripping your breasts like his life depends on it. And normally, this would be one of the hottest things you've experienced in a while (not that your sex life is anything close to boring), if only you could manage to relax... even a little.

"Wait, Jaem— please stop," you gasp.

"W-What?" he stammers.

"I-It hurts— please," you plead.

Jaemin immediately pulls back, easing his hold on you. "You okay, baby?"

You collapse back against his strong chest. "I'm sorry, love— I'm sorry, I can't..."

"What’s wrong, princess?"

"It just... hurts. I don’t like it."

He starts stroking your stomach gently, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. "I’m sorry... was I too rough?"

"No, it's just... I can’t relax tonight."

You can literally feel the smirk forming against your skin. "Mmh, my girl needs to relax? Lucky for you, I know just the thing."

Less than thirty seconds later, all your tension is forgotten— replaced by pure bliss as his head disappears between your thighs. A win is a win.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Chenle　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

That would never happen with Chenle. During sex, Chenle is entirely focused on you. There's no way he would get so lost in the moment that he wouldn’t notice if you were uncomfortable. Every move he makes is about your pleasure — so the worst that could happen is him trying something you’re not particularly into.

"Oh, you don’t like that? Noted," he says, adjusting immediately. "But what about this— yeahhh, that’s my good girl. There we go."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jisung　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Jisung isn’t rough or wild in bed — not at all. But he is... big. You're the more experienced one in the relationship, so you’ve turned foreplay into an art form, making it playful and teasing. But the truth is, it’s all part of making sure you’re wet enough to handle him properly (not that you mind — you're a huge fan of foreplay). Tonight, though, Jisung is a little tipsy from the wine you gave him — and he's definitely in the mood to take charge. You’re not complaining: he’s hot as hell and you’re hopelessly in love with this adorably clumsy boy. So when he starts stripping you down with eager hands, kissing and licking at your breasts with reckless abandon... you're in heaven. Until he suddenly pushes between your legs, barely grazing your entrance— and you gasp, eyes flying wide open.

"Wait, Ji— SHIT!"

He tries to thrust inside you, but you’re not nearly wet enough. You yelp, scrambling out from under him, glaring at him with an exasperated look.

"What the hell? You can’t just go like that! Ouch," you hiss, pacing around the room to shake off the burn.

It’s obvious you’re not really mad at him, so you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

"I really... I hurt you?" he asks, wide-eyed.

You look up at him, and your heart just melts: he’s kneeling on the bed, stark naked, cheeks flushed, looking more wrecked than you’ve ever seen him. You sigh and climb back onto the bed, sitting in front of him.

"Baby, you're too big to just... shove it in like that."

"T-Too big?" he echoes.

"Yes, Ji."

"So every time I— does it always hurt?"

"No! No, not at all. Making love to you is my favorite thing in the world. We just have to make sure I’m ready for you, okay?"

Jisung keeps staring at you with those huge, puppy-like eyes. Then his gaze drops— right between your thighs. He wouldn’t dare look at you like that if it weren’t for the alcohol buzzing in his system. Still, he nods seriously.

"Got it. I have to touch you first."

You blink a couple of times, about to answer— but then you feel his fingers moving against your clit, and whatever you were going to say dies on your tongue. There’s a clumsy, inexperienced edge to his touch... but it’s still exactly what you need, your body relaxing under his hands.

"Is it working?" he asks.

You laugh, pulling him into a kiss. "Yeah, my good boy."

(He came right at that moment.)

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

other OT7 chapters:

your contact names in each other's phone

his favourite part of your body

when he hurts you during sex by accident ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you're here!

when he comes back from tour

⇘ nct dream idol AU index ⇙

·˚✎ ﹏im4rmy's masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

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douqhnxtss · 2 months ago

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ THE SINNER'S ANGEL ⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

you were young and gullible, your sister had no choice but to keep you with herself to make sure you were protected. however, she forgot to protect you from the biggest womanizer and her boss, karina— who was determined to make you hers.

✧ mafia/gang!au, reader is minjeong's younger sister, a little age gap (reader is five years younger than karina), karina is 27 ('98 liner) and reader is 22 ('03 liner), medical student!reader, injuries and blood, little fighting, very flirty!jimin, shy & easily flustered!reader, minjeong is SUPER over-protective, jimin falls in love at first sight, jimin is lwk obsessed (in not a good way tbh), petname (angel), fluff, some angst (not too bad fyi), downbad!jimin, lots of angel/sinner talk, opposites attract trope, proofread — gang leader!jimin x soft fem!reader ⋆ wc! 5.41k °° by how the teaser of this fic already has 150+ notes as I was writing this, I think yall will love this!! And I also LIVE for this like I'm a sucker for a good opposites attract trope okay? Idc what u think, I love this, this is one if not my best fic yet, this is also the new longest fic I've written as of now (i cant believe i wrote this much what), likes n reblogs r appreciated very much, ty love yall<33

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

THE AUTUMN LEAVES BLEW ALONG WITH THE WIND. your head turned to the side as you heard the sound of leaves crunching. your legs swung loosely in the air while you watched a black cat walk into view cautiously.

you gasped at the sight, cooing at the cutie to come closer, it cat-walked to you and you immediately scooped it in your arms, dropping her on your lap. it stared up at you, it's head snuggling into your hand that was around it's head with a satisfied purr.

you giggled, finally having found anyone ever since you sat on the front porch of the gigantic mansion that resided in the woods. you'd been waiting for your sister for about an hour now, with zero signs of human life in sight.

you were questioning whether it was actually where your sister lived, in the middle of nowhere, or you were just sitting on the porch of a random haunted house with a cute cat snuggled in your lap.

you heard soft voices coming from further in the woods, am i hallucinating now? you thought, looking as far as you could to see the faces of the voices.

"was it necessary to murder him, jimin?" minjeong rolled her eyes at the ravenette who had her arm around her shoulders. "obviously, he was going to kill you, jeong."

yizhou chuckled, swinging her intertwined hand with aeri's. "girl, your sister is coming, we don't wanna explain to her that your sister got killed because she was busy talking to a cat."

"well, he was adorable, okay?" minjeong retorted and then, the wires in her brain shortcircuited, "wait.. my sister... my sister was coming at four and now it five-fifteen!"

the four halted in their tracks at the revelation and minjeong let out a string of curses, her sister was the most punctual person she knew.

the korean ran her way to their shared mansion, gaze eagerly looking for the shorter kim she loved, to see you kissing her cat. a wide grin pulled up her lips, "y/nie!!" she yelled and your hold on the cat loosened.

you quickly sat the cat down and ran into minjeong's arms. she lifted you up, swirling with you in circles as you both giggled non-stop. "that's enough! put me down, minie!"

she finally put you on the ground and pecked your forehead, "i'm so sorry for making you wait, y/nie. work took longer than expected." she apologized over and over.

"it's okay, in the meantime i got to chat with ninie!" you pulled away from the hug to see three women lined up beside one another.

"hello, i'm kim y/n! i was born 2003, i'm minie's little sister." you bowed and introduced yourself with a smile. "they'll introduce themselves inside the house, now come on in!"

minjeong picked your luggage up as if it weighed nothing to her while you almost passed out getting it all from the road to the porch.

once you were seated in the middle of the couch in the living room with the three teammates of minjeong and herself, they started introducing themselves one by one.

"hello, lil' kim, i'm aeri uchinaga, known as giselle too. welcome to the team!"

"hi sexylicious queen, i'm ning yizhou, many call me ning, some call me a bitch. i'm the youngest out of us and you're younger than me, it's a sign we're going to be besties."

you giggled as yizhou threw a quick wink at you making aeri shove her, "cute and all, but i'm here." you remembered that minjeong did say two of the four were dating each other, you assumed it was them.

then all eyes went to the ravenette sitting beside you with unreal features, almost as if she was a robot. she had an underlying smirk as she spoke, her eyes looking so deep into yours that you were sure she saw through your soul and more.

"hey, i'm yu jimin, i'm often referred to as karina. i promise you'll be taken good care of as long as you're with me." her words were basic reassurances but there was a dark edge to them that you couldn't decipher entirely.

she extended her hand for you to take, which you did with a smile. as you pulled back, her touch lingered, like sparks emitted from the little contact.

that night, it was harder to sleep. you're usually knocked out in five minutes flat, just so tired from studying, you were a medical student after all. but tonight was different, you chalked it up to the unfamiliar environment from your previous home.

on the other hand, jimin was also awake for what felt like all night. she didn't know why, her mind kept drifting to the afternoon earlier.

something about you, she couldn't place her finger on it but she felt drawn to you, she hated that. she swore to herself that she'd never let herself feel anything for anyone, she promised to herself she'd always stick to flings and would never fall for anyone.

she was just overthinking it at this point, she was obviously not going to be anything with her bestfriend's sister, who was five years younger than her, duh.

──────── ✧✦

turning all the lights off, you plopped down on the bed. you took the pillow beside you, hugging it tight. your teeth held your bottom lip captive as you stared at the ceiling, your mind fuzzy from this new and unknown feeling that bloomed in your heart.

you couldn't get the incidents out of your head, they kept replaying over and over. the woman was stuck in your head and you didn't know if it was a good thing or not.

your heart was in shambles, on the brink of popping out of your chest. the room felt suddenly more hot as if the air conditioner wasn't working when it was already on a high setting.

gosh, what am i thinking? you thought. yet you also couldn't get the moments out of your system. she'd practically plagued you, like a deadly virus spreading through your veins.

good thing you like villains.

──── ୨ৎ

it'd been a week since you initially moved in, the premises of the house were now more familiar. you decided to cook breakfast for you all, so the four can have a meal before work and you can past some time.

you knew you should savor the few days of complete stressfree-ness you have, but you'd adjusted to the busy and hectic schedule of uni and life.

you were either too preoccupied in cooking or had hearing problems as you missed to hear jimin's footsteps come up.

she had a scowl on her face as she walked closer, she thought you should stay away from stuff like cooking, thinking you knew as much about it as she knew about medicine.

however, as the milkshake and waffles came into view, her scowl dropped, replaced with a open mouth-full of shock face. "you made that?" she asked incredulously.

"uh, yeah, i did." you nodded, mouthing a good morning and turning away as fast as you could. had you known she was in a sports bra and shorts, covered in sweat indicating she just came from the inbuilt gym, you wouldn't have turned.

she huffed and turned away, leaving you there with crimson red cheeks, eyes wide as saucers, the image flashing in your mind. you knew it was wrong to ogle at someone's body, but her toned abs? they were enough to make any man and woman drool.

you hurriedly wiped your mouth with your shirts sleeve, swiping your tongue over your bottom lip, did i just drool? over my sister's bestfriend? the thoughts raced in your mind,

what just happened?

──── ୨ৎ

you were peacefully in your room, scrolling on instagram, you'd finished all your work and had nothing to do. it was a boring day, you thought and let out a sigh.

you jumped as you heard a crash downstairs, your feet walking on their own, rushing down to see what the commotion was about to see a woman walk in with minjeong's support, yizhou and aeri following suit, both also holding onto eachother as well.

you ran over to them, the woman turning out to be jimin, her clothes stained vermillion, head thrown back, hand clutching her stomach. the girls were barely holding back their tears.

you got the first aid kit they'd kept for dangerous situations like this, you'd just tried removing a bullet wound yesterday at uni, all you had to do was do it again.

expect it's an actual woman, and jimin too at that.

you took a deep sigh, anxiety creeping in you. shaking your head, you knew you needed to let go of the fear, jimin's life was on the line. you helped her lay down and lifted her shirt.

you were astonished with just how much blood there was everywhere. stuffing all your other thoughts away, you focused on the task at hand.

meticulously removing the bullet, you breathed, unknowingly having held your breath throughout the removal. you rummaged through the kit to find anesthesia before you start stitching.

"we don't have anesthesia.. we don't have anesthesia." the silence was too unbearable as thier mouths were open, unsure of what to do. "i— i'll deal-deal with.. with it." jimin's hushed voice broke the silence.

your heart clenched hearing her cough and gasp in pain and to think of how much it was about to hurt as you stitched the wound? it was enough to make you tear up, but you had more important things to do.

"hold me tight, unnie." it was the first time you called her the respected term. she raised her hand and you took it, placing it on your shoulder for her to hold onto.

you balled up your handkerchief, gently hovering it over her mouth, "keep this in your mouth, please." she did as you asked, biting onto the cloth as you began.

each stitch you did, her grip tightened more around your shoulder, grasping it as if her life depended on it. you were sure her grip was ought to leave marks.

the thick air filled with silence and the only noise being you doing your job. "can you lift your hips for me, unnie?" you asked sweetly, your eyes glossed over, you were so going to scream into your pillow tonight.

she did so and you took some gause, wrapping it around her waist as to prevent her other clothes from getting stained and to protect the wound from any bacteria.

"we're done." the room broke out into relieved gasps, yizhou patted your shoulder and aeri tipped her head up, relieved that her boss was going to be okay.

you removed the handkerchief from the korean's mouth, helping her sit up straight. you ran into the kitchen and came out with some water.

you kept the glass at her lips, slowly helping her drink and cool down her nerves. "you should eat food that will increase your blood levels, unnie." you advised, her gentle nod following.

that day, jimin's annoyance wavered, you weren't the little kid she assumed you were, you were a kind soul— an angel.

a certain switch flicked in her brain and she was now very thrilled to live with you, and take care of you too, ofcourse.

your mind was a mess. you were happy she was okay; you weren't happy that you got to practice removing bullets and stitching so soon. most importantly, you didn't know why you were so relieved that she was alright.

yes, she was your sister's bestfriend, you being worried is justified but being so delighted to know that she trusted you, a medical student who'd never performed on a real person before, to save her? it made you question many possibilities.

and why did the term unnie slip off your tongue so easily? it just did, you also don't know why it did, but it did and that was enough to keep you perplexed and unable to sleep at all that night.

──── ୨ৎ

"what do you think you're doing, yu?" minjeong banged open the door, the hinges nearly breaking off. jimin looked up at minjeong with her signature devilish smile, she hummed, "what am i doing?"

minjeong huffed, "you know what you're doing, quit being stupid!" jimin stood up, eye-to-eye with the other, "i'm just working." she said, tilting her head innocently, with a sly smirk on her lips.

aeri and yizhou walked behind, curious as to why the two besties were arguing and it's necessary for the couple to know all the tea. you were back at uni, unaware of the commotion in the mansion.

"look, i don't give a fuck about your dating life, i don't care if you date a woman six or seven years younger than you; but i do care, a lot, when that woman is my little sister."

minjeong was seething at this point and seeing jimin be so relaxed only angered her further. she loved jimin, she was her ride or die, but her sister came first.

jimin sat back down on her chair, her legs crossed over her desk, hand playing with the smooth gold chain adorning her neck. "don't worry, i'll treat her the way she deserves to be treated, the kids her age won't be able to protect her."

"yeah, well, she doesn't need anyone to protect her, i'm enough to keep her safe!" minjeong's dark gaze pierced through the ravenette's soul, searching for any kind of emotion, anything, but it's her luck that jimin is perfect at masking her emotions.

"i disagree. you care for her, but i'll keep her better than anyone can." jimin stood her ground, she wasn't gonna miss an opportunity to secure her soon-to-be angel.

"weren't you all about, i'll never date anyone, i hate relationships, flings for life?" minjeong quoted, gritting her teeth, all she saw was red. her sister mattered most to her, who she was with mattered equally as much and you dating one of the most dangerous women in korea wasn't gonna happen.

"she's different." jimin retorted, her eyes narrowing and fury levels rising each passing second. minjeong is no one to question her choices. she's the owner of her decisions, you'll catch her dead listening to anyone.

"look, i said it, i don't care, i fucking need you to stay away from my sister." minjeong slammed her fist on the table, she'd never gone against jimin up until now, this wasn't something she wanted to do but the korean is not the one for her sister, in her eyes.

"exactly! i don't care either. whatever you say, i'll make her mine. she is my angel, nobody will get to say or think otherwise." her tone was dark, aura ominous like she could kill hundreds if she wanted to.

minjeong raised her brow, "like i'll let you. my y/nie listens to me. she'll do as i say and what i will say and what will happen is she'll stay away from you and you won't have a chance with her. so, for your sake, try to move on before you fall too deep, yu."

minjeong turned on her heel as if she wouldn't, she would make a rash decision that she'll regret later. her head snapped back as she heard jimin chuckle, taking a complete turn to face her again,

"you know me well, kim, i'll give you that. however... you don't know me well enough. my angel will listen to you but she'll be unhappy, constricted by her sister's beliefs of who i am and how i'll take care of her. now, it's your choice of what you want your sister to think. because, at the end of the day, she'll be my girl."

aeri and yizhou had their mouths hung open, they didn't expect the quarrel to escalate to this degree, but seeing the daggers the two korean's threw at eachother, this is gonna last a while.

jimin held the rising smirk on her face, walking past minjeong who scoffed, in your dreams, she muttered. "i'll make my dreams my reality, kim, i promise." jimin chuckled on her way down the stairs.

minjeong brought her hand up to massage her temples, her blood pressure was having a field day, "it'll be okay, min." yinzhou reassured with a smile.

"jimin's serious, i've never seen her so determined. i think you shouldn't worry, it'll be good that she's dating someone you trust, no?" aeri asked, minjeong only sighed before shaking her head and turning away, the couple following behind.

the three trailed downstairs to see jimin open the door with a sweet smile, "welcome back, angel." she stepped aside, letting you walk in. you greeted her with a grin.

jimin's heart melted at the sight, her hand unknowingly coming up to ruffle your hair, making you freeze. "let's have lunch." she said quickly and walked away, leaving you stunned for the umpteenth time since you started living here.

the three watched the interaction, minjeong's blood boiling at the sight, "kim y/n, come here." your head snapped at the voice and your flushed cheeks and pink ears came into your sister's view, angering her further.

you followed minjeong after dropping your phone and bag, the two of you walking into an empty guest room. "y/n, you're my obedient little sister, right?"

you nodded your head, still confused as to why she brought you alone and called you by your name and not your nickname. "then i need you to do one thing and one thing only, okay?"

you nodded again, "stay away from karina, you can do that for me, yeah?" she held your shoulders. you blinked your eyes, perplexed, "why should i stay away from ji unnie?"

she let out the most dramatic scoff she could in her mind, she has a cute nickname for herself too? "don't ask, just do as i say, understood?" you thought for a little while, you didn't like the idea, you had a better relationship after the bullet incident, you two were closer.

"but i like ji unnie." you said, looking up at minjeong with your soft doe-eyes, she shut her eyes for a moment, "y/n." it wasn't anything much, just a plain call of your name yet it spoke volumes.

you looked down, a pout forming on your lips, "oh-okay..." you drew out and your sister broke into the biggest grin, happily dragging you to the dining table.

you went to sit at your usual place, beside jimin on one side and yizhou on the other, opposite to minjeong when she tugged your wrist again, trying to take you to the furthest seat from the other korean.

jimin's smile dropped, her hand grasping out to hold yours, yanking you to the seat beside her, "come on, i won't eat her, min." she giggled, making minjeong huff before going to her seat.

what was happening, did they fight? why should you stay away from jimin?

the questions bubbled in your brain, zoning you out as the food on your plate was left untouched. jimin nudged you, holding a piece of meat near your lips, "why aren't you eating?"

you glanced at your sister, to see her jaw tight as she angrily chewed on her food. jimin caught your attention again by her hand gently flicking your forehead, "eat, angel."

jimin held a victorious smirk as you ate, confusion everywhere you looked. minjeong was sort of amused, you didn't say a word back, you did what jimin asked you to. was she a witch? were you bewitched?

what was happening was you weren't sure how you felt and jimin turned more down bad each day, little by little.

──────── ✧✦

lingering touches, stolen glances, the urge to go against your sister and try to maintain your blossoming relation with jimin. the three were increasing at an exponential rate.

by now, jimin was completely smitten by everything that was you and minjeong didn't know what she should do. this relationship shouldn't exist.

you save lives, she takes them. you're selfless— always ready to help anyone, she's selfish— she won't share or compromise. you're the epitome of pink, bows, clips, makeup, clothes, everything; she's black, smokey eyeshadow, chains, rings.

dare we say... she was a punk, you did ballet. except, she was a sinner, you were an angel.

jimin never failed to break minjeong's set boundary of her staying away from you. lame excuses, coming into your room through the window, taking you out for a walk at around 3a.m.

she wasn't good for you. she made you disobey your sister, you'd done this once before, but this time it felt different. you were constantly drowning in guilt while breaking the rule back then.

though now, with your hand interwined with jimin's swinging loosely as you two walked in a park with nobody in sight— it didn't feel wrong. heck, it felt nice, amazing, perfect even.

