Followup post to Slight Change of plans, where I explain the intricacies of tying together three different BTS x reader stories without using OCâs.
If you havent read my fanfic Soul Design yet and you like Taehyung, check it out! Otherwise this post wont make much sense.
If you are one of the wonderful people reading my story, hereâs a full guide on how itâs going to work:
Since I want to write every story from Y/nâs P.O.V, it could become confusing when Taehyung and Y/n become secondary characters in, for example, Jungkook x Y/nâs story.
To avoid having them refer to the same people, I have decided that each female protagonist gets another name when becoming a secondary character.
Which means, Jane and Lila would become Y/n in their own stories, while Cora will be the name given to the female character in Taehyungâs story.
That way the three stories can have three separate stories in the same universe without mixing up points of view, keeping the âx Readerâ going and all in the same universe.
Let me know what you think, whether it is confusing or not, if you think itâs a good idea or there could be better ones!
She owned the stage. He lived for the pitch. The world watched them perform but neither expected to find the one person who saw beyond the spotlight.
âFunny isnât it? We spent our lives performing for thousands of strangers⊠and somehow the scariest thing we ever did was be honest with each other.â
Hate sex is still sex. â part 12 | áŽáŽáŽÉŽ áŽáŽÉŽÉąáŽáŽáŽáŽ
You just got dumped. The one behind it? your boyfriendâs best friend Jungkook whoâs hated you from day one. You hate him. He hates you. One thingâs for sure: when hate turns into desire, it gets messy, it gets reckless⊠and yes, hate sex is still sex.
âŻâŻ pairing: Grumpy Jungkook x Mean girl reader
đ§·genre: enemies with benefits
đ§·Warnings: 18+ content, heavy angst, yearning, miscommunication, commitment issues, heavy, uncomfortable themes, uni au, use of y/n, (mdni)!!
đ§·wc: 14.5k
previous part >< m.list
âY/N? You seem quite disoriented.â
Disoriented?
No. Everything was exactly as it should be. Perfectly normal, really. There was absolutely nothing unsettling about the sight before you. Certainly not the tall, dark haired man standing across from your father with his hands clasped behind his back, gaze fixed dutifully on the floor like he hadnât spent the last hour turning your entire evening upside down.
ââIâm fine, dad.â you lied, shifting from one bare foot to the other on the cold marble, acutely aware that your louboutins were currently sitting on a curb three blocks away. âJust⊠the event stretched on for long.â
âI see.â your father murmured. He didnât look at your feet. Hyun was a man of macro management; he didnât focus on the missing shoes when there was a six-foot variable standing in his entryway wearing a wrinkled suit jacket.
Jungkook hadnât looked at you since he stepped out of the elevator. The terrifying boy from the corridor, the one who had wrapped his hand around Daeâs throat with enough guttural venom to stop your breath had vanished. In his place was the Jungkook the rest of the world thought they knew: quiet and content to linger at the edge of the room until someone gave him permission to speak.
âJungkook, was it?â Hyun asked, moving behind the long quartz island. âMy daughter tells me youâre a friend.â He didnât offer a hand â Hyun wasnât a hand-shaker with boys who dropped his daughter off after midnight, a stroke of cold elitism that offered you a sudden wave of relief. Had he extended his hand, he would have clasped Jungkookâs bloodied knuckles, shattering the fragile illusion of a âsafe ride homeâ instantly.
ââYes, sir,â Jungkook said, his voice rough around the edges from the cigarettes and the shouting.
Hyunâs analytical gaze, inevitable as a ticking clock, began to dip lower, tracing the line of Jungkookâs sleeve down toward his hands.â Before his gaze could land on the dark, angry streaks of dried blood, your internal filter disintegrated.
âYou lunged across the short distance between you and Jungkook, your fingers wrapping tightly around his right hand. Your grip was desperate, entirely burying his split knuckles against your palm. Jungkook stiffened at the sudden, burning contact, his fingers twitching in shock, but he didnât pull away.
ââDad!â you nearly yelped, the sheer desperation in your tone successfully dragging your fatherâs attention back up to your face, though his brows knitted together in instant confusion. He peered down at your tightly clasped hands, the sudden display of raw intimacy completely uncharacteristic of the daughter he thought he had raised.
ââEverything okay, pipsqueak?â Hyun asked slowly, slipping into the name heâd given you years ago. It had never really been about your size, but more of how you usually shrank into yourself when he was trying to figure out what kind of trouble you were hiding.
ââJungkook is⊠heâs never been up here before,â you rushed out as you tried to find a way to disappear from the kitchen lights. âAnd since heâs here anyway, I want to give him a house tour. Before it gets too late, of course.â
âA tour. At midnight,â your father noted, a dry tone cutting through his fatigue. âVery well. I suppose Iâll finish preparing the brisket while you show your friend around. Donât keep him long, pipsqueak. Itâs rude to starve a guest.â
âHe turned back toward the stove. You didnât wait for him to change his mind.
âWith your hand still clamping Jungkookâs bloodied knuckles against your side, you practically dragged him down the long, dimly lit eastern corridor of the penthouse. Your instincts steered you toward the closest door available, a door that remained perpetually closed.
âIt was your motherâs old bedroom.
âThe space was a preserved museum of everything bitter. She hadnât actually slept here much even before the divorce was finalized; she spent most of those final months staying at her partnerâs house â the very man she was currently married to.
âJungkook stumbled slightly as you yanked him inside, the heavy door closing behind you. Before he could even open his mouth to speak, you spotted a stray basket of forgotten cosmetic supplies on the vanity. Remembering she used to keep heavy-duty makeup remover and concealer there, you snatched it up.
âWithout giving him a single second to process, you dragged him straight into the attached marble bathroom, shutting that door too, trapping the two of you in the small, brightly lit space before a single word about tonight could escape.
ââGive me your hand,â you whispered, your voice running on pure adrenaline.
âJungkook let you take his right hand without a shred of resistance, his large, warm palm resting heavily over yours. Up close, his knuckles were a complete, split-open mess, swollen with dark streaks of dried blood cracking across the skin. Your stomach did a sickening flip.
âReaching into the dusty cosmetic basket on the counter, you grabbed a tube of liquid concealer. You didnât want your dad asking a single question about tonight, the corridor, or why your dress was ruined. If you could just cover it up â just paint over the bruises, you could pretend none of it happened.
âYou unscrewed the cap and went to dab the heavy cream directly onto the open tear in his skin. âJungkook sharply hissed through his teeth. His hand flinched, fingers twitching against your grip.
âYou froze. The damp beige cream looked horrible smeared against the raw, split flesh. A wave of profound shame hit you so fast it made you dizzy. What are you doing? This wasnât a smudge on a collar. He was actually hurt. The makeup was old, full of bacteria, and you were about to cram it into an open wound just to save yourself from a difficult conversation with your father.
ââSorry,â you whispered immediately. âIâm sorry. I⊠I wasnât thinking.â
âYou quickly turned on the faucet, guiding his hand under the stream of lukewarm water to wash the makeup away. You watched the water swirl pink down the drain, your fingers smoothing over the edges of his bruised skin.
âIf you put a bandage on this, Hyun would notice the white gauze on Jungkookâs right hand. He would ask questions, and you would be forced to face the reality of tonight; the reality that you had been cornered, that you were deeply, thoroughly humiliated by what Dae had tried to do to you.
âBut looking down at Jungkookâs hand, at the raw damage he had taken entirely for your sake, you realized you couldnât do it. You couldnât poison his skin just to keep your own secrets.
âYou set the concealer down, letting it roll across the marble, and reached for the clean roll of gauze instead.
âYour fingers were still trembling as you began to wrap the white fabric around his knuckles, but your grip lingered on his skin for long. The trauma of the corridor was still clawing at the back of your throat. You needed to deflect; needed to make this about him, not about what had almost happened to you.
ââArenât you going to say anything?â you asked, your voice cracking slightly as you tucked the edge of the gauze in. You looked up from his hand, finally forcing yourself to meet his eyes. âArenât you going to apologize to me?â
âJungkook was leaning the back of his head against the large vanity mirror, his eyes completely closed. His jaw was set, dark hair falling messy over his forehead. He looked utterly exhausted, but there wasnât a single hint of regret on his face.
ââFor what?â he murmured, deeply uninterested in the premise of the conversation.
ââFor breaking his phone. For nearly choking him to death and almost making a scene,â you rushed out, trying to build a wall between yourself and the memory. âYou shouldnât have done that, Jungkook. You didnât have to go that far. People are going to talk. My dad is going to see this bandage and heâs going to start digging, and I donât wantââ
âJungkookâs eyes snapped open. âThe unhinged look in his dark gaze silenced you instantly. He looked completely detached from the high-society rules you were so terrified of breaking.
âHe lifted his uninjured left hand and cupped the side of your face. His palm was warm and entirely too big against your cheek. You let out a soft, panicked breath, your heart hammering against your ribs as you looked up at him, trapped between his chest and the sink.
âSlowly, his thumb swiped across your bottom lip. It wasnât an excuse to clean away smudged lipstick; his thumb just lingered there, pressing gently against the soft skin, grounding your spiraling thoughts until you were forced to look at nothing but him. He was making sure you were still here, making sure you were safe.
ââIâm not apologizing, y/n.â he stated softly, though it sounded more like a terrifying promise. âYou can be mad at me all you want. You can tell your dad Iâm no good. But Iâm not apologizing for putting that moron on the floor.â
âHe leaned down slightly, his thumb pressing just a fraction deeper against your lip, his breath warm against your face. ââI would fucking do it again. If he comes near you, Iâll do worse next time.â
âYour breath hitched, a vulnerable heat blooming in your chest. The unbothered certainty in his voice left your mind entirely blank, cutting through all your defenses and leaving you to contemplate the terrifying reality that while the rest of your world cared about the fallout, Jungkook only cared that you were breathing.
âYou canât solve everything with your fists,â you whispered.
ââI know.â He murmured. It was so quick you almost convinced yourself youâd imagined it, but his eyes seemed to flick down to your lips.
âYou frowned, your fingers tightening slightly around his wrist. âDo you?â
âJungkook looked down at his hand, staring at the neat, white layers of gauze you had just wound over his split knuckles. ââNo,â he admitted, his voice dropping. âProbably not.â
âThe honesty knocked the wind out of you. It was a complete surrender of the bravado he had carried in the corridor, that stripped away the distance between you.
ââYou scared me,â you admitted, entirely undone by the quiet safety of the room.
âHis head snapped up, dark eyes instantly locking onto yours. ââWhen I hit him?â he asked softly.
âYou shook your head, the smudged mascara burning the corners of your eyes. âWhen you looked at him like you didnât care what happened to you after.â
âA soft shift took place in his expression, making the dangerous boy from the hallway vanish entirely. He leaned down just a fraction, the heat of his breath brushing your cheek. âây/nâŠâ
ââYou donât need to throw yourself into a fight because somebody upset me. I can handle myself.â you said, desperately scrambling to find your footing again.
ââI know you can.â He countered immediately.
You crossed your arms over your chest. ââDo you?â
ââI know you can,â he repeated softly, carrying a heavy weight this time, making your heart give a violent thud against your chest. He reached up again, his cool fingers brushing against your neck before his broad palm settled against your cheek, thumb pressing gently into the corner of your lip to anchor you. âI just donât think you should have to.â
âThe certainty in his tone left your mind blank, cutting straight through the last of your defenses. âWhat does that mean?â you somehow managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper against the quiet thrum of the house.
âJungkook straightened his spine slowly. He let his hands drop to his sidesâreluctantly, you hoped, as the uncharacteristic softness in his voice completely vanished, replaced by a coldness you knew all too well.
ââIt means,â he said, his dark eyes locking onto yours, pinning you to the spot, âI donât think you should have to waste a single ounce of your energy dealing with a pathetic, spineless bastard like Dae. Okay?â
A breathless, nervous sort of second passed between you. The protective weight of his words made your heart give a flutter, and in a desperate bid to lighten the suffocating gravity pulling you both under, you forced a faint, teasing smile to your lips.
ââRight,â you said with a tiny laugh. âIs that also the philosophy behind sabotaging my relationship with Minho?â
You were joking. It was supposed to be a dry quip to break the tension.âBut Jungkook didnât smile. He just stared down at you with a completely blank poker face, his dark eyes entirely hollow of any denial.
âYour stomach twisted. Before a single syllable of demand or panic could leave your mouth, Jungkook took a step backward, completely breaking the orbit between you. The fortress walls were instantly back up. He drifted miles away already.
âââWe should go back out,â Jungkook muttered, his voice devoid of the heat it had held just seconds ago. He turned his gaze toward the door. ââWe shouldnât keep your dad waiting.ââ
Youâd never liked riding in Minhoâs car.
It had nothing to do with the car itself. What you hated was the placement of it all. The back seat; being tucked away behind the front row and forced to stare at the backs of two heads that occupied the entire windshield. Youâd grown used to it over the months, ever since the inevitable yes had slipped from your mouth when Minho first asked you out. Somehow, without either of you discussing it, the passenger seat had always belonged to Jungkook.
Minho gripped the steering wheel tightly enough for his knuckles to pale, his shoulders drawn up to his ears with the kind of nervous spike that only surfaced when his parents were involved.
Jungkook, meanwhile, looked entirely unaffected. Slouched low in the passenger seat, his long legs crowded the footwell as he idly scrolled through his phone. Whatever Minho was saying barely seemed appealing to him. Every now and then, heâd hum in vague acknowledgement, thumb never pausing in its path across the display.
ââIâm serious, Kook,â Minho said, cutting through the quiet for what had to be the fifth time. His eyes darted to the rear-view mirror, catching yours for the briefest second before flicking back to the road. His words, however, werenât meant for you. âIf my mum sees one stray box lying around, sheâs going to lose her mind.â
Jungkook didnât look up from his phone, his thumb lazily scrolling. He cracked his neck, the sound loud in the quiet car. âWhen was the last time something like that happened?â
ââThatâs not the point,â Minho muttered. His voice adopted an eager, slightly elevated pitch he used whenever he was seeking a nod of agreement from the passenger seat. âYou remember what she was like with the last apartment. God, that place was a disaster.â
âFrom the back seat, you looked out the side window into the passing streetlights, letting out a quiet sigh.
âThis performance wasnât new to you. You had been the one to stay up until three in the morning just two nights ago, the phone pressed to your ear until it grew hot, listening to Minho ramble in a miserable, hyperventilating spiral about his old roommates. He had gone into exhaustive, agonizing detail about their irresponsibility â all the clutter, the used condoms left carelessly on the bathroom floor, and how absolutely degrading it was for him to live like that. That phone call was the entire reason for todayâs rushed move-in plan.
âYet, looking at the back of Minhoâs head now, you couldnât help but notice how carefully he left all those embarrassing details out of what he was feeding Jungkook.
âWith Jungkook, Minho didnât want to sound miserable or overwhelmed. He wanted to sound like a man under pressure, a high-achieving son dealing with demanding expectations. He wanted an ego boost, a simple 'Yeah man, I get it' from the guy sitting next to him.
âAnd then there was Jungkook. His presence on a frantic move-in day like this was, according to you, completely unnecessary. But of course, he was the best friend, the permanent shadow and nuisance, so there he sat. You watched him through the gap between the seats, highly doubting if he even cared about a single word coming out of Minhoâs mouth. He looked bored out of his mind, completely checked out, giving Minho just enough crumbs of attention to keep him talking.
âIt would have been funny if it wasnât so irritating. Minho was practically performing a monologue for an audience of one who wasnât even buying a ticket, all while completely ignoring the person in the back seat who had actually helped him pack the boxes.
ââThe old place was fine, Minho,â you said, your voice breaking through the front-row dynamic. âWe cleaned the whole kitchen before sheââ
ââItâs not just about it being clean,â Minho snapped. The softer, rather eager tone he used to entice Jungkook vanished instantly, replaced by a dismissive scoff he reserved entirely for you whenever you didnât perfectly align with his version of reality. He didnât look at you in the mirror this time. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the traffic ahead, flattening your words cold, making your chest tighten with a hot spike of resentment.
ââTheyâre coming all the way from the district,â Minho continued, looking back toward the passenger side. âI need everything to look settled. Presentable. Kook, you get what I mean, right? If the entryway is a mess, the whole evening is ruined.â
âJungkook slowly turned his phone over in his palm, the pale light of the screen dying out.
He leaned his head back against the headrest. ââDo you need me to talk to your mother?â Jungkook asked. âYou know, when she starts getting on your case about the kitchen layout again.â
âYou instantly rolled your eyes to the back of your head, irritation catching in your throat. He was ridiculous. He didnât care in the slightest about your boyfriendâs domestic crisis, and more importantly, he clearly had no idea that the ground had already been broken. You frankly didnât know if Minho just had rocks in his head, entirely unable to decipher the sheer, underlying disinterest dripping from Jungkookâs tone.
ââAh, man,â Minho breathed, his shoulders visibly dropping as a relieved smile broke across his face. He reached out, tapping Jungkookâs shoulder brightly. âSeriously? Thatâd be a massive help. I can always rely on you, Kook. Honestly, if you can just distract her for ten minutes while we bring up the last of the kitchen crates, it wonât be a complete disaster.â
âHe didnât mention you once. Not a single word about the fact that you had already spent forty minutes on the phone with his mother the previous day, soothing her anxiety about the move and coordinating the dinner timeline.
âYou wanted to cut Minhoâs performative little alliance down to size, but more than that, you wanted to wipe that lazy, unbothered look right off the passenger seat. It had been driving you mad lately â the frustrating realization that you hadnât caught Jungkook staring at you in the mirrors nearly as often as he used to. You wanted his eyes on you, even if you had to drag them over yourself.
âI already dealt with his mother, Jungkook,â you said dryly. âYesterday. The logistics are handled. No thanks to your sudden burst of charity.â
âMinhoâs eyes remained fixed on the ramp as he steered the car into the concrete underground garage. âYeah, but thatâs different, babe. Câmon, you know what I mean. My mum actually listens to Kook. Itâs just easier if he handles her when sheâs in one of her moods.â
âBabe. The patronizing label Minho threw at you whenever he wanted you to sit still and stop complicating his life. You went completely rigid against the leather, the casual dismissal turning the blood in your veins instantly hot.
âIn the front seat, the sudden friction in the car seemed to wake Jungkook up entirely. Of course. He slowly shifted in his seat, turning his torso just enough to glance over his shoulder toward the back. The stillness was back in his eyes, but this time, he was thoroughly amused. He had open ground now, and he wasnât about to waste it.
ââYeah, Babe,â Jungkook mocked you, the pet name rolling off his tongue in a way that completely stripped it of whatever innocent meaning Minho intended. It sounded entirely unhinged as his eyes locked onto yours in the dim light of the garage. âListen to your boyfriend. Leave the heavy lifting to the professionals.â
âThe sheer arrogance in his voice made your fingers curl into the fabric of your skirt, your patience hanging by a single, fraying thread. ââGo to hell, Jungkook,â you hissed.
âMinho slammed the car into park, the engine dying with a heavy thud that instantly dissolved the tension. He grabbed his keys, completely oblivious to the silent fire raging across the console. âAlright, weâre here. Letâs get the rest of these crates upstairs before they pull up.â
ââYouâve gone somewhere else, pipsqueak.â Hyun observed quietly. ââWant to come back for a second?â
âSnap.
âYour fatherâs voice broke through the silence, dragging you back into the suffocating reality of the kitchen island.
âYou blinked, your fork hovering a mere inch over your plate. The food was entirely cold now. You hadnât taken a single bite, your mind too occupied with the phantom heat of a garage from nearly a year ago and the very real, terrifying weight of what had happened just an hour ago in the corridor.
ââYes,â you lied quickly, pulling the sleeves of your oversized black hoodie further over your hands. âSorry. Iâm listening.â
âHyun set his knife down against the porcelain, his eyes narrowing as he evaluated your pale face and the untouched brisket. âYouâve barely touched your food. If youâre unwell, you should say so.â
For all of Hyunâs faults â the months spent on planes, the missed birthdays; he had been an exceptional cook. A skill born out of necessity from his own bachelor years. Whenever your mother had late nights at the firm, your father would loosen his tie, roll up his sleeves, and take over the kitchen. You used to pull up a heavy wooden stool just to watch him chop vegetables, occasionally letting you stir the pan or taste-test the sauce.
Whenever he wasnât looking, you would lean down and take a huge, dramatic whiff of the food directly from the pan; a habit he had spent years trying to gently smack out of you, constantly lecturing you that it was entirely indecent to sniff food like an animal before eating it. You loved his cooking. It was the one version of him that felt entirely present.
Across the wide marble of the kitchen island, the comfort felt entirely out of reach. Your eyes flicked over to Jungkook, who sat three stools down.
âHe was already looking back at you. His eyes were fixed on your face, tracking the slight tremor in your frame. But the moment your fatherâs gaze shifted toward him, Jungkookâs expression instantly locked back.
ââMy apologies, sir,â Jungkook cut in, drawing your fatherâs attention away from your empty plate. He casually shifted his arms on the counter, and that was when the pendant lights caught the thick white layers of gauze you had just wound around his split knuckles.
âYou looked at his hand, an instant wave of alarm washing over you.
âHyunâs sharp eyes tracked the white fabric. His brows knitted in a hard line.
âYou froze, your breath catching in your throat. Your mind scrambled, a cold panic spiking in your veins because you knew exactly what those raw knuckles meant. If your father started digging into how that happened, the entire fragile reality you were trying to maintain tonight would shatter.
ââHe caught it on the way back from the car,â you blurted out, an excuse tearing from your mouth before Jungkook could even part his lips. You forced your voice to sound dismissive as you looked directly at your father. âWe went down to get something I left in the passenger seat, and he was being careless with the heavy iron gate in the lower courtyard. It slipped and caught his knuckles against the brick.â
âJungkook kept his eyes on your father, giving a single nod that perfectly validated your lie. âA clumsy mistake, sir. I should have been paying closer attention to the weight of it.â
âHyun evaluated the two of you for a long, quiet moment. He was a man who prided himself on reading the hairline cracks in peopleâs stories, but the unbothered confidence in Jungkookâs posture didnât give him any room to press.
ââA hand injury is a tedious liability, regardless of what business youâre in,â Hyun noted as he picked up his glass. âYouâre lucky it didnât fracture the bone. See that youâre more careful.â
âAs the two of them resumed the conversation, drifting effortlessly back into a discussion, you could only sit there and stare at the side of Jungkookâs face.
âIt was entirely jarring. You had never seen him speak to an authoritative figure before, let alone your own father. There was no way this was the same man who possessed a natural knack for saying the most infuriatingly blunt words to you in the dead of night.
âMaybe snapping at Jungkook from a place of pure frustration had really manifested this nightmare for you. When did everything go from yelling at each other and ending up in bed the same breathless momentum, to screaming at him about how ridiculous it would be to ever meet each otherâs families, to accidentally speaking it into existence?
âThe utter absurdity of it all made the edges of your vision swim again. The deep, masculine drone of their voices began to blur into a static hum, the counter gleaming too brightly against your eyes. The kitchen slowly began to recede.
For the first half hour in Minhoâs freshly furnished apartment, you hadnât said a word.
You simply got to work; the thick cardboard edges of the packing crates scraping against your fingers as you sliced through tape and hauled books across the hardwood floor. Your shoulders already ached, a damp layer of sweat making your clothes cling to your skin in the humid summer night.
âMinho, meanwhile, was a whirlwind. He wasnât lifting the heavy things. Instead, he was floating around the living room, adjusting the alignment of the curtains, and checking his watch every ninety seconds. Every small noise from the hallway made him jump with the suffocating anxiety that came from awaiting the arrival of his parents.
âYou knelt by a massive box of kitchenware, carefully unwrapping bubble wrapped glasses and setting them on the lower shelf of the island.
ââNot there, y/n,â Minho walked over, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, and immediately picked up the glasses you had just set down. âMy mother hates low shelving for glassware. Put them in the upper pantry. And make sure the labels are facing the back.â
âYou swallowed the dry lump in your throat, fingers tightening around a piece of plastic wrap. âThe upper pantry is full of the serving dishes you wanted out, Minho.â
ââThen move the dishes,â he snapped, shaking his head. He didnât look at you, his fingers frantically rearranging the glasses on a higher shelf. âI told you, she checks these things. Sheâs going to open the cabinets the second she walks in to see if Iâm keeping the place presentable.â
From the corner of the room, near the entryway, Jungkook was slouched against the doorframe. âLet the professionals handle the heavy lifting,â the man had quoted with a lazy smirk back in the garage, and had lived up to the arrogance â carrying every last box up from the car himself without breaking a sweat. Cocky, you thought, shifting your weight. He just wanted to show off in front of your boyfriend, to prove he could.
ââRelax, man,â Jungkook murmured, his voice bouncing off the empty walls. He flicked the blade of the box cutter out, then retracted it. âYour mother isnât a health inspector.â
âMinhoâs entire posture softened instantly. He turned toward Jungkook, a self-deprecating smile replacing the harsh frown of his mouth. âI just need everything to look⊠seamless. Like Iâve got it all under control.â He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. âItâs exhausting keeping up with the family standards, honestly.â
âYou let out an internal sigh, silently arranging the tupperware exactly as he pleased. Minho was clearly stressed, and you were his girlfriend, which meant you had to play the comforting, understanding partner whenever he was unraveling. You knew how much this day meant to him â the frantic midnight phone call heâd kept you on for hours was proof enough.
âDusting your hands off on your skirt, you walked over to the stack of crates Jungkook had hauled up, reaching down to grab another stack of books. As you lifted the top heavy volume, your eyes caught an odd, dusty texture tucked between a set of thick journals.
âGrabbing the spine, you pulled it free and immediately felt your eyes roll to the back of your skull.
ââReally, Minho?â you flipped through a few of the print spreads, the loud thwap of the paper filling the empty kitchen before you looked up in pure disbelief. âA porn magazine? Are you kidding me?â
Minhoâs head whipped around so fast his neck practically cracked, the color instantly draining from his face only to be replaced by a violent red that flooded his ears. He dropped the microfiber cloth heâd been using to polish the counter.
ââY/n, put that down,â he hissed, his eyes immediately darting toward the entryway as if checking the perimeter.
âYou didnât lower your hands, a cynical spark of amusement rising in your chest. âOh, this is yours?â
ââI forgot it was in there,â he stammered, his hands coming up in a defensive, half baked gesture as his sneakers squeaked against the floor.
ââConvenient.â
ââIâm serious,â Minho rushed out. He took a step toward the island, his jaw tight. âIt got packed with everything from the old apartment. I didnât even check that box.â
âA quiet, rough snort fell through the defensive explanation from the direction of the doorway.
âJungkook had finally looked up from his phone, the screen dying out as he let his arms drop lazily against his sides. ââI was wondering when that was going to happen.â Jungkook snickered. One corner of his mouth was twitched upward, amusement lighting up his features as he took in the sudden breakdown of Minhoâs pristine domestic theater.
âMinho looked utterly horrified, his shoulders drawing up to his ears as he looked between the two of you. âYou knew.â
Jungkook only smirked. âDidnât think youâd invite your girlfriend to unpack it.â
âYouâre not helping at all, by the way.â Minho huffed, the flush taking over his entire frame with every excruciating second of the back-and-forth.
ââIâm trying to,â Jungkook replied smoothly, his thumbs looping into the front pockets of his trousers as he took a proper step into the kitchen.
ââHow?â Minho asked, frustrated.
âJungkook nodded toward the messy pages still held open in your hands, his dark eyes skipping past Minho entirely to lock onto yours. There lingered an almost private sort of provocation.
ââIâm hoping if we all stand here long enough, y/nâll stop finding the rest of your secrets,â he said.
âYou bit back a laugh, finding the back-and-forth oddly amusing. It cut right through the lingering irritation in your veins. You shifted your grip on the magazine, tilting it toward the light. âRest?â
ââKook,â Minho warned, his voice cracking slightly as his hands balled into tight fists at his sides.
ââWhat?â Jungkook shrugged, entirely unbothered by the warning, a cocky smirk fully spreading across his lips now as he watched Minho fidget. âYouâre the one sweating.â
ââBecause you two are insufferable,â Minho muttered, turning away to hide the deep flush still burning along his jawline.
ââHeâs got a point,â you admitted, intentionally turning another heavy page just to hear the paper crinkle in the quiet room. It felt good to hold a shred of leverage, even something as ridiculous as this. âThis is tragic.â
âMinho didnât answer; he lunged forward with a clumsy burst of speed, his fingers catching the edge of the publication and snatching it cleanly from your hand. His jaw was set into a rigid line as he spun on his heel, shoving the print deep into the bottom of a black garbage bag resting by the counter, burying it beneath a mountain of discarded packing tape.
âMinho stood over the counter, his chest heaving with short, agitated breaths as he stared down at the marble. The embarrassment had fully soured. His ego had just taken a massive, public hit in front of the one person he desperately wanted to appear cool for, and because he couldnât push back against Jungkookâs weight, his eyes snapped directly back to you.
âHe didnât look at your face. Instead, his gaze moved down your body, scanning your frame from head to toe with calculation critical enough to pull the floor right out from under you.
ââY/n,â he said, his voice hoarse. âAre you seriously planning on keeping that on for dinner?â
The sudden shift in his tone turned you entirely frozen by the counter, your hands still half raised from where the magazine had just been wrenched from your fingers.
ââWhat do you mean by that?â you asked, your voice dropping into a defensive pitch as you looked down at yourself. âIt was a simple jersey dress; practical enough for a day spent carrying heavy boxes. It didnât look entirely unkempt.
âMinhoâs eyes flicked over your shoulder, catching the silhouette of Jungkook still leaning against the doorframe. You could see the exact micro second the realization that he was still trapped in the spotlight hit him. His ears burned from the magazine embarrassment, and he desperately did not want to look like an overbearing prick in front of his best friend.
âThe rigidity vanished from his face, replaced instantly by softness. He let out a weary sigh and stepped into your space, his hands coming up to gently rest on your waist. Minho was a masterclass in gentle persuasion.
ââHey, look at me. Babe, come on,â he murmured, his voice dropping into an earnest whisper that always made you feel like you were the one being unreasonable. He leaned down slightly, searching your eyes with a look of intense, doting concern. âI donât mean it like that. You look beautiful. You always do.â
âThe sudden shift in his tone turned the remaining amusement in the kitchen to instant ice.
ââYou know what my mother is like,â he continued, âSheâs traditional. Sheâs going to spend the whole night making passive aggressive comments about anything she can find, and I just⊠I donât want her looking at your collarbone or judging you before we even sit down. Iâm just trying to protect you from her. I want tonight to go perfectly for us. Can you do that for me?â
âMinhoâs gentle words wrapped around you into a seemingly odd cage, entirely designed to make any anger you felt look childish. If you fought him now, you were the one ruining the perfect evening he was trying to build for the two of you.
âBefore you could even parse through the suffocating weight of the trap, Minho leaned in. âHe pressed his lips to yours. A lingering kiss; ending the discussion before you could speak. His mouth tasted faintly of the stale coffee from earlier, pressing against yours until you felt completely managed.
âHe pulled back with a soft, reassuring smile, patting your hip lightly as he stepped past you. âGo inside and change into that high-neck blouse I bought you last month, okay? Theyâll be here soon.â
âHe grabbed a stack of clean placemats from the counter and walked briskly out toward the dining room, completely satisfied with himself.
âYou stood entirely rigid by the counter, the place where his hands had just touched your waist feeling invasive. Your skin was crawling with a pure, spiteful resentment. He had just boxed you in, stripped away your choice, and smiled while he did it.