"i don't think we should keep meeting up like this, unnie." you stopped, turning your head to the ravenette who held a soft smile. "why, angel? is it because of me?"

she tilted her head, her face illuminated by the moonlight falling on her skin. the words were stuck in your throat, you opened your mouth only to look up at her blankly.

you quickly turned your head down, refusing to lock eyes with her. her giggle filled the cool winter air, her hand cupping your cheek, making you lightly shiver at the cold sensation against your practically burning red face.

she leaned down, pressing her lips on your forehead. you were frozen, eyes wide, mouth parted as she pulled back. jimin's eyes fell on your lips, her tongue instinctively swiping over her own bottom lip.

she wanted to kiss you so badly.

the hand that cupped your cheek dropped down to take your hand as she pulled you to sit on the grass with her. you didn't utter a word, your existence currently jumbled up, unsure of what you're feeling and what's happening and what she's doing to make you like this.

every second with jimin is unreal.

"i'll talk to minjeong tomorrow and then, if she wants you to stay away from me, then so be it." jimin felt shocked by what she said herself. she hadn't ever let someone decide on her matters before.

"what?" you whisper-said, your mind so close to completely malfunctioning. "i know you love minjeong, and i don't want you to pull away from her. as long as you're happy, i'm happy too."

jimin raised your hand, pressing another soft kiss on it. she kept your hands intertwined, she could get used to this. seeing you flustered, your head turned up to look at the stars and moon shining in the pool of darkness around them.

jimin turned to the side to stare at you shamelessly and comfortably. she was starstruck by the way you looked. you were bare-faced, in your pajamas and she couldn't keep her eyes away from you.

the moonlight shone on your skin, bouncing off giving it a soft glow, only making her further believe you were an angel. she wanted to call you her angel, she wished you were her angel.

she didn't know what she'll do if minjeong still disagreed. she looked down at her hand that enveloped yours, she didn't want to lose this. you mattered to her. it wasn't about your beauty or your body, it was about each and every thing that was yours.

she loved you, every part of you. your smile, your eyes, you personality, your laugh, your cooking, your style, you.

when did i fall this hard? she thought. the ravenette, too, turned away and looked at the celestial object you were admiring, the faintest rosy tint visible on her cheeks as she let out a sigh.

──── ୨ৎ

"so, you two have been going behind my back? all this time?" minjeong was in disbelief. jimin had told you she'd deal with your sister but you insisted, which leads you to now, with the three of you in jimin's room.

you looked at all places except at your sister, unable to form a coherent sentence, you'd never spoken against your sister. your silence made her sigh.

"have i ever forbid you from dating anyone? i set just one rule, no? all i wanted was for you to keep distance from her, then why did you not do that, y/n? entertain me with atleast one valid reason as to why out of the eight billion people in this world you chose jimin."

she stared at you expectantly, she knew you weren't gonna answer, she was just disappointed. "don't get mad at her, i always initiated our meet ups." the ravenette said sternly.

"so? what did that fact change? she still willingly chose to go out with you." minjeong was really starting to get on her nerves. "angel, leave the room." jimin looked at you, smiling.

"but—" you tried to reject but she beat you to it, "for me?" you slowly nodded, walking out of the room and walking to yours, tears lined your waterline. all you wanted was to be with jimin, what was so wrong in that?

once minjeong heard your door click, her hand directly came in contact with jimin's nose, landing a heavy blow. jimin was amused, to say the least, her finger wiped a little blood that dripped down from her nose.

if this was what it took for minjeong to calm down and get her anger out, she was okay with it. "c'mon, another hit for me, please." she said in a sing-song voice.

after multiple hits in her stomach, jaw, legs and more, minjeong huffed, sitting down beside jimin, where you sat. "i'm scared, yu." she said looking at her bloodied hands with her brows furrowed.

jimin wasn't good either, a big bruise on her cheek, busted lip and bloodied nose, yet she didn't care. it didn't hurt. "i know, i'm too. it's hard not to think of my parents and how their story went but i promised to myself the day we initially fought that i'd always protect her and never become who my parents were."

"it's very worrying, you're much more older than her. she's naïve and thinks the world is bows and smiles when it's not. with me being who i am, a gang member, it's hard for her to not be surrounded by the darkest things in this world."

jimin let out a dry chuckle, "i get it. i'm not much different, am i? i don't think twice before slicing someone's throat and she thinks a hundred times about what she needs to do before picking up her surgical blade."

minjeong laughed too, a emotionless laugh that held no humor or anything, "it's not been easy to make her be who she is and not let her be taken away from me in any shape of form by our rivals."

she continued, "the reason i wanted you to stay away was you're not only a gang member, you're the leader, the main boss that handles most dark things that happen in all of south korea."

jimin hummed, "i know but.. i tried, trust me i tried to stay away, to maintain distance, but fuck, i — i just couldn't. she made me break my own promise of never falling for anyone. with her, the thought that we could end up like my parents doesn't cross my mind."

"alright, you can be with y/n. but, i swear to god, if i see a—" minjeong couldn't complete her sentence before the ravenette jumped up, happiness etched on her features.

minjeong sighed with a smile, shaking her head, how is she twenty seven when she acts like this? "let me finish, yu." hearing the other call her by her last name, jimin knew the talk wasn't over.

she stood still, waiting for minjeong to talk, "if i see a single scratch on her or a singular tear in her eye because of you, i promise i will make sure you get the worst death possible. i hope you remember that i do most of the torturing."

minjeong held onto the collar of the korean's shirt, "trust me, i will. it hurts more to see her sad than it did when i got shot. and i've said this many times before, but she's my angel. i'll treat her better than anyone else."

with a roll of her eyes and a mock scoff, minjeong let go of jimin's shirt and pulled her in for a hug, jimin giggled, "finally, we're besties again and not enemies!" minjeong hit her on the back, "shut up before i hit you more."

"speaking of, let me get my wounds taken care of by my angel." jimin essentially skipped her way to your room with the most happy grin that the girls have ever seen her in.

"looks like the issues resolved." aeri laughed with yizhou, giving eachother a high-five. "mission jimy/n, accomplished."

you gasped as your eyes fell on jimin who was bloodied and had bruises littered on her arms, legs and face. "what happened?!" you got the first aid kit, pulling jimin to sit down on your bed.

you slowly treated her wounds, wondering why she was so giddy even though she was covered in bruises, "did minie do this?" you asked with gloomy eyes, making a pang resonate in jimin's heart.

"well, we just had a little fight, but she said that you can stay with me now!" jimin exclaimed, her smile widening impossibly more when you lit up. "really?" you asked, tilting your head, staring up at her with soft eyes.

she fell in love all over again.

she nodded, her hand softly ruffling your hair, making you giggle. deciding to be bold, you stood up, her brows furrowed as she waited for you to do something.

you leaned down, gently placing a kiss on her cheek, your own dusted pink and ears red. you stood straight again, biting your lip to see her reaction— she was speechless. heart racing a mile a minute and mind fuzzy from the contact.

"the wounds have been treated." you said before rushing out of your room and jimin was left lovestruck. love wasn't so bad after all.

──────── ✧✦

"now, can you tell me why we're here, ji?" you asked curiously looking around the beautiful cherry blossom garden jimin took you out to see.

she turned around, eyes full of love as you smiled at the pretty scene in front of you, "i brought you here to say what i've been wanting to for a while now."

you looked at her with anticipation, "what is it?" you pondered as she took a deep breath, "i know i'm not the best person in the world, i do bad things; i'm aware that i'm a sinner."

your brows furrowed as she talked, your heart racing, am i dreaming right now? you thought, "you, you're the most kind person i've met, so selfless and always ready to help whenever you can. you're an angel."

"so, y/nie, will you be my angel? will you accept my love? will you be my girlfriend?" you brain went haywire the moment she uttered the words, my angel.

your cheeks were crimson and your eyes were wide, lips parted, rendered unable to get a word out. she smiled, "too flustered to talk, my angel?" she leaned in closer.

you lightly nodded and whispered a yes, so softly that if she'd be even a little bit further away, the sound wouldn't have reached her ears.

she brought her bottom lip between her teeth, "can i kiss you, angel?" you meekly nodded again, you'd never kissed anyone before. to have your first kiss with jimin, surrounded by cherry blossoms, in spring? it was all a dream come true.

your eyes fluttered shut as she closed the gap between you two, connecting her lips with yours. her hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer.

having watched many romance dramas, you'd seen your fair share of kisses, your hands hesitantly went to her neck, her hair curling around your fingers. you did have to stand on your tippy toes, and she did have to lean down a bit— but, the kiss. the kiss was purely magical.

and like that, you became the sinner's angel.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ᯓ✦ 𝓊𝗻𝚒𝘷𝐞𝗋𝓢𝙚 !

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niyafics · 2 months ago

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: •̩̩͙ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 ⋆｡° •̩̩͙ ໋:🦁

chap1 : sweet talk frat!rich!paige bueckers x reader AU

˳ ⋅ ⊹ wc: 5k (*cries*)

˚ ⋅ ⊹ cw: alcohol (barley), swearing, LOWKEY EMO/LONER READER(i love opposites srry), estranged relationship with parents, golden retriever x black cat dynamic, an au things r diff obviously, the frat is made up lolol and not an established relationship either , lotsa building. angst(?), daddy issues(?). only proofread by me lolllll

˳ ⋅ ⊹ abt: after a long night of serving snobs you try to get a drink and a cute, hyper, frat girl home from college bails you out. now she won’t leave you alone.

˚ ⋅ ⊹(a/n): ty if u waited to read this, n srry if it sucks as always lolol. feel free to still use this idea btw!

ANOTHER exhausting night catering to posh assholes, and their colleagues. Some were easier to service. They screwed their face when you walked up, like you’d been interrupting a conversation, before bluntly repeating their orders, barley slow enough for you to hurriedly jot down.

They don’t thank you when you bring the food, they seldom look at you, like eye contact or a smile costs, and leave a fat tip that was probably change in their pocket.

Other times, it’s almost exactly the same. But, in place of the silence that showed they’re ‘better’, men the age of your parents, slipped a disgusting comment about your figure or an aggressively sexual invitation.

This long in the food industry, you were used to it. A forced laugh usually wards them off, and yet, it makes the evening drag. The 10 hours feels like 20. Your social battery is completely fried by the time you make it to your studio. Usually.

Certain nights, the tips stack so good, you have to reward yourself. This night in particular, you made the rest of your rent, and had fifty dollars extra to spend. Why not get a drink? It had been so long since you had alcohol warming your insides and cheeks. Since you had someone decent looking flirt with you face to face.

Your feet are throbbing after your shift, the money in your pocket keeps you motivated to get at least buzzed.

The bar you choose seems new, at least that’s what it’s listed as, nearby your place. Still cheap, but with a pathetic effort at millennial decorating. You wouldn’t see any of the richies you had to deal with at your job here, sucking their teeth at your chipped nail polish and beaten Vans. Throwing your apron in the backseat, you spray perfume to fight the smell of kitchen on you, and shake your hair free of its tie.

A chimes goes off, as you step inside, the place is almost empty. A middle aged couple play pool in a dim corner, and a few other groups or people spread out, leaving plenty room. Outdated music plays that clashes with the theme, so you get a feeling the decoration is just an effort to keep up with the times. You plop down in a stool at the bar with a grunt, sighing in relief, looking at the menu above, even though you were going to order the last drink you remember.

The bartender is a cute ginger, with freckles dotted on her face and down her arms. She glances over a few times with an apologetic smile, while an inebriated old man talks her ear off. You lift your hand to let her know to take her time, fiddling with a jar of toothpicks in front of you.

The bell echos at the front from behind you, and a rush of obnoxious conversation follows.

It was a warm summer night, and the suburban kids of the wealthy were home from school, but they usually drove through, to the overpriced clubs that suited them. You huffed an annoyed breath, taking a glance behind you. Everyone else’s head swiveled with yours. The children of the wound up business men you’d spent hours tolerating.

“This place stinks, like, actually..” One girl whispered. Two guys beside her laugh like hyenas.

“Yeah, good pick, Bueckers..” Another seethed sarcastically in disgust, with a string of chuckles following.

“Not too bad..” A tall blonde with her hair in a neat low bun pushed through and interjected. That must’ve been Bueckers. She turns to the group and gestures towards the pool table the couple had been playing at. You stared her down in her khaki shorts and pressed, short sleeve polo. Her friends dressed in similar preppy fashion. “Pool table’s cool.”

The couple of boys in outfits similar to hers groaned, moving towards it. The older couple was long gone, seemingly taking the group as a cue to leave. You were taking it as the same, still, you lingered. Your fingers dug into the leather of the back of the chair, looking at the lanky, yet toned, woman established as leader. A shorter girl, with brown hair, in an almost blinding white tennis skirt and jacket set, trailed behind, hooking her arm with Bueckers, as they walked over.

You identified her as the one that commented on the smell, she was right, but you still didn’t like her. A feeling bit at you that you pushed off as irritation, swiveling back around with a closed mouth scowl. The fiery haired bartenders’ kind green eyes met you, raising a brow.

“See someone you know?” She asked while drying a shot glass and setting it back on the rack behind the bar.

“No, thank god,” You joked, another whip of air pushing from your lips, relieving tension. “I’ll take a vodka and sprite, please.” She tilts her head knowingly, and begins to concoct it, while you reach into your pocket to pull out a twenty. Her hair whips back around with the drink and you’ve forgotten about the group. As she sets it down, a frown comes on her face at the sight of the bill. You’re raising your brow now.

“I forgot to tell you, card only, sorry…” The bartender bites her lip nervously, pointing to a sign behind her to back her up. Your shoulders slump, already knowing what your bank account looks like. A pang of disappointment stings your chest but you swallow it, and reach for your card anyways. You don’t know why. You already know it’ll decline. The sprite and vodka bubbles infront of you tauntingly.

“Put it on my tab.” A warm voice speaks up, and you feel a figure take the seat beside you, her long legs not fitting under the bar. They bump your thigh ever so slightly, as she swivels in boredom, facing you. Bueckers from earlier had came up to buy the first round. She shoots you a rosy lipped smirk, her blue eyes searching to meet yours for approval. You look down, putting the money back in your pocket instead, not feeding in. Her bottom lip purses out, brows stitching together so slightly, she probably thought you didn’t see it out the corner of your eye.

She slips a luxury brand wallet out her shorts, still looking at you when her slim fingers drag the thick black AmEx card across the granite bar, thick and shiny. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. Bueckers, (Paige Bueckers, as the AmEx said) was trying to show off. Her icy orbs don’t leave you. You sip from the stirring straw as the bartender takes the card away. “Thank you.” You finally say after she leaves.

“No problem, doll face,” Her confident smirk is back as she scans over your work clothes. You’re not insecure, you fear that she’s sizing you up. That she can see the coffee stain at the bottom of your department store t-shirt, and feels oh-so sorry for you. You take a secretly angry sip. “What are you doing here all alone?”

You roll your eyes so hard they might fall out, finally lifting to meet her stare with a reserved expression. It doesn’t deter Paige, it makes her chuckle instead, and for a second you can hear a hint of nervousness.

“Okay, stupid question, sorry..” Her head turns back to the bar with a blush spreading into her round cheeks. For a second, you smile too, feeling something you can’t place, for a stranger making a corny move at you. Probably from the cocktail. You shake your head trying to pull yourself out of it.

“It’s fine, I’m just getting a drink after work..” You answer, although you usually wouldn’t. Something about the way she drank you in, her eyes pleading for approval with her metal rectangle of riches. It wasn’t hungry or cold, it was more like ‘please like me’. You exchange names, even though you already knew hers.

The server is back over, looking at Paige expectantly for her order. She gets a round of beers, turning back to you.

“Well, if you’re not too tired, you should come play me in pool,” Paige plucks up her card, and each Corona set infront of her. Two in each hand, between her fingers, then carefully swiveling around and standing. “I’ll buy you another.” She winks.

You hold her gaze and your breath until she walks away. Tipsy from the sips due to low tolerance, you slump back into the seat.

You had gone back to the pool table, even though her friends made your stomach twist. Their judgmental looks phased into the background as you and Paige played, the 3 watching, talking amongst one another. She had a talent of making it seem like you were alone.

Paige ordered another drink for you as promised, but you both barely drank again after your first, focused on the generic pool table. On the interesting stranger in-front of you.

Paige had politely demonstrated. Guiding your arms with her own, both lurched over the table, her hunched over you. She has to explain something an extra time, when her hips bump into you, and you space out. Once you get the hang of it, you’re ahead by two, determined to get the 8ball first.

Paige threw her head back once she misses a hole again for the same ball. You can’t help but explode in giggles, covering half your face with your palm. Catching you anyway, she grins at you, a twinkle in her eye as she squints.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, gorgeous.”

Her group watches you both banter, the short brunette coiling her face at you in the same way she did when the sticky stench of the bar hit her nose. You shoot an apologetic smile, awkwardly, even though you hadn’t done anything to her.

Paige ends up winning, with your head start, that you start to suspect was on purpose. Halfway expecting her to try to take you home, something heavy sets over you near the end of the night, asking if you wanted to leave with her. She was beautiful, seemed kind, and generous. Why not?

To your disappointment, and mostly curiosity, she gives the back of your hand a firm kiss instead, swapping numbers, wishing you a good night. You find yourselves turning to steal one more glance, walking to your cars, hers sleek and black with an engine the yelled as she veered away with her companions.

It started off with a simple ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’. You had full intentions of brushing her off after the bar. The two of you had shared a moment, that’s all, nothing would come from someone like that and someone like you.

Paige was persistent. She woke up around 2 when you’re enjoying your last hour of freedom before work, with offers to interrupt her precious rest and take you, pick you up, bring you lunch.

“I have to come in early.”

“I have to stay late.”

“I don’t have a lunch.”

You shot her down, only because you knew she wouldn’t be moved. Secretly, you didn’t want her to know where you worked. The mystery, and push of you was better than the reality, you figured. That you were taking an involuntary gap year from your dream school, you were paying out of pocket for. Refusing to take on too much debt, you saved to return. Friends suggested asking your parents, they weren’t offering, so why ask?

Paige was restless to meet again, you could tell from her invitations sprinkled in every conversation, the past few days. Never could you figure she’d show up to your job though.

You’d been thrilled to leave your shift. It wasn’t bad, it was slow, which is somewhat worse. The dark sports car from a few days ago would have been the farthest thing from your mind, if you didn’t see one so similar to it. Parked right next to your old Honda, in the nearly empty lot.

Your steps slowed and you stared, dumbfounded. The windows were tinted an illegal amount. It’s low rumbling is flicked off and exactly who you figure pops out from inside.

“My dad loves this restaurant.” Paige smiles, like you’re casually meeting here. You nod knowingly.

“Why do you know where I work?” A groan escapes you, trying to speak sternly, your small grin betraying you. The blondes smile stays put, tucking a few of loose curls behind her ear. She waits for you to step closer, to the open car door she’s leaning on with her elbows.

“Yeah, well, my friend said he’d seen you, when he was out to eat not too long ago,” She throws a shrug like the next part is the normal thing that anyone does. “You go to work at 3…they close at 11…I just kind of….” As she spoke it out loud, the pink from a few nights ago returned to her face, heavier now.

“That’s super creepy, you know?” You tease her. If she was anyone else. Heat spreads in your cheeks, shifting the weight on your feet, to distract from it. Still, her ego isn’t bruised.

“You don’t think that,” Said with a chuckle, like she knows it for certain. You’re about to shoot a rebuttal about how she’s basically a stalker. She doesn’t stop speaking. “On your next day off. Let me take you out.” Not said in the form of a question.

“Hm…” You hum, putting your finger to your chin. “I am off tomorrow, but I’m sure you knew that too.” Teasing her again.

“Maybe I do.” She throws her shoulder up with a sly expression. You raise a brow at her that she ignores. “We could go play tennis at the club, or I know a few restaurants. Way stricter dress codes than here, though…Do you have tennis skirts? How about heels? You don’t seem like you’d wear either of those. That’s fine, we can go shopping before we go..” Paige is rambling. Your arms slump in disbelief at how fast she’s talking, having a conversation with herself, almost.

“Or even better, we could make a whole day of the shopping. Then we go to dinner. Forget it, let’s just wait and I’ll get us floor seats to th-“

“Okay, wait!” You stop her before she makes up her mind to fly you out of the state. “This is super overwhelming. I will only go on one condition.”

Paige clings to your every word, finally quiet, her face flushed slightly with embarrassment for over talking.

“It has to be something normal. Something even I can afford.” Paige makes a face at you, like what she named off were tame settings for getting to know someone. You rub your tired face, and walk over to your car, the door creaks when you open it.

“Okay, okay!” She rushes over to you, closing it back, “Something normal. I’ll pick you up, and we can do that.” You tilt your head up at her, both of you soaking each other in for a moment.

“Unless, you’re only capable of lovebombing..” You narrow your eyes at her with a smirk. Paige bursts out laughing.

“It’s not lovebombing, if it doesn’t stop, though.” grinning so hard all her teeth are showing, you don’t realize you are too.

“Right.”

You find yourself dreading Paige seeing your unkept apartment building. At around the time she usually is just waking up, she’s parked outside. Paige doesn’t see you walking up, being too busy with texting you she’s outside for the third time in five minutes.

She has no witty line prepared when you slide into the passenger seat, finally not in your work clothes, or makeup hours old. Her mouth is just gaped open like an idiot, she shuts it, when you give her a weird look.

You smelled like a bakery, in shorts and a crop top to accommodate the weather, with no clue where you were going, only that it’s across town, presumably near where she grew up.

“You look really pretty,” the corner of her lip curls up. It feels awkward, you’re still flustered hearing it. Picking at your nails nervously, while your eyes wandered up her to meet her own pair. She was in denim shorts this time, with a plain T-shirt, white and blue Jordan’s. It looked different from how she dressed at the bar with her friends, you felt less underdressed than you thought you would. “Finally get to see you outside of work.” Paige head turns to you every so often, one hand on the wheel, her elbow leaning against the armrest.

“Thank you, you look good too..” You bite your lip, gazing out the window, as she breaks at a red light. Good was just putting it lightly. Two pieces of her hair braided in the front, the rest straightened past her shoulders. Mascara coated her long lashes, and silver jewelry accented her whole body.

It was real silver and diamonds, you guessed, from the way it glimmered against the light. You stare down her arm taking up most of the rest between you. It reaches down, grabbing your hand, locking fingers automatically. Her thumb rubs the back of your palm.

It’s a park that she pulls into the lot of. A ice cream truck is a few spaces down, with families and small children waiting in line. Paige holds her finger up to you, signaling you to wait there. You don’t question it, unbuckling your seatbelt, agreeing to stay put.

You watch her jog up to the back of the line through the rear view, in front of you the vast greenery, sprinkled with jungle gyms, walking trails, and benches. The park near your apartment had grass high up to your knees, this grass looked like it was trimmed daily.

You’re suddenly anxious to get out the car. Paige comes back, this time holding a coned ice cream and some in a Styrofoam cup with a spoon. She opens your door for you, then hands you the cone.

“Thanks.” You lick a side that was melting, and Paige sticks a spoonful in her mouth beaming, with a nod.

Both of you decide to sit down, and enjoy your frozen dairy in silence for a few minutes. Then you smile and speak.

“Not a fan of cones?” You ask her, taking a long lick. She watches your mouth for a second then gently comes back to reality.

“Too messy.” Paige replies, shaking her head like she’s trying to push a thought away.

“Of course, too messy.” A smile is etched into your face the whole time, barley faltering. Paige gets a feeling you’re teasing her.

“Yeah,” She turns towards you, leaning her elbow on the back of the bench. Another scoop is shoved into her mouth before she dramatically adds. “I only get cones when my butler is here to wipe my mouth, duh.” You shove her shoulder gently, both of you erupting into tiny chuckles.

Small talk drives you crazy, but as you do it with Paige, it warms you up. You even find yourself asking questions. She talks about playing basketball as a kid, all the way to high school. Paige mentions how her dad is essentially a business mogul for a marketing company, and expects her to follow suit. She had been doing well so far, amazing grades, joining the same fraternity, like he wanted her to. Omicron Tau Sigma.

Her apprenticeship at the company her father ran with his fraternity brothers started a week ago, and she didn’t seem worried. As she put it, their less than welcoming children that she was forced to acquaint with and host, was work enough. You figured those were the friends at the bar.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re cool, and I have my moments where I’m worse.”

“Oh I’m sure..” You mumble between laps.

“Watch it.”

Before you know it, it’s your turn. You skip out on a lot of details, telling her a bit of your childhood, that you’re taking a gap year, and aren’t close to your parents. You didn’t have a pre planned multimillion dollar future, that didn’t have to be said.

“I don’t get you.” It’s so sudden, you don’t know how to respond., and you were used to being caught off guard.

“What’s there to get?” Paige nods, like she figured something out. You stare blankly until she further explains.

“You hate people. Or maybe you just seem that way. Either way, you’re closed off,” more vanilla into her mouth, as you’re starting to bite into the waffle cone. “You live alone, no mention of friends—“

“You’re very observant.” You nod thoughtfully.

“You’re very impossible.” Paige mumbles, finishing off her cup, and tossing it in the trash beside the seat.

“I just like being alone, what’s so special about it?” You look off at someone playing with their dog. “It’s the safest place to be. Depending on yourself, the only person who is reliable.” You cringe. It sounded edgy, yet, it was the truth, and you learned it the hard way.

Paige gives her full attention. Her hand crosses on-top of yours. For the first time, she looks sad for you.

“Safe doesn’t mean lonely. And all people aren’t the same.” A quick curl of her lip, lifts and falls from her face. You think about giving her a tough time. Shutting her down. Pushing those thoughts away, you quietly think about what she said, instead. She starts to talk again.

“You can, like…come over. Only if you want…. My place is right on the water.” Paige avoids your eyes, bracing your answer, a coolness to her voice that she seemingly flipped at will.

“Perfect place to throw my remains.” You roll your eyes at her, she wraps a arm around you suddenly, pulling you in.

“Good point.” She huffs, sarcastically, with a stupid grin, resting her chin on the top of your head. You jab her playfully.

You knew exactly the neighborhood she was talking about. With all the mini mansions, and huge pillars near the front doors, turned away from a private lakeshore. You passed it a few times. Your heart thumped thinking about being inside one. One where surely someone from her family would be.

Her rounded puppy eyes, and the look of willingness to follow you everywhere, had you agreeing before you truly scaled out the situation.

The driveway is so long you figured it burns gas just to drive up it. Big to match the massive house sitting beside it. Even her house stood out amongst others, there wasn’t anything traditional or welcoming about it. It was modern and cold, like a display home you didn’t want to mess up.

Paige snaps you out of your daze with the opening of your side. She takes your hand and guides you to the solid white doors. There’s a pin-pad above the silver knob that her fingers type so fast, you’re not sure exactly which number she’s pressing.

You’re staring wide eyed all around, anxiety making your heart drum in your ears. She hasn’t noticed the clamminess in your palm yet, thoughts of pulling it away before you faced whoever was inside stormed your mind. Walking in as friends already raises questions, you could only imagine the drilling questions reserved for Paiges’ partners.

Before you can make up your mind, she’s practically dragging you inside. Paige tosses her socks and shoes, you follow after her. The dark wood is warm under your feet. Heated floors. The interior design is just as minimalist as the outside. A few family portraits, and pictures of Paige at all ages, are blown up larger than you thought they could be, nestled on walls.

One wall, of the living room you get pulled through, to get outside, holds shelves of memorabilia. Framed jackets, paddles, shirts, brooches, several pictures of people in the same colors, trophies all consistent with a theme of gold and navy blue. A golden lion, with luscious mane, in the middle of every piece. You want to slow down and look, maybe even ask questions. You decide to ask when the time is right, considering how annoyed she’d been with explaining it earlier on the bench.

The glass slides open with a whoosh of air. Of course the backyard has been tended to, with lush grass, and intricate stone arrangements around the base of trees. Vibrant flowers are planted in rows around the balcony, between two trees, near the wooden stairs leading to the pier, there’s a hammock, chairs sprawled out nearby.

Walking briskly down the steps, Paige clasps your fingers with her own, guiding you down. She sits with a soft exhale making small waves with her feet in the water. You’re still mesmerized at seeing a lake so clear. You’d never leave this pier if you were her, you tell Paige. She responds with a dry, closed mouth laugh.

“You can have it. And everything that comes with it..” She looks down into the water, or her reflection, you can’t tell. Your eyes don’t leave her, when you sit down on the worn wood. Half your foot is in, and it’s warm, so you drop the other. Her thigh is flush with yours.

“Not having fun in the castle, princess?” You kick the water lightly, sucking in the fresh air deeply. She rests her head on your shoulder, suddenly, making you perk.

“Not really.”

A snarky remark is at the tip of your tongue, so you bite it. How could having everything handed to you, make you sulk in private? You thought, looking at a few fish swimming just below your toes.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“No you don’t.” You reply quickly, thinking about something else instead just in case.

“Yeah, I do,” Her head lifts up to look at you. There’s a slight hurt behind it.

“Shut up,” You sigh, gently pulling the weight of her head back onto you. “It must be…hard to keep up with.” That’s the only way you can put it, to try and soothe her.

“No, it’s not,” She admits, the sun beating down on the both of you through the leaves of trees overhead. “It’s not like working 40 hours a week, and still barely making it, I know.” Your arm wraps around her.

“Your dad graduated from my dream school,” It blurts out of you like vomit. It was drumming in your mind when you saw a diploma with the signature seal to it, framed alongside the other accomplishments. The words don’t stop. “I’m struggling because, yes the pay sucks, and because I’m saving to go back.” You’re almost gritting your teeth at the confessions. Paige pulls away and you let her.

“Damn. Dream school?….Really?” A silence sets over, you not replying. Paige gets up, standing beside you, wet feet dragging water next to you. She holds her hand out, you look up at her for a moment, her hair reflecting to look gold and white. You finally take it, her pulling you to your feet, and slowly up the steps this time around.

Once you reach the grassy yard, Paige stops dead in her tracks, like a deer, barley breathing out. Your feet start to dry in the blades of grass, by the time Paige speaks. Well, whispers.

“Shit, they’re here..” She’s mumbles under her breath. You’re about to ask who but the hearty laugh of a group of older men comes from the living room. “I forgot that was tonight..” Paige pulls the both of you to the side of the house, by the drive way, your legs barely keep up without a jog. Her fingers tap the pin to a room that’s used for coats, shoes, bags, all amounting to the cost of a small house. Theres three steps up to a black door that Paige opens so slowly, it looks like it pains her. You squeeze her wrist, stopping her.

“What?” She whispers.

“Who are we running from?” You whisper back.

Paige doesn’t respond, letting you hear the chatter of now voices young and old. Then she raises a brow at you, her only answer, twisting back towards the entrance.

“Because of me?” Your voice cracks as you ask. Paige turns around sharply, taking your face in her hands, brows furrowed in seriousness, foreheads nearly pressed together.

“Never. Because. Of you.” Her hushed, stern, tone makes a feeling you don’t recognize in your stomach, flip the desert inside it. “Okay?” This part is soft, and so is her expression. You nod slowly, as if in a trance, not wanting her mouth to move away from yours.

Having to fight back the urge to clash lips, Paige quietly steers you into the kitchen, the door closing behind you with a click.

Her slim shoulders drop, like you’re finally safe, bare sets of damp feet padding to the refrigerator. It’s roomy, and untouched, with the same dark flooring from the living room, where deep voices still laugh and discuss amongst each other loudly. The marble island sits in the middle, between the stove and fridge. A TV is installed outside of the door she digs two seltzers out of.

She gestures for you to follow her. You’re frozen still. Eyes bulging out your skull, social anxiety causing a tremble through you, at the sight of the small group crowding in. It was the other three, one guy shorter, with a mullet, the other taller, skinner than Paige, and of course, the brunette. An evil smirk stretches across her lip fillers, letting you know nothing good will come from this interaction.

It wasn’t them you’d been worried about though, it was the man towering behind Paige, his arms crossed, features scrunched in a frown, similar to Paige’s own. Mr. Bueckers, it has to be.

The way she jumps, when she swivels away from you, makes you think she’s going to drop the cans, instead, she squeezes them until they dent on the sides.

“So nice of you to join us, Paige. With company too?” He lets out a low, unimpressed, whistle.

🦁chapter 2

#paige bueckers fanfiction #DID I BLOW IT PEOPLE #let me know #cause i’ll quit rn #paige bueckers x reader #wlw fanfic #lesbian fanfic #paige bueckers au #paige x reader #paige bueckers x y/n #spoiled 🦁

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gojosconsort · 1 month ago

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Saw the requests are open and thought I’d drop something just a tad bit self indulgent🙂. Sukuna, in like a school au, 18 year old. Girl is very timid, and the most sensitive motherfucker ever. Very insecure and anxious. Something that doesn’t really match Sukuna’s personality, his words come out harsh or he seems cold most of the time. He is pushy, he is just how you write him, I guess¿?,. He really loves reader tho. He sometimes gets too frustrated by the reader’s reaction to his needs (ikyk), she’s the type to go home and cry because he said something harsh that he seems to find so normal, but he can figure her out, he knows he made her sad, so how will he react? Things like that.. reader also loves him, but he makes it really hard to stay with him, maybe she decides to break up with him? You write him real good, enjoy your writing so much, I tried being specific with the request but to summarise it angst because Sukuna is an ass but just can’t be away from reader:)))

SUKUNA’S FRAGILE GIRL ♡ // HEADCANONS

⁀➷ CONTENT. you’re the shy, anxious girl who somehow caught sukuna’s eye— he’s the school’s untouchable king but he loves you in his own way. problem is, his harshness keeps breaking you.

♡ PAIRING. afab!reader x school-tyrant!sukuna (both legal age)

♡ WARNINGS. mdni. angst, emotional distress, toxic relationship, harsh language, bullying tendencies, possessiveness, implied needs, but nothing graphic, kinda breakup, gaslighting vibes, sukuna being an asshole but soft in his own way

♡ AUTHOR’S NOTE. ohhh not typical what i’d write but i tried and hope u like it! ty for being so specific with the request, that helps A LOT <3

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who’s the guy everyone avoids—built like a tank, tattoos creeping up his neck even in this dumb uniform, and a glare that could kill. you’re the opposite—timid, always fidgeting, voice barely above a whisper. he spots you dropping your books in the hall one day and instead of walking by like everyone else, he picks them up, shoving them at you with a gruff, “watch it, brat.” you mumble a thank you, and he smirks—because something about you sticks in his head.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who doesn’t ask you out—he just decides you’re his girlfriend. corners you after class, leaning against the wall, “you’re with me now, got it? don’t waste my time saying no.” you’re too scared to argue, nodding even though your stomach’s in knots. he’s pushy from the jump—grabs your wrist to drag you to his spot under the bleachers, snaps at you to stop “acting so damn nervous” around him. you love him, though—his rough attention feels like a spotlight, even if it burns.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who doesn’t get why you’re so sensitive—says shit like, “quit looking so pathetic all the time,” when you flinch at his tone, or “what, you gonna cry over that?” when he ditches you to hang with his boys. you do cry, though—lock yourself in your room after school, sobbing into your pillow because his words cut deep, and he doesn’t even seem to care. he’s cold, harsh, like it’s nothing to him, but you can’t stop replaying it, wondering what you did wrong.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who gets frustrated with your hesitance—leans in close one day behind the gym, voice low, “you’re mine, so fuckin’ act like it—stop freezing up.” he wants more—hands on you, lips crashing into yours, rough and demanding—but you’re a jittery mess, too anxious to keep up. he pulls back, pissed, “what’s your problem? i’m not gonna wait forever.” you stammer an apology, but he storms off, leaving you there, heart pounding, tears prickling your eyes.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who knows he fucked up—he sees it in the way you avoid his gaze the next day, how your hands tremble when he’s near. you go home and cry again, harder this time, because you love him but he makes it so damn hard. he texts you late that night, blunt as ever, “you pissed at me or what?” you don’t reply, and it eats at him—he’s not dumb, he can tell you’re hurting, but he’s shit at saying sorry. instead, he shows up at your window, shouting, “open up, dumbass—i’m not leaving.”

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who climbs in when you let him, scowls and sharp edges, but there’s something softer in his eyes. “you’re too fuckin’ fragile, y’know that?” he mutters, sitting on your bed next to you. you snap—voice shaky but firm—“i can’t keep doing this, ‘kuna. you’re mean.” he freezes, jaw tight, then grabs your wrist, not rough this time, just desperate, “you’re not breaking up with me. i’ll figure this shit out before you’re gone.”

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who doesn’t apologize outright—he’s too proud—but he tries in his own way. starts sitting closer in class, not saying much, just watching you like he’s afraid you’ll bolt. when he’s horny and pushy again, he catches himself mid-snap, grumbling, “fuck, fine—tell me if it’s too much, alright?” it’s not perfect—he still calls you “weak” or “brat” when you tear up—but he’s learning, and you see it. you stay, because even when he’s an ass, you can’t shake how much he means to you.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who fucks up big one day—yells at you in front of his friends after you flinch at his grip, “stop being such a damn baby!” you don’t cry there—you just turn and walk away, done. that night, you text him, “i can’t anymore. we’re over.” he reads it, doesn’t reply, but an hour later he’s at your door, banging loud enough to wake your parents, “open the fuckin’ door—i’m not losing you over this shit.” you let him in, tears streaming, and he’s pissed but wrecked too, “you’re mine, okay? i’ll fix it—just don’t go.”

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who doesn’t let you leave—not really. he’s still harsh, still sukuna, but he holds you tight that night, muttering into your hair, “i’m an asshole, yeah, i get it—just don’t fuckin’ run.” you’re a mess, sobbing into his chest, but you don’t push him away because you love him too, even if it’s a jagged kind of love. he kisses you rough, needy, and it’s not soft or sweet, but it’s his way of saying he’s not letting go.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who wakes up the next morning after your breakdown next to you in your bed and stays there, staring at the ceiling, muttering to himself, “fuck, i’m such a dick.” when you stir, he’s awkward as hell, brushing your hair back with a clumsy hand, “you good, brat? no more crying, alright?” it’s not poetry, but it’s him and you decide to stay once more, caught between his cruelty and his care, and he’s too hooked to ever walk away.

————— ୨୧ —————

⁀➷ masterlist

#—amy writes : ryomen sukuna ★#ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #divider by cafekitsune

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yutarot · 3 months ago

Text

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago.

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation.

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.”

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

“thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out.

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces.

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home.

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush.

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice.

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask.

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you.

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation.

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet.

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face.

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you.

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you.

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him.

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.”

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon.

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble.

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun.

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up.

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply.

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question.

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little.

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it.

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts.

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand.

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it.

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words.

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself.

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark.

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.”

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response.

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.”

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall.

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning.

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth.

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre.

but you weren't going to say no.

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up.

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that.

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face.

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun.

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed.

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in.

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament.

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry.

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room.

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself.

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do.

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper.

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do.

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you.

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there.

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night.

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process.

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue.

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright.

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say.

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says.

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain.

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest.

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagine how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say.

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer.

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity.

your love.

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater.

it’s love.

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness.

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home.

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire vacation (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret.

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time.

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest.

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.”

you turn to him in offence.

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness.

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time.

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one.

not even close.

#nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #jaemin nct #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin #jaemin

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baekhyunsbestie · 6 months ago

Text

── ❝ truth be told ❞ 🐰ྀི ̟!!

⟢ a pediatrician!baekhyun au req'd by this lovely anonie <3 :') ty baby!

sum: you and baekhyun were college sweethearts, bound by shared dreams of a future together. but when he was accepted to a medical residency program across the country, you kept a secret—you're pregnant. fearing that your news would derail his dream of becoming a doctor, you chose to disappear, raising your daughter alone. three years later, in a new city, you bring your little girl in for a routine check-up, only to discover her pediatrician is none other than baekhyun, her father.