âAnd from the entryway, the mocking amusement was entirely gone from Jungkookâs features. His eyes tracked the furious, volatile rise and fall of your chest. He had seen the whole thing. He had watched you submit to the collar Minho just put on you.
âWithout giving him a single glance, you spun on your heel and stormed out of the kitchen, your shoulder nearly clipping his chest as you tore down the narrow corridor toward the guest bathroom, your hands shaking with a reckless, untamable rage.
âââsheâs always been stubborn about it.â
âYour fatherâs voice, far more relaxed than you were used to, pulled you cleanly back into the present. You blinked, the bright pendant lights hitting your eyes. Dinner was over. The plates had been cleared, and a bottle of vintage Scotch now sat between your father and Jungkook, two heavy crystal glasses resting on the dark marble.
âYou hadnât even realized time had passed. You were still buried in the heavy black hoodie, your fingers tightly laced together under the counter.
âHyun wasnât just tolerating Jungkook anymore. He was actively talking.
ââShe inherited that from her grandfather,â Hyun continued, gesturing vaguely with his glass toward the far wall of the open living space. âOnce her mind is set on a particular grievance, thereâs no negotiating. Itâs an expensive trait to maintain.â
âJungkook let out a genuine chuckle, his shoulders fully relaxed against the barstool. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his dark eyes catching the light. âIâve noticed, sir. She doesnât exactly make concessions easy.â
ââConcessions?â Hyun huffed, a rare, dryly humorous tilt to his mouth. âShe doesnât make them at all.â
âYou stared at the two of them in absolute, tight-lipped disbelief. You had spent years watching your father treat every single person who entered his orbit into a mere sub contractor who hadnât met their deadline. Yet here he was, actually bonding with Jungkook over your apparent flaws.
âHyun stood up, setting his glass down, gesturing for Jungkook to follow him toward the long hallway leading to his private study. âCome here. Iâll show you what I mean. I have the archive from her early tournament years.â
âYour heart did a horrified plunge against your ribs. âDad, no. Donât do that.â
âYour father didnât even look back at you, completely dismissing your protest with a brief wave of his hand. âDonât be dramatic, my dear. Itâs just the standard prints.â
âHung along the wood paneled wall of the wide corridor were the framed photographs from your pageant days; the perfectly rigid past â and arguably present your mother had constructed for you before she walked out. In the photos, you looked entirely unlike yourself: hair sculpted into blindingly perfect curls, a frozen smile plastered across your face, and a heavy, beaded gown that nearly swallowed you whole. You absolutely despised those photos. They were a monument to a time when you had zero say in your own skin.
âJungkook stepped up to the wall, hands casually tucked into his pockets. He leaned in slightly as his eyes scanned the row of frames.
âYou watched him from the edge of the kitchen, pulse hammering in your ears, daring him to drop a devastatingly cocky comment about how ridiculous you looked in a tiara. But he didnât.
At first, a passing thought crossed your mind that maybe, just maybe, Jungkook was actually intimidated by your father. It would have been a reasonable assumption for any normal guy, except Jungkook wasnât normal, and he had already spent the last twenty minutes completely, effortlessly engaging in conversation with Hyun before you had drifted off into your own head. He wasnât afraid at all. He was playing the game.
âIn fact, your father had even gone as far as subtly dropping Minhoâs name directly into the conversation. It was a clear attempt to fish for information, considering you hadnât spoken a single word about Minho since the disastrous day you first introduced him to your family.
âA handsome face, sure.â Hyun had remarked, swiveling his wine glass. âBut itâs a shame the boy possessed the backbone of a jellyfish. A man who folds the second the wind changes direction isnât much of a man at all.â
âHearing your father subtly insult Minho right at the dinner table had sent a spike of adrenaline through you. But when you glanced over at Jungkook, your heart nearly skipped a beat. âThe absolute, infuriating bastard had been trying not to laugh. So much for them being best friends.
âShe won the district title three years in a row,â Hyun said, adjusting the alignment of one of the photo frames by a fraction of an inch. âAn expensive undertaking. But the moment her motherâs... influence was removed from the household, y/n refused to participate further. The trophies are still in the shipping crates downstairs. A massive waste of development.â
Jungkookâs hands stayed buried in his pockets, eyes drifting across the prints on the wall. But he wasnât really looking at them. Every few seconds his gaze flicked back to you, catching the way you were staring straight through the floor like the marble might swallow you whole.
He needed to pull you back.
âHer postureâs a little crooked in this one,â Jungkook noted suddenly, his voice cornering your fatherâs formality. âLeaning back on her heels like sheâs trying to spite the dress, or the camera. Probably both.â
Your head snapped up, the numb fog in your mind cracking instantly. âSeriously?â you glared at the side of his face, heat rushing into your cheeks.
Jungkook gave a small, lazy shrug, eyes sliding to meet yours. Hyun paused, turning to look at Jungkook with a flicker of genuine surprise. âYou noticed that?â
âMy sister did the junior circuit for a while,â Jungkook said, completely brushing past the detail as if it were a minor annoyance from a past life. He didnât expand on it, his eyes already cutting back to yours, holding your glare with a knowing look. âYou learn to spot when someoneâs actively trying to ruin the shot.â
Hyun let out a dry scoff, the closest thing to a laugh youâd heard from him in months. The distraction worked. Your father latched onto the new thread, launching back into his monologue about that particular competition.
You stood there with your arms crossed tight over your hoodie, listening to them talk about you like you werenât in the room. Jungkook had done it on purpose. You knew that. He didnât give a shit about your posture in some old photo; he just hadnât wanted you drowning in your own head.
âExactly,â your father said, completely caught up in the memory. âThe instructor spent an hour trying to correct her spine before the judges arrived. She intentionally threw off the balance because she didnât want to stand there. A petty, stubborn rebellion. She has always handled opposition that way... by turning inward and refusing to cooperate.â
You stood rigid the entire time, listening to your father go on and on about your teenage defiance.
âStubborn, perhaps. But it makes her rigid,â Hyun continued, even as he stepped away from the frames. âIn all the years weâve lived in this district, through her entire schooling, she has never once brought anyone from her circle over to this house. Not one.â
Hyun turned his full attention back to Jungkook, his sharp eyes evaluating the younger manâs unyielding frame with a look bordering on respect. âYouâre the first person to make it through that front door, Jungkook,â your father said, his tone dropping. âI was beginning to think sheâd built a fortress around herself.â
He paused, the silver face of his watch catching the light as he dropped his arm. âThough it may be unfair on my behalf to say so, considering I spent months away. But distance doesnât change the diagnosis. I know how my daughter operates.â
Hyun turned, stepping away from the frames and closing the small distance between you. He reached out, his hand coming down to briefly ruffle the top of your hair; a habitual gesture left over from years that felt entirely out of place against the heavy weight in your chest.
You ducked your head away from his touch, rolling your eyes as you stepped back. âAre you two done? Because Jungkook has a curfew, Iâm sure.â
You shot a hard, pointed glare at Jungkook, silently warning him to play along and get out. But when had he ever actually listened to you?
Of course, he only shifted his weight, his eyes tracking your expression with a lazy stillness that told you exactly how little he cared about your warning.
Hyun looked between the two of you, his brow twitching slightly. âIs that right, Jungkook? Well, it doesnât seem particularly wise to let your friend drive home in a downpour like this. Especially with that hand.â
âWhat downpour, dad?â you nearly exclaimed, your voice honed with irritation.
Had it rained? You hadnât heard a thing.
You turned your head toward the end of the corridor, your eyes fixing on the heavy slate blinds covering the windows. It was only then that you noticed the dull smacking against the glass, sheets of water blurring the city lights outside. You had been so thoroughly zoned out, so deeply buried in the dark hallway of your own head, that youâd completely missed a thunderstorm rolling in.
Jungkook glanced toward the glass, then down at his bruised knuckles. âIâll take my leave once the roads clear a bit.â
âSensible,â Hyun nodded, already turning back toward the kitchen to set his crystal glass down. âStay until the storm settles. y/n, make sure he has what he needs.â
Your fatherâs footsteps faded into the kitchen, the clink of glass against the stone countertop echoing down the hall. You stayed frozen by the blinds. The suffocating drum of the rain against the glass grew louder and louder until it wasnât hitting the windowpane anymore; it was echoing off the bare, unpainted drywall of a guest room.
You stepped into the narrow utility closet off the hall to grab the extra roll of packing tape Minho had begged for, your chest heaving, only to freeze in place.
âDid you need something?â
Jungkook didnât have to look up from the floor. He was dropped down on one knee in the cramped space, his large frame completely occupying the gap between the hot water tank and the wall.
The utility closet smelled of the wind heâd brought in from outside. The space was so tight that if you took one more step, your knees would brush the denim fabric of his jacket.
âI need the tape,â you muttered, reaching toward the metal shelf above his head, intentionally keeping your eyes fixed on the cardboard boxes to avoid looking at him.
As you stretched, the stiff lace collar dug sharply into your throat, the high neckline pinching across your shoulders and cutting your reach short. You choked back a frustrated sigh, fingers falling just short of the plastic ring.
Before you could try again, Jungkook stood up; reaching past you, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder, and grabbed the tape with ease. His arm lingered there, forcing you to take it directly from his hand.
âHere,â he said, voice lazy, eyes doing a slow sweep over you. âDidnât think youâd be back out here so fast.â
You snatched the tape from his fingers. âWeâre all on Minhoâs schedule.â
âSure,â Jungkook murmured casually. He leaned his shoulder against the metal shelving, arms crossing over his chest as he looked at you. His gaze lingered pointedly on the rigid, high lace collar biting into your neck. An incredibly annoying trace of amusement touched his lips. âYou actually did it.â
âWhat?â you snapped, scrunching your brows in confusion.
âChange,â Jungkook murmured, his lazy drawl bouncing off the narrow walls. He tossed the tape lightly toward his hand. âInto whatever the hell this is.â
You felt heat crawl up your neck. âItâs a high-neck blouse, Jungkook. People wear them.â
He tilted his head slightly, a sort of smirk tugging at his mouth. âRight. Minho pick that out for you?â
â...Yeah, actually. My boyfriend did.â You added, just in case heâd forgotten.
Jungkook pursed his lips, his dark eyes dropping right back to the tight lace digging into your skin.
âDoes your boyfriend usually pick clothes you canât breathe in?â he leaned his shoulder against the metal shelf, his head tilting just enough to force you to look at him. His smirk was faint but impossibly cocky, entirely unbothered by the boundary he was crossing.
âDo you mind?â You sighed, your chest rising against the restrictive fabric.
âItâs just a question.â He shrugged.
âAnd itâs a stupid question, Jungkook. Iâm not suffocating.â
âYeah, sure you arenât,â he teased, his voice an entirely unconvinced murmur.
You rolled your eyes, adjusting the tape against your hip. âWhat is your problemââ
Something brushed the back of your neck. You barely registered his hand before you felt the tiny zipper at your collar shift. A soft zzip; the lace loosening just enough.
The relief was instantaneous and completely involuntary. Your lungs expanded on their own, a heavy gasp of air rushing down your throat as the suffocating pressure against your trachea vanished. But the physical relief lasted for less than a second before the horror of what heâd just done caught up to you.
Your entire body went rigid. You had literally heaved a sigh of relief right in front of him, proving his point and losing the argument in the most embarrassing way possible.
You shoved his hand away, clutching the loosened fabric at your throat as your face burned with a mix of fury and pure humiliation. âWhat the fuck, Jungkook?â
âHm?â One side of his mouth lifted.
âYou unzipped me.â You hissed, attempting to hold the fabric closed. You were practically vibrating with rage, your chest heaving with the very air heâd just forced you to take. âDo you make a habit of unzipping all your best friendâs girlfriendâs in a utility closet, or am I just special?â
Jungkookâs dark eyes took in the furious flush on your cheeks with a terrifying amount of calm. âDonât know,â he murmured, lazy. âDo you usually lie through your teeth for a guy who treats you like a mannequin?â
Your jaw clicked. âNo.â You shook your head once, the loosened lace of your collar shifting against your neck. âAnd you donât get to do that.â
âDo what?â He countered.
âPretend you know my relationship better than I do. Pretend youâre some kind of saint standing here judging him.â You drew in a breath. âMinhoâs just looking out for me. Heâs stressed. His parents are coming over, he wants everything to go smoothly, and heâs trying to make a good impression.â You folded your arms tighter across yourself. âHeâs being protective.â
Jungkook let out a quiet scoff; a tiny, quite abrasive sound that cut right through your patience. âThis isnât your cue to play hero and twist everything into something itâs not.â You jabbed a finger directly into the hard center of his chest, the denim of his jacket rough against your skin. âMinho trails after you, he looks up to you, and you stand here trashing him the second his back is turned? Heâs your fucking best friend, Jungkook.â
Jungkook stood a tall, unyielding wall of denim muscle. âHe is.â
âSo why did you just unzip your best friendâs girlfriend?â Your bold accusation cut through his arrogant tone.
âSo my best friendâs lovely girlfriend can actually breathe,â Jungkook murmured, his voice dropping. He didnât even lean away from your finger. Instead, he reached up, his large hand moving as his fingers brushed the edge of your jaw, intending to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
You slapped his hand away with a sharp smack, your heart hammering against your ribs. âDonât touch me.â
Jungkook didnât even flinch at the rejection. He just let his hand drop back to his side, his mouth twisting into an incredibly annoying smirk. âYouâre real quick to fight me on it. Wonder why you didnât have that same energy when he was telling you what to wear.â
âBecause itâs none of your business!â you hissed, the walls of the closet feeling smaller by the second. âYour little crush on me is cute and everything, Jungkook. Truly. Itâs flattering. But itâs getting pathetic.â
A flicker of something crossed Jungkookâs face. He looked faintly puzzled by where your mind had gone. âYou really think this is about my crush?â
His eyes dropped to the handful of lace you still had balled tightly in your fist before drifting back to your face. âIâve been standing here listening to you defend a blouse.â He tilted his head. âYou hate the damn thing.â
Your mouth opened slightly, any sound you had ready dying right in your throat. You looked up at him, your fingers still white-knuckled around the unzipped fabric at your neck, and found absolutely nothing to say.
âI...â You swallowed hard, your voice cracking slightly. âI donât hate it. Itâs fine. Itâs what his parents expect, and Iâm just trying to beââ
âRigid?â Jungkook supplied smoothly, his dark eyes tracking the frantic movement of your gaze.
You frowned. âRespectful.â
Jungkook looked at you for a second. âThen zip it back up.â
âWhat?â
âIf you donât hate it, and youâre just being respectful, pull the zipper back up. Put the collar back on.â There was nothing amusing in Jungkookâs tone.
Your fingers froze around the loosened fabric of your collar. The narrow closet felt entirely devoid of air. Jungkookâs gaze dropped to your trembling hand before lifting back to your face. â...Thatâs what I thought.â
A fierce defense climbed your neck. âYou donât know what youâre talking about.â
âDonât I?â He challenged.
âNo.â You stared at him, your breath hitching.
âYou know what I canât seem to figure out?â Jungkook murmured, leaning his weight back against the shelving, his eyes never leaving yours. You said nothing, but your chest heaved under his scrutiny. âYou were uncomfortable.â There was a heavy trace of confusion shimmering in his eyes. âSo why were you trying so hard to convince me you werenât?â
âBecause not everything revolves around what you think.â You laughed, brittle. âForget it. Iâm done having this conversation.â
âRight.â Jungkook stepped aside just enough to let you past. âWouldnât want your boyfriend getting the wrong idea.â
You brushed past him without looking up. âYou really canât stand seeing me with him, can you?â
You expected him to scoff. Instead, there was only the low hum of the air conditioning.
âNo,â Jungkook said flatly.
The utter lack of hesitation made your fingers freeze on the knob. You slowly turned your head, looking back over your shoulder. His expression was deadpan, and terrifyingly honest.
âI canât.â he admitted, his eyes locking onto yours with a selfish clarity. âIt annoys the hell out of me, if iâm being honest. Watching you shrink yourself down to fit into his pocket.â
A wave of pure disgust rushed through you; disgust at him, but mostly disgust at the suffocating web of your own guilt. Minho was out there in the living room, stressing over his parents, completely oblivious that the guy he called a brother was standing in a closet tearing his relationship apart.
âYou are a truly shitty friend, Jungkook,â you hissed, your voice trembling with rage. âHe trusts you. He thinks you have his back.â
Jungkook didnât look ashamed, and he didnât look remorseful. âI never claimed to be a good friend. And iâm not the one wearing a uniform to please a man I secretly despise.â he murmured.
You stared at him, a profound heaviness settling into your chest. You werenât going to leave Minho. You couldnât. You owed him too much, and the crushing weight of what you and Jungkook had done a month ago meant you were trapped in this penance forever. You had to stay, you had to be the perfect girlfriend, because it was the only way to balance the ledger.
âIt doesnât matter what you think anyway,â you said softly, turning back to the door. âIâm staying with him. Youâre just going to have to get used to looking at me like this.â
You yanked the closet door open, ready to step back into the bright light of the hallway.
âWeâll see,â Jungkookâs entirely calm voice almost startled you.
You paused, half turned in the doorway. âWhat is that supposed to mean?â
Jungkook finally straightened up from the shelf, his tall frame stepping into the shadows of the closet.
âJust means people get tired of suffocating eventually, y/n,â he murmured, his eyes lingering on the loosened white lace at your throat one last time. âAnd relationships are fragile. Things break all the time. Sometimes sooner than you think.â
You didnât answer him, wrenching the door open, fleeing the cramped utility closet and the terrifying, prophetic weight of his words, desperate to find Minho and force yourself back into the safety of your cage.
But things had broken. Exactly like he said they would.
A violent crack of thunder shattered the memory, tearing you out of the damp heat of Minhoâs old apartment and dropping you right back.
You blinked against the white tile of your bathroom. Your fingers were wrapped around Jungkookâs thick wrist, your thumb resting right against his pulse point as you carefully smoothed down the edge of the medical tape over his bruised knuckles. You had completely frozen, your mind miles away.
âYouâve disappeared into your head again.â
Jungkookâs deep voice replaced the static of your head, entirely devoid of the sharpness it used to carry back then. He didnât pull his hand away from your grip.
You dropped your gaze, deliberately focusing on his hand to avoid his stare, and forced a brittle chuckle. âDoesnât look like itâs going to stop raining anytime soon.â
âYeah,â Jungkook murmured. He looked over his shoulder toward the small bathroom window, the dark glass sheeted in water. âProbably should get moving soon before the roads flood.â
You clipped the edge of the bandage into place. âWhy? Need to get home to your girlfriend?â
Jungkook let out a low scoff. He leaned his head back against the mirror, his mouth twisting into a faint, lazy trace of his old smirk. âDonât have one of those, sweetheart. But nice try.â
âShame,â you teased, desperate to keep the safe, familiar boundaries of your usual banter up like a shield. âI guess youâll just have to brave the storm then. Unless you want to stay the night?â You threw it out as a total joke, a ridiculous hypothetical just to prove you werenât affected by him leaning against your sink.
âIâm sure your dad would love it if I stayed the night.â Jungkook teased back.
You instantly stiffened. The teasing air in the room evaporated, your fingers freezing against his wrist. You looked up, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied his face. âLook, I know tonightâs dinner was very unexpected,â you said, shielding the vulnerability heâd just poked at. âAnd my dad must have intimidated you a lot, but heâs not as rough as he may seem.â
Jungkook gave you a shrug. âGuess not. Considering he didnât resort to beating the guy who kept his precious daughter out past midnight, Iâd say heâs a real saint.â
You rolled your eyes, a small, exasperated sort of laugh escaping you at his sarcasm. âI never thought heâd get along with you. Of all people. He looked like he actually tolerated you. Shocker of the night, honestly.â You shook your head, moving to clean up the stray pieces of medical tape, but the mention of family made another piece of information slide into place. âBy the way... I didnât know your sister did the junior circuit? Do I know her?â
Jungkookâs posture went just a fraction more guarded. He kept it completely vague, shrugging again. âDoubt it. It was years ago. She stopped playing a long time ago.â
He didnât offer a name. He didnât offer a single detail, shutting the door on the topic before you could even peer inside.
Your fingers lingered on the edge of the counter, your eyes drifting up his arm, over the broad expanse of his shoulders, and finally settling on his face.
Looking at him right now, a thought hit you with a terrifying amount of clarity: there truly were a lot of things you didnât know about him. He had spent months breaking open your walls, reading you like an open book, knowing exactly when you were suffocating and when you were lying, yet he remained a complete black box. Oh, how many questions you had for him. Questions about his family, about the hidden corners of his life, and about every single piece of himself that he meticulously kept away from you.
But there was one question that was currently eating you alive, burning through your veins until you couldnât breathe.
âJungkook,â you called softly.
He paused, the lazy look instantly melting off his face when he heard the raw tremble in your tone. âYeah?â
âDo you remember that day?â You stepped back just an inch, though your eyes never left his. âAlmost a year ago. When Minho moved into his new apartment, and we were in that utility closet because he wanted the packing tape?â
Jungkookâs brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing as he searched your face. âY/n, what are youââ
âYou told me relationships are fragile,â you pressed on, your heart hammering frantically. âYou told me things break all the time. Sometimes sooner than I think.â You drew in a painful breath. âDid you really have intent behind those words? Did you mean them?â
The silence in the bathroom became absolute, sealing the pounding of the rain against the glass.
âAre you the real reason why Minho broke up with me?â
You finally said it. You asked the question that had lived in the dark spaces of your mind for ages. In your gut, the answer was already a vague, haunting yes. Part of you had spent months believing he had been the shadow behind the collapse of your relationship. But you didnât know why. Why did he dislike Minho so intensely? Why did he hate seeing you with him so much that he would destroy his own best friendâs happiness just to tear you out of his arms? Was it purely selfish? Was it resentment? You needed him to give you the truth.
A quiet, humorless laugh slipped from him instead. âYouâll hate whatever answer I give you.â
âI already do.â You tried to level with him, even though neither of you moved.
You could hear the shallow pattern of your own breathing as you waited for him to deny it, to mock you, to do anything other than look at you with unblinking clarity.
âI wasnât going to let him keep you,â Jungkook murmured eventually.
A confused breath caught in your throat. âIs that your answer?â you whispered.
âItâs the only part youâre ready to hear.â he concluded.
You stared at him, your hands tightening against the edge of the counter. It was a confession that he had consciously chosen to let your relationship burn to the ground. But before you could press him for the rest of the truth, before you could demand to know what else you werenât âready to hear,â the shifting energy in the room caught up to him.
Jungkookâs eyes dropped to your hands, tracking the slight, involuntary tremor in your fingers. There formed a frustrated line between his brows.
He wasnât thinking about Minho anymore. He was looking at your wide, haunted eyes, and his mind dragged the conversation right back to the present. He thought the trauma of tonight was finally catching up to you, making you spiral back into the past because you felt unsafe.
âHey,â Jungkook murmured cautiously, though a firm knock on the bedroom door cut him off entirely.
The sound made both of you snap your heads toward the door.
âY/n?â your fatherâs deep, muffled voice carried through the space. âEverything alright in there? Stormâs picking up. Iâm putting a pot of coffee on.â
The spell was instantly broken. The suffocating secrets of the past were jammed right back into the quiet as the reality of the present reasserted itself.
You let out a quiet, shaky sigh, your eyes locking onto Jungkookâs face one last time. His large hands slowly dropped back to his sides as he gave you space.
You looked away, unable to hold his gaze, and focused on gathering up the leftover medical supplies on the counter.
âYou can wait in my bedroom,â you whispered to him, gesturing toward the adjoining door that led out of the bathroom. âIâm going to go see what he needs.â
Jungkook gave you a silent nod, stepping back to let you pass. You turned the handle and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the bathroom door shut behind you and cutting off the heavy tension that had been keeping you warm.
You walked down the silent corridor toward your fatherâs room, the hardwood floors cold beneath your bare feet. The door was cracked open, a sliver of light ambering the floorboards.
Pushing it open a little further, you found him. He was sitting in his armchair by the window, a steaming ceramic mug cradled in his hands as he looked out at the sheets of rain lashing against the glass. He looked calm, entirely removed from the storm raging both outside and inside your head, just a quiet man with his coffee, waiting to see if his daughter was finally safe.
Hyun turned his head as you stepped inside, his eyes immediately sweeping over you. âAre you alright? Cold?â
âIâm okay, Dad,â you murmured, stepping closer to the edge of his desk. âJust tired.â
âLinaâs mother called the house line about twenty minutes ago,â Hyun said, his gaze fixed on you as he took a slow sip. âShe wanted to confirm whether youâd actually made it home safely. Apparently, Lina left the venue early and was panicking because she knew youâd had too much to drink, and you werenât picking up your cell.â He paused, studying your face. âShe said the two of you didnât leave things on good terms tonight.â
A humorless scoff escaped your lips, your chest tightening with a sudden spike of residual anger. Just the mention of Linaâs name made the bitter taste of the earlier argument flash in the back of your throat. You were thoroughly mad, still entirely unwilling to unpack all the mess.
âYeah,â you muttered, rolling your eyes toward the dark window as you crossed your arms. âIâll deal with Lina later.â
Hyun set his mug down. âHowâs Jungkook?â
âHeâs okay. I was just checking his bandages, making sure the wrap on his wrist was decent.â
Hyun nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back to the window, watching the water sheet across the glass. âItâs really coming down out there. Roads are going to be a mess.â He paused. âYou should tell him to really watch that hand. A young man like him canât afford to get an injury like that infected. The bones and tendons are fragile. They donât always heal back right if you neglect them.â
You nodded vaguely, mind thoroughly exhausted by the emotional whiplash of the night that you were barely processing the conversation. You just wanted to agree and escape back to the safety of your room.
Hyun watched you for a second, his casual tone nearly testing the waters. âDo you remember when I broke my wrist years ago? Back during that work mishap at the construction site?â
âYeah,â you murmured blankly, your eyes staring at the floorboards.
Hyunâs gaze sharpened, pinning you to the spot. He noticed the total lack of a reaction. Usually, whenever he so much as breathed a word about his fractured wrist or that supposed âaccident,â you would visibly stiffen. You would shake, and you would completely shut down. Because it hadnât been a work mishap at all. You had unfortunately been there. You had witnessed the raw violence firsthand â watching your father entirely lose his composure, tracking down the man your mother had been sleeping with and brutally punching him into the pavement.
The fact that you had just blindly agreed to his lie without flinching told the wise man everything he needed to know. You were completely zoned out. Your mind was miles away, entirely consumed by something else.
âIt wasnât a work mishap, y/n,â Hyun said firmly, finally snapping you out of your haze. âYou saw what happened back then. You know exactly how I broke my hand.â
Your stomach dropped. Your eyes flew up to meet his, a cold sweat breaking out down your spine. Hyun leaned back in his chair, incredibly observant. âI know it wasnât a mistake with Jungkook tonight, either.â
You swallowed hard, your tongue feeling like sandpaper.
Hyun had talked to Jungkook at dinner. He had found the boy polite and entirely composed. but Hyun knew exactly what a hand looked like when it was used as a weapon. He had recognized those specific, jagged bruises on Jungkookâs knuckles the second he walked into the house. He knew it wasnât a clumsy mishap. He was leaving the floor open for you to explain what was really going on.
He waited, but you said nothing. You stood there, your lips pressed into a defensive pout, staring down at the floorboards as the quiet stretched out between you. Knowing his daughter, knowing she wouldnât explain a word of anything, Hyun sighed.
âItâs never an accident with boys like that,â Hyun stated firmly. He set his coffee mug down on the side table with a hollow thud. âMen who use their fists to solve their problems, theyâre volatile, y/n. Theyâre dangerous to be around, and theyâre even more dangerous to care about. I know. Because I used to be one.â
You wrapped your arms tightly across your chest, a wave of irritation storming inside. You couldnât stand the implication. Hyun spoke with conviction, but it clashed with every version of Jungkook your mind could summon. He had plenty of flaws, but being carelessly violent had never been one of them.
âHe isnât like that. He isnât like you.â you snapped, your voice trembling with barely controlled annoyance. You took a step forward. âYou donât know him at all. He didnât do it because he wanted to fight. He was just trying to protect me!â
Hyun stared at you for a long moment.
It wasnât your defense of Jungkook that caught him off guard. It was the sheer speed of it. You hadnât stopped to think, only reacting out of an absolute certainty of your mind. And Hyun realized, with an ache in his chest, that while he had been halfway across the world, someone else had been entirely present in the corners of your life he knew nothing about.
But he didnât back down. He leaned forward slightly, his large hands flat against his desk. âProtecting you from what, y/n? What requires a boy to use his knuckles until they look like that just to keep you safe?â
âIt doesnât matter,â you snapped, your jaw aching.
âIt matters to me,â Hyun pressed, his sharp eyes refusing to let you look away. âFists donât just fly out of nowhere. If heâs handling your battles with violence, then heâs bringing that environment into your life. Is that the kind of baggage you want to carry? Because I can tell you from experience, it doesnât stay outside the house. It follows you in.â
âHe isnât bringing anything into my life!â Your voice cracked, a bitter laugh escaping you as the exhaustion finally boiled over, the years of quiet compliance snapping completely. âYou donât have the right to do this,â you whispered, your chest heaving as the tears of frustration threatened to burn the backs of your eyes.
Hyun opened his mouth to reply, his brow furrowing, but you cut him off, catching him entirely by surprise.
âYou havenât even been here. Youâve been thousands of miles away across an ocean while I was trying to figure out how to breathe in this house. Jungkook was the one who stayed. Heâs the only one who actually stayed. So donât you dare act like you have a say in who I trust.â
Hyun sat quietly, his gaze lingering on you for a long moment before dropping to the coffee in his hands. There was nothing to argue with.
Whatever had happened, you werenât ready to tell him. He could see that much. Every answer he wanted sat somewhere behind the rigid set of your shoulders and the way your fingers curled so tightly into themselves.
You werenât going to tell him what happened tonight, and pressing you any further was only going to drive you completely out of his reach. Heâd already missed too much. If he pushed now, heâd only miss you too.
Slowly, the tension left Hyunâs shoulders. He leaned back in his chair, going quiet, letting your anger exist without fighting it.
You stood there, the adrenaline slowly beginning to drain and leaving you feeling hollowed out and freezing. Your eyes scanned his unreadable face before you dropped your gaze.
âYouâre... youâre not going to talk to him about this, are you?â you asked softly.
Hyun waited a long second, staring at his hands before he looked up at you. âIâm not.â
âWhy?â you demanded quietly, needing to hear the reason.
âBecause heâs your friend,â Hyun murmured, his voice dropping into a tired acceptance. âYou live out here. I donât. You know him, and you trust him. If thatâs where youâre placing your safety, then I trust your judgment.â
You blinked, the sudden shift in his energy catching you off guard.
Hyun sighed, looking out the window one last time at the blackness of the night before looking back at you. He reached out and pushed the small desk lamp, dimming the light in the room until the shadows softened.
âGet some sleep, pipsqueak.â he said softly, âThe rain isnât going to stop tonight, and neither are the things in your head. We donât have to solve any of this right now. Weâll talk about the rest when the sunâs up.â
You looked at him for a long moment before lowering your eyes. Nothing had changed. Jungkookâs words continued to linger in the back of your mind, unanswered and impossible to make sense of, but the desperate need to chase them had eased. They could wait until morning. They would have to.
Hyun paused, his gaze drifting toward the closed door of his room before settling back on you. âTell Jungkook to be careful if heâs driving home in this. Or... tell him he can occupy the guest room until morning. Thereâs no point in him risking the flooded roads tonight.â
You swallowed down the sudden lump in your throat. After everything you had just hurled at him, his compromise felt incredibly meaningful. âOkay,â you whispered, your fingers tightening around the edge of your sweater. âIâll let him know. Goodnight, dad.â
âGoodnight, kiddo.â
You turned on your heel and walked out into the dark hallway, pulling his door shut.