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 24.2k+ words. omg Hahaha 🫣. baekhyun x f!reader. chanyeol x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. lovers to strangers to co-parents to lovers again. angst, slow burn, fluffy, then we get reaaaallll smutty ⟡ pet names, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, p in v, bulge kink, creampie, slight breeding kink (y'all should know me by now 🤟🏼😣) ⟡ ALSO! i made a playlist for you guys to vibe out to while you read cus i love u <3 :') its linked in the title!!!

you and baekhyun had once been the epitome of college sweethearts—late-night study sessions that bled into spontaneous adventures, laughter, and whispered dreams of a future together. you were inseparable, his drive to become a doctor and your quiet dream of building a life with him making everything feel so perfect. you could picture it all—the home, the life, the love, knowing you’d be together forever.

during those years, you moved in together. things got serious quickly. talks of marriage, kids, and a future you’d both start building when the time was right were always at the forefront. but as much as you both wanted to dive in right away, you both agreed that you’d wait until baekhyun had at least finished his schooling and residency. it made perfect sense—his dream of becoming a doctor came first, and you were happy to support him, knowing you’d have a lifetime to make it all happen.

you’d completed undergrad together, then post-grad, and now, with your master’s behind you, baekhyun was finishing med school and applying to residency programs. everything seemed to be unfolding just as it should.

but life, as it tends to do, shifted unexpectedly.

when baekhyun’s acceptance letter arrived—the one from his dream residency program across the country—your world tilted, skewed into something unrecognizable. this was his number one pick, the culmination of years of sacrifice and determination. you should’ve been ecstatic, screaming with joy for him, for his future. but instead, a foreign weight settled low in your stomach, twisting into something unnameable.

you’d only just found out, barely two days ago. pregnant. the word clung to you like a vice, heavy and suffocating. you hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even considered it a possibility. and yet, here it was—undeniable. that stupid test, its second line blaring back at you like a neon sign, mocking the life you thought you had under control.

you stared at it, willing the line to fade, to disappear, to become a cruel trick of your imagination. but it didn’t. and the next test didn’t either. nor the one after. five little sticks, five blaring truths. undeniable. inescapable.

you didn’t want to hold him back. not when his dreams were so close. not when the future he had worked so hard for was finally within his grasp.

so you made a decision. you couldn’t tell him. you couldn’t bear to see the guilt and the pain in his eyes as he would undoubtedly sacrifice his dreams for you and the baby. you thought it was the right thing to do, that you were doing him a favor by disappearing, by cutting off all contact.

you had moved to a new city—far from the places where memories of baekhyun lingered, far from the shadow of the life you’d carefully unraveled. it wasn’t easy; untangling yourself from him had felt like pulling threads from a tapestry until it barely resembled what it once was. but over time, you found a rhythm. a life where thoughts of him became a quiet hum rather than a deafening roar, where the love that had once consumed you slipped quietly into the recesses of your heart.

and now, three years later, you stand here as someone completely transformed: a mother.

raising your daughter alone had its challenges, sure, but you couldn’t deny the sense of purpose it gave you. you were made for this. or maybe it was her—the tiny miracle who had made it all feel so natural. from the moment she came into the world, she was an angel, a light so radiant it softened even the hardest days.

sure, she had her moments. she was a toddler, after all, still learning how to navigate big feelings in a little body. but her resilience—the way she could fall apart one minute and bounce back the next—made everything easier. she was your shadow, your little mimic, always wanting to copy everything you did.

the love she gave you was pure and boundless, something you hadn’t realized could exist until she was in your arms. it was a love that filled the spaces in you that you didn’t even know were empty, a love that made the sacrifices and sleepless nights worth it.

you often found yourself wondering if she was a gift straight from the universe, a little piece of heaven sent just for you. every smile she gave, every tight hug, every soft ‘i love you, mommy’ felt like proof that you were the luckiest soul alive.

and as you watched her now, her tiny fingers curled around her favorite stuffed bunny, a swell of overwhelming gratitude washed over you. life had twisted and turned in ways you never could’ve anticipated, but somehow, in her, it had gifted you everything you’d ever need.

maybe it was the depth of love she gave, the way she radiated warmth and light, that made the thought of telling baekhyun even more terrifying. she was everything—the way her laughter could turn any bad day around, the way her eyes sparkled with innocence and curiosity. a fragile little soul, so beautiful it almost hurt. and you knew, deep down, that baekhyun would’ve adored her. loved her more than words could describe.

the thought of it—of him finding out, of him knowing you’d kept her from him, hidden this piece of him, this precious life from him—it twisted something deep inside you. it made your chest tighten, your thoughts spiral. the guilt, the shame—it felt like a constant ache, one that only grew the more you thought about it.

you and baekhyun talked about it, after all—the future you both dreamed of. lazy nights tangled together under blankets, whispering about what life would look like years down the road. marriage, a house filled with warmth and laughter, children.

he wanted a family with you. he was so sure of it, so sure of you. he used to say that he couldn’t imagine anyone else being the mother of his kids. the way he looked at you when he said it—it was as if his soul had reached out, seen yours, and said, there she is, the one we’ve been waiting for.

he was a dreamer. he’d mapped it all out in his head—two girls, two boys. his perfect little quartet. the oldest, a girl, to set the tone, to be the leader of the pack. then a boy to balance things out, another boy to roughhouse and make the middle feel less lonely, and finally, the baby of the family, a girl to soften the edges of the chaos. he laughed at the improbability of it all, at how life doesn’t work like that, but he loved dreaming about it anyway.

you still remembered the way his face lit up when you’d asked him, teasing, what he’d name his first daughter.

he didn’t even hesitate. he looked up at you, that smile you used to know better than your own, and said, minji.

your little girl, minji, was the brightest star in your universe, her laughter a melody that softened every hard edge of your world. her smile—warm and golden—was like sunlight spilling into the corners of your heart, chasing away the shadows that lingered from the life you left behind. she was growing so fast, each day a reminder of how fleeting these moments were, and how much you wanted to hold onto them.

sometimes, though, when the house was quiet and the weight of the past crept in, you allowed yourself to think about baekhyun. it was never for long—just a passing thought, a wondering what if. you didn’t dare to linger, didn’t dare to stir up the bittersweet ache of old feelings and lingering regrets. he had his life now, and you had yours.

but still, he had been the love of your life, and that kind of love doesn’t just disappear. curiosity tugged at you from time to time. late at night, when minji was fast asleep, you’d catch yourself wondering what he was doing, where he was, if he ever thought about you, too.

yet no matter how strong the urge, you never gave in. you wouldn’t let yourself open his socials, wouldn’t let yourself peer into the window of the life he was living without you. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to know—it was that you couldn’t. because knowing might hurt more than not knowing, and the delicate balance you’d created would come crashing down.

you hadn’t blocked him, not on anything. instead, you deleted every account, wiped your digital footprint clean, and changed your number. you made sure there was no way for him to reach you, no thread he could pull to unravel the wall you’d built between you.

you never allowed yourself to dwell on how hurt he might have been—how confused he must’ve felt, waiting for a call or a text that never came. the promises you’d made to him echoed in your mind, haunting you. i’ll tell him when the time is right. but the right time never came.

and then she was born. tiny fingers curling around yours, eyes so full of life. she reached milestones—her first smile, her first steps, her first word—and with each one, the weight of telling him grew heavier. how could you? how could you drop this truth on him after he’d already missed so much?

you imagined his reaction: the sharp edge of his disappointment, the rawness of his hurt, the anger that would burn in his chest. he’d ask you why—why did you wait? why did you let so much time pass? and you’d have no answer, nothing that could make it right.

as the years went by, the truth turned into a mountain too steep to climb. every day that passed felt like another brick in the wall separating you. every moment you stayed silent made it harder to imagine breaking that silence.

you told yourself it was for the best. you told yourself he deserved better than someone who had made this choice, this mess.

because deep down, you believed it: you didn’t deserve him. not anymore. not after this

the sound of tiny sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor filled the pediatrician’s office as you followed your daughter toward the nurse’s station. she clutched her favorite stuffed animal tightly in one hand while the other reached back for yours, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the colorful murals on the walls.

it was a routine check-up for minji, nothing out of the ordinary. she had been a healthy, happy child since birth, and today was just another appointment to ensure that everything was progressing as it should.

you had scheduled the appointment weeks ago, not knowing who the pediatrician was going to be. when you walked into the small, sunlit office, minji tugged excitedly on your sleeve, her eyes wide with curiosity at the brightly colored walls and the small toys scattered around the waiting room.

“mommy, look!” she gasped, pointing to a painted giraffe. her excitement momentarily eased the nervous flutter in your stomach. “a giraffe!”

“yes, it is, bun! good job!” you smile down at the little girl, holding your hand tightly.

it had been over three years. three years since you’d left your old life—and him—behind. baekhyun was supposed to be a part of your daughter’s story, but you made the impossible choice of keeping him out of it. his dreams had always been so big, and you didn’t want to weigh them down with your own.

a medical assistant called your name, her warm, practiced smile cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

you scooped your daughter into your arms, her tiny hands clutching her stuffed bunny, and followed the nurse into the examination room. she wriggled slightly but settled on your lap, the bunny tucked snugly under her chin as she began the usual routine.

height. weight. temperature. the nurse kept up a cheerful, steady rhythm of chatter, her voice a soft hum in the background as your daughter giggled at the stickers offered to her.

“dr. byun will be in shortly,” the medical assistant said with a final smile before leaving the room.

your heart stopped.

'dr. byun'?

no. it couldn’t be him. it had to be a coincidence. it was a common enough name, wasn’t it? but the sound of it crashed into you, unraveling the calm façade you’d so carefully built.

you told yourself you were being ridiculous. you told yourself to breathe. but the name echoed in your head, louder with every passing second, until you could barely hear your own thoughts over the roar of panic rising in your chest.

then came the knock.

soft. polite.

the door creaked open, and time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as he stepped inside.

your breath caught in your throat.

it was him.

fuck.

no.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. not like this. this wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. there were plans you never made, conversations you never had.

this was a complete and utter nightmare. and there was no waking up from it.

“hi, i’m dr. byun—” his voice wavered, the words barely leaving his lips before they caught in his throat. his eyes found yours, wide with recognition, a spark of disbelief flashing like lightning in a storm.

his gaze drifted downward, landing on the little girl perched on your lap. her tiny hands clutched your sweater, her curious eyes meeting his with unfiltered wonder.

for a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.

his lips parted, and your name slipped out, soft and breathless, as if saying it might make the moment vanish. “it’s you,” he murmured, a mixture of shock and something deeper lacing his tone.

you couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t push past the lump forming in your throat. it was as though every nerve in your body had frozen, locked under the weight of his stare.

your daughter, oblivious to the tension coiling around you, tilted her head with a sunny smile. her voice rang out, bright and pure, shattering the silence like glass.

“hi, dr. byun!” she chirped, her words sweet and unassuming, a small anchor of innocence in the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to pull you under.

baekhyun’s eyes widened instantly, flickering between you and her. you could see the cogs in his mind turning, the pieces falling into place far quicker than you were ready for.

his gaze lingered on her—studying, comparing. the resemblance was impossible to ignore. the same dark, expressive eyes that had once melted your heart, the same warm, radiant smile that mirrored his own.

“is…is she?” his voice was barely above a whisper, as though he wasn’t asking you but trying to make sense of the impossible himself. his eyes never left her, as if every second he stared brought him closer to the undeniable truth.

her delicate features were a perfect blend of you both, like a portrait painted with pieces of your souls. the curve of his nose graced her face, paired with the flush of your rosy cheeks. his silky black hair framed her tiny head, while your lips formed the gentle pout she wore even in sleep. your eyes shone through hers, but her ears—those were unmistakably his. she was everything you were, everything he was—woven together into this perfect, fragile little person, carrying pieces of a love that felt both timeless and out of reach. and now, looking at her, there was no denying it.

your mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. you tried to speak, to explain, to say something—anything—but all that escaped was a breath, shallow and lost in the silence that filled the space between you. the truth hung there, thick and fragile, like a thread that could snap at any moment, leaving you exposed.

you could only nod, slow and uncertain, as the weight of everything pressed down on you. the guilt was suffocating, heavy like a stone lodged in your chest, threatening to spill out in the form of tears you couldn’t afford to shed. but there was no escaping it anymore.

she was his.

baekhyun sank to his knees in front of her, his movements tentative, as if afraid that any sudden motion might make her disappear. he leaned in, eyes soft with a mixture of awe and something deeper, something unspoken.

“so, tell me. what’s your name, sweetheart?” his voice was gentle, tender, the words falling from his lips like a promise he wasn’t quite ready to make.

“minji,” she said proudly, her tiny hands holding up her stuffed bunny, as though it were the most important thing in the world. “this is sonny. she’s a bunny.”

the moment her name reached his ears, something shifted in baekhyun’s chest. his heart skipped, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, soft and amazed. for a brief second, he was lost in the memory of a quiet conversation—the one where you’d asked him what he would want to name your daughter, and how that moment, so simple, had felt like a lifetime ago.

“hi, minji,” he said softly, his voice trembling as his eyes locked onto her small, curious face. he crouched slightly, lowering himself to her level, and the words caught in his throat. “i’m…” his gaze flickered upward to yours, and in that brief second, the weight of it all was laid bare. his expression faltered, his eyes glossing with unshed tears, carrying the unspoken words and unresolved emotions that hung heavy between you.

you saw it then—the man he was before, the one you fell for, unchanged and yet altered by time and pain.

“…a good friend of your mommy’s,” he finally managed, the words shaky but kind.

minji giggled, her laughter light and carefree, like a burst of sunshine breaking through a storm. “mommy has lots of friends!” she chirped, her innocence unknowingly twisting the knife in baekhyun’s chest.

he nodded with a soft smile, his lips barely curving, as if the weight of her words was too much to bear. “she does, doesn’t she?” he murmured. his hands moved carefully as he began preparing for her exam, every motion deliberate, like he was trying to steady himself through the task.

but his eyes… his eyes stayed rooted to the ground, skirting around yours as if meeting your gaze would undo him entirely. and as you stood there, watching him avoid you, something inside you cracked. you knew why. you knew he wasn’t ready yet—not to face you, not to confront the flood of everything that had been left unsaid.

as baekhyun began the check-up, it was as if the floodgates of your heart had been ripped open. memories surged in, overwhelming you like a tidal wave—those plans you had once woven together, the future you had dreamed of, the life you thought you’d build before everything crumbled. nearly four years had passed since you disappeared without a trace, but those dreams now felt like fragile, delicate threads, tangled in the web of secrets you’d spun to protect him.

baekhyun moved with the same calm professionalism that you remembered—his hands steady and sure as he worked. but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, from the way he interacted with minji—his touch soft and deliberate, his voice lilting with that same soothing cadence. it was a tenderness that sliced through you, sharp and immediate, a reminder of everything you’d lost. how could you have let him slip away? how could you have convinced yourself that walking away was the right choice?

watching him, gently checking minji’s ears, his voice quieting her in the way he once did for you, something inside you twisted painfully. you couldn’t run from him anymore. not now. not ever again.

the exam ended far too quickly. minji bounced off the examination table, her bunny clutched in her small arms, and baekhyun handed you a stack of papers—educational handouts, visit summaries, the usual paperwork from a child’s wellness check. his fingers brushed yours as he passed them to you, and the brief touch left a burning trail that lingered long after.

minji’s small hand tugged at your sleeve, warm and insistent, her voice a soft melody that cut through the heavy air. “mommy, mommy! can we go play now?”

you forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. the weight of the moment pressed on your chest, and you fought to keep the tears from falling. “sure, bun. we’ll go in just a minute.”

the word bun hung in the air between you, and baekhyun flinched. his eyes flickered with something raw, a mix of pain and recognition. that name. it was something he used to call you— a relic of a past that felt both distant and achingly close.

his gaze didn’t leave you, like he was trying to unravel the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself. there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he was searching for something buried deep within you. the space between you both thickened, heavy with unspoken words. it felt suffocating, like the air was being stolen from your lungs. this was it. the moment that would change everything.

after what felt like an eternity, baekhyun cleared his throat, his voice thick with restraint. “we need to talk,” he said, the words heavy and laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “please… i just… i have so many questions.”

you nodded quickly, the anxiety twisting your insides into knots. “um, sure… i can meet you after i drop her off at daycare?” your words rushed out, frantic, as your brow furrowed in uncertainty.

"there’s a coffee shop nearby," he murmured, his voice soft yet steady, the words deliberate. his hand moved to pull out a notepad, pen poised above the paper. with a few swift strokes, he jotted down the name of the place before folding the paper and handing it to you. "i have a couple more patients to see this morning. do you think you can meet me there in an hour?"

his voice was calm, but his eyes—those eyes—told a different story. they flickered with something raw, something desperate, like a storm fighting its way to the surface.

you took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing his, a small shock of warmth shooting through you at the touch. you glanced down at the paper, his handwriting still familiar, though now slightly uneven, as if his nerves had bled into the ink. beneath the coffee shop's name, his number was written—neat but hurried, a subtle tremor in the lines.

you looked back up, and his gaze met yours—quiet, intense, full of unspoken things. without a word, he nodded toward the paper, his voice steady but laced with something fragile, something that didn’t quite fit with the man you knew. "that's my number, bun. just in case you're running late or something."

you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it felt tight, strained. his nickname for you—a small, tender thing—lingered in the air like a spark. you felt it in your chest, but the words caught in your throat. too much. too many emotions swirling. your hands moved on instinct, gathering minji’s things, offering him a tight, polite smile before ushering your daughter out of the room.

but just as you turned to leave, you swore you heard him whisper—barely audible, a plea caught between his teeth, "please, don't leave me hanging this time."

it hit you like a blow to the gut, leaving you breathless. the weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating.

and in that moment, you knew with brutal clarity—you deserved that.

you sat there, the weight of your nerves pressing down on you, each breath feeling too loud in the quiet of the café. baekhyun chatted casually with the barista, ordering drinks like it was any other day, like nothing had changed between you two. his voice was light, unbothered, but it only made the tension in your chest heavier. you gripped the strap of your bag so tightly your fingers ached, heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the soft hum of conversation around you. your mind raced in circles, desperately searching for the right words—something to apologize for the years you took from him, for keeping his daughter from him, for all the lies. but no matter how hard you tried to form the apology, the truth hovered over you: what you did was unforgivable.

when baekhyun finally returned, he slid your drink in front of you, his movements slower than usual, almost tentative. you brought the cup to your lips, the warmth of it familiar, the taste exactly as you remembered—comforting, like a quiet reminder of everything you'd tried to bury.

"i remembered how you liked your coffee," baekhyun murmured, his voice softer than before, tinged with uncertainty. "i hope it's still the same."

you met his gaze, your throat tight as you forced a small smile. "it is. thank you."

baekhyun exhaled a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging in the tousled strands. his eyes drifted away from yours, unable to meet your gaze, as if the weight of this moment was pressing down on him just as much as it was on you.

"so..." you began, your voice hesitant, but before you could find the right words, he interrupted.

“i’m engaged,” he blurted, the words sharp and sudden, like a slap to the face.

it hit you in the chest, the shock stealing the air from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the ground beneath you crumbling, and you couldn’t find your footing. as if this day wasn’t heavy enough, this new weight crushed you under its force.

"oh," you whispered, the word tasting hollow, barely escaping as your heart constricted. "congratulations. i'm sure she's... amazing."

"mhm," he hummed softly, a brief flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it faded. his eyes dropped to his coffee cup, watching the steam rise like he was searching for something in the shifting mist, anything to avoid the tension between you.

you couldn’t find the strength to say more. words seemed pointless now. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, your gaze fixed on the table as jealousy and heartbreak clawed at you from the inside. you knew you had no right to feel this way, no right to be hurt after everything that had happened. but still, the ache lingered, a quiet, relentless sting.

his fingers raked through his hair again, the tension in his jaw unmistakable as he exhaled sharply, frustration thick in the air. when he finally met your gaze, his eyes were raw with hurt, every unspoken word between you now painfully exposed. "so why didn't you tell me? about minji?"

you'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your mind, each word crafted carefully, but now, sitting across from him, it all felt empty, hollow. "you had just gotten into your residency program," you said softly, voice shaky. "it was your dream. i…i didn’t want to hold you back."

his eyes darkened, the hurt twisting into something sharper. "so what? you thought you could decide for me? you think i wouldn't have wanted to be there?" his voice cracked with emotion, rising. "do you have any idea how much i waited for you? how many nights i sat by the phone, praying you'd call?"

the weight of it hit you, hard. you'd known, of course—he'd been dropped from the program. he'd fought tooth and nail to get into a second-choice school, one that brought him here, to this city. and now, here he was, sitting across from you, the remnants of his sacrifice hanging in the silence between you.

his gaze faltered, dropping to the steaming cup in front of him. he stared at the swirling mist as if it held the answers, as if the rising steam could ease the hurt, the questions, the ache that had settled between you.

you didn’t know what to say anymore. words felt pointless, insignificant in the face of everything that had unfolded. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, unable to meet his eyes, while jealousy and regret clawed at your chest. it wasn’t your place to feel this way—not after everything you had done. but the sting of it, sharp and biting, wouldn’t fade.

the tears you had spent so long holding back finally began to break free, each drop feeling like it had been waiting a lifetime to fall. you didn’t want to keep apologizing, but the words slipped out, hollow and fragile. "it wasn’t an easy choice, baekhyun. i thought i was doing the right thing."

“‘the right thing’?” his voice softened, but the hurt in his words still rang out like a chord being pulled too tight. "you didn’t even give me a chance. i missed everything—her first steps, her first words. you took all of that from me."

your throat tightened, each breath harder to catch. you swallowed, and your voice cracked under the weight of the truth. “i know,” you whispered, the regret clawing at you. “i regret it every day.”

baekhyun’s hands were curled into fists, white knuckles pressing into the table like they could anchor him in place. he didn’t look at you—his gaze was lost in his coffee, the silence hanging heavily between you both. and then, after what felt like an eternity of stillness, he spoke again, his voice quieter, as if the question had burned him from the inside. “does she know?”

you shook your head slowly, feeling your chest tighten. “i haven’t told her. i didn’t know how... but she’s been asking. she sees the other kids with their dads and wonders why she doesn’t have one.”

baekhyun covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the raw pain. "i can't believe this. i can't believe you."