You made your way back to your bedroom door, the light from your own room spilling out from beneath the crack, waiting for you.
Turning the handle to your bedroom door, you pushed it open as quietly as possible, the light from your bedside lamp spilling into the hallway.
âJungkook?â Calling his name out with a near breathy whisper, you were greeted with no response.
Stepping fully into the room, you pulled the door shut behind you. Jungkook hadnât climbed into the mattress; he was sitting flat on the hardwood floor, back flush against the side of your bed frame. His legs were stretched out straight, head tilted back, resting heavily against the edge of your mattress. The white bandage around his wrist caught the dim light, a painstaking reminder of the violence that had brought you both here.
A quiet sigh escaped you. Jungkook was asleep; the sheer exhaustion of the night had finally caught up to him. You felt too hollowed out to wake him, too emotionally drained to deliver your fatherâs message or face another pointed glance from those dark eyes.
Moving like a ghost, you crawled onto the opposite side of the bed, pulling the heavy duvet over the trembling line of your shoulders. You didnt turn off the lamp, shifting to your side, facing the edge where he slept, your eyes tracing the sharp line of his profile just inches below you.
From up here, you could see his long, dark eyelashes cast faint shadows over his sharp cheekbones, his chest rising and falling in slowly. Your fingers twitched from where they were clenching the duvet, aching to run them through his soft, dark hair.
âMy dad said you could stay in the guest room,â you whispered into the quiet space between you, knowing he couldnât hear. You knew the heavy pull of his sleep had taken over. âHe said the roads are flooded.â
Jungkook didnât stir. A stray lock of dark hair fell across his forehead.
âI donât understand you,â whispering, your fingers tightened against the duvet. âI donât understand why you do any of this. Why you treat me like a nuisance one day, and then break your own hands to protect me the next.â
You swallowed hard, your eyes tracing the slope of his nose, the soft curve of his mouth.
âYou ruin everything,â you murmured, eyes burning as you stared down at his peaceful face. âYouâre supposed to be the guy I resent, Jungkook. You were supposed to be the one thing that made sense to hate.â
It was a desperate attempt to make sense of the boy who had spent months acting like a prick, pushing your buttons and tearing at your patience.
âAnd the worst part is...â You laughed quietly, nothing amusing in it. âI donât even know if Iâm angry because you ruined everything... or because Iâm terrified you actually cared enough to.â
The room felt silent again. Your voice cracked, all the unvarnished frustration spilling out.
âIâm going to be so fucking mad at you,â you whispered, a hot, angry tear finally escaping and slipping down your temple. âIf all of this... if youâve...â
You stopped, the sentence dying on your tongue because you literally could not finish it. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut. âThis is so unfair.â
If only there were somewhere in the middle. Somewhere you could stay angry enough to keep him at armâs length and protect yourself. You wanted to resent the way heâd turned your life upside down, but your skin burned with the ghost of his calloused hands, and your mind kept wandering dangerously close to the memory of the softest lips.
But those things couldnât possibly belong to the same person. They just couldnât.
You opened your eyes again, studying his sleeping face as though it might finally give you an answer it had stubbornly refused to while he was awake. âI donât want to stop hating you.â you whispered into the dark.
The heavy patter of the rain against the windowpane began to blur, the entirety of the night finally dragging your eyelids down. Your gaze lingered on the white wrap around his knuckles one last time before the darkness of sleep pulled you under eventually.
It took Jungkook exactly fifteen minutes to awaken from his unexpected nap. He didnât register the persistent patter of rain against the windowpane at first â what his mind sought comfort in, amidst the unfamiliar shapes of your bedroom, were sounds of the softest snores. He turned his head to look, though the fear of disrupting your peaceful sleep forced him to remain alert.
This isnât where heâs supposed to be; Jungkook reminds himself. But canât help the subtle, involuntary twitch of his fingers against his lap after glancing upon your face. He canât help but recall the nights he had you all to himself, even if it was only for a few hours. That was all he needed. Itâs unfair and selfish of him to want that much. He doesnât deserve any of it â are things heâs aware of deep down. For all that heâs done.
Careful not to make a single sound, Jungkook shifted his weight, pulling his legs beneath him before standing up straight. He hadnât been entirely under. He had heard the small, broken edge of your voice through the fog of his exhaustion, and it had clawed at his chest. Nevertheless, knowing it wouldnât be polite to linger in a ghost house at odd hours, he decides to leave, not before moving his fingers to fix the slightly askew duvet over your shoulders. His thumb aches to trace the soft curve of your bottom lip, before he thinks the better of it. He deserves the resentment you fought so hard to maintain.
Pulling the door shut behind him, he slips into the dark hallway. Heâs thankful for the gauze and the white wrap over his knuckles, solely for the comfort of your touch and all the breathless scolding that had come with it. He didnât regret a single thing heâd done tonight, neither did he disregard your frustration over the violence. Or maybe he did. And maybe that was the problem, because he knew he wouldnât hesitate to drive his knuckles into Daeâs face over and over again for disrespecting you, even if he knew the bloody aftermath would only drive you further apart from him. Itâs a dark side of himself that he had managed to keep at bay over years of tolerance and patience. But lately, Jungkook feels like he might just be running out of time to stay true to himself.
He rounded the corner into the expanse of the living room, his boots making no sound on the hardwood as he headed to the front door. But he stopped dead in his tracks.
Hyun sat across from him with a glass of wine, looking every bit as startled as Jungkook was.
âI didnât expect you to be slipping out in the middle of a deluge, Jungkook.â Hyun spoke, gesturing vaguely to the armchair across from him, then to the half empty bottle on the table. âTake a seat. Oh, and donât mind my ill manners. It isnât exactly proper to drink so late, but tonight calls for an exception, I suppose.â
Jungkook kept his arms straight at his sides. His uninjured hand subtly slid into the pocket of his suit jacket, his fingers brushing against the metal of his apartment keys to make sure they had made it this far. âThank you, sir, but iâll have to decline.â He spoke. âI intend to drive.â
Hyun turned the stem of his wine glass between his fingers. He didnât press the offer. His eyes drifted toward the dark expanse of the hallway where the bedrooms lay. Jungkook noticed the way the old man swallowed before he finally broke the silence.
âIs she alright?â
The vulnerability Hyun carried with his tone didnât go unnoticed by Jungkook, who immediately adjusted his stance slightly out of respect for the manâs anxiety. âSheâs quite exhausted from the night.â He said quietly. âBut sheâs alright. Held the whole formal up by herself tonight.â
âAh. Of course.â Hyun murmured. He straightened his shoulders slightly, a small smile touching his lips though it faded as quickly as it appeared, his eyes drifting back down to the dark liquid in his glass. âMy daughter practically bared her teeth at me earlier, you know? She was so adamant on trying to get me to not talk to you.â
The older man let out a faint chuckle, leaning back against the sofa. âWell, you may not know, but I used to be a notorious father when she was a teenager. Embarrassed her quite a lot back then. I used to scare off every single boy â though, I didnât get the chance to chase the last boy away⊠Minho. If iâm right. Doesnât seem like i have to anymore, since he appears to be long gone.â
A whirlwind of scattered thoughts clouded Jungkookâs mind with every carefully chosen word that left Hyunâs mouth. The younger man started to think Hyun didnât quite like him; or simply, that he was trying to make sense of the degree of the relationship the boy seemed to hold with his only daughter before deciding whether to chase him off or let him stay. For all his thoughts, Jungkook couldnât help but feel a subtle pang in his chest at the words of your father chasing boys away from your past. He started to wonder how many others had been a part of your life before him. Before Minho. How many others had held your attention enough to be considered a threat by your overprotective father.
âI know what youâre probably thinking right now.â The slight slurry in Hyunâs tone signaled that the alcohol had finally loosened his tight grip on his composure. âOld man had too much to drink, sitting in the dark, talking nonsense. And⊠she wouldnât be pleased with me talking to you either. Trusted me not to, i think. Sheâs keeping your secrets, as it seems. Jungkook.â
Hyunâs sharp eyes moved over Jungkookâs white-wrapped hand before he lifted his gaze back to his face. There only remained a father who realized he was on the outside looking in. âIt may not be my place anymore,â Hyun said softly. âBut I need to know if my daughter is slipping away into something I canât reach her from.â
He didnât demand an answer, nor did he ask about what had happened tonight. Jungkook could feel the suffocating pull of the older manâs worry, but he remained grounded. He knew that your story, and the choices you made tonight, belonged entirely to you.
âYouâre right, sir.â Jungkook replied eventually. âIt isnât my story to tell, either. I respect her privacy too much to give you pieces that donât belong to me. When sheâs ready, sheâll tell you herself. I hope you can understand why it has to come from her.â
Hyun stared at him, completely out of words. He had been met with a brick wall, but it was a wall built entirely out of a fierce loyalty towards his daughterâs boundaries.
âWell, then.â Hyun clicked his tongue softly against the roof of his mouth before standing up. He pointed a finger toward the dark hallway. âThe guest room is the first door on the left. The sheets are clean. You donât need to be driving out in this storm.â
âThank you for the offer.â Jungkook gave a respectful inclination of his head as his hand settled back onto the cold metal of the front door handle. âBut iâll take my leave.â
Hyun watched as Jungkook turned the handle and stepped out onto the porch. The storm had quietened. The rain had started to slow down.
Standing alone in the dark house, the old man figured the answers he had been looking for tonight were impossible to get. Well, atleast his daughter was under the same roof as him, asleep in her own bed for what felt like the first time in forever. That alone brought relief to his chest, easing the persistent ache of his own absences ever since heâd come home. Hyun let out a tired sigh, shaking his head before he reached over to turn the lamp light off.
His daughter had always been impossible. It was a strange thing, meeting someone who didnât seem particularly bothered by that.
a/n: leave it to user @kurapikaenia to somehow manage to write a 14k word chapter with little to absolutely zero character development between jungkook and y/n, followed by absolutely no smut either, making this the most underwhelming update to ever grace this fic. however. this is where the wheel finally starts turning. and before another tomato comes flying my way, yes. i do, in fact, mean that feelings are finally going to be acknowledged and dealt with from the next chapter onward. weâre finally getting somewhere. but the angst is, my angels, unfortunately here to stay. on the bright side, though, that just leaves plenty of room for more hate sex between them so yayy!! no? okay. my bad. iâll just go cry in a corner.
synopsis: Kim Taehyung was forbidden the moment your older brother, Namjoon, became friends with him. Falling for Taehyung was something you couldnât control. He was everything you wanted in a man and more. He met every standard of yours and exceeded them, but you could never bring yourself to confess to him, so you wrote your feelings down in nine letters and kept them in a shoebox. Though, Taehyung always went back to his first love, making you believe that there was no chance for you. You decided it was time to let him go. He could never be yours. That day, you wrote one last letter. Your goodbye letter.
pairing: brotherâs best friend!taehyung x fem!reader
genre / warnings: 18+ content, nsfw, a bit heavy angst at the start, fluff, smut!!!, strong & vulgar language, reader is working at the louvre, taehyung finally locked in, dom!taehyung, brat!reader, breeding and praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!!), oral (fem. receiving), teasing, dirty talk (tae is such a talker fr), grinding, tits sucking, and new characters #amelia&mannyfanclub!!
niniâs notes: the long awaited part two for 9 letters, 1 goodbye!! thank you so so much for the love and support iâve received on part one, itâs genuinely insane to me how many people read, liked, commented, and reblogged!! đ„čđ€ i also havenât written smut in so long so pls forgive me if itâs terrible đ„Č
word count: 5.3K
main masterlist part one
Adjusting to life in Paris wasnât an easy thing to do. French was hard to learn and become fluent in. The lifestyle customs in France were very different from what you were accustomed to, but you were able to conquer the challenge. Working at the Louvre though was difficult at first too. Your manager was hard on you and was very particular about how he wanted things which made you get frustrated a lot.
Over time, you got better and became the unofficial official star employee at the Louvre. You became an assistant manager and handled most of the art exhibitions held at the Louvre.
This monthâs art exhibition will showcase a series of paintings by the artist named Vante. You've heard of Vante before and have familiarized yourself with his artwork when the business agreement was in its early stages.
Something about his art was so familiar to you but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.
Everyone on your team had already met him, but you hadnât had the chance yet, since you were constantly in meetings with your manager to deal with potential artists who wanted to have an exhibition at the Louvre.
âIâm telling you, Y/N.â Amelia stated as she playfully fanned herself. âHeâs genuinely the most handsome man Iâve ever met and I literally live in Paris where there are models everywhere.â
You stifled a laugh and glanced at her before you went back to sign some documents. Amelia was your first friend in France and one of the coordinators for art exhibitions. She, luckily, already spoke English so your friendship blossomed pretty quickly. She was your confidant in everything and sometimes reminded you of Jungkook.
âWell,â you chuckled. âIâll let you know what my verdict is when I finally meet him.â
Vante was coming later in the day to finalize everything for his art exhibition that was due to be released tomorrow. You were nervous but it was nothing new for you, youâve always been nervous before the launch of an art exhibition.
âYouâre gonna faint.â Amelia gushed. âHeâs literally your type down to a T.â
You raised an eyebrow, âReally? Thatâs a big statement.â
âYeah, I know because you never like the guys I try to set you up with.â Amelia rolled her eyes with a laugh. âBut I really think this guy is your type!â
You merely hummed in response, amused that she really believed that Vante would be your type. To be honest, ever since the day you left for France which was about three years ago now, youâve never held a stable relationship. Youâve dated here and there, slept and kissed a few people, but at the end of the day, they never could compare to Taehyung.
In every guy youâve met, the ghost of Taehyung would flash through their eyes. He haunted your every awakening moment.
You thought giving your letters to him would aid in moving on from him, and it did, but your heart still kept the door unlocked in case something would happen.
The hopeless romantic in you had hope and you knew that would be your downfall one day.
âI donât know, Amelia.â You sighed. âIâm not looking for anything right now.â
Amelia drew in a breath. âIâm only teasing you, but if he does end up being your type, I think you should go for it. You deserve to be loved.â
Your chest twisted. You turned over to her and she gave you a small smile which you returned with a soft laugh.
âYouâre too sweet.â
âJe tâaime, Y/n.â Amelia reached over to hug you.
You pouted and held her tightly, âJe tâaime.â
âWhoa! Where was my invite?â The two of you pulled away to see Manny, a coordinator like Amelia, and also one of your closest friends.
You snickered and rolled your eyes playfully at his statement. You were used to his shenanigans and he would always make comments like that.
âAsk one of your little boyfriends, Manny.â Amelia retorted which caused you to let out a shocked laugh.
Manny gasped dramatically and slapped a hand over his chest, âYou bitch! Donât get snappy on me because Iâm getting more men than you.â Amelia simply responded by sticking up her middle finger.
âOuch.â You jokingly winced.
âDonât get me started on you.â Amelia pointed a finger at you, making you put your hands up in defense.
Manny snorted and waved his hand, âAnyways, Iâm here to let you guys know that Mr. Sexy Pants is here.â
Upon seeing the confused expression displayed on your face, Amelia laughed and revealed to you who Manny was referring to, âVanteâs here.â
You let out an âAhâ and nodded with a sheepish smile.
âRight!â Manny gasped with wide eyes, âYou havenât met him yet?â
You shook your head, âNope. Amelia keeps telling me that heâs my type though.â
âOh, he definitely is.â Manny affirmed. âNow, letâs go and meet your future husband.â
You sighed and shook your head with a giggle. They were too much sometimes but you wouldnât trade them for the world. You finished up signing the last of your papers and followed behind Manny and Amelia who started a conversation about space and aliens. You werenât that interested so you kept quiet and scrolled through your phone to see the upcoming schedules and meetings that youâll have.
âAh, Mr. Vante! This is Amelia, whom youâve already met, and this here is our lovely assistant manager who is the mastermind behind the organization of your art exhibition.â Hearing the professional tone in Mannyâs voice made you look up from your phone.
As you locked your phone and put it away in your pocket, the smile that you were about to give ceased to appear.
Instead, your eyes widened and your lips parted in shock.
In front of you was Vante who stared at you with soft eyes and a small sad smile.
To everyone, he was Vante, but to you, he was Taehyung.
Your Taehyung.
âHi.â The familiar deep baritone voice that you fell in love with flowed through your body bringing goosebumps to your skin.
Manny and Amelia both gave you a worried look seeing that you hadnât spoken, which was not like you at all. You were always so professional, but right now, you looked like you were about to cry.
âHi, Mr. Vante.â You swallowed thickly and flashed him the best smile you couldâve mustered. âItâs nice to finally meet you. I look forward to working with you.â
Taehyung exhaled sharply, his eyes ever so gentle, âI look forward to working with you too.â
âGreat!â Manny clapped his hands making you flinch slightly at the sudden loudness. Taehyungâs eyes never left your figure as Manny spoke, âNow that the introductions are out of the way. Vante, could you let us know if thereâs anything we need to fix or change about your exhibition?â
Manny and Amelia began to walk him through the exhibition that you had just finalized. He was attentive to them and the questions that they had, but every now and then, he would glance over at you.
You would chime in and give a comment on a particular section of the exhibition but it was Manny and Amelia who spoke the most.
âThis is the end.â You stated and Taehyung was quick to look over at you. âAgain, if thereâs anything thatâs not to your standards, let us know so we can deal with it.â
âEverythingâs perfect.â Taehyung shook his head, a mellow expression visible on his face. âI loved it. You did great.â
You picked at the cuticle on your thumbs, âIâm glad.â You turned to Manny and Amelia, giving them a tight smile, âI have a meeting soon, I have to go.â You didnât really wait for their response before you spun on your heels and began to walk away. You had to get away from there, from him. You felt suffocated.
âWait, Y/N!â Your breath hitched at the sound of Taehyungâs voice calling out to you and you hesitantly turned around.
âCan we talk later?â Taehyung asked quietly, âPlease?â
You had your eyes locked on your feet, âWhy?â
âY/Nie.â
You wanted to cry at the tenderness coming from Taehyung.
âLook at me.â Taehyung pleaded.
You swallowed harshly and glanced up to face him.
Taehyung's eyes were slightly glistening. His lips twitched into a small smile, âTalk to me, please?â
You stayed silent for a few minutes before slowly nodding, âOkay.â
Taehyung let out a sigh of relief. His eyes scanned your face like it would be the last time he would ever see you. âYour numberâs still the same?â
âYeah.â You muttered.
âOkay.â Taehyung breathed out. Your eyes caught sight of Taehyungâs hand twitching and you felt your heart clench. You could tell he wanted to reach out. âText me when youâre free?â
âI will.â You whispered. âI have to go, but I will text you.â
âIâll be waiting.â Taehyungâs lips curled into a faint smile.
You reciprocated his action before turning away, your heart pounding violently against your ribcage.
You were so fucked.
After your meeting, you didnât text Taehyung immediately. Instead, you called Jimin. You knew he would know something about Vante being Taehyung.
âHello?â The melodic voice of Jimin entered your ears once he picked up.
âYou knew, didnât you?â
Jimin was quiet for a moment, âKnow what exactly? Itâs a little late here, Y/N. My brainâs not really functioning at this hour.â
âTaehyung. Him being Vante.â
You were met with silence for a few minutes.
âYou saw him?â Jimin muttered.
âThatâs all you have to say?â You sputtered.
âY/Nie.â Jimin sighed, âHe didnât want you to know. He wanted you to chase your dreams.â
âButââ
âTaehyung,â Jimin interjected. He inhaled sharply, âHe read your letters, Y/N. When he finished them all, I watched him completely break down. I have never seen him so. . . broken. He was devastated and he never acted like that over Lina. He pursued art because of you. Youâre the reason why heâs Vante. He never wanted you to know because he thought you were better off. . .â Without him. You knew what Jimin wanted to say.
âFuck.â You tearfully laughed. You glanced out of your officeâs window and sniffled, âI forgot how to breathe when I saw him, Jimin. He still has such a hold over me.â
âI know.â Jimin hummed sympathetically. âHave you talked to him yet?â
âNot yet.â You exhaled, âI just got out of a meeting and called you.â
âI appreciate the phone call but you should go talk to him.â Jimin chuckled, âBesides, itâs late here already and I have an early morning.â
âOkay.â You muttered and rubbed your eyes tiredly, âNight, Jimin. Thanks for picking up. Love you.â
âLove you too. Update me.â Jimin responded softly.
You smiled, âI will.â
The familiar dial tone was heard and you placed your phone on your desk for a moment. You drew in a breath and searched for Taehyungâs contact as you haven't texted him in forever.
You: hereâs my address, xxx
You: let me know when youâre here
Taehyung: okay :)
You sighed and closed your eyes.
You were so scared.
You hoped this conversation would end well.
You lived relatively close to the Louvre so it wasnât a far drive back to your apartment. You managed to clean up your place fairly well, even though it was already pretty neat. You wanted to be nice and inviting so you decided to cook Japchae with some of the leftovers you had from the night you made Kimbap.
Japchae was also one of Taehyungâs favorite dishes and you wanted him to have a piece of home while he was over.
Your phone dinged and you placed down your chopsticks to check the notification.
Taehyung: iâm here!
As you read the text, a soft knock was heard on the door. You wiped your hands on the kitchen cloth hanging off the handle of your oven before making your way over to the front door. You took a deep breath and unlocked the door. You were met with Taehyung who held a bouquet of tulips.
âYou still like tulips right?â Taehyung inquired with a timid smile.
âUh, yes.â You let out a surprised laugh and nodded. âIâm shocked you still remembered.â
âI remember everything about you, Y/N.â Taehyung answered gently like it was the most obvious thing ever. You felt yourself stop breathing and the two of you held eye contact for a brief moment before you cleared your throat and stepped aside.
âCome in.â
Taehyung smiled at you and muttered a quick âThanksâ under his breath as he took off his shoes. He neatly placed them beside your flats and you gestured for him to follow to the kitchen where the aroma of your cooking Japchae consumed his senses.
âIs that Japchae I smell?â Taehyung gasped.
âI wanted to make something close to home for both of us.â You smiled.
âYou didnât have to, but thank you.â Taehyungâs eyes softened, âReally.â
You merely brushed him off with a wave of your hand and began plating his portion. You made sure to give him a lot because you knew he had a big appetite.
âIâll eat well.â Taehyung placed his hands together and smiled.
You chuckled and placed some of the Japchae in your bowl. You blew on the noodles to cool them down a bit before slurping some up.
A content hum was heard from Taehyung as his eyebrows scrunched in satisfaction, âThis is really good, Y/N.â
âThanks.â You beamed. âI mean, I was always the better cook between us.â
Taehyung gasped and gave you a faux hurt look, âOuch!â
You giggled and his lips twitched into a grin at the sound.
You guys made small talk updating each other on your lives as you ate. When the two of you finished, Taehyung insisted on washing the dishes since you had cooked. You knew how stubborn Taehyung was so you allowed him to do it.
âSo.â You drew in a breath, âWhat did you want to talk about?â
Taehyung was finishing up on cleaning the last bowl and gave you a nervous smile, âYou. Us.â
Your heart stopped.
Taehyung placed the bowl into the rack with dishes next to your sink and wiped his hands dry on the kitchen cloth.
âI read the letters,â Taehyung muttered. You stayed quiet, but your hands were shaking against your thighs. âI had no idea you felt that way about me and it was really hard on me when I read your letters.â
âTaeââ
Taehyung shook his head and placed his hand on top of yours, âLet me finish.â
You pursed your lips.
Taehyung gave you a faint smile and walked around to sit in the empty stool beside you. He grabbed your hands and placed them in his. âYou were my biggest supporter and were always there for me when I needed someone. I never felt so seen by someone before. I think a part of me always felt a type of way about you but the other part of me denied it because youâre Namjoonâs younger sister and I felt like I would betray him if I ever thought of you in that way.â
You felt your eyes sting with tears.
Taehyung laughed wetly, âI stayed in denial of my own feelings and as a result lost the chance of something that wouldâve made me so happy.â He peered up from his lap where both of your hands were and your chest tightened, his eyes shone with tears, âI felt like a complete failure when I wasnât there for you on your big day, and finding out from Jimin that you left before I could fix things between us gutted me.â
Your lips quivered and a tear fell down your face. Taehyungâs lips twitched and he reached up to wipe it away.
âThe only thing I thought I could do was to pursue art like youâve always wanted me to and maybe my artwork would be displayed at the Louvre, giving me the chance to rekindle with you.â
âAnd you achieved that.â You whispered. You gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hands, âYou made your dreams come true. Iâm really proud of you.â
Taehyung smiled sadly, âAll of my dreams havenât come true yet.â
Your breath hitched as Taehyung moved closer. His eyes scanned your face intensely, âI missed you, Y/N.â he let out a choked laugh, tears falling down his face, âAnd I love you. I am completely and irrevocably in love with you too. Iâve always been but I was a coward.â
Hearing the familiar words that you wrote down in your letter to Taehyung made you break. A shaky gasp left your lips as you leaned your head down to cry. Your shoulders shook with each sob. Taehyung pulled you into an embrace and placed his cheek on top of your head. You felt numerous tears fall on your hair which made you believe that he was crying too.
âIâm so sorry.â Taehyug sniffled. âI love you. Iâm sorry it took me so long.â
You cried against his shoulders and gripped his shirt tightly. Your heart ached in agony and love because this moment was something youâd always dreamed of happening, and now that it was, it broke you.
You pulled back and your teary eyes met his own. Your lips wobbled, âI hate you.â
âI know.â Taehyung muttered, reaching up to brush your hair away from your face.
âI hate you.â You weakly punch his shoulder, âI hate that I was never able to shake you out of my system. I hate that every guy that I met and tried to date could never meet my expectations because I always thought of you. I hate how even after three years, you still consume my every awakening thought. You are in my blood and I will never be cured of you.â
Your voice cracked, âI hate you.â
Taheyungâs lips tugged into a tragic smile, âAnd I love you.â
A shaky exhale left your mouth and you turned away from him. You reached up to wipe away any tears that fell.
âLook at me.â You hear Taehyung ask faintly.
âBaby.â
Your hand clenched into a fist.
âLook at me, please?â
You swallowed and turned to face him. Taehyung gave you a weak grin and reached for your hand.
âWhat now?â You questioned quietly.
âNow?â Taehyung replied softly. âNow, you can do whatever you want. I said my piece and if you want nothing to do with me, Iâll walk out right now.â
You were quiet for a few minutes before you shook your head. You held your pinky up to him and Taehyung stared at it in surprise, âPromise me youâll stop being a coward?â
Taehyung laughed bashfully and linked his pinky with yours, âPromise.â This time, he brought your intertwined hands to his lips and kissed the back of your hand.
You felt your skin burn.
Taehyung took the chance to scan your face again before a small grin broke out on his face.
âCan I kiss you?â
You froze.
âWhat?â
Taehyung laughed, âCan I kiss you?â
You slowly nodded your head and Taehyungâs grin grew wider before he pulled you into a breathtaking kiss.
The moment your lips met his, your whole body relaxed into his hold and he took that chance to pull you closer. You felt him let out a relieved sigh against your lips and you almost wanted to combust. The tip of his tongue teased your bottom lip which made you part your lips for him. A satisfied moan left him as your tongues made contact.
His leg made its way between your thighs and you whimpered as Taehyung pushed his thigh up into your heat.
âBedroom.â Taehyung whispered huskily against your lips. You were at a loss for words so the only thing you could do was point to the other side of your apartment where your bedroom is.
Taehyung pulled you back into a kiss and this time he did not hold back. Your tongues tangled with each other and you both stumbled across the apartment to try to get to your bedroom. The door slammed loudly against the wall as Taehyung blindly opened it. He gripped your thighs and hauled you up into his arms which caused you to moan.
You felt your back fall back onto your mattress and you watched as Taehyung hungrily eyed you.
âFuck, I've dreamt of this for so long,â Taehyung muttered, his fingers trailing up your exposed legs. You slightly arched your back with a whine which caused him to laugh, âPatience baby. I need to savor you.â
âHurry up.â You grumbled.
Taehyung chuckled darkly, âYouâve always been such a brat.â He leaned down to lick your neck up to your ear. You moaned loudly at the dirty action. Your back arched into his chest and you felt your panties sticking to your heat already.
âTaehyung,â You whined.
âWhat do you want, sweetheart?â Your eyes rolled back at the pet name. âTell me what you want.â
âYour mouth.â You gasped. âPlease.â
Taehyung chuckled and his hand trailed down your stomach to your aching core. He cursed loudly at the wetness and you whimpered at the light touches of his fingers.
âYou're already so wet for me, huh?â Taehyung teased. You tried to push your heat closer to his fingers but his other hand was quick to push your hips down on the bed. âAh, ah, not so fast. I'm going to take my time with you and you're gonna be a good girl and lie there all pretty for me, okay?â
You trembled. Taehyung left your heat and he gripped your cheeks softly with a raised eyebrow, âWords.â
âYes, sir.â You swallowed thickly.
Taehyung gave you a satisfied smirk, âThatâs my girl.â
Your core clenched at the comment. My girl. You were his girl. Fuck, if he wasn't going to start anything soon you were going to pounce on him, damn the consequences.
Taehyung pushed your legs apart again and you closed your eyes with a whimper but the sound of his tongue clicking made you open your eyes again. He gave you an approval hum and you cursed under your breath. He was so undeniably sexy right now.
He reached the hem of your shirt and you lifted your arms up to allow him to take off the clothing. His eyes darkened at the sight of your bare chest, âNo bra?â
âI don't wear one when I'm home. It's uncomfortable.â You murmured breathlessly.
Taehyung huffed before he leaned down, trailing kisses on your sternum. You watched as he licked and sucked around your tits but he never placed his mouth where you so desperately wanted him to. His eyes flickered up to yours, and he smirked before his lips encircled your right boob.
You threw your head back with a noisy moan and your hand flew to the back of his head, gripping onto his hair tightly which caused him to groan against your chest.
His hand reached up to intertwine with yours and he pushed it into the mattress, sucking on your nipple hungrily. He swirled his tongue in circles making your eyebrows furrow in pleasure.
âTaehyung.â You gasped. He hummed before switching to your other boob, giving it the same treatment. He sucked harshly resulting in you arching your back. He grinded against your core and moaned loudly as you gripped his hair harder.
Taehyung let go of your tit with a pop, his lips were red and swollen from the intense act.
âYouâre divine.â Taehyung groaned before pulling you into a sloppy kiss. You groaned against his mouth and his tongue danced with yours as he grinded against you again.
You whimpered and tightened your legs around his waist. He pulled back and a string of saliva connecting your lips was visible, âFuck, baby.â
âI need more, Tae.â you mumbled, voice laced with complete desire. Taehyung didn't respond. He began to trail kisses down your chest before he finally came to your core. He slowly pulled down your shorts and a small groan left his lips at the damp spot that was evident on your panties.
âFuck, I bet you taste as sweet as you smell.â Taehyung grunted. You whimpered and you felt your core pulsing. He leaned closer and his hot breath was against your covered heat and your stomach clenched in anticipation. His arm circled your waist to hold you in place while the other one intertwined with your left hand.
He licked a stripe up your clothed heat and the feeling of his wet tongue against the most sensitive part of your body made you shiver heavily.
âTae,â You whined loudly and he chuckled. His fingers looped into the bands of your underwear and he pulled them down, revealing your wet cunt.
âLook at you,â he mumbled in complete admiration, âYouâre so fucking pretty.â
Taehyung wasted no time and his tongue was quick to lick between your slick folds. Your hips bucked into his mouth, and you arched your back letting out the most pornographic moan that caused Taehyung to groan loudly against your heat. The vibrations of it sent shivers down your spine.
He latched onto your clit and sucked harshly. A loud gasp left your lips and you felt yourself arching again before Taehyung pressed you back down onto the bed roughly. You whined and he pushed his tongue into your cunt, flickering it up and down. Your eyes welled up with tears as your body shook with pleasure.
You glanced down and Taehyung peered up at you with hooded eyes, his hair completely disheveled from your constant gripping and you've never seen such a beautiful sight. He looked so fucking good that it was enough to make the tension in your stomach reach its endpoint.
âI'm gonna cum.â You moaned but you cried out when he suddenly pulled away. You opened your eyes to see him moving away from between your thighs. Taehyung locked his lips and he rolled his eyes back at the sweet tangy taste of you.
âYou're not cumming yet.â Taehyung shook his hand as he tugged his shirt over his head. âYou're cumming around my cock.â
Fuck. Whatever he wants.
You gawked at his chest, his abs clenched every time he moved an inch and you felt yourself get even wetter. You were quick to help him pull his pants and boxers down and he laughed at your eagerness.
âShut up.â you grumbled.
He tapped your nose and smiled at you, âYouâre cute.â
âJust fuck me already.â You rolled your eyes and he raised an eyebrow at that.
Taehyung let out a dark chuckle, âYouâre such a fucking brat, but you're my brat.â
You swallowed thickly and stared at him with wide eyes.
âAre you clean?â Taehyung asked but you were distracted by the sight of his cock. He was big, definitely bigger than all the guys you've ever slept with. The head was pink and leaking with precum already as he stroked it. He was so fucking gorgeous.
âBaby?â
You looked away to see Taehyung staring at you in amusement.
âIâumâyes, Iâm clean.â you stuttered.
Taehyung laughed and he leaned down to pull you into a soft kiss, âYouâre the cutest.â
âStop itââ You began but were cut off with a moan as you felt him teasing your entrance, lubricating his cock with your slick. Taehyung grunted and his hands fell between the sides of your head. Your hands flew to his wrists and you gripped onto it tightly as your stomach clenched.
âI'll go slow, okay?â Taehyung assured you softly. You nodded and whimpered as he slowly pushed into you. Once he was finally nestled inside your walls, a low moan left his mouth. The rawness of your gummy walls gripping him so tightly made him want to ram into you so roughly, but he held back. He used all of his power to hold himself back.
âYou okay, sweetheart?â Taehyung asked worriedly and you gave him a quick nod.
âYou can move now.â you breathed out.
Taehyung growled and immediately rocked his hips into you. A loud moan left your mouth as you arched your back into him. His hand moved toward yours and he intertwined it, pushing it into the mattress.
âI know, baby. I know.â
You whimpered at that. He continued to thrust, each one harder and more intense. Taehyung's breath was uneven and every now and then, a soft moan would leave his lips whenever you would grind down onto him. âMy girl. You're all mine. Jesus, you're so fucking tight.â You moaned, hearing his comments.
When he reached a particular spot, a trembling whimper left you. Taehyung panted against your ears and a low deep chuckle came from him, âRight there?â
âFuck, please, please, please.â you babbled.
His fingers reached down to your clit and he began to rub it aggressively. Your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed as your toes curled in euphoric pleasure. The tension in your lower stomach was close to bursting.
âFuck, you feel like heaven,â Taehyung grunted as he slammed into you with another harsh thrust. âCum. I wanna feel you.â
His circular motions on your clit intensified and your back arched into his chest as you felt yourself release. Your legs shook uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over your entire body. Your walls clenched around his cock causing Taehyung to moan.
Despite being overstimulated, you still wanted to make sure Taehyung cum as well. You started to rock your hips against him which made him gasp loudly, his cock throbbed inside of you.
âBabyââ Taehyung started but you cut him off with a kiss. He groaned against your lips and your tongue made its way into his mouth, sucking on the muscle roughly. He whimpered and began to thrust as he tried to reach his climax.
âShit, you're too fucking good for me.â Taehyung babbled, âYou want me to fill you up?â You moaned intensely at his dirty words, âFuck, yeah you do. Want me to fill you up and make you round with my baby?â The thought of carrying his child made you clench around him which caused his eyes to roll back as he continued to chase his release.
âFuck, I'm cumming.â He groaned as he gave one final thrust before his hot seed coated your walls. Taehyungâs head fell onto your shoulders and he breathed heavily against it, eyes shut in content. Your fingers reached up to brush through his hair.
âLet me clean you up,â Taehyung murmured, and he slowly started to pull away, causing you to wince at the sudden loss. âI know, I know. I'll be right back, okay?â You watched tiredly as he walked to your bathroom before coming back with a wet cloth and he kneeled to wipe away your mixed cum that was still leaking out of your cunt.
Once he was finished, he grabbed you a new pair of underwear and his shirt. He helped you put it on and he grabbed his boxers from the ground and put them on before climbing into bed with you and enveloping you in his arms.
âI can't believe this is real.â you whispered and Taehyung chuckled before nuzzling his face into your neck. His arms were snaked around your waist tightly and he had no desire to let you go.
âWell believe it because I'm never letting you go now.â Taehyung placed a kiss under your jaw. âYou're mine forever.â
You laughed and leaned down to face him, he gave you a wide smile which made you scrunch your nose, âI love you.â
âAnd I love you.â Taehyung muttered softly with sparkling eyes.
summary: Â You and Jungkook had been forced to marry each other because of your parents wealth and their status in society. All this time you always wanted to make your parents proud. Trying your best to make this marriage work ... but little did you know that Jungkook hid something from you. Something which could destroy him or you.
" arent you tired my lovely wife? "
tags: heavy smut; murder; weapons; kidnapping; cheating; affairs; violence; slow burn; drama; angst; cursing; explicit language; tragedy; romance; fluff; character deaths; abuse; toxic relationships; su!c!de; scars; mentions of self-harm; pregnancy.
rating: 18-20+ [ Minors DNI ] This fanfiction tackles many heavy TW topics. Please keep that in mind. I dont want any minor to interact. If you do, do it at your own risk. Im not responsible for your actions.
chapters: ch 2
authors note: this is a work of fiction. dont take it too serious. all hate or bullying will be blocked.
choose a song from this playlist to listen to: you are in a meeting with your mafia rival
Whenever you thought back at the day you first saw him, you never imagined that he was such an asshole. Your parents were so proud seeing how you two got along. At least for the time he stayed at your parents mansion. After that? He really showed his real face but lets keep that for later. The first time you met Jungkook was in your parents garden. They prepared everything for the first perfect date. It was your duty as their only daughter to marry one of the richest men in this country. So, you never complained. Not as they picked out your dress and not as they shove you outside into the garden. It has always been your duty as the only daughter in your household. you learned to be the perfect lady since your 5th birthday. The black dress you wore was too tight but your mother said to show off some of your curves. You could already see his broad back from afar. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest. Carefully, you placed your hand against his shoulder causing the young man to turn to you with a smile. even back then something inside your gut told you that, that smile wasnt genuine. something about it was fake. maybe you should had turned around, begging your parents to choose someone else but as the good girl you were, you swallowed the doubts.
it was the way he spoke, so soft and polite, why you started to trust him. Oh,how wrong you were. Because the same voice would betray you a few weeks later. Now, however, this very man slept next to you in this outrageously large bed. While Jungkook wasn't the best husband in the world, having sex with him was more than satisfying. Being intimate with him was also the only time when he would share a room and a bed with you. In his opinion it was rude to leave a woman alone in her room after having sex with her. You didnt mind that. Sex didnt had a deeper meaning between you two. It was just a way to get rid of all the stress. And it was also your duty to keep him satisfied as his Wife. sometimes you were still suprised that he could actually be polite during it and he also respects your wishes.
Turning on your back you were able to hear his breathing beside you. The only source of light was the moonlight which flooded the room. You slowly turned your head towards him. You could see a few ruffled strands of hair that were still clinging to the slightly sweaty skin on his neck. Junkook was laying on his stomach, as usual; both arms underneath the white Pillow. Not even after sex did he gave you physical closeness, let alone a hug. Your hand reached out to the strands of black hair; carressing them a bit. Whenever he lay in bed like that next to you, you thought for a brief moment that he was really cute. he almost looked gentle. This thought mostly dissapeared again as Jungkook turned in his sleep towards you. Now you were able to study his facial features again. Like you always did whenever he stayed over. The little mole underneath his bottom lip was your favourite. Whenever you had the chance you pushed your index finger against it. This resulted, always, in an annoyed groan from Jungkook. Somehow he accepted your presence in his home and around him. As if he had any other choice.
Poking against his mole, again, made Jungkook twitch slightly in his sleep. Yes, like this he was cute. Nearly innocent looking. Deep in thoughts you kept poking the mole in his face without noticing that Junkook was staring at you. With a fast motion he grabbed your wrist before rolling on top of you. You let out a small yelp as your wrists were pinned against the mattress beside your pillow. The moonlight illuminated a part of Jungkook's face, making him look more beautiful to you.
"What do you think you are doing huh?"
there it was again, that ice cold voice you surely didnt missed. Jungkook is really "special" when it comes to physical touch. Somehow he is allowed to touch you whenever he wants to but you are not allowed to do the same. Except when he is needy. Right now, he didnt seemed like this. Gulping harshly you held eye contact with him, something he teached you since you came here. Breaking the eye contact meant losing against him. And you knew very well what happened to people who lost against Jungkook. His gaze traveled down from your face and down to your neck. To his amusement he noticed that you were still, indeed, naked. The black fluffy blanket was only able to hide half of your chest. your cleavage completely visible to him from this angle.
Seeing your skin poking out from under the blanket; let his eyes become dark again. He wanted you, again, for the third time tonight. You didnt complained. It was your duty to keep him happy. To gift him a child someday. Biting down on your lower lip you wiggled your wrists out of his grip. Slowly, nearly teasingly, you pulled down the blanket, revealing your soft breasts to him. Jungkook didnt waste a second as he lowered his body; placing soft kisses on your skin. You didnt knew why; but this was also the only time he would treat you carefully. He would worship every centimetre of your delicate skin with his lips. No matter how much you hated him, at least he was good with his mouth and with his tounge. Jungkook knew that; he knew that more than well. Outside of the bedroom he couldnt stand your annoying voice; or how your eyes roll whenever he talked with you. He preferred your sweet moans. Moans which escaped your mouth as he sucked on your nipple. With a satisfied grin on his lips he could feel your nipple perking up underneath his wet muscle. Your body started to squirm underneath him. Still sensitive from earlier you couldnt take it any longer. You wanted him; buried deep inside of you.
Jungkook noticed that; so he let go of your nipple before he placed one hand beside your head on the mattress. His second hand went down to grab his own dick; making sure that its aligned perfectly against your wet hole. Taking a glanze at your face; a smirk appeared on his face
"Look at you. So fucking needy for my cock huh? Arent you tired, my lovely wife?"
You shook your head as both of your arms wrap around his neck. Both of you didnt cared anymore about protection. So the cum which is still dripping out of you; worked perfect as some kind of lube. Rubbing with the tip of his dick over your folds makes him shudder in response. He might hate you; but he surely loved your body. Jungkook already pushed his tip inside your wet cavern; but in that moment .. there were loud noises heard from the outside. Worried your head perked up
"Whats wrong?"
"Sht dont mind it okay? Lets continue."
As he wanted to push himself completely inside of you; a loud bang was heard against the door. First it was only one but then it became louder. One of Jungkook's man were outside the door; banging at it furiously
"Mister Jeon! Im sorry to bother you but we have an emergency at one of the piers. They caught Jimin!"
You immediately knew that this was it. Jimin was Jungook's right hand and his childhood friend. With a grunt he slipped out of you; leaving you with an empty feeling. From the corner of your eye you could see how he putted on his pants. Those pants barely did their job by hiding his, still visible, bulge. After putting on his white shirt he looks over to you
"Stay here. Dont make some stupid decisions while im gone .. and most importantly, stay inside!"
Nodding like the obedient wife you are, you pull the blanket back up to your chest. Jungkook rushed outside, closing the door with a "bang" behind him. Its hard to be the wife of an ice cold husband. Its much harder to be the wife of one of the most succsessful mafia leaders in town. Sometimes you hated your parents for their decision but they needed that deal. They needed Jungkook's protection. So you cant do anything; beside sitting here and waiting for your husband. Like the good and obedient wife you are.
Is it too late for you and Taehyung? Can you really go back to ânormalâ? And what even is normal for you two - friends, or something more? Every step tilts the balance, and you donât know where you want to fall.
genre: Taehyung X Reader, art director Taehyung x software director reader, somewhat of a slow burn, high school crush to friends to lovers, workplace romance kinda, idiots in love, fluff then angst then fluff then angst then fluff, itâs complicated, eventual smut, nothing physical for many many chapters like weâre in a shojo anime they havenât kissed yet and they get excited from regular touch like they arenât fucking 30.
warnings: drunk behavior, mentions of sex, mention of first time
word count: 5.4k + text messages
Previous Chapter
a/n: Jungkook might look like an asshole in this one. Heâs not, he just thinks Taehyung takes himself and everything too seriously. And he's not entirely wrong. Also, there's a bit of "car talk" in this. I tried. If it's completely wrong please ignore. I just tried to write my own experience when my car wouldn't start. But I didn't actually do anything, as you can tell.
I know it took longer than we wanted for this chapter. I hope it we'll be worth the wait! Sadly, I expect for the next chapter to take a while as well.. but.. we'll have some fun in the next one! As always, I'd love to hear what you thought, scream with you at them, and get your asks. Love you â„ïž
Friday October 18
Taehyung leaves the building later than he planned.
Itâs some time past 9 pm.
Way too late to leave the office.
Again.
The parking lot is nearly empty, lights humming softly overhead, some of them are flickering. It feels somewhat eerie. Too empty and too quiet. Yet the static noise is unsettling.
To be honest, Taehyung feels unsettled no matter the environment. Something is bothering him. Like, yeah, there are the long working hours, as the year ends with the holidays and then New Year's and then valentine. A lot of projects are going on at the same time. And he needs to be at his best. He needs to prove he deserves the position; he deserves to be the director at such a huge corporation.
Itâs a lot. His mind is always buzzing. Going over ideas. Reviewing decisions. Constantly doubting, is it enough?
Is he enough?
But regardless of that, heâs unsettled.
Because of you.
And his mistakes.
He itches to talk to you. To clear things up.
He told Jungkook he will. The hickey is long gone. Yet he still hasn't reached out.
In the elevator, he almost always thinks of pressing your floor number.
He never does.
He canât count the number of times his hand pressed on your contact. Pondering if he should call you. Fingers hovering over the keyboard, debating if he should send you a message.
It makes his mind spin, and his stomach ache.
He pushes it down with a drink.
And then his fingers always go to a different place.
And it feels that each day that passes, each mistake he makes - he goes further from you. Goes further from where and who he wants to be.
He reaches his car, the beep from unlocking the doors echoes, loud in the empty space. He flops into the driverâs seat with a sigh. Body heavy, mind heavier.
His phone pings in his pocket. He knows what it is. He tosses it to the passenger seat and ignites the engine, starts driving towards the exit.
He rounds the floor, and the turn he sees in the distance another single car.
Weird.
Who is the poor soul that is at the office at this time on Friday night?
Well, except for him.
As he gets closer he sees a figure. Someone is standing near the car. Looks like they are on the phone.
He slows without meaning to.
His stomach drops.
His heart pounds.
Is thatâ
Is that you?
Youâre with your back to him, but he can see that your shoulders are tense, hunched, and you bring your free hand to rub your temples.
You donât notice him at first.
He drives closer, coming to a stop near you.
You turn, and then freeze.
And so does he.
For what feels like a small eternity, him - in his car, you - standing there, in the empty parking lot. Looking at each other through the car window.
He sees your lips move before putting away your phone in your back pocket.
Taehyung then snaps back to reality, and he reaches to open the passenger window.
He feels like a brick is stuck in his throat, he feels infinitely awkward. He almost never gets shy like that. But it takes him a good minute to even start speaking.
âHey.. is everything okay?â
He feels like that came out weird, and he clears his throat immediately.
Itâs obvious youâre startled. And he almost feels bad for making you feel uncomfortable. He didnât really think when he stopped his car. Should he not?
âUmm, yeah. Well, no..â you say quietly, like you force the words out of your mouth, glancing back at your car and then at the floor.
âMy car wonât start. I think itâs the battery? I donât know. I know nothing about cars. But I try to start the engine and nothing happens. And the stupid insurance company can only come tomorrow. So I donât really know." It comes out quick, and he knows itâs your nervous rambling.
So fucking cute.
And like all of a sudden, he feels fuzzy, and nice, and not tired at all. It makes him want to smile, but he fights it, it doesn't feel appropriate in this situation.
âLetâs see if we can jump start it, I have cables in the trunk. Youâll still need to check it tomorrow, but youâll be able to get home.â He suggests and he already gets in position to reverse his car.
âOh, no! You donât need to. Itâs super late. Iâll just get an uber.â Your eyes widen in panic, you protest right away.
He turns to look back at you.
âY/n.â
He says sternly, and you shut up immediately.
As if heâll let you stay here alone this late.
He returns to move the car to align the hood with yours. He opens the hood then gets out of the car, and goes back to take out the cables from the trunk. You go silently to your car and open the hood as well. Youâre both silent, operating in awkwardness that neither of you addresses.
He leans over your engine, attaching the cables carefully, one after the other, to your car then to his. Brows furrowed in concentration. He tries to keep his mind on the task, to not let it slip into other places.
He straightens and gestures toward his car. âIâm gonna start mine first.â
The engine roars to life, loud in the empty space. He lets it run, glancing at you every few seconds.
âOkay,â he says after a moment, stepping back toward you. âTry now.â
You slide into the driverâs seat. You turn the key.
Nothing.
Your shoulders sag instantly.
âAgain,â he says softly, coming closer to you.
You try once more.
Nothing.
You let out a breath and look up at him through the windshield, frustration written all over your face.
He comes closer to you, leaning on one hand on your carâs door and head leaned down towards you. âThe battery is probably dead. You need to tell the insurance company that they need to replace it.â
You brows furrow deeper, and you look defeated.
âItâs not a big deal. Itâs an easy fix. It will take no longer than 30 minutes.â He rushes to calm you. Itâs instinctive. If he could, he'd lean down further and hug you.
But he canât. So he goes back to busy himself with releasing the cables, closing the hoods and putting them back in their place.
When he circles back, you stand near his car with wet wipes, holding it out for him.
âThanks,â he takes a few and wipes the grease from his hands.
You let out a small chuckle and he snaps his head up. He tries to fight the smile, but it slips out anyway.
âWhat's so funny?â he asks with a crooked brow.
You wave your hand, "Nothing."
Taehyung tilts his head, challenging you, as you keep giggling cutely.
âItâs just oddly weird to see you dressed like that, with grease on your hands.â You chuckle, âVery out of character.â
Taheyung looks down at himself with a grin, âOut of character?â
âYou donât seem like the type to..â you trail off a bit, looking up, considering your words. âNot the type to fix cars, getting dirty with grease.â
âOuch,â he retorts back, but his tone doesnât carry any offence, only amusement. âSo you say Iâm not manly enough for this?â
You chuckle. âWell.. this is not what I said.. but Iâm sure youâd be very upset if these pants got dirty.â
He crumples the used wipes in his hands, grin growing wider.
âThatâd be very upsetting. Itâs nice cashmere.â He looks down, as if heâs evaluating them.
âCome on,â he gestures with his head towards his car. âIâll take you home.â
The smile drops from your face, you wave both hands and shake your head. âOh, no, thatâs okay! Iâll just call an Uber.â
Taehyung doesnât say anything.
He just looks at you, face even.
Head tilted.
Eyes hooded, unimpressed.
You and him both know heâs not going to just leave you here.
You gulp and nod meekly. Silently going to get your bag from your car then following Taehyung, sliding into his passenger seat.
He enters his car, heart pounding in his ears. Feeling like it makes his whole body tremble.
Then, your scent hits him. Filling the car and his mind.
Doing nothing to help him calm himself.
Itâs been a while since he smelled it. It smells fresh and clean. And in the back of it thereâs something slightly sweet. It smells like you.
He tries his best to ignore it.
He puts your address in, and pulls the car out of the parking lot.
The city is already on night shift.
There arenât many cars or people outside. Mostly taxis and some people dressed up, going to or coming back from hanging out.
The atmosphere in the car is tense. Awkward. A lot of unsaid things hang in the air. But neither of you speaks.
He drives silently, holding the wheel, knuckles straining white. Holding himself to not turn to look at you.
When he stops at a red light, he canât help but sneak a glimpse at you. Your head turned to look out of the window, fingers intertwined in your lap. Your whole presence screams uncomfortable. His hand is itching to reach out, to ease the tension.
He hates this.
It was so easy earlier to slip back into this banter you two have. Almost too easy. He felt lighter than he felt in weeks.
But this? This is hard.
This is unnatural.
This isnât us. He thinks to himself.
He wants to tell you this. To clear things up, to return to how you were before. Damn it, he wants more than what was before. He needs to get his head straight. To use the remaining time of the ride to sort out his thoughts, to prepare what he needs to say.
And he tries to do so. He runs in his mind what he wants to say, how he wants to articulate himself.
Yet, when he stops at the foot of your building, he turns his head to look at you, youâre already looking at him, and all thoughts leave his brain.
âY/nââ
âTaeââ
You say in unison, and you both canât fight a little smile at that.
âYou go first,â you say quietly, looking down at your hands in your lap.
Usually, heâd let you go first, but he has to tell youâ
âIâm sorry.â
Your eyes snap up to meet his, and then back down as you mumble, âMe too.â
You fingers twitch in your lap, and you continue, âIâm sorry for how I left, I know it wasnât cool. I just⊠It just was so weird seeing him after all these years and Iâ I donât know. I guess I didnât know how to react.â You look back up at him, your eyes carry a silent question. And he nods in response, he can understand. Heâs glad you apologized. He already forgave you anyway.
You look back down, âAnd Iâm sorry about last week, I said some thiââ You stop as Taehyung touches your hand gently, you look back at him.
âWe both said a lot,â he gives your hand a little squeeze.
You stay silent for a moment.
âI want us to..â the words he wants to say get stuck in his throat. âTo return to how we were,â is the most he manages to say. Itâs not what he wants to say. This is not what he wants to tell you.
âMe too,â you nod.
The silence that follows is quieter than before, but heavier somehow.
Taehyung nods once, swallowing.
âGood,â he says finally, voice steady but low. âThatâs⊠good.â
He releases your hand slowly, not abruptly. As if keeping a boundary he shouldnât cross. Canât bring himself to cross. Not right now.
âI donât want things to be weird between us,â he continues. âI hate that they are.â His jaw tightens, âI take responsibility for that.â
You glance at him. âIt wasnât just you.â
He shakes his head slightly. âI still shouldnât have spoken the way I did. Or assume things.â He pauses. âYou didnât deserve that.â
You shift in your seat, shoulders relaxing just a little. âThank you.â
He nods, accepting it, then looks ahead through the windshield instead of at you. Heâs a coward and he knows that.
He hears you reach for the door handle, then pause. âThank you,â you say quietly. âFor tonight. You didnât have to.â
âI did. I meanâ I wanted to help.â He turns back to look at you.
You smile faintly at that. It doesnât quite reach your eyes.
âIâll⊠see you around?â you ask.
He nods. âYeah.â
You step out of the car, the cool night air rushing in, and you turn one last time, âGood night, Taehyung.â
âGood night, Y/n..â he mumbles weakly but you already shut the door behind you.
Taehyung watches as you walk toward the entrance. He waits until youâre inside before he exhales, long and heavy, leaning his head back against the seat closing his eyes.
Itâs not what he wants.
He feels like something more should have happened. Like he should have said more.
But guilt is holding him back. Heâs holding himself back.
He doesn't deserve it.
He doesn't deserve you.
Monday, October 21st
Even though you didnât do much on the weekend, you still find yourself tired on Monday morning.
Itâs also starting to get freezing in the morning, and your cold office doesnât help to lift up your spirit.
You turned the heating on about ten minutes ago when you just arrived, but itâs still too cold for you to function. You rub your hands together and check the time on your monitor, itâs a little past 8 am. Meaning the coffee cart has just opened, you should try to collect enough energy to go get coffee before it gets too crowded.
Before you have a chance to get up thereâs a little knock on your open office door.
You look up, and to your surprise, itâs Taehyung.
You look at him with wide eyes, blinking a couple of times, like maybe your tired state made you hallucinate whatever is going on.
You havenât talked since Friday. When he helped you with your car.
The events of this evening replayed in your mind all weekend. How awkward you felt when you first saw him. How nice it was being with him again. How his presence made it all better. How tense the ride to your place was.
All the things you should have said and didnât. You should have apologized more.
Should have you invited him over?
He has a sheepish smile on his face, âcan I come in?â
You nod, too stunned to speak, too tired to process what is going on.
Maybe this is why only when he steps in and closes the door gently behind him you notice that heâs holding flowers in one hand and two paper cups in his other.
He hands you the bouquet, âThis is for you,â he says a bit awkwardly.
You reach to grab the bouquet with two hands, and your fingers brush his hand lightly. You stare down at the flowers in your hands and look back up at Taehyung, heâs looking back at you with a soft worried smile. You blink a couple of times, trying to process what the hell is going on.
This is a lot to grasp before you even had your coffee.
Eventually you somehow come back to your senses, or some of it, and you manage to stutter a quiet, ât-thanks.â While you lay the flowers down on your desk.
Taehyung then place one of the cups in front of you, âI also brought coffee, itâs fucking freezing already,â he chuckle a little, but it sounds nervous.
You nod as you wrap your fingers around the cup, enjoying how it warms them.
You rotate it in your hands, inspecting the label. Itâs not from the lousy coffee cart in the lobby. This is from the nice specialty coffee shop thatâs a ten-minute walk from the office.
You take a small sip and - obviously - itâs fucking amazing.
"I hope I got your order right," he says with a tiny smile.
You nod again, and a small smile creeps onto your face, answering for you.
You look into each other's eyes for a few short moments, not knowing what to say.
Taehyung inhales deeply before he starts talking, âThis is my way of saying Iâm sorry for being a jerk.â
He sighs, âI really am sorry y/n. I acted like an idiot. I donât want to do that anymore.â
âI know,â you say quietly. âThings got⊠messy.â
He nods immediately, a little too fast. âYeah. They did.â
You look down and you say in a quiet voice, almost a whisper, âI didnât mean it to get there too.â
âI know,â he says quietly.
âI donât expect things to justââ he stops himself, exhales through his nose. âI donât expect anything, actually.â He rubs the back of his neck, eyes flicking briefly to you then back down. âI just wanted to⊠fix that.â He gesture between the two of you. âOr at least stop making it worse.â
That.
It.
Vague words for a vague situation.
The thing between you.
Not something.
But not quite nothing, either.
Because if it was, there was nothing to fix. Nothing to make you feel so bad for the last few weeks. There was nothing to keep you up all night, taking up your phone and putting it back down repeatedly after he helped you on Friday.
âI want that to,â you say, a small smile snicks to your lips. You hesitate, then shrug lightly. âI missed you.â
That earns you a small, genuine smile. Not the charming one, itâs simpler, boyish.
âI missed you too,â he says, just as softly.
He clears his throat. âI thought maybe we could⊠start over. As friends.â The word comes out deliberate.
You nod slowly. âFriends,â you echo.
But when your eyes meet, itâs clear neither of you means it the same way you did before.
You lift the coffee cup slightly. âThis helps,â you say, attempting a lighter tone. âBoth the coffee and the apology.â
He huffs out a quiet laugh. âGood. I was worried youâd toss it in my face.â
âNever.â You smile at that. âItâd be a waste of caffeine.â It feels familiar. Comforting.
He shifts his weight, glancing toward the door. âI should probably let you work,â he says, though he doesnât move right away.
âYeah,â you agree. âYou should.â
Still, neither of you does anything for a second too long.
When he finally turns to leave, he pauses at the door, hand on the handle. âIf it gets cold⊠Or something,â he says, looking back, âlet me know. I owe you at least one more coffee.â
Your lips curve upward. âIâll keep that in mind.â
He nods once, then leaves.
You stare at the closed door for a moment before exhaling.
Friends.
Sure.
Friday October 26th
The living room feels almost crowded, even with just four people in it.
Beer bottles and controllers are thrown around.
Jimin is half lying on the couch, as Taehyung is sitting on his feet at its corner.
Jungkook is sprawled on the floor, as always.
And Namjoon is sitting on the other side of the coffee table, telling them something about Gabby. Obviously.
They tease him that itâs the only thing he talks about these days, and he always blushes in response.
He had never seen him like that.
So what if heâs obsessed with his girlfriend? He should be.
And Taehyung loves love.
Well, he used to. Until it slapped him in the face. Over and over again.
But that doesnât matter now.
The mood is light. They didnât have a guysâ night in ages.
This is nice. It feels just like what Taehyung needed.
Namjoonâs phone lights up again on the table. He doesnât even check it before smiling.
âOh my god,â Jimin groans. âIs that her again?â
Namjoon doesnât deny it. He just shrugs, a little sheepish.
Jungkook gags dramatically from the floor. âThis is disgusting.â
âItâs called being in love, you moron,â Namjoon says, unfazed.
âYeah, yeah,â Jimin waves him off. âWe get it. Youâre obsessed.â
Taehyung watches the exchange with a faint smile. Itâs weirdly nice, seeing Namjoon like this. Soft around the edges.
He loves love.
When it works.
Itâs his phone's turn to buzz.
He quickly replies, doesnât even notice when all eyes are on him.
âWhat are you smiling for?â Jimin teases.
Taehuyng's head snaps up. âOh, itâs nothing,â he mumbles.
âItâs Y/n,â Jungkook says, evenly. Without an ounce of hesitation.
Jimin and Namjoon laugh.
âOh fuck off,â he grumbles.
âWhat are you even texting on Friday night?â Jimin just has to stick his nose. âAre you sexting?â he wiggles his brows.
âIâll kill you,â Taehyung glares at him.
âLook at you all blushing and angry,â Jimin burst laughing.
âAt least itâs better than when he was grumpy,â Jungkook laughs.
âWhen will you two idiots fuck already and salvage us all from this torture?â Jimin asks, dramatically.
âTechnically, they did fuck,â Jungkook says as he laughs.
âWhat?! When?!â
Jimin looks at him in total shock, and Namjoon looks more guilty. Jungkook just laughs hysterically.
Taehyung grunts, throwing a pillow at Jungkook.
Jimin looks around, like heâs the only one left out of the secret.
âCan someone please explain what is going on and why am I the only one not understanding the joke?â
Taehyung exhales, closing his eyes momentarily.
âThere is nothing going on. Itâs just thatâŠ.â he trails off for a moment. âWell, what happened isâŠâ he trails again. Struggles to find the words.
âThey fucked in high school. Once.â Jungkook answers for him.
Taehyung hides his face with his hand, feeling like a punch to the stomach to hear it like that.
Jimin gasps, loudly, lifting his head from the sofa.
âHow am I only hearing about this now? How am I the only one not knowing about this?â
Namjoon, rubbing the back of his neck, looking bashful, âI know from Gabby.â
Which is given. Itâs not like Taehyung cares that he knows. Itâs not a secret.
And it was twelve years ago.
Itâs like⊠whatever.