"i know, baekhyun," you whispered, tears spilling down your face without control now. "you have every right to hate me... and if you want, you don’t have to see either one of us again—"

his voice sliced through your words, thick with disbelief, tremoring as if he couldn’t comprehend what you were saying. "are you... are you serious right now? you’d leave? again? how is that supposed to fix anything? did you not think i wanted her? wanted you? we’ve talked about this, bun... you knew what it meant for me to be a dad."

the sobs broke free from you then, impossible to hold back, your chest aching with each desperate breath. you wiped at your face, but your hands trembled too violently, the tears just wouldn’t stop. all you could choke out were broken apologies, fragments of regret slipping between your breaths. "i knew you’d drop everything for her. for us. but... you becoming a doctor, that was your dream... and i was just so scared."

he leaned forward, his expression softening, but there was still a fire in his eyes. “i want to be in her life,” he said, his voice firm, steady, eyes red from the silent tears streaming down his face. “she’s my daughter. and i want to know her. i want her to know me. her father.”

you looked at him, your heart heavy with guilt. “i wasn’t planning to keep you away,” you said, your voice cracking. “i just... i didn’t know how to tell you after all this time.”

baekhyun’s gaze softened, his voice quieter but resolute. “we’ll figure it out. but i’m not letting you push me away again.”

you paused, biting your lip, anxiety clawing at your chest. “but what about your fiancée? you already had a life of your own before today…i can’t help but feel like i’ve fucked everything up for you, baekhyun.”

he shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping him before he quickly suppressed it. his voice faltered, the nickname slipping out before he even realized it. “don’t worry about that, bun—” he stopped mid-sentence, the word tasting strange and wrong on his tongue after your mention of his fiancée. it was as if, in that moment, he’d completely forgotten about her. he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “i mean… just let me handle that. but for now... please, promise me you won’t disappear again. promise me you won’t take her away from me. i’m begging you... let me in. i feel like you owe me that much.”

you nodded, the promise catching in your throat. “i promise.”

you scrolled slowly through your camera roll, fingers grazing over the images of your daughter, sharing them with baekhyun—each one, a snapshot of her life, a memory you’d held in secret for so long. each photo was like a tender piece of your soul, each moment a quiet confession of everything that had unfolded without him. there was a rawness in it, a vulnerability that felt like you were unwrapping your heart for him, and it was overwhelming. for both of you.

he sat there, eyes scanning the photos, and a storm of emotions swirled within him. there was anger, sharp and bitter, that you’d kept minji hidden from him. all those years, a secret that was both yours and hers to carry. betrayal lingered in his chest, not from you, but from the truth that he hadn’t been there, that he’d missed out on so much. and yet, despite it not being his fault, guilt settled heavy in his heart—guilt that you had to raise her alone. guilt for every moment you’d carried the weight of motherhood without him by your side.

but baekhyun, the man who had always been able to push past the shadows of the past, found something in the photos—something bright, something he could hold onto. minji’s smile, sweet and dimpled, was a beacon of hope. it was everything he needed to see, to ignite a fire within him. it wasn’t just a reminder of what was lost—it was the fuel that would drive him to make up for every single moment he’d missed.

the weight of the conversation shifted slowly, and before you even realized it, the words spilled out. you couldn’t stop yourself—you had to ask about her. his fiancée.

he told you her name was soo. they met during his residency, he said, when she helped pull him from the darkest corner of his life—the place where your absence had left him, broken and barely breathing. she was the one who stitched him back together, the one who healed the wound you’d left, a wound that, it seemed, only she could mend.

and yet, even as he spoke, despite the rawness of his confession, he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. he didn’t want to hurt you. but the words hung there, thick with unspoken emotions.

then, he showed you the photos. of her. oh god, she was beautiful. radiant, in a way that seemed to glow from within. they looked like they were made for each other, perfectly matched, intertwined in a way you could never hope to be. he spoke of her with awe—how brilliant and kind she was.

and as he spoke, something tugged at the edges of your thoughts. his eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth when he spoke of someone he loved, were different now. softer, distant. the sparkle that once lived there had dimmed, as if the affection he had for her wasn’t as alive as it once had been. you told yourself not to read too much into it, to not dwell on the subtle shift. it had been years. people changed, didn’t they? he wasn’t the same baekhyun you remembered. especially not after everything you had put him through.

it stirred a jealousy in you, sharp and bitter, but deeper than that, it left a dull ache settling in your chest. you longed to be the one he spoke of with such adoration, the one he admired in every way. you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if he ever spoke about you like that—if he ever felt for you the way he now seemed to feel for her. it burned like poison in your veins, a vile and familiar ache that made you sick to your stomach. you hated it. hated how it made you feel so small, so unimportant. the weight of it made you want to vanish, to slip out of your own skin, anything to escape the suffocating reality of it all. you should be happy for him. happy that he had found someone who could make him feel whole again. but all you could feel was the hollow ache of your own failure to ever be enough.

you tried to smile, tried to hold yourself together, but each compliment, each story, each glowing word about her, hit you like a dagger to the chest. you couldn’t listen anymore. you didn’t want to.

it was too much. before you even realized it, you were standing, your throat tight as you forced the words out. “i... i need to go. um, i have to make dinner…and pick up minji from daycare. i’ll text you. we can figure out a time for you both to meet properly.”

before he could respond, you were out the door, the bells above the café door jingling as you fled.

but you didn’t make it far. a few seconds later, you heard the hurried footsteps behind you, his voice calling out. “bun—fuck, wait! slow down!”

you could feel the tears streaming down your face again, hot and uncontrollable. you wiped them hastily, hoping he didn’t see. but of course, he did. he always did.

“look,” baekhyun began, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t place. “i never thought i’d hear from you again. and now you just—pop back into my life, on a random friday, with a daughter i had no idea about. i’m sorry if you’re upset that there’s someone else in my life. but please... don’t punish me for finding myself again after you completely destroyed me.”

his words hit harder than anything you could’ve prepared for. your knees felt weak, your heart shattering with every syllable. because it was true. every part of it. you had done this. you’d pushed him away, and now you had no right to feel this way, no right to demand anything.

"baek," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, trembling under the weight of everything you couldn’t say. "you’re right. i don’t have the right to feel this way. i just... when i saw you again, it was like everything came crashing back. all those old feelings—things i thought i’d buried—flooded back in an instant. but i swear, i won’t keep minji from you. i won’t. and... i’m honestly so glad you’ve found happiness. and soo—she... she seems amazing. i can see why you’re with her. and... i’m genuinely looking forward to co-parenting with you both. really."

you swallowed hard, the words like sandpaper against your throat. the lie at the end tasted bitter, clinging to the back of your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. you needed him to believe it. needed him to let you go so you could retreat to the quiet of your own space, where you could curl up and weep in the solitude of your own shame.

his expression softened, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “hmm…okay.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out your phone. “you left this on the table. and, uh… you promise you’ll stay in contact?”

you nodded quickly, unlocking your phone and typing your name into the message. “you have mine now, too.”

a small relief flashed in his eyes when he saw your name on the screen. he nodded, his voice steady. “thank you. let me know when you’re both ready. we’ll make this work.”

you nodded, your throat tight as you wiped away the last of the tears. you offered him a half-smile, barely managing to hold it together, before turning away. your feet felt heavy as you walked to your car, the silence between you louder than anything.

when you finally arrived home, everything came crashing down at once, a tidal wave that hit you full-force. the weight of everything you’d been holding inside pressed into your chest, suffocating, like your lungs had forgotten how to breathe. you collapsed, body trembling, as sobs wrenched their way through you—soft, guttural cries that seemed to echo in the emptiness of your apartment. tears streamed down your face, thick and relentless, each one heavier than the last, as if they were washing away more than just your sorrow. how had you managed to mess everything up this badly?

the feeling of being lost in your own failure was dizzying, a dark spiral that threatened to swallow you whole.

chanyeol, your next-door neighbor, was more than just a friendly face. he was a single parent too, his daughter nari being the same age as minji. from the moment you’d moved in, the girls had been inseparable—like they were two halves of the same whole, constantly together, sharing everything from toys to whispered secrets. and over time, you and chanyeol had become something more than neighbors. you were lifelines to one another, navigating the chaos of single parenthood side by side. daycare pickups, late-night texts for advice, emergency contact calls—they were moments that built trust, moments that held you both up when the world felt too heavy.

but then there were the other moments. the ones that neither of you had planned, yet they happened all the same.

on nights when the girls had sleepovers, tucked under either your roof or his, the house would fall into an eerie stillness, a quiet so profound it felt almost alien. no toys scattered across the floor, no giggles or whispers. just an empty house, and the faint hum of the world outside. in those moments, the bottle of wine always made its way to the table—deep crimson liquid swirling in your glass, catching the soft light in a way that felt too intimate, too inviting. the scent of it lingered in the air, rich and heady, like a secret waiting to be shared. one glass became two, then three, until the words flowed freely, unguarded.

laughter bubbled between you both, light and carefree, mingling with the quiet sounds of the night. and somewhere, in the subtle space between casual conversation and shared history, something shifted—unspoken, but impossible to ignore. it wasn’t deliberate, not in the beginning, but it was undeniable. a quiet tension hung between you both, the kind that hummed just below the surface, like a chord waiting to be struck.

in the warm, dim light, the lines between friendship and something more began to blur. his lips brushed yours—not quite a kiss, but not exactly innocent either. the taste of wine lingered on his mouth, mingling with something darker, something deeper, something unspoken. your hands—almost of their own accord—found their way to each other, fingers tracing the outline of familiar paths, not quite daring to go any further. the touch was careful, deliberate, like a dance on the edge of something you both knew was dangerous, but too tempting to resist.

each kiss lingered just long enough to leave you wanting more, but never deepened enough to cross the line you both feared. the weight of unspoken rules hung between you, pulling back every time either of you tried to cross the line. clothes were the only barrier between you, a fragile wall that you both clung to, even as the urge to tear it down grew stronger.

but even in the silence, the weight of your unresolved feelings for baekhyun settled heavily in the room, a ghost that neither of you could escape. and chanyeol—he carried his own baggage. the loss of his wife, a wound that had never fully healed, leaving him to raise nari on his own, balancing grief and fatherhood in a way that only he understood. he wasn’t looking for more. not from you. not yet.

the timing was all wrong, the space between you wasn’t yours to claim. but in those rare moments, it felt as if maybe, just maybe, it could have been.

it was never spoken aloud, but you both knew the truth. chanyeol knew you still loved baekhyun, and that truth hung between you like a quiet weight. neither of you disturbed it. the unspoken agreement between you was that your daughters came first, no matter what. whatever might have blossomed between you, if it ever did, had to come naturally, unburdened by guilt or pretense.

but in those moments, when the air between you grew thick with something more, a quiet voice inside you would pull you back. it reminded you of the messy knots still holding your heart in place, the wounds that hadn’t yet healed. you couldn’t move forward—not yet. not while your heart was still tangled with baekhyun.

chanyeol, always the gentleman, never pushed. he was patient, always aware of your needs, always respectful of the boundaries you set. when you needed to talk, he listened; when you needed space, he gave it. but in the quiet of his own heart, he couldn’t help but feel more for you than he allowed himself to admit. how could he not? you were beautiful, strong, and a devoted mother. you embraced nari as your own, and in doing so, you made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t express. even knowing your heart was still tethered to someone else, he couldn’t stop himself from wishing—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, one day you’d find your way to him.

he carried that silent ache with the kind of grace only he could muster, never letting it slip, even as it quietly wore at him, just a little more each day.

so when you texted him—asking if he could pick up minji, keeping the explanation vague, not wanting him to worry—he was there. barely ten minutes later, a soft knock at your door echoed through the silence.

when you opened it, his wide eyes met the mess that was you—mascara streaks trailing down your cheeks, a crumpled tissue clenched in your trembling hand. you tried to muster a smile, but it felt paper-thin, your voice weak and brittle. “yeolie? what’s up?”

the words barely left your lips before he froze in place, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “a-are you okay? what’s going on? did someone—did something happen? is minji okay? are you sick? do you need me to take you to the hospital?” his voice cracked, the flood of questions spilling out in rapid succession, his panic tangible.

you stepped aside, pulling the door open wider, silently inviting him in. he didn’t hesitate, stepping through, his gaze glued to yours like he was searching for answers in your tear-stained face.

he trailed behind you to the couch, his presence steady and grounding as you collapsed onto the cushions, tears streaming freely. through shaky breaths, you unraveled the tangled mess of your day—the awkward reunion, the jumbled emotions, the weight of everything that seemed to be crumbling all at once. you didn’t dare admit the jealousy clawing at your chest, the hollow ache that filled you when baekhyun spoke about his fiancée with such love. that part you kept tucked away, too raw, too humiliating to expose.

chanyeol sat beside you, his towering frame a comforting shadow as he listened. really listened. his hand moved in soothing circles along your back, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.

your words poured out, no longer confined to just the events of the day but expanding into everything—the years that had passed, the guilt that had burrowed deep and refused to let go. every regret, every misstep, every weight you’d carried alone spilled out in a torrent of tears and confessions. and chanyeol just sat there, unwavering, holding space for you in the way only a true friend could.

“hey,” he began, his voice soft yet steady, as if anchoring you in the storm of your own thoughts. that signature dimpled smile appeared, warm and reassuring, carrying a kindness that made your chest tighten. “no one’s perfect,” he said, his gaze locking with yours, as though he could see the weight of your regret. “it’s okay to have moments you wish you could take back. you don’t need to have it all figured out right now—just take it one step at a time, yeah? what matters is where you go from here, and i know you’ll choose the right path.”

his hand brushed against yours, grounding you further. “no matter what, nari and i will always be here. for you and minji. you’re not in this alone.”

you swallowed hard, his words cutting through the mess of emotions tangled in your chest. the sincerity in his voice, the unwavering warmth in his eyes—it was almost too much. you nodded slowly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. “i don’t even know if i deserve this kind of support... but it means everything. truly.”

your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, the weight of his reassurance settling over you like a safety net. the corner of your lips lifted into the faintest smile, a flicker of gratitude breaking through your doubt. “and…thank you, yeollie. for always being here for us.”

he pulled you into a hug, the kind only chanyeol could give—one that made you feel like you were wrapped in the coziest, softest blanket on the coldest day. his size alone made it impossible not to feel safe, like he could shield you from the entire world.

"stay put," he murmured, his voice low and soothing against your hair. "i’ll go pick up the girls. how about we pick up a pizza on the way home? maybe a bottle of wine to go with it?"

you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, the weight on your chest lifting just enough to let it out. "yeah... i’d like that. thanks, yeol."

he grinned as he stood, his steps sure and familiar as he moved to the fridge. the sound of the door opening and bottles clinking against each other filled the room. when he returned, he handed you one of the water bottles, twisting the cap off for you with ease.

"drink up," he said, flicking a finger gently under your chin to tilt your head up, a playful glint in his eyes. "don’t need you passing out on me from dehydration."

his teasing tone, coupled with the affection in his gesture, made your heart feel a little lighter. you took the bottle from him, your fingers brushing his briefly, and for the first time all day, you felt a spark of comfort.

later that night, minji lay tucked beneath her soft quilt, her favorite bunny held close to her chest. the warm glow of the nightlight painted her face in soft hues, the shadows dancing gently across her room like a lullaby. you leaned over her small form, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "i love you," you whispered, your voice a soothing murmur. "sleep tight, bun."

as your hand hovered over the light switch, her voice stopped you in your tracks, delicate yet filled with curiosity. "hey, mommy," she called, her tone innocent and thoughtful. "why does that doctor from earlier call you that, too?"

the question struck a chord deep within you, freezing you for a moment as your heart stumbled over itself. turning back toward her, you forced a smile, smoothing the sudden tension coiling in your chest. walking slowly to her bedside, you perched at the edge, meeting her wide, trusting eyes. "well," you started softly, your voice steady despite the fluttering unease within. "like dr. byun said, he's a really good friend of mine. that’s where i got your nickname, too."

her face lit up, her small smile so pure it made your heart ache. she nodded slowly, processing your words in that way only children can, her gaze thoughtful yet brimming with trust. "he was nice," she said, her tone sweet and certain. "i really liked him."

"yeah?" you asked, crouching down so your eyes were level with hers, the warmth of her sincerity wrapping around you like a blanket. her simple joy tugged at something tender within you. "would you like to see him again?"

her smile widened, blooming like the sun breaking through clouds. excitement sparkled in her eyes, her whole face lighting up in a way that mirrored her love for ice cream on hot afternoons. she nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

"uh-huh!" she chirped, her joy infectious, spreading a flicker of warmth through your own heart.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and full of love. "okay, bunny," you said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, your voice tender. "sleep tight, 'kay?" you pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment, before turning off the light. the door clicked shut softly behind you.

standing in the hallway, your back against the cool wall, you let out a long, shaky breath, the weight of the day settling heavily in your chest. the silence was broken by a ping from your phone, pulling you out of your thoughts. you stared at the screen, the light illuminating your face as a new message appeared.

baekhyun:

thank you for today. let’s talk soon about how we move forward—together.

your chest tightened, the words settling over you like a heavy blanket. this was the beginning of something you hadn’t seen coming, something that made your pulse race with equal parts fear and exhilaration.

you responded quickly, almost without thinking:

you free tomorrow to go over details?

the path ahead was a little scary and clouded with uncertainty, but one thing was for sure: baekhyun was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

baekhyun and minji bonded quicker than you ever imagined. their first playdate was a sunny afternoon at the park, where baekhyun seemed completely absorbed in her. every giggle, every burst of energy as she dashed between slides and swings, every scrunched-nose smile lit up his face. it was as if he was trying to memorize every little detail about her, committing her essence to memory. minji, ever the social butterfly, welcomed him without hesitation—just as she did her classmates, her teachers, and even chanyeol.

chanyeol.

his name slipped into your thoughts uninvited, a shadow that tugged at your focus. why were you thinking about him now? you blinked hard, shaking the thought away. the last thing you needed was to let another layer of complication invade your already chaotic emotions.

then came that afternoon. baekhyun had come to drop minji off at your place, the usual familiarity of the moment interrupted by the unexpected. when the door swung open, it wasn’t you standing there—it was chanyeol.

“baekhyun, right?” chanyeol greeted him warmly, his easy smile bright enough to momentarily disarm. his dimple pressed deep into his cheek, as if it was carved there just for moments like this. snapping his fingers in playful recognition, he added, “i’ve heard so much about you.” he gestured casually over his shoulder, as if to invite baekhyun in. “i’m chanyeol. and that’s nari over there.”

baekhyun froze, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like an invisible force. for a split second, his expression faltered, eyes flickering to the cheerful little girl in the background, her laughter filling the air. then, his gaze shifted back to chanyeol, studying him with a quiet intensity. there was something unspoken in the air between them, subtle yet impossible to ignore—a tension that lingered like a low hum.

his eyes darted past chanyeol, chest tightening as they landed on you. you were seated on the floor, cross-legged, a radiant smile stretching across your face as you and nari played with minji’s toys. the sound of your laughter, bright and unguarded, hit him square in the chest, stirring something raw and vulnerable deep inside him. you looked so at ease, as if the joy spilling from you was effortless, untouched by the weight of the past.

“hi, chanyeol!” minji’s voice rang out, cutting through the fog of his thoughts. her tiny arms stretched toward the tall man, her excitement spilling over in a cheerful squeal.

chanyeol didn’t hesitate, scooping her up with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times before. “i missed you!” minji giggled, wrapping her small arms tightly around his neck.

“i missed you too, bun,” chanyeol replied with a wide grin, holding her close.

baekhyun’s stomach twisted, the word hitting him like a slap. bun. his nickname for her. no—their nickname. a sharp possessiveness surged through him, hot and consuming. did chanyeol call you that too? the thought crept in like a poison, making his jaw tighten. it was irrational, and yet it burned, carving out a hollow ache in his chest.

you stood then, walking toward them, your smile warm and glowing like the softest light. chanyeol still had minji perched on his hip, cradling her as if she were his own. he leaned in, planting an exaggerated, playful kiss on her cheek, earning a burst of delighted giggles from her.

the sound, the sight of it all—your ease, minji’s trust, chanyeol’s familiarity—brought baekhyun to the edge. his chest tightened, his breathing shallow, and for a brief, unsteady moment, he felt like he might collapse under the weight of it. the life he wanted was right in front of him, his life, and yet, it felt just out of reach.

“i missed you, bunny,” you murmured, your fingers tenderly brushing through her soft, dark hair. minji tilted her head up to you, her eyes glittering like tiny stars. then she turned to him, her small hand waving eagerly. “bye, baekhyun!” she chirped, her voice bright and pure, her little toothy grin so heartbreakingly innocent it nearly brought him to his knees.

baekhyun’s chest tightened, the pressure unbearable. how could something so sweet hurt so much?

you stepped closer, and for a fleeting moment, baekhyun forgot how to breathe. your smile was warm, easy, and devastatingly familiar—a smile that used to be his. it softened the tension hanging in the air, but to him, it cut deeper than any blade.

“thanks for picking her up from daycare,” you said, your voice gentle, almost apologetic. the sincerity in your tone slipped past every defense he’d tried to build since that day you walked back into his life. “did you wanna come inside for a bit? we usually do taco tuesdays with chanyeol and nari. you’re more than welcome to join us.”

your words were casual, but the invitation felt anything but. “i think it’d be great, actually,” you added, your voice bright with optimism. “since chanyeol’s been in minji’s life for a little over a year now.”

the floor seemed to tilt beneath him. his body stiffened, and a violent twist gripped his heart. chanyeol. a year. the words echoed mercilessly in his mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else. he wanted to tell you no, to scream it, to tell you he’d rather rip his chest open and claw his heart out than walk into that house and see the life you were building without him. a life that looked so perfect. a life where he was nothing but a footnote.

instead, he forced a smile—thin, hollow, the kind of smile that only deepened the cracks in his façade. it was nothing more than a mask, a feeble attempt to conceal the storm raging beneath his skin. “i’m actually in a hurry,” he said, the words stiff and unnatural as they stumbled off his tongue. “gotta get to the clinic.”

a lie, plain and simple. it came too easily, slipping past his lips like second nature. the instant it escaped, he felt the sick churn of regret twisting in his stomach, his voice betraying him with a clipped edge he couldn’t quite hide.

your head tilted slightly, confusion flickering across your face like a shadow. “didn’t you guys already close for the day?” you asked, your brows knitting together in that subtle way that always made his chest ache. “it’s past six.”

his pulse stuttered, a silent curse tumbling through his mind as he fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t shatter the fragile distance he was desperately clinging to. but nothing came. nothing convincing enough. nothing that didn’t feel like quicksand.

his feet shifted instinctively, retreating before his resolve could crumble further. “charts and prescriptions and... you know, stuff,” he mumbled, taking an awkward step back. “i’ll see you later.”

before you could say another word, he turned, walking briskly toward his car. his steps were measured, his pride refusing to let him break into a full-on sprint, even as his heart hammered like a war drum. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his lie and your confusion pressing down on him like a vice.

he didn’t dare look back. if he did, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going.

from behind him, minji’s giggles rang out like music, the sound breaking through the thickness in the air. you were pressing playful kisses to her cheeks, your exaggerated smooches sending her into a fit of laughter.

it was almost too much. the scene—the two of you together, so natural, so perfect—made his knees weak. he gripped the handle of his car door and paused, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to look back. to stay.

but he didn’t. he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away, leaving behind the ache that followed him everywhere you and minji weren’t.

as baekhyun drove away, his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned a stark white. the image of you standing there with chanyeol and the two girls—your girls—seared into his mind, an indelible mark he couldn’t shake. you looked like a perfect family, like something pulled straight out of a dream. but for baekhyun, it was nothing short of a nightmare.

every mile he put between himself and your door pressed harder on the ache in his chest. his thoughts roared louder than the hum of the engine, drowning out everything but one relentless truth: that should’ve been me.

he couldn’t keep doing this—living in the fragile shell of a life that barely held him together. pretending he was fine without you, without minji. pretending that every day apart wasn’t hollow, wasn’t agony. each moment away from the two of you felt like a wound he couldn’t heal, the kind that gnawed at him constantly, leaving him restless and raw.

he dragged a trembling hand through his hair as the silence around him became unbearable. pacing the length of his living room later that night, his mind was still trapped back at your doorstep. he could hear your laugh echoing in his ears, the way it always lit up every corner of his world. the memory of your voice, soft and full of meaning, saying his name. minji’s tiny hands gripping his, her trust as effortless as her love. every memory sharpened the longing, the undeniable knowledge that you were his. you always had been. and yet, here he was—stuck in a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.

it wasn’t fair. not to him. not to you. and certainly not to her. the woman waiting for him at home, wearing the ring he had slipped onto her finger when he was too weak to face the truth. she deserved more. she deserved better. she deserved a man who wasn’t haunted by another woman’s smile, another child’s laughter.

his fists clenched at his sides as the weight of his choices bore down on him. guilt dug into him like a blade, twisting with every second. and yet, beneath it all, one truth burned brighter than anything else: he needed you. he needed you and minji, your warmth, your chaos, the life you had created without him.

he could feel it unraveling, the lie he was clinging to. every passing day stretched it thinner, threatening to snap. and when it did, he wasn’t sure what would be left of him—only that it wouldn’t be enough without you.

after a few more park playdates, you invited baekhyun over for dinner. when he arrived, he held two bouquets—one vibrant and blooming for you, and a smaller, delicate arrangement for minji.

minji’s face lit up as she clutched her flowers, her excitement spilling over as she helped baekhyun carefully arrange them in vases. you watched from the kitchen, your hands busy with dinner but your heart quietly swelling at the sight of them together.

dinner came and went in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. afterward, baekhyun insisted on helping clean up, minji trailing behind him like his little shadow. yet through it all, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze lingered on you—soft, almost yearning. and every time you caught him, he’d quickly look away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself it was nothing. that the bouquet meant nothing. but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat every time your eyes met. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you told yourself it was absurd. he’s engaged, you reminded yourself firmly. he’s in love with someone else. it’s not you anymore. it hasn’t been for years.

later, baekhyun offered to get minji ready for bed, his enthusiasm lighting up the room. he approached each part of her bedtime routine with such care—a playful splash during her bath, patient encouragement as she brushed her teeth, and a warm smile as he read her a bedtime story.

you stood in the hallway, listening to her giggles and his gentle voice, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name.

you walked back to the kitchen, the soft hum of the house wrapping around you as you reached for the wine bottle. the deep red liquid swirled as you poured it into two glasses, the rich aroma curling in the air. baekhyun had worked magic tonight, easing a rowdy toddler into sleep as if it were the simplest thing in the world. the image of him tucking minji in still lingered in your mind—a quiet smile on his face, his touch gentle but sure.

you thought about all the time you and minji had been spending with baekhyun lately felt like something out of a dream. it was everything you’d ever wished for but never thought you’d have. he slipped so seamlessly into her world, as if he’d always been there. their bond was undeniable—tickle fights that left her squealing with laughter, quiet moments where she leaned into him with absolute trust. watching them together only deepened the ache in your chest, the one that whispered how foolish you’d been to keep her from him for so long.

you told him as much one late afternoon, after a long stroll through the park. minji had fallen asleep in his arms, her little body spent from an afternoon of running through the playground while he chased her, pretending to be some silly monster. her tiny cheek squished against his shoulder, her breath soft and steady as she drooled onto his jacket. the two of you had laughed quietly, careful not to wake her.

“guess she’s making up for all the times it was you she drooled on instead,” he teased with a smirk, his voice warm and low.

it was in that fragile, golden moment that the words you’d been holding back tumbled out. “baekhyun, i... i’ve been feeling so awful. i’m not saying this for pity, i just—every time i see you with her, the guilt claws at me. i can’t believe i kept her from you for so long…i’m so sorry.”

your voice cracked, and then there were tears—hot, stinging, relentless.

baekhyun stopped in his tracks, his steps crunching against the gravel path as he gently grabbed your arm. his touch was firm but steady, grounding. he turned you to face him, his gaze steady, unwavering.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling you out of your spiral. “what matters is now. and the future. i trust you, and i know you won’t keep her from me again. i’ve forgiven you... but maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”

his words settled over you like a balm, soothing and unyielding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of your guilt began to feel a little lighter.

you’re pulled from your thoughts by the soft click of her bedroom door, the quiet shuffle of baekhyun’s steps filling the silence as he makes his way toward you. you know the sound of his walk so well, even after all these years. it’s comforting, familiar—the same measured rhythm, the same ease. in so many ways, he hasn’t changed. his laugh, his warm personality, the way his eyes crinkle into crescent moons when he smiles.

“she’s out,” he announces from the hallway, his voice soft but tinged with satisfaction as he spots you at the dining table.

you hand him the glass of wine you’d poured moments before, holding it out like a peace offering. “this is for all your hard work,” you tease, a light grin tugging at your lips.

he chuckles, the sound low and warm as he takes the glass from your hand, his fingers grazing yours for a fleeting second. the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, unexpected but unmistakable, and you quickly avert your gaze, staring down at the table like it holds all the answers.

he settles into the chair beside you, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth radiating from him. you sip your wine, trying to steady yourself, before speaking. “so... have you and soo talked about setting up a time to meet her?”

his face shifts at the mention of her name. the change is subtle but telling—a flicker of discomfort, the kind you can’t unsee once you notice it.

“yeah,” he says after a pause, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of the wine glass. he takes a sip before continuing, his tone quieter now. “i actually wanted to talk to you about her.”

your heart sinks, unease settling in your chest like a stone. “oh?” you ask, cautious. “is everything okay?”

the worst thoughts swirl in your mind, a storm of possibilities. maybe she doesn’t want baekhyun spending time with minji. maybe she’s uncomfortable with you being part of the equation.

he exhales sharply, his thumb brushing against the rim of the glass. “yeah... i mean, i guess.” there’s a pause, a weight to his words that makes you hold your breath. “the engagement’s been called off.” his voice is steady, almost too steady, as if rehearsed.

your jaw drops before you can stop it. the shock is written all over your face, and baekhyun winces at your reaction, his gaze darting away. you quickly compose yourself, snapping your mouth shut as heat rises to your cheeks. “what happened?” you blurt, the words spilling out before you can think twice. “you seemed... so happy.”

your voice falters, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped. the weight of your question lingers between you, heavy and unspoken, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

“i was. or... at least, i thought i was,” he says, his voice low and almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid to admit it even to himself. his hand moves to his hair, ruffling it in that familiar way he always did when the weight of his thoughts pressed too hard on him. a reflex, a habit you never forgot.

“and then you walked back into my life.” his voice is quiet, but there’s a rawness to it, like he’s pulling the words straight from the deepest part of him. your breath hitches, the air between you growing unbearably still as his gaze locks onto yours. there’s something in his eyes—something aching, desperate, like he’s trying to hold himself together while unraveling all at once.

“with her,” he continues, his voice breaking just enough to make your chest tighten, “this little girl who’s... everything. everything i didn’t know i was missing. she’s you and me, all tangled up in the most perfect way.” he swallows hard, his jaw clenching as though he’s fighting to steady himself. “and suddenly, nothing else makes sense anymore. not without you. not without her.”

the moment those words left his lips, the air seemed to shift. everything stilled—the hum of the world faded into silence, leaving only the thunderous echo of your heartbeat in your ears. had he really said that? the words hung between you, raw and unguarded, threatening to unravel everything you thought you understood.

his eyes searched yours, hesitant but resolute, as if willing you to see the truth in his gaze. when he spoke again, his voice softened, carrying a weight that made your breath hitch. “and the more time i spent with you both... the more i realized you’re what i want. you and minji. you’re what i really want in my life.”

his confession hit you with the force of a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs. you felt the ground tilt beneath you, the walls you’d carefully built around your heart quaking under the pressure of his words.

“baekhyun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your chest tightening as you forced yourself to ask, “are you… are you serious?”

but you already knew the answer. you could see it, clear as day, in the way his gaze didn’t waver.

“we can take our time… start slow,” baekhyun exhales, his voice carrying the weight of his confession as if it had been lodged in his chest for years. the vulnerability in his tone is raw, unguarded, and it almost makes you forget to breathe. “i mean… if that’s what you want, too.”

his words trail off, and for a moment, his usual confidence falters. a quiet doubt creeps into his thoughts—what if you’ve moved on? what if you don’t want this? the possibility churns in his mind, making him feel smaller, suddenly unsure.

“sorry,” he blurts out, shaking his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “i shouldn’t have said that—”

“no,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle, grounding him. your hand finds his, your fingers curling around his in a touch that feels achingly familiar, as though no time has passed. the warmth of his skin against yours sends a spark racing through your veins, a reassurance you didn’t realize you both needed.

he looks up, his eyes wide with hesitation, and you hold his gaze. “i’d… actually like that,” you admit, your voice softer now, a smile tugging at your lips. “start slow and see where we go.”

his shoulders visibly relax, and the faintest glimmer of hope flickers in his eyes. he squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like the two of you are stepping into something whole and unbroken.

two weeks later, you stood in front of your closet, the door wide open and a growing pile of discarded clothes spilling onto the floor.

you were getting ready for a date.

with baekhyun.

your first date as parents.

the thought made your stomach flip with nerves and excitement. it felt surreal, almost like stepping into a story you didn’t dare dream for yourself. but as much as the idea of this new beginning thrilled you, the reality of your wardrobe—or lack thereof—was starting to feel like a nightmare.

minji was spending the evening with chanyeol and nari, her overnight bag already packed and slung over chanyeol’s shoulder when he came to pick her up. you couldn’t miss the way his expression shifted when you told him the reason for the favor, his smile faltering for the briefest second.

“it’s just dinner,” you’d explained softly. “we’re taking things slow, seeing where it goes.”

chanyeol had nodded, his lips pressing into a tight line. he couldn’t quite mask the pain in his eyes, though he tried.

“of course,” he’d said eventually, his voice steady despite the storm you could feel brewing beneath. “you know i’m always here for you…and minji.”

because that was just who chanyeol was—a steady, selfless anchor, even when it hurt.

now, as you tore through hangers and drawers, you glanced at your phone, a spike of panic shooting through you. less than two hours. how had the time slipped away so fast?

you groaned, flopping onto your bed as you stared at the heap of options that just weren’t right. nothing screamed ‘first date with the father of your child.’ nothing said ‘i’m nervous but excited and maybe a little terrified but i also want to look stunning.’

baekhyun.

you imagined the moment baekhyun would arrive, the image of him clear in your mind as if he were already standing at your door. he’d look effortlessly polished, the way only he could manage—like he’d stepped out of a magazine without even trying. his shirt would probably hug his lean frame just right, the soft fabric teasing at the lines of his shoulders and chest. his hair, always perfectly imperfect, would fall into place with a casualness that made you suspect he’d only run his fingers through it once before heading out.

and then there were his eyes—those warm, honeyed depths that had a way of making the world feel quieter, smaller. they carried a quiet determination now, a depth that hadn’t always been there, like the years apart had reshaped him, sharpened his focus. you could almost see the subtle tilt of his lips when he caught sight of you, a smile that wasn’t overly practiced but natural, like it belonged there because you did.

he never needed much time to get ready, and yet he always looked like he did. that was the thing about baekhyun—everything about him was easy, seamless, like he existed in his own effortless rhythm. it wasn’t about the clothes he chose or the way he styled his hair; it was about the energy he carried, the quiet confidence that drew people in.

and tonight, he’d be coming to pick you up—not just as the baekhyun you’d known before, but as someone determined to start fresh, someone who wanted to show you that maybe, just maybe, this could really work out.

you exhaled deeply, steadying yourself as you slid off the bed. pull it together, you thought, brushing your curled hair out of your face. tonight wasn’t just another evening—it felt like the start of something new, something tentative and hopeful, and you wanted to look the part. not just for baekhyun, but for yourself. you wanted to feel like the best version of you—the woman you were before, and the woman you were becoming.

your eyes drifted toward the top of your closet, where an old, forgotten box rested among stacks of seasonal items and spare blankets. a spark of hope flickered. you vaguely remembered stuffing your pre-pregnancy clothes up there, unable to let them go but convinced they might never fit again. now, that box felt like a treasure chest waiting to be rediscovered.

grabbing a step ladder, you climbed carefully, brushing the thick layer of dust from the box’s lid before tugging it down. a cloud of nostalgia seemed to escape as you peeled it open. there they were—rows of fabrics, textures, and memories you hadn’t touched in years. silky blouses, form-fitting dresses, sleek skirts... all the outfits you used to wear when going out felt like a second skin.

you sifted through them, piece by piece, fingers grazing over familiar fabrics as your heart swelled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. you pulled out a sleek dress, holding it up against yourself in the mirror. to your delight—and a little disbelief—it still fit, hugging your post-pregnancy curves in ways that made you feel both proud and beautiful.

you were finishing the last touches on your hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, slicing through the air like a sudden jolt. a flutter of butterflies stirred in your stomach, their wings beating furiously as nerves surged through you all at once. instinctively, you reached for your perfume, spritzing it lightly over your neck, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a soft, comforting embrace.

you took a long, steadying breath, eyes tracing your reflection in the mirror, checking every detail—the delicate curve of your lashes, the soft glow of your skin, the way your lips curved just right. you stepped back, allowing yourself a moment to really see the woman in front of you. had it really been so long since you dressed up like this? for anyone? the question lingered in the air.

and then it hit you, clear as day. it had been since baekhyun. a quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head, bemused by the realization. there was something about tonight that felt different, something about this moment, this new chapter, that made everything feel... significant.

with a final glance at your reflection, you straightened up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you walked toward the door, each step a little more deliberate, a little more full of purpose. this wasn’t just a date. this was something else entirely.

when the door swung open and baekhyun saw you, his breath hitched, the air suddenly too thick to pull into his lungs. his gaze swept over you, deliberate and slow, as if his mind needed time to register every curve, every detail, every shimmer of the fabric that clung to you. his heart thundered in his chest, a wild rhythm he couldn’t control, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.

you were devastating. the dress—that dress—hugged you perfectly, its soft sheen catching the dim hallway light, every subtle movement making it seem alive, as though it had been designed for this exact moment. it was the same one you’d worn before, in a memory he kept locked away for years. back then, you’d twirled in front of him, laughing, your joy so infectious it had carved itself into his soul. seeing it again now, seeing you now, was almost too much.

but this wasn’t just a walk down memory lane. this wasn’t then. everything was different now—he was different, you were different. yet, somehow, that pull between you felt as raw and undeniable as it had the first time he’d laid eyes on you.

except now, you weren’t just the girl he’d loved with everything in him, the girl he’d lost, the girl he thought he’d never have again. you were minji’s mother. his daughter’s mother. and seeing you like this—so stunning it almost hurt—sent a new kind of longing through him. it wasn’t just want, though god, he wanted you. it was need, aching and all-consuming, a yearning that went far beyond physical desire. he needed to prove himself, to prove that he could be more for you, for minji. that this time, he wouldn’t let you slip away.

his hands twitched at his sides, desperate to reach for you, to touch, to hold, to pull you close enough to feel the warmth of your body against his. the temptation was staggering, nearly unbearable. his mind flickered with flashes of all the ways he wanted you—how it would feel to bury his face in your neck, to whisper promises against your skin, to hear you say his name like you used to.

but he held himself back, swallowing hard, locking it all down. not now. he couldn’t rush this. he couldn’t risk ruining it.

when his eyes met yours, his lips curved into the softest of smiles, one that didn’t quite mask the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. “you…” he paused, his voice catching before he found it again. “you look incredible.” the words came out low, steady, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them.

for a brief second, his eyes dropped back to the dress, his mind betraying him with an image of it lying forgotten on the floor, of you in his arms, of everything he was fighting to keep at bay. the thought made his chest tighten, and he let out a soft chuckle, as if to diffuse the tension he felt coiled so tightly within him.

but he didn’t move. not yet. instead, he let the moment stretch, imagining the day when he wouldn’t have to hold back, when he wouldn’t have to hesitate. when he could love you the way he wanted to—completely, without fear, without doubt, without restraint.

after dinner, the two of you strolled back to your place, the night humming with the warmth of shared laughter and lingering glances. the soft glow of streetlights cast a golden sheen over everything, making the world feel dreamlike, almost suspended in time. the wine coursing through your veins made the air lighter, the edges of reality softer, as though nothing truly mattered except the man walking beside you.

when you reached the door, your fingers fumbled with the keys, the metal slipping awkwardly in your grasp. you giggled, a sound so sweet it made baekhyun’s chest tighten. he stood behind you, his presence warm and steady, his hands gently finding their way to your waist. his touch was light, but it burned in the most delicious way.

“need a hand?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, his breath grazing your ear as he leaned closer.

you turned your head just slightly, your smile playful. “please,” you murmured, trying—and failing—to mask the way his closeness made your pulse quicken.

together, you managed to coax the door open, his hand guiding yours with a deliberate slowness that made you shiver. once inside, he closed the door behind him with a quiet click, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the space.

“nightcap?” you asked, your tone casual, though the mischief in your eyes betrayed you. your cheeks were warm, not just from the wine but from the way his gaze lingered, heavy and intent.

baekhyun didn’t answer right away. his eyes stayed locked on you, tracing the curve of your cheek, the way your lips curled into that familiar, teasing grin. his gaze dipped lower, lingering on the dress that clung to you like a second skin. that dress. the one he couldn’t stop thinking about all night, the one he wanted to peel off you with his teeth.

he swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep himself in check. the air between you thickened, crackling with an unspoken tension. he took a slow, deliberate step closer, the movement barely noticeable, but the way his eyes darkened said everything his lips couldn’t.