âWell, I know because Taehyung got pissed out drunk and cried to me about it,â Jungkook says as he laughs.
âThatâs not what happened,â Taehyung grumbles.
âYes, it did. We left a house party because Taehyung was waayyy too drunk, and in a mood..â
â
Jungkook's arm around his shoulders is heavy and hot, but without it, he thinks he might fall to the ground.
Jungkook pulled him out of the house where they were just partying. Taehyung just stopped for a moment to make out on the couch with.. What's her name? Sâ Sophie? Sâ Shirley?
He turned to Jungkook to ask him something⊠what it was?
Ugh.
Anyway.
Jungkook decided to ruin the fun for him and pulled him out. They are walking somewhere, the night air helps a little. But he still sways between nausea and giggles.
âWeâre walking foreverrrrr,â he whines.
âWeâve left not even two minutes ago.â
Jungkook hates him.
Probably. Why would he be so mean to him?
âSit.â Jungkook orders him sternly, slightly pushing him to the bench.
Everything spins all of a sudden. He gags, but nothing comes out.
Taehyungâs leaning forward, head in hands.
âDrink,â Jungkook commands as he pushes a bottle of water into his field of view.
Where did he pull this from?
âDid you pull this out of your ass?â He laughs, but Jungkook only gives him an unimpressed look.
Oh, he definitely hates him.
â
âI wasnât in a mood.â Taehyung tries to protest.
âYes, you were,â Jungook continues. âAnyway, he was acting weird. Getting super drunk. Like five times in two-weeks span.â
âWe were 18! We got drunk all the time,â Taehyung intercepts.
âYou werenât. Not like that.â And he gives him a look. Taehyung doesnât have an argument in return; he just deflates back into the couch, and he feels himself pouting.
And Jungkook sees it as a sign to continue. âSo I was saying â I knew something was off with him. But he obviously gave me shit about it, ânothing is going on.â You know Taehyung.â
Everyone laughs.
âOkay, fine. Maybe I was a little grumpy,â Taehyung admits as he fights a smile, rolling his eyes as the smile slips out anyway.
â
Taehyung squints up at the sky, the bench cold even through his jeans. The streetlight flickers like itâs about to die. Blinding him, making him dizzy again. He tries to inhale slowly, to move past that nausea.
Jungkook crouches in front of him, way too close.
âYouâre gonna puke?â he asks.
âNo,â Taehyung says immediately, then pauses. ââŠMaybe.â
Jungkook sighs, exasperated. âYouâre such a liar.â
Taehyung laughs at that. It bubbles out of him, too loud, too sudden, and then - just as fast - it disappears. He swallows, throat tight.
âI hate parties,â he mutters.
âYou love parties,â Jungkook says. âDrink some more water.â
He takes a small sip, reluctantly.
âI love not feeling,â Taehyung corrects, waving vaguely at his chest. His head feels full of static noise. Everything feels overwhelming and stupid at the same time.
Jungkook watches him for a second longer than necessary. Brows frown.
âDid something happen?â he asks, quieter now.
Taehyung opens his mouth. Closes it.
âNo,â he says, kind of defeated.
Then, because alcohol brain is a traitor, âI donât know.â
â
The laughter dies down naturally.
Heâs not sure if itâs because they know how deep it is for him. If they sense the mud he's sinking into.
Taehyung reaches for his beer but doesnât drink it. Just turns the bottle slowly between his palms.
âI was a mess back then,â he says, like heâs saying it to himself, not looking up at anyone in particular.
Jimin snorts. âYou still are.â
Taehyung kicks at his leg. âYouâre one to talk.â
And everyone laughs again. And it unravels the knot in his chest just a bit more.
â
Taehyung drags a hand down his face, elbows on his knees.
Jungkook shifts, sitting back on his heels. âYou donât have to tell me,â he says, and somehow that makes it worse.
He stares at the pavement like it might give him answers. The words pile up in his throat, heavy and clumsy. Making him more nauseous than he was.
âI slept with her,â he blurts.
Jungkook blinks. âWho?â
He leans back against the bench, head tipping up, eyes squeezed shut, exhaling into the sky. Then, inhaling, embracing himself, like saying it out loud, will make it more real than it already is.
âY/n,â he says finally. Quieter.
Jungkook stills.
âOh,â he says.
âYeah.â Taehyung swallows. His throat feels raw, like heâs been screaming even though he hasnât.
âWhen?â he asks, pushing himself up to sit on the bench next to him.
âMarkâs party.â
âWhy havenât you told me?â he asks gently, not accusative. Like heâs worried.
Taehyung doesn't know what you say. He doesnât know himself.
Why?
Why haven't he told him?
Why did it happen?
Why did he let it go this far?
Why is he a coward?
âHow did it happen?â he asks when Taehyung doesn't say anything.
He sighs. âI walked her home that night.â
âYeah, I know that. And I asked you after how it was and you said nothing.â Jungkook says as he waits for him to continue, but he needs a moment to breathe.
He nods, feeling guilty. He canât do anything just right.
âI kissed her.â He confesses, and somehow it feels heavier than telling him he slept with you.
âWhy?â Jungkook asks, and then quickly adds, âWell, I know why. But why now, all of a sudden?â
âI just.. I donât know,â he looks down, playing with a loose thread of his jeans. âIt felt like if I didnât do it now, Iâd miss my last chance. I panicked.â
Jungkook hums, âHave you told her how you feel?â
Taehyung shakes his head, finger curling the thread tightly around his fingertip.
Jungkook makes a sound, and he doesn't need to look up at him to know he makes a face as well. âSo how did you go from kissing her to fucking?â
âIt wasnât like that! I wasnât fucking her!â Taehyung blurts quickly, head snaps up, defensive, like Jungkook hit a nerve he didnât fully realized existed.
It makes his head throb.
Jungkook looks at him with a crooked brow, like heâs not getting why all the fuss is about. âOkay.. so how did it happen?â
âWe got to her house, and I didnât know what to do. I kissed her. And I swear, I didnât plan for it to go this far. I was just feeling like kissing her. It felt right at the moment. And she kissed me back. And one thing led to another. And I donât know⊠She invited me in anââ
âShe initiated it?!â Jungkook interrupts.
Taehyung nods, even with all the mess, a small smile snicks to his face. Because he didnât look at it like that, until now.
âOkay, go on. She invited you in and?â Jungkook urges him to continue.
âAnd thatâs it. I came inside and.. You know..â he feels his cheeks heat up despite himself.
âWas it good?â Jungkook asks, without an ounce of shame.
Taehyung bites down on his bottom lip as he nods.
âIt was her first,â he adds, not sure why. But he knows it somehow makes him feel worse.
Jungkook responds with an âOh.â
âYeah,â he returns.
â
âSo you had sex once, and then havenât seen or talked with each other for the past 12 years? Until a few months ago?â Jimin asks, incredulous.
Taehyung nods.
âHeâs an idiot,â Jungkook adds.
âHe was eighteen, we all were idiots at that age,â Namjoos adds some mercy.
Taehyung doesnât even argue. He just shrugs, nods.
âWell, I get it now, at least. Why youâre so weird about her,â Jimin says.
âIâm not weird about her,â he pouts and frowns.
âYou so are, bro,â Namjoom adds with a small chuckle, âYouâre so weird I didnât even know if I could mention that I know about what happened.â
Taehyung scoffs, leaning back into the couch. âYou couldâve mentioned it.â
Namjoon winces slightly. âCould I?â he cocks a brow, âEvery time her name come up, you look like you're having a mini stroke.â
Jimin hums, pointing out, âYeah, you do that thing.â
âWhat thing?â Taehyung asks immediately.
Jungkook snorts. âSee? That thing.â
Taehyung opens his mouth to argue, then stops. Closes it again. He hates that theyâre right.
âI just didnât want it to be⊠a thing,â he says finally. âWhen I donât know if it could ever be.. a thing.â
Jimin drums his fingers against his knee. âAnd now?â
Taehyung shrugs. âNow itâs complicated.â
âComplicated doesnât mean doomed,â Namjoon adds with his mentoring tone, and he takes a sip from his bottle.
Taehyung lets out a quiet laugh. âEasy for you to say. Your and Gabby's relationship is the easiest Iâve ever seen.â And at least Namjoon has the decency to blush as he smiles.
âIâm still shocked Iâm the only one who didnât know,â Jimin adds, shaking his head. âI thought I knew all your exes and all your crazy girl stories.â
Taehyung snorts. âThatâs because this one wasnât a story.â
Jungkook groans. âOh my god, donât start.â
âIâm not,â Taehyung says quickly, holding up his hands. âIâm just sayingââ
Jimin cuts him off. âNope. Weâre done. Just kiss her and give us all a break.â
Namjoon laughs, raising his bottle. âAgreed.â
âI think we all do.â Jungkook grabs his controller, moving on to start a game.
Taehyung relaxes back into the couch, the weight in his chest easing just a bit as the noise fills the room again.
this blog contains writing for 18+ audiences with mature themes. reader discretion is advised.
all writing shared on this blog is jungkook-focused and my own, original work! copying, reposting and/or translating any of my works is prohibited and such actions will not be tolerated. my work is only available on Tumblr. (fyi before reading)
AT YOUR SERVICE â± biker!jk. 24.7k (ongoing)
âžâž You lied about having a boyfriend at your high reunion. Now, you get kicked out from your apartment and have to move back home. On your way home, you run into your childhood best friend that you hadnât seen for 9 years. He, of course, knows that you lied about being taken and luckily, is at your service.
ALLâS FAIR â± sevenvices!jk. 7.5k
âžâž You were never greedy. What you had was always âgood enoughâ and you always just settled. But after years of routine and a mundane social life, you begin to want more. And one wish on your birthday brings him to you.
MINIS COLLECTION
LATE NIGHT OVERTIME â± ex-boyfriend!jk. 2.3k
âžâž Everyone had a date for Valentineâs Day and the night before, you were stuck working overtime at the bakery. It didnât matter because you didnât even have someone to spend it with. But of course, just when you thought youâd get some alone time, he had to show up and you were forced to spend this late night overtime shift with him.
JOYRIDE â± next-door neighbor!jk. 1.1k
âžâž Your next-door neighbor shows up on his motorcycle, asking you if you want to go for ride. You agree, not knowing it would be a joyride.
Warnings: sex with your ex, established relationship, mafia jeongguk if you squint really hard, guns, drinking, vaping, oral - male receiving, creampie, unprotected sex, dirty talk kind of, consensual rough sex, cock warming, possessive jeongguk, controlling jeongguk, toxic relationships, slight aftercare, pillow talk, once again me telling reader to stop playing with this man and just give in
Word count: 19,717
Summary: Three weeks of radio silence since you last saw Jeongguk. Who cracks first?
Cross posted on AO3
My wattpad
My Twitter
Other work: Make Me Water - JiKook x Reader
I Got Ways - Part 1
***Ask and you shall receive. This is part 2 for those who asked. It was all over the place but again, my writing style is just being a mess. I'm sorry. Also, if you're a John Wick fan, I hope you notice some of the references I used in this. ***
Inspired by:
Three Weeks.Â
Three fucking weeks. 21 days.Â
Not that you were counting. Okay, you absolutely were.
It had been three weeks since you last saw Jeongguk. Three weeks since you answered one of his texts with more than a single word. Three weeks since that night you were in his apartment. Three weeks since you looked him dead in the eye and told him that wanting you back wasn't the same as knowing how to keep you. Three weeks since you let him ravage you right on the middle of his couch.Â
Three weeks since he followed you on his bike into the night.Â
And for once? Jeongguk listened. He didnât call your phone a hundred times in a row knowing you would never answer. Didnât randomly show up to your apartment or workplace. No late night messages that somehow always arrived exactly when you were thinking about him.
The silence should have felt peaceful. Instead, it felt wrong. Your mind felt like a city during a power outage. Quiet. Empty. And way too fucking noticeable. Which was exactly why you found yourself standing outside a bar called The 7 Devils at 11:30 on a Friday night. Alone.
The lights on the fading signage flickered and winked at you overhead. It didnât look like trouble at first glance. That was deliberate. Half the letters were burnt out. The 7 glowed brighter than the rest of the words like a warning. The building itself sat wedged between abandoned businesses. It was the only place on the strip that still had patrons.Â
To the rest of the city, it was just an exclusive bar that managed to stay open for God knows what reason. But to the people who knew better, it was a front for the mysterious Haegeum Network.
Haegeum meaning breaking rules. Haegeum meaning lifting bans. Haegeum meaning an empire built on the idea that laws only mattered if you were weak enough to follow them.
The place was built with black stone exterior. Polished like it had been carved from something expensive. Warm purple lights spilled through floor to ceiling glass. Soft enough to feel inviting. Controlled enough to feel intentional. No music bleeding into the street. No obvious warnings. Simply quiet luxury.
The kind of quiet luxury that only existed when someone powerful decided it should because everyone in the city knew what The 7 Devils really was.
Nothing about The Haegeum Network was ever obvious. Official records listed the entity as a private hospitality venture. Some vague investment under half a dozen shell companies that changed names whenever scrutiny got too close.
However, no one who mattered believed that version. The Haegeum Network didnât announce ownership. They demonstrated it. In places like this. In the way the entire city seemed to subtly rearrange itself around that name without ever saying it out loud.
And Jeongguk was always there. Not publicly or predictably. And never officially confirmed. Yet often enough that pretending it was coincidence would have been insulting.
There were patterns people noticed if they paid attention. And Jeongguk had a way of appearing wherever Haegeum Networkâs influence ran deepest. He didnât just move through their world⊠He belonged to it.
You didnât let yourself linger on that thought though. Not tonight because somewhere inside The 7 Devils, Jeon Jeongguk was sitting at the center of it all. And Jeongguk was the person you were here to see.Â
You adjusted the hem of your dress that barely covered your ass and stared at the entrance. The bouncer by the door recognized you instantly. His eyes widening just slightly not because you were new here. You had been here far too many times to be unrecognizable. You used to show up to the doors of this bar hanging off Jeonggukâs arm too many times to count. You were a loved and welcomed name in this bar. And then⊠you disappeared. Poof! Out of thin air.Â
You failed to realize the bouncer was staring you down in shock not because he didnât recognize you but more because you were actually fucking alive and not dead in an umarked grave like the rest of the bar workers thought.Â
See, the workers at 7 Devils had witnessed many women come and go from this place but you were their favourite. You were nicer than some of the bitches that walked into this joint. Unsuspecting. Innocent. You didnât stick your nose up into the air and act like you owned the place because a rich boss put a diamond watch on your wrist. Nah. You had class.Â
Everyone at The 7 Devils adored you for that. You remembered names. Asked the bartenders how their families were. Brought food for the staff just because. Thanked the bouncers every time they opened the door, even though they would straighten up the second they saw you.
You smiled at everyone like they were worth knowing.Â
When customers whispered about Jeongguk, you would roll your eyes and say, "He's not that scary." When people warned you he was dangerous, you would laugh and say, "He's sweet once you get to know him." When people referred to him by the nickname he went by within the walls of this bar, you would simply shake your head and correct them, âItâs Jeongguk!âÂ
The entire bar would go silent and look at you as if you had three fucking heads because maybe Jeongguk was only not that bad or sweet to you. Nobody got the version of Jeongguk that kissed your waist and eased your mind. Or the Jungkook that carried your heels when your feet hurt. Or sat through three hours of watching some boring ass chick flick without complaining.Â
Everyone working for The Haegeum Network got short answers from him instead. Sly remarks. Or simply no words at all. Only side eyes sharp enough to cut a man without a knife. And a quick tongue that was always ready to quip back insults. But he wasnât that way with you. Never you. You saw the best in people. Especially Jeongguk. And everyone hated that they loved you for it because in a place built on secrets and violence, you were painfully ordinary. Down to earth. Good.
The kind of person who rescued a stray cat in the alley one night and cried until someone found a vet. The kind of person who would forgive a man before he even apologized. The kind of person who loved Jeon Jeongguk without ever asking what he did to deserve the fear in everyone's eyes.
And maybe that was your greatest strength.Â
Or maybe it was always going to be your downfall.
You wore the title of being Jeonggukâs woman with pride. And loyal to a fault, too. The kind of loyal that made people ache. Like a damn dog. And to be frank, you were also sexier than the mob wives there that pumped their faces and tits full of silicone and stuck their french tipped manicures in bartenders faces demanding more of the white shit they stuck up their noses. More dirty martinis. More, more, more.Â
You werenât ungrateful to be in the space you were in. Nor where you snooty about the lifestyle Jeongguk gave you. You were real. Even though you had no idea just exactly who Jeon Jeongguk truly was.Â
You never asked Jeongguk what he did for The Haegeum Network. Not really. You asked the easy questions. Long day? You eating properly? Why do you smell like smoke?Â
And Jeongguk always had a good enough answer. Meetings. Business. A fight broke out at the bar. Someone owed money. Good enough for you anyways since you accepted every excuse he gave you because⊠well, it was Jeon Jeongguk. The man who kissed your forehead before you went to sleep. Who tucked you against his chest when thunderstorms kept you awake. Who bought your favourite snacks without asking and pretended he didn't know what you liked by heart.
You looked at him and saw gentleness. Commitment. Sheer will. A man who loved so fiercely it bordered on obsession. You never stopped to ask yourself what kind of person survived inside The Haegeum Network while keeping his hands clean.Â
Maybe you didn't want to know. Maybe you created a facade for him in your head on your own. One that was safer than accepting the reality of who he truly was. He was a bouncer? The muscles in the bar that threw out rowdy patrons when things got too crazy? Those measly suggestions didnât make sense because there were signs Jeongguk was more than just that.Â
You knew there was always something different about him. Dark. Brooding. Menacing.Â
There was also the fact that nobody ever touched you too. Not once. Not in bars. Not on the street. Not even after your breakup either. You thought it was respect. Thought people remembered you were Jeongguk's ex and didn't want trouble. You never considered they might just be afraid.Â
You remembered one night asking him why everyone looked so nervous around him. He simply laughed then wrapped an arm around your shoulders and said, "Cuzâ Iâm just such a nice guy."
There was not a single fucking hint of truth in his voice but God, did you believe him anyways. You believed everything he said. You naive little shit.Â
You never noticed the blood under his nails because he washed his hands before touching you. Never questioned why his clothes disappeared into the laundry basket before dawn. Never wondered why he kept that one room in his apartment locked away and never took you near it.
He shielded you from every ugly part of himself and you let him because loving Jeongguk was easy. Understanding him? That would have broken your heart. So instead, you loved him in pieces. In the soft smiles. The sleepy eyes. The tattooed hands that held your face like you were something precious.Â
You ignored the silences. Ignored the violence simmering beneath his skin. Ignored the fact that people in organizations like Haegeum didn't rise because they were charming. They rose because they were feared. And Jeon Jeongguk⊠your Jeongguk was feared by everyone.
Everyone except you.
Sometimes you wonder if he hated that. Or if he loved you more for it.
Even now while standing outside The 7 Devils, staring at the door he disappeared behind night after night the thought didnât cross your mind. Not once. Instead, you were standing there wondering if he finally moved on. If he'll ignore you when he sees you. Or if he'll look at your dress and regret letting you slip out of his hold once again.Â
It never occurred to you that the man on the other side of those doors has taken lives.Â
That there are people in this city who pray never to hear his name.Â
That when he followed your cab for those few minutes three weeks ago on his bike with his helmet hiding his face. Silent and deadly. Engine revving in warning for anyone that could have been following. He wasn't making sure you got home. He was making sure nobody else touched you.
The worst part of it all was that if you knew the truth, you probably wouldnât stop loving him.
Not even if you tried.Â
The bartender had his eyes glued to your face in surprise because the longstanding gossip amongst the workers at the bar was that The Baba Yaga had orders to take you out. But who was the boogeyman? Nobody fucking knew. Or wanted to know either. The Baba Yaga wasnât Jeongguk. Thatâs for sure. And unfortunately for the eyes and ears working at 7 Devils, Jeongguk was worse than the boogeyman. Far worse.Â
Jeongguk was The Ghost. They called him Gwishin.Â
The one you sent to kill the fucking boogeyman.
He wasnât nicknamed Gwishin because nobody had ever seen him. Everyone had. And everyone looked the other way when that brooding shadow made its presence too.Â
He didnât earn that name because he was handsome either. Even though the Gwishin was tall. Broad shouldered. With black hair falling into dark eyes that never seem surprised. Piercings lining a mouth that was usually set in a straight line. Attractive. Terrifying.Â
They called him Gwishin because nobody knew when he would appear or disappear.Â
One moment he could be sitting in the corner booth of The 7 Devils. Lazily spinning a lighter between tattooed fingers and the next he was gone. No goodbye. No explanation. Just an empty seat and uneasy silence.Â
People lowered their voices when they said his name. Not because he demanded it but because fear did that to people. And then there were the rumors too. That he never misses. That he once crossed three cities in a single night for a job. That men have begged for mercy and only gotten a blank stare in return. That he took out three men in a bar with a pencil. A single fucking pencil.Â
Nobody knew what was true. Nobody asked. Except you. And even then, you always asked the wrong fucking questions anyways. And Jeongguk never answered them truthfully, of course. Instead, he would just pull you closer. Press his nose into your hair. And act as if he held you tight enough, you would never learn why the rest of the city feared him.Â
And time after time, you let him because to everyone else, he's Gwishin. The Ghost. The monster Haegeum unleashed when they needed problems to disappear. But to you he was just Jeongguk. Maybe that's why everyone at The 7 Devils looked at you with pity because they knew something you didnât.
Ghosts weren't meant to be loved.
Yet somehow⊠Gwishin had been haunting only you.
Thatâs why the bouncer was slackjawed and round eyed at the sight of you. Everyone thought you too had become just another figure that passed through the club. Everyone figured you eventually said the wrong thing or saw too much. They thought you became too much of a liability or a curse and for that, the Haegeum had to eliminate one of their most beloved yet unsuspecting members.Â
And yes, you were an unofficial member of The Haegeum Network because the sad reality was, once you had crossed the entrance of the doors to the 7 Devils with Jeongguk all those years ago, you too had become a part of their syndicate. Whether you wanted to be or not. Whether you knew it or not.Â
As for tonight? You didn't come dressed like this for a drink, baby. You came dressed for revenge. You came dressed to scare the Gwishin himself. To show the ghost you were alive and well after 21 days of silence. To show him that you could play his little games too. That you could stand on the edge of his world and bring him to his fucking knees without even stepping into his orbit.Â
The black dress you wore hugged every curve like it had been sewn onto your body. And it was short. So fucking short that all you had to do was bend slightly for it to show off the lacey red thong stuck between your plush ass cheeks. So short that every time you moved, smooth skin glistened whenever the gentle summer breeze caught the fabric.Â
Your heels were so damn high too. Shiny black red bottoms that Jeongguk had picked out just for you a few years ago. They were already hurting the soles of your feet but that was the point because if you played Jeonggukâs twisted game right, you would have them in his back by the end of the night.Â
Pain was temporary but the look on Jeongguk's face when he saw you? Priceless.
You spent an hour on your makeup. Two deciding on the dress. And every second afterward telling yourself this wasn't pathetic. You didnât miss him. You don't want him. You were just trying to prove some fucked up point you created in your head.Â
And you definitely werenât thinking about the way he was on top of you three weeks ago. You werenât remembering his chin buried deep into the crook of your neck that night. Lips at your ear. Teeth dragging over your skin. Rough hands gripping around your body while he whispered, âThis pussy is mine.âÂ
You didnât miss his smile either. Or those tattoos. Or the stupid habit he had of rolling his shirt sleeves to his elbows because he knew exactly what it did to you.Â
You kept telling yourself didnât miss him. You couldnât
So why were you standing frozen outside his bar?
You could feel the vibration of music through the walls. Making your core thump all the way down to the heartbeat throbbing between your thighs already. You could practically feel him in there. The thought of him just sitting at his regular booth. Expression settled in his signature unamused slate. Eyes sharp and focused. It made your spine tingle with a desire far worse than just simple horniness.Â
"Nice to see you again. You going in?" The bouncer asked and you looked up at the glowing sign again. 7 fucking Devils. You used to walk through those doors like you belonged there.Â
You smoothed your hands down your dress. This damn dress. The one that was tighter than anything you would normally wear. You wore it for him, of course. You hated that. Hated that after all this time of pretending you were fine, one night with Jeon Jeongguk could still dictate the clothes on your body.
You swallowed and lifted your chin. Then smiled at the bouncer as you nodded. You werenât nervous. You were furious. If Jeongguk wanted to ignore you? Fine. If he wanted to pretend the two of you never happened? Perfect. You would gladly let him try.
You would walk in looking so good it would ruin his night. Let him choke on his whiskey. Let him stare. Let him remember exactly what he didnât know how to keep.Â
The doors to the 7 Devils loomed in front of you and the bouncer stepped aside. For just a second, his expression softened. As if he knew deep down you were dipping your pinky back into a pond that you once got out of.Â
Either way you squared your shoulders and stepped forward. Tonight, you were not walking in like you belonged. Tonight you were walking in like a fucking threat.
Inside, 7 Devils was exactly what it always is. Leather booths in deep charcoal tones. Marble counters polished to a reflective sheen. Dim lighting that never quite reached the corners of the room. Music low and controlled. Expensive glassware. Expensive suits. Expensive silence between the things people donât say out loud.Â
Everything curated. Everything restrained. Everything just barely covering what sits underneath. Power. And the people who knew exactly how to use it.
Your steps slowed before you even realized it because you felt it already. You felt the way the atmosphere shifted as though the air had recalculated itself. You didnât even have to look far. You already knew where he was. Back section. Corner booth. Same spot as always where sightlines are clean. Where exits are visible. Where nothing happens without him seeing it first. Jeongguk never sat anywhere that wasnât mapped out in his head twice over.
You exhaled slowly, adjusting your dress as you stepped further inside. The bartenders don't greet you. They just watch because they know. Everyone knows. The second you walked through those doors in that dress. With your hair done, lips painted and a look on your face that screamed I don't give a fuck. Everyone knew exactly why you were here.
You were here to piss Jeongguk off. And for the first time in three weeks you were going to win. You didn't even look at him. Not once. You knew he was sitting there with his six other Haegeum members spread around him like a pack of wolves. Those annoying ass ghouls you used to think of as your friends. The entire crew. The entire fucking team of his hooligans as you liked to call them.Â
Sliding into your usual stool at the bar, you refused to look in the direction of the Gwishin. You could feel his stare on you already. But you didnât relent. Without a word, a glass appeared in front of you. You looked down at it and blinked,Â
"I didn't order that." You said.Â
"You never do." The bartender simply shrugged, already turning back to the shelves.
It was your usual. A Cape Codder. Expensive European vodka mixed with cranberry juice. Extra vodka. A slice of lemon. Not too much ice. Exactly how you liked it.
The bartender also set a bowl of pretzels beside your drink and he huffed out, "You lose weight?" He asked casually.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, "You just havenât seen me in a while." Nodding, you picked up your drink and wrapped your lips around the straw sticking out of the top of it and took a sip. Deliberate.Â
He grinned, âThought you wereâ.â He made a motion across his neck as if a knife were cutting there, âYou know.âÂ
âIâm alive and well.â You confirmed with a nod, popping a pretzel into your mouth and chewing. Not because you were hungry. You just need something else to do with your mouth because you could feel the gravity of your ex pulling you towards him.Â
You weren't going to look. That was the whole point. You came here to ruin Jeongguk's night, not your own. Sadly, curiosity is cruel and your eyes flickered toward the booth in the back for half a second as if you couldnât help yourself. And yes, there he was. Sitting there like a menace. Black buttoned shirt with the first few buttons left open to expose his tattooed chest. Sleeves rolled up to display a tattooed arm. One arm stretched lazily across the back of the booth.Â
Interestingly enough, beside him was a woman. Blonde. Leaning a little too close.
Your stomach dropped and you quickly looked away. Absolutely not. You took a long sip out of your drink like you saw nothing. As if your heart didn't just stutter. As if you don't care. You're not giving him the satisfaction. Not when he's already staring. Not when the entire bar has noticed he hasn't taken his eyes off you since you walked in.
You let him sit there with his blonde. Let him wonder if you're jealous.
You would rather die before he saw the jealousy written on your face anyways. Even if the questions already began to burn in the back of your mind. Who the fuck is she? How do they know each other? Are they fucking?Â
You didnât even know if she's pretty. You didnât even know what she was wearing. You didnât know if she was touching him. You kept your head forward. Eyes on the bartender speaking because you were not giving that piece of shit the luxury anymore.Â
If he wanted your attention, he can choke on not having it.
So, you kept your eyes trained on the expensive array of alcohol lining the shelves behind the bar. Even when the music seemed to dull. Even when conversations faltered. Even when you could practically feel his stare burning into the side of your face. You instead smiled at the bartender and laughed at his joke which wasn't even that funny.
All while pretending Jeon Jeongguk didnât exist.
Meanwhile the clown hadnât stopped staring since the moment you walked in. The blonde woman stopped existing to him thirty seconds ago. None of the other Haegeum members had touched their drinks. They were all waiting.
Waiting for you to look at him. Waiting for him to snap. Waiting for something. Waiting for some drama to unfold.
But you? Youâre a G. You took another slow sip of your drink. Popped another pretzel between your lips. And smiled because for three weeks you were the girl who missed him. You were the girl watching your phone like a hawk to see if he would text you. You were the ex. Tonight⊠he got to be the ex. The one watching. The one waiting. The one wondering what the fuck you were doing here.Â
And you hope it drove him fucking insane.
The blonde beside Jeongguk had been talking for the last five minutes. Maybe longer. He had no idea anymore. Jeongguk wasnât listening. He was halfway through the dark whiskey in his glass. Pretending to care while the other six men of Haegeum at the table conversed around him like their voices werenât just background noise in a life that stopped making sense three weeks ago.
Then someone laughed at something he didnât hear and his eyes drifted like they always did. To you. Seated in that spot like nothing ever happened. As if you didnât walk in here looking like you were planted on this earthly plane just to drive Jeongguk up the walls. As if you didnât walk into the bar with the intention to carve his chest wide open, take his heart out and leave him breathing through it all.
He watched you over the rim of his glass. Black dress. Bare legs. Lips painted red. A drink already in front of you. Condensation sliding down the glass. You smiled at something the bartender said. A soft laugh followed. Easy. Natural. As though you belonged to that side of the room now. As though you didnât belong to him anymore.
Jeonggukâs fingers tightened around his glass. The whiskey suddenly tasted like metal.
You hadnât even looked at him. Not once. Not when you took your first sip of your drink. Not when you leaned in slightly to hear the bartender better. Not even when the room tilted the way it always did when Jeongguk was present and people started noticing who was paying attention to who.
You gave him absolutely nothing.
You just sat there. Calm. Distant. Sipping the red in your glass like you had never known the weight of Jeonggukâs hands on your waist. As if three weeks ago, you werenât pulled apart and put back together by him right on his couch.Â
The blonde said something again. His name, maybe. He didnât respond. He actually wanted to tell her to shut up instead. At his right, one of his men glanced over and went quiet. The hooligans have seen this before. That stillness in Jeongguk. That focus. That problem.
Gwishin doesnât blink. Doesnât breathe right. He just watches because itâs you. Itâs been weeks. Weeks since he last let himself touch you like it meant something instead of everything.
And of course, you pop back up into his life again oh so casually. In his bar. Drinking. Laughing. Acting like he was nothing but just another man in the room.
One of the Haegeum members leaned back, exhaling a low whistle, âNice to see the 귞늌ì (shadow) is back.â He muttered.Â
Another one smirked from across the table, âI missed seeing your shadow⊠She looks like trouble though.â
The nickname bounced off the thoughts in Jeonggukâs head. 귞늌ì... Shadow.