“yeah,” he finally murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges. “a nightcap sounds good.”

but it wasn’t the drink he wanted. no, the only thing he wanted was standing right in front of him, flushed and radiant, looking at him with eyes that could undo him in a heartbeat. every instinct screamed at him to close the space, to kiss you breathless, to pull you into him and never let go. but he didn’t. not yet. he was holding onto a thread of control, as thin and fragile as the air between you.

for now, he could wait. but god, you were making it impossible.

he could barely hold himself together, his self-control stretched thinner with each passing second. honestly, he deserved an award—no, a damn medal—for the composure he managed to keep throughout dinner. every moment was its own quiet war, every glance from you a calculated blow, every soft laugh a fatal shot to his already fragile defenses. your presence was a sweet, maddening intoxication, pulling him under in waves he couldn’t escape.

the way you looked at him—those eyes full of something gentle, something tender, something that felt like home—was almost his undoing. his fingers curled tightly against his thighs, his knuckles blanching as he fought the urge to reach for you. your smile, radiant and unguarded, had him aching in ways he thought he’d forgotten, stirring something raw and desperate in the pit of his stomach. and your voice—god, your voice—danced through the air, warm and melodic, like the first song he’d ever loved.

and then there were those moments when you looked at him, really looked at him. it was in the softness of your gaze, the way it lingered a second too long, the way it stripped him bare without a single word. it was as if you still saw him—truly saw him—the way you used to, back when you were his. that look, full of unspoken truths, clung to him like an echo, whispering things he didn’t dare hope for. you still love me. you still love me. the thought struck like lightning, leaving him dazed and breathless, his pulse thundering in his ears.

his chest tightened with the weight of it all—the yearning, the disbelief, the sheer impossibility of the moment. it was as though everything that had gone wrong, all the time that had stretched between you, suddenly dissolved, rendered meaningless in the face of this. it was just the two of you now, the world fading into a blurry background, holding its breath as if waiting for him to do what every fiber of his being screamed for: close the distance.

the need was relentless, searing through him like fire. his fingers twitched with the urge to touch you, to cradle your face in his hands and trace the contours of your cheek, to see if your skin still felt as soft as he remembered. his lips burned with the craving to kiss you, to taste the laughter that had tormented him all night, to claim the love he had been starving for since the day you walked away.

it had been almost four agonizing years since you left him behind, taking the light of his world with you. he thought he’d buried the pain, that he’d learned to live with the emptiness you left. but now, here you were, so close he could hear the rhythm of your breaths, feel the warmth radiating from your skin. and he realized with a clarity that stole the air from his lungs: none of that pain mattered anymore. not the silence, not the heartbreak, not the years. all that mattered was you—here, now, in front of him.

his breath hitched at the thought, and he found himself imagining what it would feel like when he finally kissed you again. his lips hovering just inches from yours, the space between you crackling with tension. he could already feel the pull, that same magnetic connection that had always been there, waiting for the moment he could touch you. and when their lips finally met, he knew—he knew—it would be just like before. that same sweetness, that same softness, the curve of your lips fitting perfectly against his, like you were always meant to belong to him.

no one had ever kissed him the way you did. no one else had ever left him breathless, drowning in the intensity of it, as if your kiss had the power to remake him. and god, he wanted it again. needed it.

he wanted you, wanted you so badly, the need pooling in his chest, a hot, tight ache he couldn’t ignore. he could already taste you, feel the warmth of your lips beneath his. he remembered how your kiss had once made him feel weightless, like he was falling into something beautiful, intoxicating. it was all he’d thought about the entire night.

and the way you looked now, that dress clinging to you like it had all those years ago, just made him ache even more. he couldn’t stop the images running through his mind—ripping it off of you, feeling your body pressed against his, tasting the sweetness of your kiss once again, just like he had done so many times before. the desire to feel you underneath him, to bury himself in the softness of you, was almost unbearable. he wanted it. he wanted you.

but instead, he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with barely contained longing, “yeah, a nightcap sounds good.”

his fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to touch you, but he held himself back, feeling the heat rise between you both, a tension so thick it was almost unbearable.

"here, let me pour the drinks for us," he murmured, his voice low and steady as he took your jacket and purse, hanging them with a quiet care on the coat rack.

you raised an eyebrow, teasing, "oh?" the corners of your lips twitched, fighting back a smile as you bit your bottom lip. your lashes fluttered lightly, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks as you met his gaze. "i’m just getting spoiled tonight, aren’t i?" you teased, the memory of how he'd practically wrestled the check from your hands earlier still fresh in your mind. it made you laugh softly, a sound that seemed to melt into the air.

but before you could say anything more, he was there, his hand coming up instinctively to cup your cheek. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing lightly against the softness of your skin, tracing the curve of your cheek, your chin, and finally resting just below your lower lip. his touch was so gentle, so deliberate, and yet it stirred something deeper inside you—a quiet yearning that you were both trying to contain.

you met his eyes, searching his face, knowing the unspoken truth before he even voiced it. you could see it—the way his gaze lingered, the way his breath hitched just slightly as he studied you. he wanted to kiss you. you could feel the tension rising, thick and palpable between you, but still, he held back, the weight of restraint pressing on him.

not wanting to push him, you offered him a sweet, reassuring smile, the kind that spoke of understanding without words. the sight of it seemed to stop him in his tracks, and his heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat.

baekhyun’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “spoiled?” he echoed, leaning in just slightly, enough for his voice to drop a fraction, rich and smooth. “c’mon, bun, i’m sure you remember what me spoiling you really looks like.”

his words hit like a soft nudge to a locked door, memories rushing in before you could stop them. you remembered the way he used to spoil you relentlessly back in college, how his love language seemed to be written in lavish gifts and thoughtful gestures. designer handbags you could never justify buying for yourself, delicate jewelry that always seemed to match the sparkle in his eyes when he fastened the clasps himself.

he’d surprise you with new outfits for events you didn’t even know you’d be attending until he planned them—your wardrobe practically transformed by his generosity. every time the newest iphone dropped, he’d make sure it was in your hands within days, complete with a customized case he knew you’d love. he’d slip his card to waiters or store clerks before you could even think to pay.

and then there were the practical things, like covering your car payments or arranging maintenance before you even realized you needed it, his way of taking care of you without ever making you feel small for it. he never wanted you to stress, and you’d laugh at the absurdity of it all while secretly melting at the way he seemed to know what you needed before you did.

baekhyun had money. plenty of it. his family’s wealth wasn’t something he flaunted, but it was there, shaping the way he provided for you. your family wasn’t poor, but you didn’t have the same financial ease. you worked hard for the things you had, but baekhyun never made you feel less than, never made you uncomfortable about it. his quiet humility and the way he never flaunted his wealth made it all feel normal—money was never the issue. it was always about the love you shared.

you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck as you met his gaze again. his eyes were on you now, softer but still teasing, as if he could tell exactly where your thoughts had gone. “besides” he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “i’m just making up for lost time. can you blame me?”

one glass turned into two, then three, each sip loosening the tension in the air, but also building something new between you, something heady and electric. laughter spilled from your lips, the sound light and careless, but underneath it, a growing warmth that neither of you could ignore. the night seemed to blur around the edges, the wine clouding your thoughts, making everything softer, more daring.

the bottles emptied one by one, their presence a witness to the hours that had melted away as you lingered in each other’s company. the glasses tipped over, forgotten, their contents pooling on the floor like spilled memories. it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except the way he looked at you—intensely, as if every part of him was drawn to you in a way that left him no choice but to pull you closer.

and then, he kissed you.

it was slow at first, almost tentative, like he was relearning the shape of your lips, the rhythm of your breath. but it didn’t stay that way for long. in an instant, the kiss deepened, the years of separation melting into a blur of heat and urgency. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer—closer, until you were climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him without hesitation.

his mouth was scorching, addictive, just like you remembered. it was the taste of him, rich like wine but unmistakably him—a flavor you thought you’d buried, but now you realized you could never forget. his kisses were messy, hungry, each one leaving you breathless as soft moans and breathless whimpers slipped between you. his hands roamed with purpose, sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you flush against him. his grip was firm, possessive, so achingly familiar that it made your head spin.

you felt the growing bulge beneath you, hard and urgent, straining against his pants. the pressure sent a sharp jolt of need straight to your core, igniting a fire you couldn’t ignore. warmth pooled between your legs, soaking you as your hips rocked instinctively against him. a deep, guttural groan escaped him, vibrating against your lips as you kissed him harder, hungrier.

“i missed you,” you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips as they traveled to the curve of his neck. you nipped at the sensitive skin below his ear, the spot you knew drove him wild. sure enough, a soft, desperate moan spilled from him, and you smiled against his skin, savoring the sound of him unraveling beneath you.

"i love you, bun," he whispered, his voice soft yet heavy with meaning, a tremor of raw emotion in every word. his gaze, unwavering and intense, locked onto yours, as if he could reach inside you with just a look. his lips brushed yours, so lightly it almost felt like a delicate promise. "i... i don’t think i ever stopped."

the words crashed into you, like a wave breaking against the shore, unexpected yet inevitable. your heart skipped, breath caught in your chest as the depth of his confession wrapped around you, pulling you under. "i love you, too, baekhyun," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but steady—anchored in the truth that had always been there, buried beneath the years of silence. "i never stopped."

and then, his lips were on yours again, and it was as if the world snapped back into place, the pieces aligning with the force of your shared confession. finally, it felt like home. like you were where you were always meant to be. your body responded instinctively, moving closer, desperate to feel the heat that had always simmered between you two. you ground against him, slow, deliberate, an aching need rising in you both. the friction between you sent jolts of electricity through your veins, a fire sparking to life as you felt him tense beneath you, his hands tightening on your hips.

for a brief moment, you thought he'd pull you in fully, lose himself in the moment as much as you were. but instead, his body went rigid, stilling beneath you as if every muscle had locked in place.

"wait—" his voice cracked, the sound thick with a dangerous mix of yearning and restraint. his hands stilled your movements, holding you in place. you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you, shallow breaths betraying the storm inside him. "i don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. i know we agreed to take things slow. i can wait."

his words cut through the haze of your desire, stopping you dead in your tracks. the sincerity in his eyes hit you like a tidal wave. he was holding back—for you.

for you.

the ache in your chest was sharp, but in the best possible way.

without saying a word, you reached down, sliding his hand beneath your dress, guiding him to where you were already burning. his breath caught when his fingers brushed against your bare skin. his eyes widened, shock crossing his features as he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

"feel how wet you’ve made me?" you whispered, your lips grazing his ear, your voice low, sultry, teasing. the way his chest moves as his breathing becomes more deeper, heavier as if it’s taking everything in him not to put his fingers to work on that sloppy cunt of yours. you could feel his restraint fraying, and you couldn’t help but smile.

"still think i wanna take things slow?" you teased, your thumb tracing the curve of his bottom lip, urging him to act.

you could feel his body tremble under your touch, his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted, his fingers just barely grazing where you needed him most. the hunger in his eyes was almost unbearable, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips over his jaw, waiting for him to break.

his composure shattered. his eyes fluttered shut as you brought his slick-coated fingers to your mouth, your tongue swirling around them slowly, deliberately. the taste of yourself on him was heady, and you sucked his fingers clean, the act sending a shiver down his spine.

“fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with hunger. “ya sure about this, bun?” each syllable a desperate plea as his restraint teetered dangerously close to breaking.

you nodded, eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of innocence and promise. your lashes fluttered like the softest caress as you looked up at him, lips swollen and bruised from his fevered kisses, a delicate pout lingering on them. the sight of made his dick twitch. “always been sure when it comes to you, baek.”

the words hit him like a wave, and with a shuddering sigh, he couldn’t hold back anymore. his lips crashed against yours, possessive and hungry, claiming you as if he’d never get another chance. one arm wrapped around your head, fingers threading through your hair with a desperate need, while the other hand slid to your ass, squeezing it roughly. his grip tightened, a subtle warning, but you could feel the way his muscles strained, the raw tension in his touch. every press of his fingers into your skin felt like a brand, like he was marking you, anchoring himself to you. his touch was a blaze, a wildfire that scorched you in the best way, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear an inch of distance.

and then the world tilted.

with a surge of power and urgency, he lifted you without hesitation—strong, commanding, as though he was claiming you in the most primal of ways. a breathless gasp escaped your lips, the sound of surprise barely escaping before his hands cradled you, holding you as if you were made of something more fragile than glass. he held you with reverence, but there was an edge to it, a possessiveness that promised he would never let you go.

his breath is heavy against your neck, warm and uneven, betraying the restraint he’s barely holding onto. your body is pressed tightly to his chest, his heart pounding against yours, every beat echoing the unspoken promises that linger in the air. each step he takes toward your bedroom is deliberate, charged, as though the distance is unbearable, as if he can’t get you there fast enough.

"shit," he muttered, his voice rough and low as he lowered you onto the edge of your bed. the realization hit him like a tidal wave, cold and relentless, stealing his focus. his gaze flickered to yours, a storm of panic swirling in his eyes. “i didn’t bring any condoms. do you… do you have any?”

his question lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, cutting deeper than the surface. the knot in his stomach tightened, the thought of someone else touching you during the time apart clawing at his insides. he hated the idea more than he cared to admit.

your laughter cut through the tension, soft but laced with something playful, a gentle ring that seemed to fill the space between you. "no, baek," you replied, your voice a breathless melody. "i haven’t had sex—well, any action, really—since you." the confession slipped out before you could stop it, and though a blush bloomed on your cheeks, you held his gaze. there was a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes, but it only made his heart race faster.

his breath hitched audibly, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. his heartbeat thundered in his ears, his chest rising and falling with the weight of your words. “you’re serious?” he whispered, disbelief laced with something else—pride. his lips curved upward into a slow, cocky grin, the kind that made your stomach flip. the thought of you untouched by anyone else since him fed something primal, something possessive.

you nodded, your teeth sinking into your lip like you were weighing the impact of your words. embarrassment rushed to your neck, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his stare. it burned through you, molten and unwavering, making your heart thrum harder with every passing second.

“fuck,” he rasped, the word almost guttural, like he couldn’t contain the surge of raw emotion. it was your turn to smile, a cocky glint lighting up your eyes. but when he spoke again, the weight of his confession hit you harder than you expected.

"i haven’t gone raw in anyone since you."

the words hung heavy in the air, suffocating with meaning. the way he said it, so casually, like it was a fact that only made sense in the world he had built around you, made your pulse spike. it was everything—the promise, the truth. your knees weakened at the depth of his gaze, molten like a fire you couldn’t escape.

"d’ya trust me, bun?" he whispered, voice low, the words slipping from his lips with a possessive kind of hunger.

you swallowed thickly, your breath coming out uneven, heart pounding in your throat. your pulse raced, and despite the weight of his question, you somehow found your voice, breathless and full of raw honesty.

“with my life.”

his lips curled into that signature, boyish grin that had always undone you, a glint of mischief dancing in his darkened eyes.

without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hands brushing the smooth, delicate skin of your arms before they drifted to the zipper at your back. in one seamless motion, his fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling your dress down with a fluid grace that seemed almost too effortless, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. the fabric slid off you like a memory, slipping to the floor as he guided you back onto the pillows, leaving you bare under the weight of his gaze.

his breath faltered as he drank you in, his eyes tracing every inch of your skin, the intensity of his hunger for you pressing against him like an ache that made his chest tighten. "god," he breathed out, the word barely escaping his lips as if he was speaking to himself more than to you, his hands gently exploring your exposed body like he was memorizing it, as though each touch could never be repeated.

but then it came—the surge of insecurity, creeping in from the edges of your mind like a dark cloud, unwelcome and cold. without thinking, you crossed your arms over your body, your hands instinctively covering the soft curves you’d learned to live with, but had never quite come to accept.

baekhyun saw it instantly. the shift in you, the way you tried to pull away, to hide. his expression softened, his gaze darkening with understanding as he stepped closer. his voice, low and steady, was a balm to your wounded confidence. “don’t you ever feel the need to hide from me,” he murmured, each word laced with an unspoken promise. his hands were gentle, yet firm, as he took hold of your wrists, slowly guiding them away from your body and placing them at your sides. the weight of his touch was reassuring, a silent command for you to trust him, to trust that he saw you—all of you—and that was all he wanted.

his touch was almost ethereal, like a whisper against your skin. his fingertips grazed the curve of your breasts, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. “bigger,” he murmured, the word thick with admiration, as if discovering something new about you—something he’d always known he wanted. his hands traveled lower, tracing the lines of your waist, feeling the soft expansion of your hips beneath his palms.

when his fingers brushed over the subtle stretch marks on your ass, a low, guttural groan escaped him, the sound vibrating through the air between you. his body tensed, his desire unmistakable, radiating off of him in waves. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he said, his gaze never leaving the soft, inviting shape of your body, as if memorizing every inch of you.

his hand drifted to your stomach, his finger moving with slow deliberation, drawing a path down the center of your abdomen, a slow, torturous line that set your nerves alight. “you’re gonna feel me,” he rasped, his voice husky, the words carrying a weight of promise. his thumb pressed gently into the sensitive skin just above your belly button, sending a shiver spiraling through your body. “right here,” he murmured, his eyes locking with yours—dark, smoldering, intense with intent.

the teasing, the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something intoxicating—it was too much. your hands clenched at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, the need to feel him overwhelming. without a second thought, your lips crashed against his, urgent and desperate. the kiss was hungry, frantic, your mouths pressing against each other as you fumbled with the fabric of his clothes, your body burning for more.

his laugh rumbled against your lips, the sound low and rich as he pulled back just enough to smirk down at you. “eager, aren’t we?”

you didn’t miss a beat, your fingers working at his waistband as you bit back, “just wanna see if you still know how to fuck me properly.”

his laugh deepened, full and throaty, as he shoved his boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock. “glad to see that smart mouth of yours hasn’t changed, bun,” he said, his grin wicked. he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he added, “i’ma have fun puttin’ it to good use later.”

your breath hitched, your heart pounding in anticipation as he pressed closer, the weight of his words and his presence igniting every nerve in your body.

he positions himself at your entrance, and your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding so hard you can feel it echo in your ears. the heat radiating from him, the subtle brush of his skin against yours, sends a shiver rippling through your body. his tip, swollen and leaking, nudges against you, dragging slowly through your wetness, teasing with a precision that makes your toes curl.

he lingers at your entrance, just barely pressing in before retreating, spreading his precum and your slick together in a maddening rhythm. the sensation of his velvety tip gliding over your folds, grazing your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your core. every deliberate movement feels like a silent taunt, a reminder of how much he’s savoring this moment—savoring you.

“baek, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling, desperate. your fingers clutch the sheets beneath you, nails digging in as if grounding yourself could somehow stave off the overwhelming need building inside you. tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as the relentless teasing pushes you closer to the edge of begging.

his own restraint is fraying, evident in the way his breath hitches, the way his hands tremble slightly as they grip your hips. he leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes smoldering with a mix of lust and longing. “oh— fffuuuccck, i missed you,” he groans, his voice strained, thick with emotion and need.

his words barely register before he begins to push in, his throbbing tip stretching you inch by agonizing inch. the sensation of him filling you—so warm, so familiar yet impossibly intense—forces a soft gasp from your lips. he exhales sharply, his jaw clenched, savoring every second, every sensation, as though this moment is the only thing that matters in the world.

baekhyun’s gaze flickers to your face, catching the faint wince that creases your features, gone as quickly as it came, but not quick enough to escape him. his brows knit together, his concern palpable, etched into the soft lines of his expression. he stays perfectly still, his body taut with restraint, as if afraid to move and hurt you. the stretch stings, yes, but there’s something deeper beneath it—a delicious burn that ignites every nerve, leaving you teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.

“baby, you good?” his voice is low, soft, a husky murmur that wraps around you like the warmest comfort, his tone threading worry with tenderness, his concern a steady anchor in the haze between you. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with a mix of restraint and hunger, like he’s balancing on the precipice of losing control but refusing to let it happen until you’re ready.

you nod, though your breath catches, a sharp inhale that betrays the lingering ache as you will yourself to adjust. you shift your hips slightly, testing, feeling the stretch give way to something deeper, something raw that tugs at your core and sets your pulse hammering.

he groans, low and guttural, a sound dragged from the depths of his chest as he feels you take him in just a little more. his breath stutters, breaking like a thread pulled too tight, his hands flexing where they rest on your hips. the sharp ache dissolves into heat, into a magnetic pull you can’t resist. his reaction tells you he’s just as wrecked as you are, caught in the unbearable tension of holding back when everything about this moment demands he let go.

baekhyun’s exhale shudders, his head tipping back as his grip on your hips tightens just enough to remind you of his control. “fuck,” he rasps, the word rough and shaky, his voice carrying a mix of awe and restraint. “i missed the way you feel around me.”

his words send a ripple of heat through you, raw and unfiltered, a confession of just how much you’re undoing him. his fingers dig into your skin, grounding him, though his gaze never strays from yours. the tension coils tighter with every passing second, his dark eyes blazing with something possessive, something unrelenting, as though he’s holding back the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

your need burns hotter, desperation clawing its way to the forefront. “baekhyun—,” you beg, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. “please... just hurry up and fuck me.”

the plea comes out shaky, your voice trembling with want, and for a moment, you feel utterly exposed. but the effect on him is instant. his lips curl into a slow, wicked smile, his expression one of pure, devastating control as if that's all he needed to hear. “as you wish, sweetheart,” he grunts, his voice thick with promise and unrestrained desire.

his hands tighten their hold on your hips, strong and commanding, as he shifts his position. with a flex of his arms, he lifts you with effortless strength, your body rising until you can feel the head of his cock stretching you once more. the tension builds, unbearable and heady, before he slams you down onto him in one fluid motion.

the force of it steals the breath from your lungs, the intensity of him filling you completely, stretching you to your limit. the sound that escapes you is ragged, a cry of pleasure that seems to echo in the air between you. baekhyun’s growl rumbles low in his chest, primal and rough, as his hips meet yours, bottoming out with a precision that leaves you trembling.

his movements are deliberate yet feral, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, his hands never leaving your body as if anchoring you to him. his need is palpable, pouring out in every motion, every flex of his muscles as he claims you with an intensity that sets every nerve ending alight.