Haegeum didnât choose that name for you because you followed Gwishin.Â
It was because he couldnât escape you.Â
You existed in every corner of his life.
In the properties he owned. In the music he listened to. In the habits he couldnât break. In the silence he tried to keep for three weeks and failed.
The Ghost watched you like a man watching his own fate unfold. And in the pit of his soul, the nickname felt less like teasing. More truthful. You were his 귞늌ì.
Not a burden. Not a weakness. But a presence. Always behind him.Â
Everyone in Haegeum knew who you were to Gwishin. Except Jeongguk himself. He stomped that part of himself away because if the Ghost ever admitted he had a shadow, he would have to admit he was never walking alone at all.
You never knew they called you that. Not once. Not through the years. Not through the breakup because Haegeum never used real names when they spoke about people like you.
Everything was code. Everything was protocol. It made business easier that way. Cleaner. Safer. You only ever heard fragments of the nickname. You never realized the name had meant something else entirely. A label. A quiet agreement between men who had watched the Ghost lose control of himself over one single person too many times.Â
His 귞늌ì.
As if you were something The Haegeum Network couldnât quite name in full light. Something that only existed properly when Jeongguk was in the room too.
Jeongguk didnât answer the clowns sitting around him. They simply didnât understand. You werenât trouble. You were ruin. And you were sitting ten meters away from him like you didnât remember how to destroy him. His grip on the glass tightened until it ached within his palm because he didnât hate that you came. He hated that you were fine. Hated that he was the one falling apart in a room full of people who believed he was still in control.
Across the bar, you lifted your glass to your lips. Casual and composed. Almost as if nothing in the world has shifted since you walked through those doors. As if you arenât aware Jeonggukâs watching. Then three soft strikes of your nails hit against the glass.Â
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Jeongguk felt it before he even fully processed it. It wasn't just sound. It was a pattern. His entire body froze and he felt as if something inside him had gone taut all at once. That rhythm wasnât new. It wasnât nerves. And it sure as hell wasnât accidental. It was intentional.
Your fingers didnât move away from the glass. They stayed there and your acrylics tapped over it again. Jeongguk already figured out what it was before anything else. It was a signal. Your signature. You werenât doing it for yourself. You were doing it for him.Â
He watched you take another sip of your drink like the room didnât matter. Like time didnât bend around attention the way it always has when he was near. You werenât trying to be seen. You werenât trying to be hidden. You were trying to be noticed. On purpose. By him.Â
Each three tap sequence landed like a reminder carved into air. You donât get to unsee me.
It wasnât about reassurance. It was about permanence. You were not fading into the background of his life. You were refusing to. Those three taps said the same thing without you ever looking at him. Iâm your shadow. And I always will be.
Jeongguk noticed movement before anyone spoke. A chair scraping back somewhere behind you. A presence moving through the room like it didnât need permission to take up that amount of space.
You didnât look up right away. That was the first mistake most people would make. You just swirled your drink unbothered. As if you already knew someone was coming. Then the shadow fell across your table. And he was fucking huge. Who the fuck hired him?Â
The thing. Yesâ thing because no man should be that ginormous⊠wasnât just tall. He was built in a way that made the air around him feel smaller. Shoulders too wide for the tailored jacket he was wearing. Expression knifed out of something blank and uninviting. He was one of the lesser seen Haegeum Network members. Standing right beside you with the audacity of someone that sat at Jeonggukâs table.Â
Conversations didnât stop so much as they froze mid breath. Jeongguk didnât move a single inch either. Yet his grip on the glass in his hand tightened further until it threatened to give. He watched the stranger say something low to you. Too quiet for anyone else to hear.
You finally looked up and for a second, there was nothing written on your face. No reaction. No fear. No hesitation. You assessed the man. Deciding what kind of moment this is going to be. Then slowly, you tilted your head and smiled.
You responded and said a few words to the thing. Light enough to pass as casual conversation. Strong enough to keep him there. The man didnât leave. Instead, he pulled out the chair across from you and sat. The wood groaned slightly under his weight. And just like that, he took up your space like he belonged there.Â
He ordered you another drink. Slapped a big bill on the table for the bartender and exchanged the tip over to him for the glass of red liquid. He poked a straw into the glass for you and placed it down in front of you. Watching you sip it. How gentlemanly.Â
You didnât look uncomfortable. You didnât even look threatened. You looked⊠engaged. Choosing to entertain him. Curious about what happened next. The man said something again. A faint smirk playing on his lips now. Barely there, but enough.Â
And then you laughed. A real one.Â
Not the fake shit you would pull when you wanted out of a conversation.Â
Jeonggukâs head fucking spinned at the sound.Â
The giant goblin was close enough that the edge of his knee almost brushed the table leg. Close enough that the air between you got heavier without anything being said yet. His eyes didnât leave your face and then he said, loud enough for the entire bar to hear, Â
âYou come here often?â He mused, eyes drifting over your dress as if he was trying to map you out.
Typical. You thought to yourself but a faint smile crossed your lips anyhow and you swirled the straw around in your drink before replying, âDepends on the night.âÂ
âAnd what kind of night is this one?â A knowing smile touched his lips as though he had just found a rhythm.Â
You finally look at the man directly, âWhy?â You questioned.
The words were simple but it stopped him for half a second. Then he leaned in slightly, voice dropping, âCuz Iâm deciding if I should stay.â
The implication hung there. Bold and unhidden. A few nearby conversations died off without anyone admitting they were listening. People sitting at tables close by turned away as if they were interrupting something. The bartender kept wiping the same spot on the table that he had been wiping since the man sat down.Â
You didnât react immediately. Instead, you took your glass within your hand and sipped. Then set it down carefully as if you were buying time, âYouâre already staying.â You purr out quietly.Â
The tone of your voice shifted something in his expression. Not surprise exactly. More like interest sharpening into something more deliberate, âOh?â He questioned. Now fully engaged. Just as you wanted. Leaning in a little more towards you. An elbow on the edge of the table as he looked you over, âYou always this confident with strangers?â
You tilted your head slightly and shrugged, âI donât usually bother with strangers.â You drawled out and then your voice dropped an octave, âBut you didnât introduce yourself like youâre a stranger.â
It wasnât him testing you anymore. It was you acknowledging him. The manâs gaze darkened slightly as if he found something about you he liked, âI didnât think I needed to.â He hummed out.Â
Your fingers rested lightly against the glass again, âYou usually get what you want just by sitting down?â
He simply huffed out a quiet laugh, âUsually.â
âInteresting.â You nodded, eyes drifting with intrigue from his chiseled face down towards his lap. The look wasnât praise or dismissal. It was evaluation.
Thatâs what hooks the man harder than anything else. You werenât yielding. You were measuring.
In the same room, Jeonggukâs entire body went still. Every instinct in him screaming at once. He didnât move. Although he wasnât restrained or anything. Jeonggukâs never been restrained in his life but something about the scene in front of him had locked every instinct in place and turned it inward.
The way you were speaking. The way you were not pulling away. The way you were letting this man get closer in conversation without ever giving him certainty.Â
The man leaned back slightly. Eyes still locked on you like there was something troubling about you that he doesnât want to let go of yet, âYou always this hard to read?â He tuts.Â
A small smile caressed your lips and you leaned over the barâs counter. Letting your cleavage push up against the wooden edge of it, âNo.â You breathed out and then paused before continuing, âMaybe Iâm just like that with people who think they already understand me.â
The man didnât ease back into conversation after that. He watched you differently now. He wasnât a man testing a boundary. He was one that was deciding whether he found something worth taking seriously. He let the silence sit for a moment before he spoke again, quieter this time, âYou wanna get out of here?â
His suggestion felt like a direct line drawn across the table. You didnât react immediately. You just looked at him and weighed the distance, timing and consequence. You take the room itself as part of the equation. Well not so much the room but more so the person in the room burning holes into the side of your face with fury.Â
You tilted your head slightly as if you had to think about it. You had already made your decision the moment he sat down anyways, âOkay.â You hum out with a smile, already grabbing your clutch off the barâs tabletop.Â
There was no hesitation. The manâs expression twinkled briefly as though he expected more resistance or negotiation. But you were already standing. Already smoothing your dress out like nothing about this moment was heavy at all. As if you didnât just turn the entire room into a held breath.
Jeongguk simply watched you pass between tables. Through light. Through sound. Through the exact space where he had been watching you all night without being seen in return. You still didnât look at him. Not even accidentally. Not even a glance. That absence punches him right in the gut.Â
Jeongguk didnât move for a full second after the door closed behind you and the man. It was like his body needed time to catch up to what his eyes already recorded. He couldnât decide what reaction would even mean anything anymore.
Something about the way you walked away fractured something in Jeongguk anyway. He didnât say a single word. Then his glass hit the table too hard. Ice jumped. A few heads turned. He didnât give a fuck. All he saw was the empty space where you were sitting. The space you occupied still holding your shape in his head like a burn imprint. Still warm.Â
His jaw flexed hard enough to crack a tooth and then he looked away. He could feel the vein in his neck thumping as his heart rate surged. Lips pressed together as his tongue poked into the side of his cheek when he tilted his head. Then he spotted you through the glass wall outside.
You were standing outside on the sidewalk with the man beside you. Your hand tiny on the curve of his bicep. Fingers wrapped barely around his humongous arm. He was already too close to you for Jeonggukâs liking but clearly not for yours. Then his hand settled against your back and slid lower. Possessive in a way that wasnât subtle, even from outside the bar. Then he was guiding you forward. A large palm sliding down south. Over your ass. And then he grabbed it. Squeezing over your flesh as if he owned you.Â
Jeonggukâs vision went blood red.Â
And you? You didnât even react. Not even slightly. No flinch. No shift away. No hesitation in your stride. You just started walking like it was normal. As if it meant nothing. As though your body hadnât just accepted proximity from someone who isnât Gwishin.
Jeongguk wasnât used to being absent in a room where you were.
And right now he had never felt more invisible in his life.
The fury bubbling through his veins made his vision sharpen. It doesnât go blurry. It becomes focused instead. Too focused. Like the killer he was. He watched the hand glued to your ass as you both cross the sidewalk, disappearing deeper into the night outside The 7 Devils.
He could feel the moment he snaps and thatâs when he made the decision to follow you. His chair scraped back hard with a violence that finally matched what was building inside him when he stood up.Â
One of his men called after him, but it didn't register because Jeonggukâs mind had already strayed too far away to care. No one else dared to say a word. He didnât look at anyone. Not at his hooligans. Not even at the blonde. His eyes were already on the door.
Already calculating the radius. Already locked onto the fact that you were still in the same world as him, just merely out of sight.
He turned on his heels and headed towards the back of the bar at once. Quick steps. Then faster. Out through the back doors of the bar with one hard swing at the door and into the spill of the night air.Â
It wasnât the fact that you left which led Jeongguk to this decision. It was the fact that you didnât leave with him. You left like he was never part of the decision at all and that is what makes him furious. The control was never in his hands from the moment you stepped through the door. It made Jeonggukâs blood boil.Â
The crisp night air kissed Jeongguk on the cheeks as he made his way down the dimly lit sidewalks outside. Nothing about the cold air on his skin awakened him though. He had been on high alert the moment you graced him with your presence at the bar. He walked slowly in the direction you left in. Sauntering. Footsteps silent on pavement. Cigarette between pierced lips. Lighter flickering at the end. Inhaling deep and puffing slow. Taking his time because following after you now was about making sure you knew that you donât get to disappear from him without being seen doing it.
Jeongguk stopped for half a second just enough to see the vision playing behind his eyes clearly. To confirm what his mind already refused to soften. Thatâs when his decision settled into place not as emotion, but as identity. He thought about the glock tucked into the belt on the back of his pants. Thought about what the man with his hand on your ass would look like on his knees in front of him begging for mercy. It was an enticing vision to say the least.Â
He decided against putting a cap in the manâs head for now. His aim was impeccable and he had a clean shot. He could do it right from where he stood. But where would be the fun in that? Jeongguk was eager to see how this played out and he continued moving. Like the Gwishin he was.Â
Thatâs what he became now. A ghost. Silent. Unseen. Moving through the space between you and everything you thought was safe. He was trailing behind you both. You walked slow enough with the man as if you knew the Ghost was following too. Yet you didnât dare to look back.
The man stayed beside you the whole time, hand still on your ass. There was no resistance from you. No glance over your shoulder. No sign that anything about this walk felt unfamiliar. Jeonggukâs teeth clenched in his jaw because you were not being taken anywhere. Nothing about this was against your will.Â
You were going. On your own feet. On your own terms.
The Ghost didnât stop you. He didnât interrupt. He didnât reveal himself. Not yet anyways. Instead, he changed the distance. Let it widen. Let you disappear around corners for a few seconds at a time. Long enough that anyone else would lose you. Long enough that he almost should but he doesnât because he knows you.
Eventually the manâs hand slipped from your back as you turned down a quieter street closer to your apartment. You just kept walking until you were swallowed by the building line and darkness.
Jeongguk slowed. Stopped. He was no longer following movement. Only memory. A direction. The direction to your apartment. He waited for a full minute. Then turned the other way. Not backtracking. Not searching blindly. Choosing.Â
This wasnât about chasing. It was about confirmation. Moments earlier, he would have called it instinct. Now it felt like something far worse.Â
This is what she wants to do, huh?Â
She wants to fuck another man because I didnât call her three weeks ago?Â
Is this what it was?Â
The thoughts infiltrated his brain as he fumed but he kept walking until he reached your building later than he should have. Later on purpose because if you truly were in there letting another man plow his dick into you, Jeongguk wanted to catch it at the perfect time.Â
There was no urgency in his steps. No noise. Just that looming presence that always meant he had already decided what kind of ending this will have because Gwishin did not lose sight of what he chooses to belong in his world.
The lobby guard at your apartment building gave him a familiar nod. Jeongguk had been here too many times for anyone to question him. He walked up seven flights of stairs. Two at a time. Every floor made his pulse climb higher. By the time he reached your door, he was breathing harder than he should have been. His hand hovered near the doorknob out of habit before he remembered. Right.
He still had the key to your place. You had never asked for it back. Maybe because you forgot. Maybe because neither of you really believed things were over. That thought twisted in his chest as he pulled the key out of his pocket and slid it into the lock.
The apartment was dark except for the kitchen light. Jeongguk stepped inside quietly, shutting the door behind him. He took his shoes off silently by the door and listened. Pin drop silence. No voices. No moaning. No skin slapping. Sharp eyes swept across the dark living room automatically.Â
Your keys, phone and clutch were on the coffee table.Â
No sign of another man.
Relief hit him so fast it almost made him angry.Â
He turned the corner towards the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks because there you were. Sitting on top of the marble counter. Vape at your lips. Six inch red bottoms still on your feet. Legs swinging absentmindedly as if you didnât just lead Jeongguk right into your trap,Â
"Breaking and entering now?" Your tone was sweet but the meaning underneath was sharp, âThatâs new.â You glanced down beside you, hand reaching without urgency. When you brought it back up, there was a can of pepper spray resting loosely in your grip. Held like you were deciding whether it was even worth the effort. You studied the can for a second and then your gaze landed on Jeongguk, âI should call the police, you know.â You added, almost conversational.
His eyes dropped briefly to the pepper spray and then he scoffed under his breath. The breath coming out through his nose. It would take him half a second to cross over to where you were sitting and even faster to rip that can out of your hands and crush it between his fingers. Donât kid yourself,Â
âThat would be unwise I assure you.â Jeongguk spat out. It wasn't a question. His chest was still tight with adrenaline, "I thought that giant fuck was here." He finally admitted. Eyes scanning the apartment anyhow just to make sure the bastard wasnât hiding behind a door.
Your lips parted slightly before curving into a smile. Not mocking. Not exactly kind either, "Jealousy is such an ugly disease, Jeongguk." You purred out, âAnd it's even uglier on you.âÂ
Jeonggukâs eyes didnât wander. They didnât flicker. They stayed locked on you like everything else in the apartment had already been dismissed as irrelevant. His gaze was dark with focus. In a way that recognition sharpened into something dangerous when it stopped trying to hide itself.
There was no shock in him anymore. No confusion. Instead, there was a steady, narrowing attention as if he had finally stopped reacting to the situation and started reading it.
He exhaled once through his nose but the air between you both tightened anyway, âYou talk a lot about jealousy.â He said quietly but his eyes didn't leave yours, âBut youâre not reacting like someone trying to push me away.â He watched you as though he was trying to understand what you were doing to him. The way you sat there like you already knew how this moment ended. His gaze darkened further as it held onto you, âYou think this is jealousy?âÂ
There was something in your eyes that wasnât there before. Excitement. You tilted your head just a fraction, like you were considering him the same way you considered everything else tonight, âI donât think.â You answered him simply, âI observe.â
Your words were accurate enough to be uncomfortable. It was almost insulting.
He huffed out a disgusted scoff and shook his head, "You left with him on purpose."
"And you came to my apartment on purpose." You retorted.Â
Jeongguk had nothing to say instead, his eyes flickered back to yours that were transfixed on him. His gaze dragged over you once. Slowly. Eyes on the short hem of your dress. The tone of your skin. Thick eyeliner over your eyes making you look deadly in the best way possible. The memory of things he didnât want to admit he never forgot played in his mind and then Jeongguk shook his head. Eyes settling back on your face.Â
Tilting your head slightly the opposite way, you answered his question without him needing to ask, "He walked me home."
Jeongguk looked away for a second and his jaw tightened, "So you didnât fuck him."
"No." You crossed your arms loosely over your chest, "You really thought I'd bring some random dickwad over here?" You scoffed, âLove how low you think of me.âÂ
"I didn't know what to think." Jeongguk snapped.Â
"Mmm. You showing up here like this says enough, donât you?" Your gaze dropped briefly to the key still in his hand, "Give me that."
Jeongguk blinked, "What?"
âThe key.â You studied him for a moment longer than before. Really looked at him now. Your gaze dragged over him in a way that wasnât rushed.Â
The black shirt fit him too well. Opened at the collar. Sleeves pushed just slightly out of place. The tattoos on his fingers and wrist caught the light when he moved. Your eyes lingered over the smooth of his chest then continued to the silver chain around his neck. The way it disappeared under fabric like it was hiding from you. His hair was pushed back. Gelled. Controlled. Just like everything else about him that pretended nothing ever touched him unless he allowed it.
Your stare came back up slowly. On his jaw. His mouth. His eyes. Then your voice rang out again, âI want it back.â
Jeongguk didnât move, âYou donât need it back.âÂ
âThat wasnât a suggestion, asshole.â You snarked, âI donât want you having access to my space.â You add quietly, âNot anymore.â
Jeongguk stared at you for a long moment and something in the look of his eyes changed. There was no more anger. Or pride. In his eyes were a loss that he held too tightly to show, âYou mean the space I paid off for you to live bill free in?â He then added with a cocky grin, his gaze refusing to leave yours, âI get it.â He hummed after a moment, âYou need to prove something to me. The effort is kinda cute not gonna lie.â He made a tch sound with his lips and had his eyes glued onto your own as he carefully tucked the key right back into his pocket in front of you.Â
Like hell he was giving that key back to you.Â
You didnât even try to fight for it either. Instead, you just stared at him with a scowl. Neither of you looked away. The space between you both felt even more dangerous now that the door was locked and you were both inside the four walls of your apartment.Â
You didnât move from the counter. Didnât soften your posture. The empty silence between you felt too full now. Locked and loaded with everything neither of you said out loud before this moment.
Your fingers around the pepper spray can in your hand loosened and then you placed it back down onto the counter. Then you spoke, âThree weeks.â You tilted your head, eyes steady on him, âSince I last heard from you. No calls. No texts.â You smiled, âDid you finally give up on being crazy?âÂ
The words sat sharp between you both, like something you had been holding onto long enough to stop it from feeling like a question.Â
Jeongguk didnât interrupt. He didnât even try to defend himself. He just watched you. Trying to figure out in his head which version of this conversation you were going to let him have.
âAnd then you show up like this.â Your gaze doesnât move from his face, âYou donât talk to me for three fucking weeks,â A humorless laugh begins to bubble in your throat, âAnd now you break into my home and act like I did something wrong?â
Jeongguk didnât speak right away because there wasnât an easy answer in the room. Not one that didnât cost him something. And you were watching him for it. Not breaking eye contact. Not giving him space to deflect. Not chasing him. You were making him stand in what he chose.
âWhy did you go there?â His eyes didnât leave your face, âYou donât just show up to The Seven Devils for nothing.â He paused, âAnd you sure as shit donât sit in front of men like that unless you want something to happen.â He pointed at your dress.Â
A smile twitched at the corner of your mouth and you simply wet your lips then placed them at the end of your vape and sucked. Smokey eyes drilling into Jeonggukâs existence and making the tension in his chest flare. You exhaled the smoke through your nose and took a breath, âI just wanted a drink. Donât get it twisted.â Lies. All lies. You knew exactly why you went there.Â
Jeonggukâs voice dropped lower when realization hit him, âWas it just to piss me off?â He exhaled once, âI didnât talk to you for three weeksâŠâ He said in a low voice, âBecause I knew what would happen if I did.â Cherry red lips started to stretch into a menacing smile, âI knew you would crack.âÂ
You matched his smile as your voice came out calmly, âDid I crack?â You heaved a breath. Making yourself sound bored as you leaned back on your hands, âOr was it you?â Your gaze drifted to Jeonggukâs jaw just as it clenched and you belted out a soft laugh, âYou followed me.â You nodded, âYou came here.â One leg lifted slightly and you purposely crossed it over the other. Watching the way Jeonggukâs eyes darted towards the middle of your thighs just as your panties flashed him, âSo tell me,â You murmured, âWho cracked first?â
The silence after your question didnât hang in one place for long. It tightened around Jeonggukâs neck like a noose.Â
His eyes stayed on you when he started moving. Crossing over to where you sat on top of the counter in one fluid move. The anger radiating off him with imaginary steam. You fought to stay composed. Fingers gripping the edge of the counter as he stopped right at the edge of the counterâs reach. He was close enough that you felt his presence more than you could hear it. Close enough that the air between you changed temperature. Becoming heated. Charged with electricity.Â
You just watched him crowd over you like a predator closing in on its prey. Two large palms landed on either side of you hard against the marble countertop. Pressing flat against it as he stood in front of you. He leaned down. Invading your personal space like he owned it.Â
âYou think I cracked?â Jeongguk asked, âYou think I came here because I couldnât hold it together?â His lips pressed together as if he were weighing what to admit and what not to. Then he exhaled, âI came here because I needed to see what the fuck you thought you were doing.âÂ
He was so close the scent of him hit you first. Cigarettes. Marlboro Ice Blast to be exact. The only kind Jeongguk smoked. The scent lingering into the fabric of his clothes and his skin after years of pretending it was just a habit. Then there was the whiskey. Enough to soften the edge of his voice but never enough to dull him because Jeongguk never drank to the point of inhibition. Then the smell of his cologne wafted up to your nose. Awakening your senses. You loathed the way your mind hazed when the scent hit you.Â
You wondered how much he drank. You wondered how many cigarettes he smoked on his way here. You hated that you wondered at all. Your eyes drifted over him again despite trying to look away.Â
Clothes darker than his soul. Hair slicked back to expose his forehead and a shiny barbell pierced through a dark brow. He always spent extra time making sure he looked unaffected. And he always failed because his eyes would always give him away. Brown eyes. Narrowed and dark with fixation. Yet soft like a doeâs at the same time.Â
You swallowed thickly and tried not to make him hear you gulp. It was ridiculous how fast the heat radiated down between your legs just from the proximity of him in your space alone.Â
Three weeks. Three weeks of silence. Three weeks of pretending you didn't wait for a text that never came. And now he was standing in your kitchen smelling like smoke, whiskey, and pure sex. He was fucking handsome. Annoyingly so. Looking at you like he was trying to solve a problem only he created.
Your lips twitched into a teasing smile and incredulously you say, "You look terrible."Â
Jeongguk's eyebrow lifted. The corner of his mouth threatened to do the same. But his eyes⊠Those eyes stayed exactly where they were. On you. He huffed out a breathy laugh and shook his head, âHavenât slept in 21 days.âÂ
His response electrified you more than it should have pissed you all the way off.Â
Jeongguk lifted his hand before he could stop himself. Fingers hovering under your chin and about to close around your throat. He never got the chance because your heeled foot instantly lifted and planted square against the front of his pants in one harsh thud. Right at his crotch. You dug the heel into him. Not hard enough to hurt⊠that much. But enough to stop him right there.Â
Jeongguk froze and you smiled. You didnât look scared in the slightest. You look annoyed. Deeply, genuinely annoyed, "Don't fucking touch me." The words came out like a slap to the face and you pressed your heel forward another inch, forcing him to take a step back.
Jeonggukâs eyes flickered down to your pump. Then back up to you. Confused. Offended. And maybe just a little stunned. Possibly a bit turned on too.Â
"Wash your hands." You sighed, "And maybe your entire existence while you're at it."
"What?"
"Donât know if those fingers were in some blonde bitch for the last three weeks."
You gestured vaguely towards the sink behind you and Jeongguk simply tried to wrack his dumb male brain to figure out what blonde you were talking about. Yes, he already forgot. What else did you expect?Â
The cymbals finally clashed in his head and realization flashed across his face. Then disbelief, "Are you fucking serious?" He rolled his eyes. Then against his better judgment, a laugh chortled out of his lips. A short one. Disbelieving.
"I'm extremely fucking serious, you asshole." Your heel didnât move from his crotch and instead you dug it in deeper, "If you think you can stand there after letting some bitch hang off you all night and then touch me like nothing happened, you're more fucked up than I thought."
âThat was just an associate.â He quipped back quickly. As if he were shutting the assumption down faster than it came up, âA business partner.â He nodded, stepping back towards the sink to wash his hands anyways. Whipped.Â
âOh is that so?â You hummed with no amusement whatsoever.Â
Jeongguk nodded once and the faucet turned on. You turned your head to watch him wash his hands. Watched him lather soap onto his palms. Then watched him scrub thoroughly. Watching the way the stream of water fell over his wrists and tattooed fingers.Â
The sight irritated you more than if he would have argued. Your gaze followed the tattoos stretching over the backs of his fingers. The ink shifting as his fingers flexed beneath the water. He could be so obedient sometimes. Only with you though. And it was so sexy it pissed you clean off.Â
You remembered those hands on you three weeks ago. Those fingers in you. It was a long 21 days of silence. And now the fucker was standing in your kitchen acting like that silence was some noble sacrifice instead of the cruelest thing he had ever done to you.
"You looked pretty comfortable with her." You added nonchalantly. The words slipped out before you could stop them. You werenât planning to let this one go anytime soon. And yes, you were jealous. You werenât going to say it out loud though. Hell could freeze over before you admitted how you truly felt.Â
Jeongguk shut off the faucet and his shoulders tensed slightly. He dried his hands slowly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips before his eyes lowered for a moment then lifted to meet yours as he circled back around to where you sat, âSo, whoâs jealous now?âÂ
The look he gave you was unwavering. You hated when he looked at you like that because you missed it more than you would ever dare to admit. You would rather die than tell him though.Â
âIf thatâs what helps you sleep tonight, sure.â You mused, looking off into the distance at nothing in particular. Heat rising to your cheeks and making you flush with slight embarassment.Â
The thought of you being jealous hit Jeongguk so hard he almost missed the next thing you said. You didnât outright admit it because lord, you would never do that. Not even if someone put a gun to your head. But it was there. Loud and clear. In the way your nose scrunched when you mentioned the blonde. In the disgust dripping from the word bitch. In the fact that you told him not to touch you until he washed his hands.
Whatever he was angry about seemingly diminished because jealousy (to Jeongguk at least) meant you cared. Jealousy meant you watched him too. Jealousy meant all those cold glances at the bar, all those taps against your glass, all those hours pretending he didn't exist were a lie. A beautiful, miserable lie.
Jeongguk thought back to the way you sat there at the bar. Refusing to meet his eyes. Laughing with another man. Leaving without a backward glance. Letting that big fuck grab your ass.Â
He had convinced himself you were done. That you were going to move on. That you didn't care if he lived or died as long as he stayed out of your way. But now⊠he was standing in your kitchen watching you pout because another woman sat too close to him.
He spent three weeks pretending silence was the right decision. Three weeks thinking he was protecting both of you. Three weeks acting like the Gwishin he was.Â
Yet one sentence from you turned him into a fucking idiot.
The moment Jeongguk realized you were jealous, a scarier feeling washed over him. The feeling that you never stopped loving him enough to hate him which was infinitely more dangerous than indifference. Indifference he could survive. This though. This was hope. And the Ghost had always been weakest when it came to you.
Something warm and selfish unfurled in his chest. He hated himself for it instantly. His eyes dropped to your hands folded stubbornly across your chest. Then back to your face and then he instantly closed the space between you both once again without another thought. Trapping you against the countertop. Blocking the kitchenâs ceiling light with his wide frame.Â
He stopped just before touching you because he learned the hard way that you hated people making choices for you. So, he waited for you to finally look at him.
Your eyes lifted slowly from his chest to his face right on queue. Lingering for a heartbeat on the tattoo peeking out from his collar. Then your gaze trailed slowly up to his eyes.
Jeongguk forgot whatever snarky shit he was going to say because you were looking at him like you had been waiting for this. Your eyes were bright with triumph. With something alive and dangerous breaking through the surface of your uncaring facade.Â
All night you had been laying out breadcrumbs just to see if he would follow. And the dumb ass did. All the way here. You knew all along. At the bar when you ignored him. When you laughed with that fuckhead. When you left and didnât look back. You knew exactly what your plan was. And now you were sitting on your kitchen counter looking at him like this. Like you had been waiting for the Ghost to finally show himself.Â
That sultry smile that had been hanging off your lips all night started again. Slowly. Small at first. Then bigger. Pleased. Victorious.Â
Jeonggukâs tongue clicked against his teeth in annoyance. Annoyance because you won. You had him right where you wanted. His lidded eyes traced over your face before settling onto the curve of your lips. And then he whispered, "Guess Iâm the one that cracked after all." His head lowered until his forehead thumped against yours and your eyelids fluttered.Â
Three weeks apart and suddenly the distance between you both felt impossibly small and impossibly large at the same time.
Jeongguk was close enough to see the tiny flecks of light in your eyes. Close enough to notice the way your breathing had changed. Close enough to know that if either of you said one more stupid thing, the moment will shatter.
You shrugged one shoulder. A careless gesture, really. But unfortunately, your eyes betrayed you instantly. They glittered like stars reflected in dark water. Pride. And then you exhaled shakily. The dam of pent up desire breaking and flooding through you at once, âGuess you did.â You whispered and reached up with both hands, cupping Jeonggukâs face and crashing his lips against yours.Â
Jeongguk hesitated for a short second in kissing you back. The hesitation was so unlike him that it embarrassed him. The pause didn't last long though because the moment the softness of your lips pressed against his own, he realized he was a goner.Â
The kiss started small. Tentative. More question than answer.