“ya feel so fuckin’ perfect,” he groans against your skin, the words muffled but soaked in reverence as his lips press to your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach. every motion, every sound, every touch pulls you deeper into him, blurring the lines between where you end and he begins.

he missed you. god, every inch of him missed you. it’s like his cock remembers every curve, every slick ridge of your walls, molding to him perfectly. and of course, he lets you know, his voice breaking into a string of desperate confessions. “f-fuck… m’sorry. ya squeezin’ me so tight. i think ‘m gonna cum soon hah– and ‘m gonna fuck it right back into this perfect—ngh—cunt.”

“hah—baek,” you whine, your voice trembling as you fully surrender to him. your body rocks helplessly in rhythm with his relentless thrusts, his cock plunging so deep it leaves you gasping. “s-so deep—hngh… can feel you here—” your hand snakes down, guiding his to press against your stomach, right where the swollen head of his cock is relentlessly hitting that devastatingly sweet spot.

his breath hitches, a low, disbelieving laugh huffing out as his fingers press into your skin. “fuck,” he groans, his eyes dark with lust, fixed on you, utterly wrecked beneath him. his hand is on top of the other as they press down over the slight bulge where he’s buried so deeply inside you. “feel that, baby? that’s me… stretching this pretty pussy out so good.”

his words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and it’s too much—all of it, the weight of him, the filthy praise falling from his lips, the way his hands grip you like you’re something precious, even as he loses himself in you.

“baek—oh god!” your cry echoes through the room as your body shatters beneath him, the first orgasm of the night ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. his lips crash against yours, swallowing your desperate moans as his hand moves lower, fingers finding your clit in quick, precise circles. the overstimulation sends sparks shooting through your veins, the pleasure stretching, elongating, as he coaxes every last wave from you.

“that’s it—hah. cum for me angel,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice softening even as his hips keep their punishing rhythm, chasing his own release. “y'so perfect, baby. nngghh—so fuckin' perfect for me…and finally mine again.”

“been y-yours,” you hiss, dragging out the word as his crazed tip whacks itself against your sensitive spot. again, again, and again—he’s hitting against that same spot as if it were a target and he never misses. his frantic hits against your core causes your toes to curl and your back to arch even further as you’re slowly being brought closer to your orgasmic, teetering edge. “ffuuck! ‘m cumming again, baek, cumming.”

your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, sweeping you into a realm that feels like heaven itself. your body gives out beneath the intensity, collapsing back against the mattress as baekhyun hovers over you, his breath hot and heavy. his tongue trails a slick, wet path down the curve of your neck, his touch a sinful mix of reverence and hunger as you unravel completely beneath him.

baekhyun’s body is pressed flush against yours, his every movement slow yet calculated, like he’s savoring each second, each inch, as if the world might steal you away from him again. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, the sheer intensity in his dark, lidded eyes making it impossible to look away. his breath is ragged, the sound mingling with the soft gasps spilling from your lips, the two of you lost in a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.

“please,” he rasps, his voice cracking, raw with emotion. his forehead presses to yours, the touch grounding and desperate as he sinks deeper, his hips stuttering like the closeness of you is too much, too overwhelming to contain. “please, don’t fuckin’ leave me again.”

his words linger, heavy and aching, filling the space between you with the weight of every unspoken hurt, every moment lost. his fingers tighten on your hips, digging into your skin as though the feel of you beneath him is the only thing tethering him to reality. his thrusts grow erratic, uneven, each movement betraying the fragility of his control.

“nggghh—i think...” his voice falters, a low groan spilling from his lips as he buries his face into the curve of your neck. his mouth grazes your skin, reverent, desperate, the ghost of his breath hot and trembling against you. “i think i’ll die if you do. god, i can’t—i can’t spend another fuckin’ day without you.”

your heart clenches painfully, his vulnerability cutting straight through you like a blade. his body trembles against yours, every inch of him straining to keep you close, to pour everything he feels into the spaces between you. your fingers find their way into his hair, threading through the damp strands as you tug gently, coaxing him to meet your gaze.

his eyes lift, dark and glassy, brimming with emotion so unguarded it threatens to undo you. devotion, fear, yearning—they’re all there, laid bare and unfiltered.

“baekhyun,” you whisper, your voice a delicate tremor, barely audible over the shared gasps of breath between you. your hands cradle his face, fingertips brushing over the damp strands of his hair as if trying to ground him, to ground yourself, in this fragile, fleeting moment. “’m not going anywhere. i’m here... i’m yours. we’re yours.”

his breath catches, shuddering under the weight of your words, and a sound—fragile, broken—escapes him. he surges forward, pulling you closer, deeper, until it feels like he’s trying to fuse your souls together, to erase every inch of space between you. his thrusts are slower now, deliberate, every roll of his hips steeped in something more than desire—something raw and sacred, like a plea, a promise, an apology all at once.

your body arches into his, a guttural whine ripping from your throat as his cock pulses within your walls, stretching, filling, consuming. your muscles clench around him, your body dragging him deeper into your heat, and his control shatters like glass.

“f-fuckin’ shit,” he growls through gritted teeth, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into you, heat blooming deep inside, marking you in every sense of the word. the intensity steals the breath from your lungs, and as the waves of pleasure crash over you, pulling you under, your release spirals into his, the two of you breaking apart and piecing yourselves back together in the same breath.

his lips find yours, the kiss frantic and messy, a collision of tongues and teeth as if he’s trying to reclaim the time you spent apart. every ragged moan, every whispered curse and gasp fills the room, the air thick with the symphony of your shared need. the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you—entangled, desperate, and utterly consumed by the moment.

it’s not just lust, not just longing—it’s everything. years of heartache, love, and an aching, unrelenting need poured into every kiss, every thrust, every whispered vow that promises you’ll never leave each other again.

your walls clench around him again, coaxing more from him, and he groans deeply, his arms looping around your waist to anchor you to him. his grip is firm, almost desperate, holding your trembling hips in place as his thick, creamy release paints your insides. it’s obscene, the way it trickles down your shaking thighs, a messy, lewd reminder of everything he’s giving you. but baekhyun doesn’t stop—not yet. his hips slow, but only slightly, rolling into you with a lazy, unrelenting rhythm as if determined to fuck every drop back into you.

it’s filthy, yes, but there’s something almost tender in the way his lips brush against yours again, his deep moans muffled as his movements grow languid, sweet in their intensity. he nips at your bottom lip, his voice a teasing rasp when he finally pulls back just enough to speak, his forehead pressed to yours.

"how ’bout we give minji a sibling, huh?" the words spill from him, low and teasing, yet dripping with intent, his hips punctuating the question with a deliberate thrust that has you crying out.

your brain short-circuits, the world spinning as his cock drags against your sensitive walls. your head nods before you can even process his words, a frantic, needy motion as your body betrays just how utterly drunk you are on him. thinking straight? impossible. all you can manage is a breathless, choked moan of agreement, your fingers digging into his back as he continues to work you into oblivion."yeah?" your voice trembles, still riding the waves of your last high. "well, we’ve got all night to try."

the morning sun filtered softly through the trees as you stood at your front door, your body still humming with the afterglow of the night before. baekhyun’s car had just turned the corner, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and the weight of his goodbye kiss still lingering on your lips. you smiled to yourself, the memory of his warm hands on your waist and the way he’d looked at you all night filling you with a quiet joy.

but then your thoughts shifted, and a familiar ache settled in your chest. you glanced to your left, to chanyeol’s house, where your daughter, minji, was probably still fast asleep. you wondered when you should go pick her up, already missing the sound of her giggles and the way she always ran to you with open arms.

your gaze lingered on his house, warm affection for your daughter mingling with a twinge of guilt. chanyeol had been nothing but kind—stepping in to watch minji overnight so you and baekhyun could have this time together. but as your eyes traced the windows, movement caught your attention.

the curtain in the living room fluttered, a shadow shifting behind it before it was quickly pulled shut. the abruptness of the action made your heart sink. someone had been watching. you didn’t need to guess who.

your stomach twisted as the realization hit you. chanyeol.

the look on his face from last night flashed through your mind—the way his mouth had tightened, his expression faltering when you’d casually mentioned your plans with baekhyun. you’d tried to soften the blow, telling him you were "taking things slow," but now those words felt hollow, like a broken promise.

slow? the sight of you outside your front door in baekhyun’s shirt, kissing him goodbye, told a different story.

the weight of the moment pressed on you, guilt pooling heavy in your chest. chanyeol didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve to see this, to piece together the night you’d spent with baekhyun and feel whatever it was you knew he must be feeling.

for a second, you thought about knocking on his door, about saying something—anything—that might ease the tension now crackling in the air between your homes. but instead, you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to step inside your own door. maybe it was better this way, to let the moment settle, to deal with the aftermath later when your thoughts were clearer.

but as you shut the door behind you, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

chanyeol:

hey, can we talk?

a sigh escapes your lips, the guilt in your chest an ache that refuses to fade. you were already bracing for this conversation, knowing it had to happen, knowing you owed him this clarity. more than that, you still wanted him in your life—him and nari both. they had become such an integral part of your and minji's world, their presence a steady anchor in the chaos. you had to make sure he understood that.

your thumbs hover over the screen, the words forming before you can second-guess them.

yeah, i think we should, yeol.

chanyeol sits on the couch beside you, though the space between you feels like a canyon. it’s a noticeable difference from how he used to sit, closer, as if the world wasn’t big enough to separate the two of you.

he brought minji home a few minutes ago, fast asleep against his shoulder, her cheek pressed to him in the way only a child could manage, soft and unguarded. her little mouth hung open, a whisper of snores escaping as if the world around her didn’t exist. she’d been worn out from a full morning playing with his sister’s kids and nari, her tiny form so peaceful it made your heart ache. you’d both had quietly tucked her into bed together. and now here you were, back in the living room, perched on the edge of an unspoken conversation.

his sister had stopped by his place earlier this morning, her kids in tow for a chaotic playdate with nari and minji. she’d agreed to watch nari while chanyeol brought minji back home and you and him have this talk, though he’d been vague about why he needed the time. what was he supposed to say? “i’m going next door to talk to the girl i’ve been madly crushing on for over a year about seeing her kiss her ex-boyfriend and baby daddy and now i don’t know where i stand.” no. too messy. too raw. too much.

his jaw tightens, a small movement you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. the weight of his presence feels like it’s pressing against your chest, suffocating and grounding all at once. you glance at him, then quickly look away, unsure of how to start this conversation. unsure if you even can.

the silence between you stretches, awkward and heavy. you try to fill it with small talk, your voice soft. “how was minji last night?”

he glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. there’s something pained in his expression, something restrained. “she was great. she always is.”

you smile faintly, but it fades as guilt bubbles in your chest. “look, chanyeol,” you start, your voice tentative, “i’m sorry for what you saw this morning. it probably didn’t make me look like ‘mother of the year.’” you pause, exhaling slowly. “i know i said baekhyun and i were going to take things slow, but… one thing led to another, and—”

“stop,” he interrupts, his voice sharp but not unkind. his hand comes up, almost reflexively, as if to shield himself from your words. he winces, and you know it’s because he’s picturing it—baekhyun’s hands on you, his lips on yours. where chanyeol wishes his own could be.

his shoulders slump as he exhales, the tension in his body evident. his face is a mosaic of emotions—hurt, frustration, resignation. “i don’t think i want to hear the details… about what happened with you and baekhyun.”

the air grows heavier, his words filling the space between you. for a moment, neither of you speaks. then, he sighs again, his voice quieter this time, softer. “i just came to say that i get it.”

you blink, caught off guard. “you do?”

he nods, his gaze falling to his hands, which rest loosely in his lap. “yeah,” he says, the word heavy with a weight he’s carried for longer than you probably realize. “i always knew your heart was still with him. filled with him. i thought that maybe, over time, with me… and nari… we—i—would fill it instead.” his voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat, forcing himself to go on. “but then he came along. and even then, i was still foolish enough to believe i had a chance.”

your heart clenches, the rawness in his voice cutting deeper than any accusation ever could.

he looks up at you, his eyes earnest despite the ache swimming in them. “but i just want you to know… don’t feel guilty. about this. about me. nari and i—we’ll still be here for you and minji. always.”

his words hit you like a wave, and you’re left staring at him, your chest tight and your throat dry. there’s no anger in his voice, no bitterness, just an overwhelming sense of loss and quiet acceptance.

and somehow, that hurts even more.

you open your mouth, but no words come out. what can you possibly say to that? to a man who has just stripped himself bare, laying his feelings and heartbreak at your feet without a hint of resentment? guilt swirls in your stomach, heavy and unrelenting, but beneath it is something softer—gratitude.

“chanyeol,” you finally manage, your voice quiet, shaky. “i… i don’t even know where to start.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you’ve had for as long as you can remember. “i never meant to hurt you. i swear, i didn’t.”

his smile is small, sad, and fleeting. “i know.”

“you mean so much to me,” you continue, your voice gaining strength. “and not just because you’ve been so good to minji and me, but because you’re… you’re you. you’ve been a constant in our lives when everything else felt so uncertain.”

his gaze flickers to yours, and the weight of his emotions is almost too much to bear.

“but,” you add, hesitating because the truth feels like a betrayal, “i can’t lie to you. when baekhyun came back, it stirred up so much that i thought i’d buried. i thought i’d moved on, but… seeing him again…” you trail off, unsure how to finish without twisting the knife further.

“i get it,” he says softly, sparing you the need to say more.

“i don’t deserve you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “you’ve been nothing but kind and patient, and i hate that i’ve put you in this position. but… thank you. for everything. for understanding, for being here, for—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off gently, his voice firm but kind. “don’t thank me like this is the end of something. nari and minji are still best friends, and i’m not going anywhere. you don’t get rid of me that easily.”

his attempt at humor coaxes a faint smile from you, though the tears welling in your eyes threaten to spill over. “you’re too good, you know that?”

he shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that’s almost a smile. “or maybe i just have bad timing.”

you both fall silent again, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. you want to hug him, to thank him properly, but you know it’s not what he needs right now. instead, you place a hand on his, squeezing it gently.

“i’m sorry,” you say again, your voice barely above a whisper.

he squeezes back, his touch warm despite the distance he’s trying to keep. “me too.”

and with that, the moment shifts, leaving behind a bittersweet ache that doesn’t feel quite like an ending but more like an understanding—a quiet closure to what could have been. as chanyeol stands to leave, his hand moves instinctively, gently cupping your chin. his thumb grazes the soft curve of it, a gesture so intimately familiar it almost feels like a promise.

his eyes meet yours, but this time, there’s no playful glint, no trace of hope lingering there. instead, his gaze is calm, tinged with a bittersweet acceptance that sits heavy in the space between you. his lips pull into a small, wistful smile—warm enough to remind you of the connection you once shared but tempered by the reality that things have changed.

“we’ll be okay,” he says softly, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “nari and i… we’ll always be here for you and minji. that doesn’t change.”

his voice is steady, not heavy with regret but grounded in the knowledge that some paths aren’t meant to intertwine the way he might have once hoped. and as he steps back, the warmth of his touch fades, but not in a way that feels cold or distant.

instead, it feels like understanding.

he hesitates for a moment, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, but then he nods slightly, his smile growing just enough to feel reassuring. “see you around, yeah?”

“yeah,” you manage, your voice soft but steady.

with that, he turns and walks out the door—not leaving behind a void, but rather a quiet sense of peace. the kind of peace that comes with knowing some connections will always remain, even if they’ve shifted into something new.

baekhyun had started staying over on weekends. it had been his idea initially, a way to make up for the years he missed with minji—but somewhere along the way, it became about more than that. your relationship with him had been blossoming, as if no time had been lost.

the nights you spent together felt like a rediscovery of who you both were, a bittersweet journey through what was and what could be. after minji would fall asleep, the two of you would sit on the couch, sharing stories from the years apart. his late-night shifts at the hospital during his program, your struggles navigating motherhood alone, the little triumphs and heartbreaks in between.

what surprised you most was how much had stayed the same. you still had the same taste in music, still argued playfully over which movie to watch. even the new interests you’d each picked up fit together seamlessly—baekhyun teasing you about your new baking obsession while you mocked his newfound love for photography.

it was during one of those weekends, after a long day spent at the park with minji, that things shifted. the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the night outside. minji had gone to bed hours ago, worn out from a day of running around, and now you lay tangled in the sheets with baekhyun, your skin still warm from the closeness you’d just shared.

his arm draped lazily over your waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your skin. “i’ve been thinking,” he murmured, his voice soft but serious.

you turned to face him, your cheek brushing against his bare chest. “about what?”

“about telling her,” he said, his hand stilling on your side. “minji. that i’m her dad.”

you blinked up at him, the words settling heavily in the air between you. it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind, but hearing him say it made it feel... real.

“you think she’s ready?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “she’s smart, you know? she already knows there’s something different about the way i am with her. and with you.” his lips quirked into a small smile. “plus, i want her to know. i want her to know how much i love her. how much i love... this.”

your breath hitched, his words wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. “you really think now’s the time?”

baekhyun shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. “i do. but only if you’re ready, too.”

you bit your lip, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. but as you thought about how minji had been bonding with baekhyun—her laughter during their tickle fights, the way she lit up every time he walked into the room—you realized he was right. she deserved to know.

“okay,” you whispered, your fingers reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. “let’s tell her.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his voice a gentle promise. “thank you. for letting me be here. for giving me this chance.”

the following day, during lunch, you sat minji down. the late afternoon sun poured into the kitchen, casting soft golden streaks across the table where you, baekhyun, and minji sat. the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup lingered in the air, a comfort meal chosen carefully for this important day.

minji swung her little legs under the chair, humming a tune in between bites, blissfully unaware of the weight of the moment looming.

you glanced at baekhyun, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his bowl—a nervous tell he couldn’t quite hide. catching your eye, he gave you a small nod. it was time.

“minji,” you began gently, setting your spoon down and leaning forward. her big eyes flicked up to you, still chewing, her cheeks puffed out like a little chipmunk.

“mommy and i want to talk to you about something important,” baekhyun added, his voice warm but tinged with a nervous edge.

minji blinked, tilting her head curiously. “what is it?”

you took a deep breath, reaching for her tiny hand across the table. “you know how you’ve been spending a lot of time with baekhyun lately? going to the park, playing games, having fun?”

she nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across her face. “yeah! he’s so fun! and he’s really good at hide-and-seek!”

baekhyun chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through his hair. “well, there’s a reason we’ve been spending so much time together, minji,” he said, his voice tender. “it’s because i’m your dad.”

the room went quiet for a moment as her little brain worked to process the words. her eyes flicked between you and baekhyun, her brow furrowing slightly. “my... dad?”

you squeezed her hand gently. “yes, sweetheart. baekhyun is your dad. he loves you very much and wants to be in your life, just like mommy is.”

minji’s lips pressed together in a thoughtful pout. then, she looked at baekhyun, her small voice filled with curiosity. “are you gonna stay forever?”

his breath hitched, and you could see the emotion pooling in his eyes. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to meet her at eye level. “yes, minji. i promise i’m not going anywhere. i want to be here for you, always.”

she studied him for a moment, then turned to you. “is that okay, mommy?”

your throat tightened at the question, the innocence of her trust nearly breaking you. you nodded quickly, brushing a hand through her soft hair. “of course, bun. it’s more than okay.”

a beat passed, and then her face lit up with a smile that could rival the sun. “so... does this mean i can call you daddy?”

baekhyun laughed, his voice shaky but filled with relief. “only if you want to, bunny.”

without hesitation, she slid off her chair and ran to him, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. “hi, daddy.”

baekhyun’s arms enveloped her instantly, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. his eyes met yours over her head, glistening with unshed tears and a gratitude too deep for words.

in that moment, you knew everything would be okay. your little family had found its way back together.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ omg k first of all, i’m so, so, sooooo sorry it took me forever to finish this fic 😭😭😭 i really wanted to try something new with this one. more angsty vibes, some slow-burn, and some juicy subplots to keep it interesting hehe :') instead of my usual "plot? what plot? oh wait, you mean porn" approach (which ofc the next like 4 fics are definitely giving that lmfao) ANYWAAAYYYY, i hope you enjoyed it!! <3 as always lmk ur thoughts <3 <3 (unless you hated it or thought it was mid...then pls...keep it to urself because i am a fragile lil bnuy n will cry 😭🤚🏼) k that's all bye love you guys!!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა 💖

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #x reader #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #baekhyun #lisawrites #dividers are by @anitalenia <3

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