Three weeks wasnât a long time. Until it is. Until every day stretches and pride becomes heavier than loneliness. Until you convince yourself you don't care. Until he's here. In your home. Close enough to remind you that you were lying all along.Â
The anger didnât disappear. The jealousy didnât fade. All of it was still there. In the way your hand curls under his jaw and pulled him closer. And in the way he paused between your lips slotting together as though he was expecting you to push him away again.Â
Strong arms slid around your waist and next thing you knew, you were being hoisted with perfect ease off the kitchen counter. You grabbed onto thick shoulders. Legs secured around a tiny waist. Eager lips back on his own. Kissing each other stupid as two hands covered over your ass and began walking in the direction to your bedroom,
âKeep those heels on, yeah?â Jeongguk grunted into the kiss. One wide shoulder pushing through the bedroom door and carrying you straight over to your bed because of course he could never forget where your bedroom was.Â
He dropped you onto the bed as if you were as light as a feather. You let out a soft squeak from the impact of your back hitting the bed and then you sat up. Keeping your eyes on Jeongguk as you shimmied your way out of that skin tight dress immediately. Impatiently. As if you simply couldnât wait to rid yourself of the clothing.Â
You could see his pulse moving along the jugular vein on his neck as he watched you undress. It made you feel dangerous. Sexy. Alive. He kept his eyes on you even as you kicked the dress off from around your ankles and heard it land with a smack against the wall across your bedroom as you crawled over to the edge of the bed before laying down on your stomach. Chest heaving as you gazed up at the figure standing at the end of your bed.Â
Black nail polished, fingers were already fixed to the buttons on his shirt. You watched with hooded eyes as he worked the buttons down of his shirt until it splayed open, âFuck.â You purred out, watching those same fingers trail down his chest and then down towards his abs.Â
âYou look hungry, sweetheart.â Jeongguk slurred, fingertips stopping at the silver buckle on the belt of his pants.Â
âStarving.â You corrected, moving so that you were sitting on your knees now in front of Jeongguk and leaning in closer as the chime of a belt undoing clinked through the bedroom.Â
"I'm carrying." Jeongguk announced suddenly when he caught your eyes drift downward as he reached behind his waist and pulled his Glock out from the band of his pants. He set it onto your dresser behind him quickly almost as though he didnât even want you to see it.Â
The sight of the gun made your chest tighten in panic for a second anyways. Your eyes landed on the silver finishing of the gun. Gaze catching his gold engraved initials on it. You didnât question why he was carrying because the unsettling thought of him wanting to use it for any reason tonight crossed your mind.Â
You thought about the man from the bar. The giant who rested his hand on your ass. The one you laughed with just to prove a point. For one awful moment, a thought flashed through your head. Did he think about him on the way here?
You stomped the wonder out of your head before it reached your lips in the form of a question. You didnât let yourself finish the thought. You didnât ask. You never asked questions you weren't prepared to hear the answer to.Â
Gwishin had never been a man whose silence was empty. You knew that better than anyone. So, you lifted your eyes back to his face and he was already watching you as if he expected you to say something.Â
Your gaze drifted back to the weapon on your dresser behind Jeongguk and it was almost as though the machinery was giving you the easy way out. Giving you the option to kick this terror of a man out of your life for good. You didnât take the out because the way he looked at you like he was starving and furious all at once felt as though this wasnât the thing you wanted to fight about.
You already knew there were parts of Gwishin that werenât yours. Parts of him that lived in a cemetery. Parts that you learned a long time ago not to drag into the light unless he offered them himself.
So, you said nothing. If that made you a coward, so be it.Â
Jeongguk simply watched you with a look in his eye that read along the lines of wishing you didn't know him this well. Or perhaps like he wished you didn't know him at all.
But you knew him. And you knew Gwishin too. That's why you didnât say a word because sometimes the most terrifying answers are the ones you already understand on your own.
You reached up and replaced Jeonggukâs hands with yours instead. Popping the button to his pants open and working the zipper down, âFocus on me.â You whispered to him to distract him from the weapon sitting idly on your dresser. Or maybe it was to distract yourself more. Who fucking knew anymore. Nothing made sense when it came to you and Jeongguk. Either way, you hastily pushed the waistband to his pants and boxers down just enough to let his cock spring out. Your mouth watered at the sight and you shifted closer. Whimpering softly when you realized between your thighs felt as if slick were already pooling there.Â
Jeongguk cursed under his breath as the cool air of your bedroom hit the heat of his cock. His jaw flexed and he hadnât realized until now he was clenching his teeth. Almost as if that part of him had a mind of its own, his length jumped when you closed in on him.Â
âYouâre so big. Fuck.â You whispered in awe, eyelashes fluttering as you laid back down on your stomach, mouth opening as Jeongguk took you by the chin with one hand and guided his length to your lips. Your tongue stuck out and your eyes almost crossed when he slapped the head of his cock on it. You moaned instantly and wrapped your lips around it. Sucking him into your mouth.Â
âMm. Nasty.â Jeongguk smirked but didnât stop you. Instead, his hands found their way to your hair. Threading through the locks and pushing the strands away from your face as he gazed down at you, âFuck.â He dropped his head back, making your hair wrap around his wrist while he gave the locks a gentle tug, âFucking love this pretty mouth.â He breathed out, closing his eyes briefly before opening them to look down at you.Â
You stared up at him. Tears already blurring your vision but you couldnât give a single fuck. You tried to fit more of him into your mouth. But it simply wasnât possible. Thatâs how big he was. You gagged trying. Choking yourself slightly and smiling the entire time you did it too. The noises leaving your lips were nothing short of obscene. The sounds of spit. Sucking and this manâs deep ass sighs filling the room.Â
Jeongguk could feel the pit of his stomach clench faster than he wanted it to. But with all the pent up tension slowly unraveling, it was expected. âFuck, youâre so good.â He groaned. His chest rising and falling with each labored breath he inhaled, âCould nut from this alone.â He hummed.Â
You gagged once more in response and then let go of his cock between your lips with a lewd pop. Only to dip your head lower and trail your tongue along the underside of his length. Fingers reaching up to squeeze over his balls. Feeling how heavy they were. The veins on his length twitched over your tongue as you massaged over them with the flicks of your tongue then you hummed as you pulled back to look up at Jeongguk,Â
âGonna cum all over my face, Gwishin?â You looked up at him with pleading eyes, a devious smile along your lips before they wrapped around the top of his leaking dick once again. Your tongue swirled around the head. Then the tip of it dug into the slit. Sucking the precum pooling at the tip.Â
Well, that did it because you never used that name with him unless you were really in the mood to be a slutty brat.Â
Jeongguk grunted and pulled out of your mouth at once. Gripping the base of his cock with his hand. Pumping himself one, two, three times and then he was spilling with a lewd groan. His teeth were trapped over his lower lip but that didnât stop the noises. God, the noises. It was like music to your ears. But even better were the hot ropes of his release spurting out and landing onto your skin. Hitting you on your cheek and lips. Dribbling down your chin all the way to your chest.Â
He couldnât even catch his breath before you were licking your lips and moaning out something about how good he tasted. Jeongguk could barely hear over the ringing in his ears. Your voice sounded like a dull reverb in his ears that were full of blood rushing through them. He panted softly to catch his breath. Dick still hard and raging as if nothing even happened.Â
He had his eyes on you in disbelief but you were already laying on your back and making use of the canvas he painted on you. A finger swiping over your cheek. Then your chin and over your chest. Collecting his release with fascination from the sheer volume of it.Â
You moved the droplets you had collected downwards until your hand was nestled between your thighs. Fingers pushing under the sheer lace of your thong. Cum coated fingers sliding over yourself. Spreading yourself wide and pressing the digits up against your clit. Circling over it and letting out a soft whimper before you dipped your fingers into yourself. The sound of your wetness and his release pushing into you made Jeongguk growl. Literally growl. And then he was climbing onto the bed.Â
He wasted no time. Climbing onto the edge of the bed as you pulled your fingers out of yourself and leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up, scooting your body upwards to make room for him. The fingers that were once inside you were now at your mouth to suck over them as you watched Jeongguk with lidded eyes.Â
Your legs spread unconsciously as he crawled on his hands and knees over to you, âWe taste good.â You mewled, âCome here, baby.â A smile stretched across your lips when Jeongguk finally settled between your thighs. He leaned down towards you and you met him halfway. Slender fingers wrapping around his thick ass neck when you pulled him down to kiss you.Â
âDriving me fucking insane.â Jeongguk gruffed out before his tongue invaded your mouth as if he were on a mission. You let him take control. Swapping spit. Breaths. Tasting the mix of each other off your mouth as your tongues touched. You moaned into his mouth and Jeongguk drank the noises up as his rough hands gripped the skimpy material of your underwear to tug it down and off you in one clean sweep.Â
Your hips lifted on their own to help him get your panties off. Then you watched him ball the thin red lace up into his large palm. Bringing the fabric to his face and pressing his nose into it. Inhaling your scent deep as though he were a druggie trying to get a fix. You almost moaned watching him. Feeling your insides gush with need at the sight.Â
And then you watched the thong disappear in a flash of red across the room. Half a second later, the Ghost was crowding over you again. Blocking everything in your line of sight until you were seeing only him.Â
You had a finger hooked over the silver necklace around his neck next. Bringing him down closer to you as you laid back down. Strong arms planting onto the plush mattress under you. His weight making the bed dip. While his hips pressed down between your spread thighs. Making him feel the heat there between the both of you.Â
Lips were crashing against each other in no time. As though neither of you wanted to let a breath go by without it being shared between the two of you. And as your mouths moved together, you reached up, pushing at the lapels of his shirt that he still had on. Sliding the fabric off rigid shoulders before they got stuck around his massive arms.Â
Jeongguk pulled away from your lips slightly to tug the shirt off him quickly. Letting it crumple onto the corner of your bed then slide off carelessly into a heap on the floor. Working on his pants next until he was rid of any more clothes that could get in the way.Â
Then he was back at your mouth. Ravaging you with his own until you were gripping over his shoulders with both hands. His lips dipped lower. Trapping the hard bud of your nipple with his teeth before dragging his tongue over it agonizingly slow. Your back arched up towards his mouth for more as he did the same to the other breast. And then your thigh hooked around his waist with your heel digging into his bare skin. He hissed at the feeling only to reach behind him to press the heel of your shoe into him more.Â
And finally with all the strength you could muster. You pushed him over. Rolling the both of you until Jeongguk was lying flat on his back and you were on top of him. You planted your hands on top of his wide ass chest. Pointy nails digging into firm flesh, âWanna ride you.â You whispered, pressing your pussy down onto his thick length. Grounding yourself over him shamelessly.Â
The smug fucker simply smiled and tucked an arm behind his head. Freehand resting over your hip as you slid your wet core over his rigid length. The heat between the both of you burned hotter than a thousand suns. And your clit dragging over the heaviness of his cock only made coils twist and turn in the pit of your stomach.Â
âFuck, whatâs happening with you tonight?â He whispered breathlessly, âYouâre gonna take the life out of me.â He chuckled, dark eyes caught on the curve of your breasts as you sat up properly and took his hand that was over your hip, guiding it up to the base of your neck,Â
âYou happened to me.â You confessed with a soft whine as he gripped the base of your neck gently, âYou made me like this.â Your vision blurred when your clit ran over the throb of his length again and without any hesitation, you lifted yourself up and reached down between your legs, picking up his monstrous length only to push the head of it against your fluttering entrance.Â
âBe careful.â Jeongguk warned but your eyes squeezed shut and your breath hitched when you inserted him into you anyways. Uncaring. Filthy. Simply too smitten with need to think twice.
âFuck.â Your body tensed as you tried to breathe through the stretch. That delicious pain. Jeongguk grabbed you by the waist to hold you up when you almost collapsed onto him. You forced yourself down anyway. Inch by inch. Making his cock bury all the way into you. It was no easy feat and you were already spent. Feeling as if he impaled you. âHurts.â You cried out softly.Â
Jeongguk gave your waist a comforting squeeze but his tongue clicked against his teeth disapprovingly as he struggled through a breath, âTold you to be fuckinâ careful, brat.â He spat out, jaw clenching painfully tight as your walls squeezed around his length.Â
âCanât help it.â Your voice was broken as you tried to speak, finally sinking down all the way onto him. Letting his length fill you up entirely. Your legs were shaking. Shoulders trembling. Nails curled deep into the skin along Jeonggukâs abdomen. And with furrowed brows, you barely managed to say, âJust wanna feel you.âÂ
He kept his eyes on your face, head shaking with dismay before his voice whispered out softly, âCâmon breathe, my little flower.â He cooed, âYou can do it.â He nodded and praised when he saw your shoulders loosen, âThatâs a good girl.â He hummed out when you started to rock your hips back and forth as a test.Â
It was only meant to be a test to see if you were adjusted to his size enough but the pleasure that went up your back in one sharp wave had you moving already. Making goosebumps line your skin as your head tipped back. Your jaw slacked. Eyes rolled shut.Â
And then you were riding. Picking yourself up only to slam back down. Rocking yourself each time you went down, âFeels so good.â You mewled, âSo deep.â Your voice came out shaky, feeling the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix from the angle. It wasnât the greatest feeling if you had to admit. But was what it called when you were so far gone that you didnât care either? Oh yeah, cock hungry. Dick drunk. In love.Â
âThatta girl.â Jeongguk praised, fighting against himself to grab you by the hips and fuck himself into you. He wanted you to have your moment on your own. He wanted you to use him in any way you needed. That didnât stop the grunts leaving his lips in labored noises though. He was enjoying this just as much as you were, âKeep going, sweetheart.â He breathed out, âYouâre doing so good. So fucking tight just for me.â The words fell out of his lips like a mantra. A prayer. Jeongguk didnât believe in God in the slightest but damn, did he believe in you.Â
You were tired already. Sweat slicking down your back and making your hair stick to it. Your thighs quaked. Body shivering. Your nails sunk deeper intoJeonggukâs skin. Scratching over him. But you didnât stop. You rocked over him. Felt every inch of his cock as you ground your hips.Â
You gazed down at Jeongguk and a smile crossed your lips as you looked at him. His jaw locked tight. Dark brows furrowed. Fighting demons in his head to keep himself from nutting quick, âYouâre so fucking hot.â You moaned the words out as if just looking at him alone could take you to the edge.Â
And thatâs when Jeongguk flipped the two of you over with one fluid motion. Dick still buried to the hilt as he laid on top of you. You mewled out in relief when your positions switched. Your back sinking into the plush bed while your legs went up. Hooking on their own over Jeonggukâs meaty shoulders,Â
âYou good?â He asked and you nodded quickly. Too quickly.
He folded you like a damn piece of paper at that. Your knees pressing into your chest. Making it hard for you to take a freaking breath. And then he was fucking into you. Skin slapping. Echoing through the room. Grunts and whines filling the space like a symphony of music.Â
âWant it harder, Ggukie.â You pleaded, âWanna feel you all the way into tomorrow.â You babbled the nonsense out and Jeongguk only grunted out deep in his throat in response.Â
Again, he wasnât a man that defied the laws that were you too often. He was leashed to you like a damn rabid animal. Tethered. Whipped some might even call it. Jeongguk didnât care.Â
He worshipped at the temple that was your body. And he would be a mad man to deny you of what you wanted. You wanted to hurt tomorrow? Hurt you would. He had no more dick left to give because he was buried into you as deep as he could go. He did have one thing left on his side though. Stamina. Endurance. Strength.Â
Jeongguk didnât move faster. Harder didnât mean speed. Harder meant that you wanted the sinfully delicious taste of pain. You wanted to feel him all the way up your throat. All the way in your heart.Â
He pushed into you with a strong thrust only to pull back out again. All the way out. Then right back in. Stretching your walls wider. Taking your soul. And leaving you fiending for even more. The tempo of the thrusts only made the bed shake. The headboard soon hitting against the wall. One time. Two times. Three and then four. Thatâs when you finally came to your senses,Â
âHoly fuck. Mrs. Grey.â You gasped out in alarm, hands at Jeonggukâs shoulders to halt him.
Mrs. Grey was the senior that lived next door to you both. She had to be about a century old. And yes, she was still all there too. When Jeongguk and you were a thing, she always seemed to know when he came over because that banging on the damn wall every time would wake the poor woman up out of her sleep.Â
âGod damn it, that hag is still alive?!â Jeongguk exhaled out an exhausted chuckle, reaching up with one hand to grab over the headboard, âFuck.â He had to slow his thrusts because one thing about Jeongguk was that he wasnât as disrespectful as everyone feared him to be.Â
He actually quite liked the old woman. As nosy as she was.Â
âFuck it.â You whispered, legs dropping off Jeonggukâs shoulders so that you could actually take a proper breath. You had one damn high heel left on your foot and you kicked it off quickly. Not sure where the other went. You didnât care. Arms slid around Jeonggukâs shoulders, your wrists crossing behind his neck, âIâll apologize to her in the morning.â You nodded, looking into his eyes that were full of amusement, âJust make me cum already.â You hummed out, âAnd then fill me up, Ggukkie. Want your nut in me so bad.âÂ
The sound of your voice and those desperate pleas made Jeonggukâs stomach clench viciously. Letâs not forget those eyes staring up at him either. Stars in your eyes that showed him the entire galaxy. The universe and everything in between. He couldnât say no to those eyes. No way. He drawed in a steadying breath and shook his head at you.Â
Good god, he was sure you were going to send him to an early grave for sure tonight.Â
Strong hands buried into the bedsheets under you both and Jeongguk forced himself to hold his weight upright. His head dropped to your shoulder for a second and he kissed over your skin. The tip of his length nudging at that special spot deep within you that only Jeongguk could reach.Â
Your head tilted back from that. Eyes seeing constellations in the ceiling above you. Fingers finding the back of his hair while your freehand moved down his back. Etching your nails into his skin. One leg wrapped lazily around Jeonggukâs waist and the heel of your barefoot pressed him closer to you. Wanting to feel every inch of him against you.Â
You were body to body. Skin to skin. Moulding together in perfect unity.Â
His thrusts slowed but didnât stop when his head lifted. Eyes finding yours through the moonlight of the bedroom. Jeongguk simply stared into your eyes for a moment and then he leaned in. Pressing a kiss to your lips. It wasnât the type of kiss you both shared earlier. It wasnât full of greed, teeth and tongue. It was full of affection. Apology. Promise.Â
You could feel tears pricking into your eyes as you stared back at him. You couldnât pinpoint why you were crying. Perhaps it was the dick snatching your soul. Perhaps it was just the man that was Jeongguk on its own. Maybe it was something about the way his tempo changed. About the way he studied your face as though he were memorizing you again just in case this was the last time he ever saw you. You realized quietly in the pit of your heart, that you never wanted to be away from these eyes again.Â
Your chest clenched within you when you kissed him back because it felt as though Jeongguk was trying to say something to you without words. Using his body as a language to say things he could never attempt to do on a regular day.Â
Why do we do this to each other? Why do we push each other away? All we want is each other. Letâs stop, please.Â
âDonât ignore me again.â You sighed out softly when Jeongguk broke the kiss. Your fingers moved from the back of his hair and touching over his cheek, âMy Gwishin.â You whispered that terrifying ass name out to him. It wasnât terrifying to you. Not anymore at least.Â
Jeongguk exhaled quietly and then whispered, âI wonât.â He promised and started to pushed himself into you again. Harder now. The headboard hit the wall once more. You hardly noticed because this time, the pleasure felt different. It felt full in a way that wasnât just about his dick anymore. Your heart fell full.Â
He pressed his forehead against yours. Lips ghosting over your own as he slid in and out of you. You could feel him rubbing against that spot. Specks of white began to prick your vision. You closed your eyes tight. And pressed your lips together to refrain from making noise and Jeongguk shook his head,Â
âLet me hear you, princess.â He nodded with encouragement, âDonât hide from me. You know I donât like that.âÂ
A broken whine escaped your lips and you forced yourself to open your eyes. Your breathing quickened. And then you couldnât hold back any longer, âIâmââ You barely got the words out. A seer of fire exploded across your skin at once. You said his name as if it were a song. Your thighs closed around his waist. Hips bucked up as your body jolted. Making your head accidentally bump Jeonggukâs own. You didnât seem to notice one bit. Your walls tightened around him and your body rocked the feeling out as you let out pained whimpers from the sensation.Â
âThatâs it. Ride it out, honey.â He talked you through it, âJust like that.â He eased the words out naturally. As if he didnât even need to think about what to say when it came to you.Â
He could feel your walls start to loosen around his cock to give him room to thrust again and then he started to move, âGonna fill you up, baby. You ready?â He whispered and you nodded weakly, âNeed to hear you.â He spoke sternly to which you whispered a breathless yes.Â
It didnât take long for him to fill you up. Two strokes later and he was spilling for the second time tonight. Emptying himself into you and giving you everything he had of him that was left. He dragged your name out from his lips when he came. Lips catching yours to kiss you as he rode it out before he swore under his breath when he pulled away, âShit.â He struggled to breathe and began to pull away before you stopped him.Â
âDonât pull out.â You whispered, eyelids heavy as you stared up at him, âNot yet.â Â
âWant me to go or stay?â Jeongguk questioned. He could feel the burn on his muscles from keeping himself held up for so long and he gave up. His body slumping against yours as carefully as he could. He probably crushed you with his weight but you didnât seem to care. In fact, you hummed out sweetly when he laid down on top of you. His cock still buried into you while your thighs slowly dropped from being locked around his waist.Â
âStay.â You whispered tiredly to Jeongguk, your arm circling around his shoulders to keep him close to you as if you feared he would disappear right before your eyes, âDonât go.âÂ
That ice cold muscle that was Jeonggukâs heart melted at once as he looked at you, âI wonât leave.â He nodded, a hand coming up to brush over your cheek, âDonât fall asleep on me, babydoll.â He instructed, âWe need to clean up first.â He reluctantly began to pull out and you whined quietly from the loss of feeling him inside of you.Â
You felt him pull a blanket over the both of you and you curled onto your side next to Jeongguk while the mattress to your bed dipped with his weight when he laid down on his back, âMm.â You grumbled in response, âIn a bit.â You hummed. Feeling the heaviness in your eyelids already began to lull you into sleep.Â
You forced yourself to stay awake though. Lidded eyes on the side of Jeonggukâs face. Finding his silhouette through the moonlight slipping through the curtains. The moon was full tonight. Shining into your bedroom in colours of blue and white. It was still dark but there was enough light to make out the shape of him beside you.
For the first time in a long time, you didnât regret anything that happened just now. Yet you felt a strange burning in your chest that came in the form of confusion.Â
Jeongguk was lying on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head. The other resting across his stomach, tattoos barely visible in the moonlight. He had his eyes closed. Breathing finally at a normal pace.Â
The smart thing to do was go clean yourself up. To go pee and take a shower. Toss your wet sheets into the wash while you were at it too. But you could hardly move. All you wanted was to be in the close proximity that was Jeon Jeongguk.Â
You squeezed your thighs together when you felt him trickling out of you. Not letting even a single drop leak out because for some odd reason, the feeling of some part of him still inside you strangely brought you comfort. It was nearly three in the morning. You should be sleeping. Instead, you were laid on your side, staring at Jeongguk. You propped your head up on your hand, eyes tracing his profile shamelessly.
The straight bridge of his nose. The faint scar across his cheek. The way his hair had fallen apart from being gelled, soft strands spilling onto his forehead. Long eyelashes resting over the dark circles under his eyes. You could feel the ache in your chest as you looked at him. Feeling him within the heartbeat thumping steadily right at the center of your chest.Â
One single question plagued your mind as you laid there. What now?Â
You continued to stare at him then reached up and brushed your finger over the tattoo on his chest. The asshole was pretending to be asleep. You knew this because his breathing changed the second you touch ghosted over his skin,Â
"I hated you for three weeks." You broke the silence.Â
His eyes finally opened at that. The moonlight caught in them. They didnât look as dark as they did just a few moments ago. Instead, cocoa coloured irises drifted towards you as he turned his head. And in his eyes, you didnât see the lustrous gaze he had while he was on top of you anymore either. You saw a gentle twinkle in them. A sea of brown you wanted to drown in.Â
Jeongguk looked tired. Not physically per se. But mentally. Tired with the gravity of you that was hanging heavy over his heart, "So did I." He finally said.Â
You turned onto your back and stared up at the ceiling. At the cracks in the paint. At the shadows moving faintly across the room. Staring at anything but Jeongguk because looking at him hurt. And not looking at him hurt even more. You pulled the blanket up to tuck it around your chest as you sighed out into the dark room,
âWhat do we do now?â You questioned, your words disappearing into the darkness.
The words felt so small. So ordinary. But nothing about the question was easy.Â
Three weeks. You still couldnât believe he did that to you. Three weeks of silence. Three weeks of checking your phone and hating yourself for it. Three weeks of wondering if the last few years of your life had only mattered to you.
The bed dipped slightly and Jeongguk turned onto his side to face you now.Â
You didnât have to look to know. You could feel him. Always.
The silence between you both went on for so long, you thought he wouldnât answer. Then he exhaled quietly and whispered, "I don't know." Jeongguk went quiet after that. Thinking.
You hated that he was thinking. You wished he would tell you a joke instead. Or kiss you. Or do literally anything except let the silence hang. You wondered what thoughts were passing through his mind. Would he say the thing you both had been avoiding?
You turned your head again and really looked at him. Looked at the man who ignored you for three weeks because he thought distance would save the both of you. The man who followed you home anyway. The man who looked ready to open fire on half the city because you smiled at someone else.
You ignored him all night just to hurt him. Left the bar with another man just to make him jealous. Made him chase you.
The whole time you did what you did, you felt it all. Felt the weight of his gaze. The way the room held its breath. Every glance you denied him was deliberate. Every laugh that wasn't his to hear was done with intent. Every second you spent pretending not to feel him staring at you from across The 7 Devils.Â
God you loved it. Loved the way Gwishin, the Ghost himself looked smaller every time you refused to look back. You hated that you loved it.Â
For three weeks, you were the one waiting. The one staring at a screen. The one swallowing pride until it felt like glass in your throat. You wanted him to hurt. Wanted him to wonder. Wanted him to feel even a sliver of what you felt when he disappeared.Â
So, you let another man buy you a drink. You smiled. You leaned in. You let his hand grab your ass when you left. You played the part. Not because you wanted him. You barely could remember his name. You did it because Jeongguk was watching. Somewhere deep down inside of you... there was an ugly ache to prove something.Â
You wanted Gwishin to suffer.
And he did.
You won. You got exactly what you wanted.
So, why did it still feel like you were losing?
You both were so bad for each other. And itâs not like you don't love him because you do. More than you could put into words. With a devotion so deep it sickened you.
The two of you spoke a language no one else understood. Sometimes you thought that was the problem. You both spent so many years learning how to hurt each other that you had forgotten how to do anything else.
Love wasnât supposed to feel like revenge. It isn't supposed to feel like winning. Yet with Jeongguk, every argument was a battlefield. Every silence was punishment. Every reunion was a surrender neither of you wanted to make.
You turned your head only to find that Jeongguk was already looking at you.
You wonder if he felt it too. The mess you both had become. The way your love had teeth. The way neither of you knew how to leave. Or stay. You knew exactly what you were to each other. A weakness. An obsession. A home. A festering wound.
Your eyes met and you turned to face him too. For a moment, you both just looked at each other. And then there it was again. That ache. The problem.
You loved him too much. Enough to wait. Enough to be jealous. Enough to hurt each other just to prove you still care.
It was hideous. You both knew it.
Jeongguk reached over towards you and your eyelids fluttered instinctively. A warm palm cupped your cheek and you leaned into his touch. Eyes closing while you nuzzled his palm. Feeling the heat from his skin radiate to your own.Â
"I don't want to lose you again." He confessed. There was no bravado in his tone. No cockiness. The confession fell quietly and scattered throughout the dark bedroom and it made your breath hitch right in your throat.Â
You simply turned your head and pressed a gentle kiss to his palm before sliding closer into his embrace. Your noses brushed. Your chests pressed together. Heartbeats one. And then you reached up, fingertips tracing airy touches over the curve of his lips. You gazed at the man lying with you like this. The soft plea within his eyes silently asking for something he couldnât force anymore. It was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.
His eyes searched your face. There was no expectation behind his eyes. He knew he had hurt you too much to beg for you to keep him. But there was a hopefilled glint behind those brown eyes.Â
Hope looked so wrong on Jeongguk. Hope looked too human. Too fragile.Â
You swallowed thickly and one word repeated in your head. Again. As if you ever truly left. As if he didn't just spend three weeks proving that he could survive without you. Except you knew now that he didn't survive it all.Â
And neither did you.
You looked away and your eyes drifted to your dresser because if you looked at him too long, you would forgive him. And then the cycle would continue. Your gaze landed on the glock still sitting there as if Jeongguk had never used it to kill people. The thought made you uneasy and without thinking, your eyes found Jeonggukâs again just like you always did.Â
The way he looked right now and the weapon sitting in your bedroom just made no sense to you. Maybe it wasnât ever supposed to make sense between you both.Â
"I don't know how to do this." Jeongguk admitted quietly, âI donât know how to keep you.âÂ
The words didnât even sound like him because Jeongguk always knows. He always decides. Always acts. Always get the final word. Always the last man standing. But when it came to you, Jeongguk had never truly figured you out.Â
Maybe that's why Jeongguk loved you so much. You were the only thing in his life that refused to bend. The only thing he couldn't intimidate. The only thing he couldn't buy back, fight for, or threaten into staying.
You stayed because you wanted to. You left because you wanted to. And every single time, it terrified him.
Perhaps it was the same for you too.Â
You didnât know how to love Jeongguk without trying to punish him when you were hurt. You didnât know how to stop waiting for him to disappoint you. You didnât know how to stop needing him.
Love was never the problem. You loved each other too much. So much that it curdled into jealousy like spoilt milk. Into silence. Into tests. Into cruelty. You had both spent years proving you would bleed for each other. But neither of you ever learned how to heal.
Neither of you knew how to love quietly. You both loved loudly. Possessively. Stupidly. You wounded each other and then bled out when the other person hurt.
And yet after all that and more, you both were still here. Choosing each other once again.Â
Slowly, you moved so that you were laying on top of him. Bare bodies against warm skin. A shaky exhale left your lips. The blanket around your shoulders dropped as you leaned down and closed the distance between you both, âI don't want you to keep me." You whispered with lips hovering over his own, "I want you to choose me."
Jeonggukâs breathing caught in his windpipe. Rough hands traced their way over your bare thighs as you sat down on top of his pelvis. His arms settled to wrap around your waist next. A broken exhale left his lips. A lump was stuck in his throat that he couldnât quite swallow. The burn of tears threatened to slip out of his eyes. But Jeongguk didnât cry. He refused to. Instead, he pressed you down against him as he leaned up to meet your lips.Â
You smiled sadly at him and you could see the faint line of tears pooling into eyes, "You don't keep a shadow, Jeongguk." Your voice dropped to a whisper and then you lifted your hand, your fingers tapped against his chest once. Then twice. And finally three times. The space between you both diminished and your lips touched. Melting into one another as you whispered into the kiss, âYou just learn to live with it.âÂ
For the first time in nearly 30 years, Jeongguk realized something the moment your lips found each other. Gwishin wasnât afraid of death. The Ghost wasnât afraid of pain. The only thing he had ever been afraid of⊠was waking up one day and hearing silence where your three taps used to be.
Jeongguk made plans to leave before sunrise. He had commitments he needed to fulfill. Jobs he needed to complete. Men that relied on him. Business to conduct. At least those were the excuses he told himself to make leaving feel better. He truly didnât want to leave. But if he stayed any longer, he would start believing nights like this could fix the years of damage he did to you.Â
And he had never been stupid enough to mistake fucking for healing. Not anymore at least.
He had slipped his clothes back on in your bedroom. The black outfit settling over broad muscles, hiding scars and ink on his skin along with the heavy weight of being human he carried with him everywhere. He paused by the front door as he slipped his feet back into his shoes. Lingering with his hand on the doorknob for a moment longer than necessary.
You pretended not to notice his hesitance. Standing behind him to see him out. Still stubborn. Still refusing to make this easier on him. He glanced back once and the sight of you almost undoes him.
Your hair was still messy from what happened just a few hours ago. Make up free from your skin. A light limp in your step. Freshly showered and dressed in comfortable clothes. Looking more beautiful now than you did walking into The 7 Devils.
Jeongguk tore his eyes away from you first because if he didnât, he wouldn't leave. And if he didnât leave, he would stay forever. The thought made his throat twist as if a thorned vine were wrapping around it. Then he opened the door and stepped out into the silent hallway where the cold fluorescent lights made him squint.Â
This is where you usually let it end. Where pride wins. Where silence pretends it has strength. Where you let Gwishin become a story again instead of a person youâre still not ready to lose.
Jeongguk turned to walk away and your door began to swing shut behind him but something in you moved before your thoughts could catch it. Your fingers lifted and you tapped the wood of your front door once. It was a sound only Jeongguk would notice. He stopped. Not fully turning around yet. You tapped the door again. A little slower. Then a third time. Three. Always three.Â
The sound wasnât a threat anymore. Not a game either.Â
Jeongguk knew what it meant. Even if you had never said it out loud.
I wonât disappear.
I love you.
I want you.Â
He didnât turn around immediately and it was though he needed a second to make sure he wasnât imagining it. He took a moment. Then slowly he looked back at you. Through the narrow opening of the door. His eyes found you instantly like they always did
There was no tension in your gaze. No preparation for loss in his own.Â
You didnât say anything. Neither did he.
There was nothing left that words can do better than those three simple taps anyways. The taps hung between you both like a promise neither of you had figured out how to break anymore.
You smiled at him and it wasnât the cruel smile from the bar. Or the victorious one from earlier either. It was something gentler. Sincere. So sincere it hurt him to look at.
Jeongguk simply stared at you because suddenly he was back in every single moment those taps ever existed throughout your relationship. At the bar. Across crowded rooms. At dinners. In cars. In his bed. In yours. Against his skin.Â
The rhythm only he understood. Three taps.
For years he thought it meant I'm your shadow. But standing here now with dawn creeping through the hallway windows and your eyes sparkling like you were embarrassed to be this soft, Jeongguk realized he was wrong all along. The taps never meant that. It meant I'm still here. A promise.
The foreign feeling of fear crept into his stomach. Making it twist within itself. But it wasnât fear of enemies. Or dying. It was fear of this. Of being loved this much. Of having something this precious to lose. Funny that an entire city feared the Ghost. Yet here he stood in this apartmentâs hallway at dawn completely terrified by three stupid taps.
The last three weeks of emptiness donât disappear. The hurt stays. The jealousy stays. And the fights will stay too. But so will this. You. You standing there. Still looking at him. Choosing him.Â
The gentle thought crosses Jeonggukâs mind like a breathy kissâŠÂ Â
Maybe your shadow was never something he needed to escape.Â
Maybe it was the only place he had ever felt safe.
Jeongguk barely made it three steps down the hallway again before Mrs. Grey's apartment door suddenly swung open. Not cracked. Not peeked through. Swung. As though she had been standing there with her hand on the knob, waiting for him.Â
You leaned against your doorway and watched the scene unfold. Mrs. Grey pointed a crooked finger at Jeongguk, "You." He stopped dead in his tracks. Any other stranger would mistake him for intimidating but Mrs. Grey was not a stranger.Â
She squinted at him through her enormous glasses, "Took you long enough." She thrust a blue recycling bin toward him, "Take this to the recycling chute for me."
He didn't hesitate. Obediently taking the bin from her with both hands, "Of course, Mrs. GreyâŠ"
You snorted out loud. Still watching.Â
Mrs. Grey ignored you completely, "I've been doing it myself for months," She complained as she watched Jeongguk carry the bin down the hall, "Young people these days disappear and forget about old ladies."
He glanced back at her, "I didn't forget about you, Mrs. Grey."
You laughed again. Unable to stop the fit of giggles escaping your lips.Â
Mrs. Grey finally pointed at you this time and raised her cane as she wobbled out into the hallway with her mumu swinging around her, "And you. Stop laughing."
Then, as if she had just remembered something urgent, Mrs. Grey gasped and leaned out again, calling after Jeongguk before he disappeared, âYou need to be back here by six.â
Jeongguk paused at the chute, half turned, âWhy?â
âTo walk Pebbles.âÂ
That made him still completely, âPebbles?â
âMy dog.â
âI know who Pebbles is.â
âThen why are you asking?â She snapped, âDisrespectful little kidsââ She started grumbling to herself. And as if on perfect queue, a tiny bark echoed from inside her apartment .Â
Jeongguk slowly turned his head toward the sound of the bark, then towards you. You were hiding your smile behind your hands. He looked completely betrayed. The kind of betrayal that could survive gunfire and rival gangs but not a small ass dog.Â
Jeongguk exhaled in defeat, and nodded once.
The hallway smelled like detergent and old coffee. Someoneâs radio hummed faintly through a closed door. Mrs. Grey was still talking. Unimpressed. And still completely in control of a man people were usually afraid to look at for too long.
And Jeongguk just listened like this was normal because it always had been.
You leaned against the doorway, watching him promise he would be back by six. Watching him accept instructions about a dog he pretended not to care about. Watching him soften in a way people rarely ever got to see.
When he finally turned to leave again, he didn't hesitate this time. His fingers brushed yours as he passed by. Not as a goodbye but more like a see you later.Â
You donât think about his touch lingering on your skin as he walked toward the stairs. You donât think about it as Mrs. Grey shuts her door with a satisfied click. You donât even think about it even as your apartment settled back into quietness because the question wasnât whether you were back together.
It never really had been.
Itâs whether you both had ever been apart at all.
âI fully support a name that screams sexy disasters with feelingsâ âKiki @jungkoode
Jungkook is your roommate. Did everyone tell you itâs a bad idea? Yeah. Did you still think you could handle it? Yep. So here you are, trying to keep your promise that 'youâll never fuck another fuckboy again.' Good luck with that.
a/n: So, my little idea turned into a drabble, which became a second-person POV piece, and has now evolved into a mini-series. I donât have everything written down (which is fucking scary), so I just post as I write. Because of that, I donât have a regular posting schedule. I also have no idea how many chapters this will be or exactly where Iâm going with it. So, bear with me.
warnings: the story isnât complete yet, please check the warnings of each chapter before reading. Cursing, drinking, unhealthy immature behavior. Male masturbation. Mention of female masturbation. Mention of sex.
do I wanna know
if this feeling flows both ways
Season One
Prologue; chapter 0 - thirsty.
The (thirst) trap has been set.
Prologue; chapter 0.5 - Lost (JK POV)
Was it weird of him to touch himself to the sound of his roommate fucking in the next room? Maybe.
Chapter 1 - Bad Decisions
âDeath by starvation; the unknown dangers of fuckboysâ
Chapter 2 - Shouldn't
Youâll go to grab breakfast, and heâll be like, âHey, remember the time I was balls deep inside of you?â
Chapter 3 - Damage Control
He looks like he already knows youâre going to say some bullshit.
Chapter 4 - Last Night
Teaser
âYou donât remember what happened?â
Chapter 5 - No Big Deal
âYou pierced your face?â
Chapter 6 - Snooze
âDonât worry. If I were a shark, Iâd keep you safe.â
Chapter 7 - Black
âWell, itâs not exactly the best idea to sleep around with your roommate, is it?â
Taehyung was your high school crush. Fuck thatâhe was everyoneâs high school crush. But that was twelve years ago. What does it matter that heâs now a fellow director at your company? Itâs not like you have anything to do with him. He probably doesnât even remember you⊠does he?
genre: Taehyung X Reader, art director Taehyung x software director reader, somewhat of a slow burn, high school crush to friends to lovers, workplace romance kinda, idiots in love, fluff then angst then fluff then angst then fluff, itâs complicated, eventual smut, nothing physical for many many chapters like weâre in a shojo anime they havenât kissed yet and they get excited from regular touch like they arenât fucking 30.
a/n: A fic I started writing back in July 2024 and finally ready to be shared with you. Itâs a story that means a lot to me, and Iâm so excited (and a little terrified) to be posting it. I donât have a planned update schedule, but Iâll try to post a new chapter every two to three weeks. Thank you for readingâI hope you enjoy it as much as Iâve loved writing it â€ïž
warnings: cursing, corporate talk, unhealthy use of alcohol, past trauma, sex. Please check every chapter for more specific warnings.
Teaser
Chapter 1 - Fucking Kim Taehyung (2.5k)
âHave you seen the new director? Kim something.â
Chapter 2 - 12 years ago (8.2k)
âI think you left some broken hearts in there.â
Chapter 3 - First Second Meeting (6k)
âSo, when are you going on a date with him?â
Chapter 4 - Not a Date (4k)
Why are you thinking about Taehyung all of a sudden?
Chapter 5 - Just Friends? (6.3k)
Heâs all charm, friendliness, and confidence, with an insanely attractive look. And youâre just.. you.
Chapter 6 - Tears and Pasta (5k)
"Iâve got a history of shitty exes. Whatâs your excuse?â
Chapter 7 - Office After Hours (2.5K)
"are you at the office? Iâm going for a smoke on the roof."
Chapter 8 - The Party (5.5K)
A mere peasant, and a goddess.Â
The sun and a speck of dust.
Chapter 9 - Awkward Moments (3.9K)
âIâll never let her date some douche like him.â
Chapter 10 - What have you cooked? (6.7k)
He knows that he is helpless, but quite frankly, he doesnât feel like fighting it any longer.Â
Chapter 11 - Going Backwards (4.5k)
Cause how do you even introduce the person that you thought was the love of your life?
Chapter 12 - Unraveling (4.5k)
he didnât have anything intelligent to say, only that Taheyung is a complicated person. No shit.
Chapter 13 - Unraveling Pt. 2 (5.4k + text messages)
did he tell you that heâs obsessed with u and u should fuck and get married and have children?
Chapter 14 - Halloween is for Bad Decisions (6.9k)
âTo love, money, and fucking a lot!âÂ
Chapter 15 - Back Inside (4.5k)
Snippet
It turned out that being cowards was the one thing you and Taehyung were perfectly aligned on.
Chapter 16 - Fireworks in Paris (TBA)
Ask the characters
More chapter titles will be added as I edit them âșïž
Pairing: childhood best-friend!JK x self-insert!OC (Kate)
Genre: bf2l, fluff, angst, drama, university!au
W/C: 23k and counting.
Status: Ongoing [Under Reconstruction.]
Overall Rating: 13+
Summary: He was five when he met her...falling. He was fifteen when he kissed her...falling. He was twenty-four when he realized he loved her...fallen.
He might be one of the most desired men in the world, but the same cannot be said when it come to your own feelings for him. Being forced to work with him again would be the last thing that you had ever expected after the initial adversity you had with him when you first met. You try your best to be professional and get things done. But, as always, he knows exactly how to push your buttons, forcing you to admit that perhaps you have been reading the flame burning inside you the wrong way.Â
âWe work well together, donât we, Miss Photographer?â
áŻâ ËËË Now Playing: i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys
â Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought â
SYNOPSIS. To become a cupid, one must demonstrate excellent matchmaking skills. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for you. Now met with a threat of death, you are given an ultimatum: make the biggest hater of loveâŠfall in love. As if that wasn't hard enough, you're also stripped of all your powers, leaving you with a new set of problems: how will you infiltrate the walls around his heart without your bow and arrow, and how do you convince him to shelter you while you're on the hunt for his one true love?
ì ì ê” x f.reader .â§âàżanti-romantic!jungkook cupid!f.reader grumpy x sunshine trope fantasy au fluff crack angst with a happy ending suggestive (jungkookâs a tease) forced proximity tbaâŠ
DISCLAIMER : any resemblance or similarity to other stories are purely coincidental. all idea of this story are originally mine. no, i did not write this with AI. And I do not own any of these characters, they are mainly for face claim PLS DONT SUE ME YAH </3
SERIES MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | Next Chapter
‿ PROLOGUE !
âSpend the night with me," his voice low, eyes locked on yours as you find yourself trapped between his body and the wall, his hand resting absentmindedly on your hips. "In my bed."
You're probably wondering: how'd you get yourself in this situation?
Well⊠we're going to need a minute to rewind.
Walking down the hall of the celestial kingdom, you try to calm your nerves as you inhale a deep breath. Typically, to walk down these halls meant honor. But for you, it seems to be the opposite.
"Do you think they'll give me another chance?" You stop fidgeting with your hands, turning your head toward the guard ushering you. "Namjoonâ"
"Let's just hope for the best," he cuts you off before you can finish, stopping in his tracks as both of you reach a gigantic monumental door, adorned in gold and swimming with a plethora of flowersâroses, to be exact. Namjoon turns to face you, his hand reaching out for your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down.
"Hey, now. As far as I heard, the Head Cupid's actually a big softie on the inside, despite all the rumors circulating around him." He smiles at you, though you can see he is trying to convince himself just as much as he is trying to convince you. "Whatever his decision will be, you'll always be our little cupid, alright?"
You nod at his words, and soon enough the entrance slowly opens. You turn to look at Namjoon for the last time before you meet whatever fate will be thrown at you, then walk forward alone.
It hasn't even been a full minute since you stepped over the threshold when you're startled.
"Well, what do we have here?" A sudden voice echoes across the massive space, not even giving you time to adjust yourself. You look around, trying to figure out where the voice came from, only to be disappointed and frightened because no one is in the same space as you.
Seeing as how you can't seem to figure out where the hell he is, he heaves a sigh. "You looked everywhere but the front, little lady." You jerk your head forward, a frown fighting to form on your face at his snarky remark.
But your annoyance is short-lived as you face the man sitting across from where you stand.
Holy heartsâŠ
He might be the most beautiful being you have ever met in your lifetime, you think.
"Quit staring now, little lady," he scoffs. "I know my charms are irresistible, but don't make it weird with those heart eyes appearing."
You frown at him, unable to hold it any longer. Clearly, his attitude does not match his face.
"C'mere." Leaving no room for a reply, he motions for you to come near.
Though unsure who he is, you follow, and it is only then that you realize the scene displayed in front of you. The room itself is big, much bigger than you imagined it to be, and much granderâmore like a jewelry box turned into a room.
Beyond the obvious layers of gold and flowers wherever you look, the ceiling is decorated with a series of grand sweeping arches, painted with loads and loads of murals, one of which you recognize to be from the time when cupids were recognized as celestial beings.
On top of that, the floor-to-ceiling windows with stained glass on each side cast a dreamy glow across the gigantic room, while nestled high up in the corners are small marbled cherubs peering down at you.
But what disturbs you the most is the lack of furniture, or emptiness rather, decorating the place. Aside from the massive drawers at the far back, there are no chairs, sofas, or tables for a guest to sit at, excluding the chair in front of the deskâwhich, speaking of, is positioned in the middle of the room yet so far away from the entrance, leaving a wide space in between.
"Sit," the man commands, snapping you out of your wandering thoughts. As you sit across from him, you give yourself the excuse to study his features longer before your eyes drift to the gold nameplate placed above his workspace.
Written on the engraved nameplate are the words that have you widening your eyes and cursing yourself mentally.
"Kim Seokjin â Head Cupid"
"So, I heard," the man, whom you now know is the Head Cupid by the name of Kim Seokjin, clasps his hands before placing them below his chin. Your momentarily forgotten anxiety comes back as you officially come face-to-face with the celestial being responsible for your fate. "You failed all three tasks of helping humans fall in love, hm? Technically, four, as you were given another shot?"
You purse your lips, unable to find the words to reply to him.
"Not quite desirable for a future cupid, no?" he continues, leaning back in his chair as he takes out a scroll, his eyes scanning over it. "Normally, one destined to be a cupid would succeed on their first try, barely needing a second trial."
"But you⊠never did succeed, even with four trials." He pauses, carefully thinking about his words, you hope. "It's my first time," he murmurs, and you notice how his brows furrow.
"Seeing someone fail so horribly."
"And it's also my first time hearing such words that weren't thought out carefully," you want to snap back at him, although you don't think it would be the best idea considering your status right now, so you keep it to yourself instead.
But you're not strong enough to act like the words thrown at you did not hurt. You are sure that if your anxiety about being banned from becoming a cupid wasn't occupying your mind, you would've broken down right there and then.
Failure. How you hated that word.
And how you hate that you can't escape it.
Seeing your reaction to his words, the Head Cupid immediately straightens his posture. "I meant no offense. It's just that⊠it is indeed my first time seeingâ" He pauses, realizing how wrong that still sounds, as if he is rubbing the fact that you're the first of failures in your face.
Disregarding his initial statement, he continues. "What I'm saying is⊠the board doesn't know what to do with you." A sigh escapes his lips before he can stop it. "In fact, they wanted you gone."
You feel the hair on your neck rise at his statement, and you feel yourself getting colder with each passing second.
Gone? As in wiped away from the face of the celestial world? No, you couldn't believe it. You didn't know it was such a grave mistake to fail all of your trials in helping humans fall in love. The worst punishment you thought could've been given to you was being forbidden from becoming a cupid forever, left to become someone who only helps the cupids in the shadows.
"No, you won't be killed. Initially, that was the plan. But it's fixed now," he assures you right after seeing the distress etched on your face, as if what he had said made you calmer.
Unfortunately for him, that makes it worse.
Your voice is caught in your throat, but you fear that even if you could let out a sound, you would never find the words to express what you feel right now.
"But you said it's fixed now. What do you mean?" Your voice comes out hoarser than usual, a little quieter too. But he hears you; you're sure of it when he nods before sliding a letter in front of you.
"Fifteen years ago, you wrote this to me. Fortunately for you, I read it."
It is a letter, a letter from little old you who mailed it to the palace of the Head Cupid to tell him how excited you were to help people find their happiness through their significant others. A letter, you remember, where you spilled the contents of your heart about this idea called love.
Fifteen years of dreaming to fly, only to fall flat on your face when the only thing you've done was stand.
"Lucky for you, you touched my heart." Seokjin playfully rolls his eyes at you, and you're sure you see an upward twitch at the corner of his mouth before a stoic expression returns to his face.
He holds out his hand, raising one finger. "One chance. They decided to give you one more chance, the last one."
"Reallyâ" you blurt out, only to be immediately shushed by him.
"Don't celebrate too early, little lady." Shifting his hand, he opens his palmâa cloud of pink smoke rising to form a heart before showing a clear vision of someone, a human, you presume.
"Jeon Jungkook," Seokjin says, and you squint your eyes to get a better view of his face. "He fell in love onceâvery hard, actuallyâand eventually got his heart broken, then never pursued anyone ever again." Seokjin continues, amusement clearly shown on his face.
"He's your assignment," he states before abruptly closing his palm, the pink cloud disappearing before you.
"Make him fall in love."
You exhale before nodding. Surely, that can't be too hard. And you're sure that this time around, you have your desperation as an extra weapon to ace your final chance.
"When can I start, then?"
"You'll have one week to prepare," Seokjin replies, standing up from his chair to⊠stretch? Never mind him.
You try to drift your attention away from what he is doing, too taken aback to see how informal this Head Cupid acts. Not what you were expecting after all the rumors about him.
"One week?" you question. One week is a long time. Typically, you were given a maximum of three days to study your assignment and prepare the things you'll need to work your magic. "What for? I have my bow and arrows readyâ"
"Oh, little lady. Who said anything about bows and arrows?" You hear him chuckle, confusion growing within you at what he means.
"Then, how can I help him?" You stand from where you were sitting, walking toward him before he turns around to face you.
"You will help him." Seokjin points down at the floor. "Down there." You can see him fighting a laugh ready to erupt from his throat, probably because of how confused you look. You aren't having it, though.
"What?"
He is puzzling you, and you hate it. Though, you probably should be more respectful about that. After all, you are still talking to the Head Cupid.
"I had convinced the board to give you another chance, yes. And that meant proving yourself harder than everyone else. If you were to help a human the way a normal cupid-to-be would, wouldn't you agree that it's unfair?"
He walks back over to his desk, snapping a finger to summon a scroll.
"Because they did." His fingers delicately unwrap the satin ribbon around the scroll, rolling it out before he looks at you. "The board has decided that for your final trial, you are to go down to Earth to personally help him. No powers or magic gear. Just you and pure determination inside a human body. That means you'll need to sleep, eat food from Earth, and learn how to survive the way of life down there."
Speechless. That's what you are.
Silence stretches between the two of you as you try to process his words. Although, the more you think about it, the more your head starts to ache.
"Are you willing to take on your assignment?" His eyes soften as he asks, his tone genuine, with no hidden sarcasm.
You exhale. "Yes, if that's what it takes." You momentarily close your eyes, only to open them again and see the Head Cupid disappear from your sight. "How hard can it be?"
"Very well, then." You flinch at the voice, clutching your heart in surprise to see him suddenly behind you. "You may leave now."
"Can you please not talk when you're not in sight, Mr. Head Cupid? It's scaring the angels out of me."
He chuckles, following behind you as you walk toward the same path you entered through. Before stepping one foot forward, you turn around to look at him.
"Thank you, Head Cupid," you murmur, tilting your chin down as a way to avoid his gaze. However, you do feel his hand lifting it up.
"Chin up, little cupid. There's so much more in store for you." He smiles before patting your shoulder. "Don't make him fall in love with his cousin, alright?"
You blush at his accusation. "For the record, I didn't know she was his cousin, and neither did he." You stammer, embarrassed to even think about one of your failed trials, especially now that you know even the Head Cupid knows about it.
You turn your back fully this time, and you slowly exit the threshold of the Head Cupid's office as you think to yourself â determination they want?
Then determination they'll get.
As soon as the door closes, Seokjin grins to himself.
You don't know it yet, but you're in for a one hell of a ride with your assignment.
ââ authorâs notes ( đŹ ) Hope you enjoyed the prologue !! Let me know your thoughts about it :P Chapter 1 is coming soon, donât you worry ^^
coeureverie2026 do not copy, translate, or plagiarize any of my works.
He might be one of the most desired men in the world, but the same cannot be said when it come to your own feelings for him. Being forced to work with him again would be the last thing that you had ever expected after the initial adversity you had with him when you first met. You try your best to be professional and get things done. But, as always, he knows exactly how to push your buttons, forcing you to admit that perhaps you have been reading the flame burning inside you the wrong way.Â
âWe work well together, donât we, Miss Photographer?â
synopsis: When your boyfriend Soobin struggles to satisfy you in the bedroom, you both agree to see the cityâs most sought-after sex therapist: Jeon Jungkook. Charming, confident, and dangerously skilled with his hands, Jungkook doesnât just offer adviceâ he shows you exactly how itâs supposed to feel. What starts as clinical demonstrations quickly turns into something far more intense, with Soobin watching helplessly from the corner as Jungkook takes his time teaching your body pleasures your boyfriend never could.
warnings: smut mdni, masturbation, use of a vibrator, cuckholding, fingering, oral (f.rec.), unprotected sex, missionary, lotus, doggystyle, biting, ass eating (because @merakoo asked for it), ass slapping, hair pulling, rough sex, lots and lots of dirty talk, creampie, squirting, this is filthy as fuck, soobin x reader.
â¶ïčword count: 10.5k
The room was quiet except for the slow, uneven sound of your breathing slowly returning to normal. You lay on your back beside Soobin, both of you staring up at the ceiling where the same faint crack in the paint had been mocking you for months now. The sheets beneath you felt sticky and warm, but the warmth wasnât the satisfying kind that usually came after really good sex. It was just⊠fine. Everything lately had been fine. His hand had been gentle on your hips, his kisses soft against your neck, and when he finally came, he let out that familiar quiet groan before collapsing beside you. But you hadnât. Not even close.
In the beginning of your relationship, the sex had been good enough to leave you content. It wasnât mind-blowing or adventurous, but it was warm and loving and enough to make you curl into him afterward with a sleepy smile. Over the last couple of years though, things had slowly changed. The spark had dimmed into something mechanical, almost routine. You found yourself lying there more often than not, faking soft little moans so he wouldnât feel bad, while the ache between your legs only grew more frustrated. Sometimes you wondered if he noticed how often you slipped away afterward. Tonight, you knew he did. You could feel it in the way his body had tensed just slightly when he pulled out, the unspoken awareness hanging heavy between you.
Soobin shifted beside you, the mattress dipping as he rolled over. His arm draped loosely across your waist for a moment before he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there like an apology he didnât quite know how to voice. âGoodnight, baby,â he whispered, voice already thick and sleepy. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to sound normal.
âGoodnight,â you replied softly, turning your head just enough to brush your nose against his shoulder.
You waited in the dark, listening carefully as his breathing gradually slowed and deepened. Minutes stretched out, each one feeling longer than the last. When you were finally sure he was fully asleep, you slipped out from under his arm with practiced care, trying not to disturb the mattress too much. The cool air of the room hit your bare legs as you stood, and you padded quietly to the bedside drawer. Your fingers closed around the smooth, familiar shape of your vibrator, the one youâd come to rely on more than you wanted to admit. The weight of it in your palm felt almost comforting now.
You tiptoed into the bathroom and closed the door behind you with a soft click, locking it out of habit even though Soobin was dead to the world. The small nightlight cast a gentle golden glow across the tiles as you leaned back against the sink counter. Heart still racing from the unresolved tension in your body, you hiked up the oversized t-shirt youâd thrown on and parted your thighs. The moment the buzzing toy pressed against your swollen, neglected clit, a shaky exhale escaped your lips. This was never fine. This was intense, almost desperateâ the sharp pleasure you craved but could no longer get from the man sleeping in the next room.
Your free hand gripped the edge of the counter as you worked the vibrator in slow, teasing circles, then faster, chasing the release that had been denied to you earlier. Your mind wandered while your hips jerked against your hand, thoughts drifting dangerously toward the crumpled business card youâd tucked away in your purse weeks ago. Jeon Jungkook. Licensed Sex Therapist. Specialist in couplesâ intimacy issues. Youâd stared at that card so many times, equal parts ashamed and curious. The glowing reviews online had mentioned how thorough he was⊠how hands-on.
Your thighs trembled as the pressure finally built to its peak. You bit down hard on your lip to stay quiet, eyes squeezing shut while the orgasm crashed over you in strong, pulsing waves. For a few blissful seconds, everything else disappearedâ the frustration, the guilt, the growing distance between you and Soobin. Only the sharp pleasure remained. But as the high faded and you caught your breath under the dim nightlight, the reality settled back in. This couldnât keep going on like this. Something had to change.
The next day dawned gray and quiet, the kind of overcast morning that made the apartment feel smaller than it was. You woke up before Soobin, his arm still loosely draped over your waist from the night before. For a long moment you just lay there, staring at the faint crack in the ceiling that had become an unwilling witness to so many disappointing nights. Your body still carried the faint ache of unresolved need, even after last nightâs secret session in the bathroom. The memory of the vibratorâs buzz and the sharp, guilty pleasure it brought made your thighs press together under the sheets.
All day the business card burned a hole in your pocket.
You went through the motionsâ making coffee, answering emails, attending meetings, but your mind kept circling back to it. Should I say something? What if he gets defensive? What if he thinks Iâm unhappy with him as a person and not just⊠this? The card felt heavy, its edges sharp against your fingertips every time you brushed your hand over your pocket. At lunch you pulled it out in the bathroom stall just to stare at the elegant black text again: Jeon Jungkook, Licensed Sex Therapist. Specialist in Couplesâ Intimacy & Desire. Your stomach twisted with nerves and something else, something hotter and more dangerous.
By the time evening came, the anxiety had twisted into a constant, low hum beneath your skin. You cooked dinner in silence while Soobin set the table, the two of you moving around each other with the familiar, gentle choreography of a couple who had been together for years. Pasta with creamy tomato sauce, garlic bread, a simple salad, comfort food on a night that felt anything but comfortable. The apartment smelled warm and safe, yet your heart wouldnât stop racing.
Halfway through the meal, you couldnât take it anymore.
Your fork paused above your half-eaten plate, twirling a strand of pasta that you no longer had any appetite for. Soobin was talking softly about his day, something about a deadline at work, but the words barely registered. Your fingers trembled as they slipped into your pocket and pulled out the slightly creased business card. Without a word, you slid it across the wooden table until it rested beside his glass of water.
Soobinâs voice trailed off. He looked down at the card, fork hovering in mid-air for a second before he slowly set it down. The quiet clink of metal against the plate sounded impossibly loud. You held your breath, chest tight, watching his face as he picked up the card with long, elegant fingers. His eyes scanned the text once, then again, more carefully. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock on the wall.
You waited for confusion. For hurt. For anger, maybe. Instead, Soobin let out a long, slow sigh.
It wasnât the frustrated kind youâd feared. It was⊠relief. Deep, exhausted relief. His shoulders sagged as he placed the card back on the table, turning it over once between his fingers before looking up at you. His eyes were soft, a little sad, but strangely calm.
âYouâve been thinking about this for a while, havenât you?â he asked quietly.
You swallowed hard, nodding. Your voice came out smaller than you wanted. âYes. I⊠I know things havenât been great. Between us. In bed. I know youâve felt it too.â
Soobin leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He stared at the card for another long moment, then looked at you againâ really looked at you. There was no defensiveness in his gaze, only a quiet acknowledgment that made your throat tighten.
âI have,â he admitted, voice low. âIâve felt it for months. Every time I touch you and you donât⊠every time you make those little sounds like youâre trying to spare my feelings.â He gave a small, self-deprecating smile that broke your heart a little. âI didnât know how to bring it up. I didnât want you to think I donât want you anymore, because I do. So fucking much. I just⊠I donât know how to fix it.â
The honesty in his words made your eyes sting. You reached across the table and took his hand, squeezing it gently. For the first time in a long time, it felt like you were really seeing each other again. âI donât want to keep pretending everythingâs fine when itâs not,â you whispered. âI think⊠maybe we need help. Real help. From someone who knows what theyâre doing.â
Soobin glanced back down at Jungkookâs name on the card. His thumb brushed over the printed letters almost absentmindedly. After a long pause, he nodded. âOkay,â he said softly. âIf youâre sure you want to do this⊠then Iâm in. Weâll do it together.â
You let out a shaky breath you didnât realize youâd been holding, a strange mix of nerves and excitement fluttering in your stomach. The decision was made. The appointment would be made.
The waiting room of Jeon Jungkookâs private practice was quieter than you expected. Soft ambient music played low in the background, something instrumental and soothing that did little to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You sat on a sleek gray couch beside Soobin, your hand resting loosely in his lap while his thumb brushed slow, absentminded circles over your knuckles. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and clean linen. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in natural light, but the tension in your chest made everything feel slightly unreal.
You had been nervous all morning. The drive here had been mostly silent, both of you lost in your own thoughts, but now that you were actually here, sitting in this elegant, minimalist office, the nerves had twisted into something sharper. A low, thrilling hum of excitement sat right beneath the anxiety. Your thighs pressed together under your sundress as you replayed the glowing reviews in your head. Thorough. Transformative. Life-changing.
Ten minutes felt like an eternity.
Every time you heard footsteps in the hallway, your breath would catch, only for the sound to fade again. Soobin squeezed your hand gently, offering a small, reassuring smile, but you could see the same mixture of uncertainty and hope in his eyes. He looked handsome today in his button-up shirt, but even that familiar sight couldnât stop the restless energy buzzing under your skin.
Finally, the door opened.
Jeon Jungkook stepped inside, and for a moment the world seemed to tilt.
He was stunning. Easily one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen. Tall and broad-shouldered, he moved with a quiet, confident grace that immediately filled the room. His black hair was slightly tousled, falling over his forehead in a way that looked effortlessly perfect. Sharp jawline, full lips, and dark, piercing eyes framed by long lashes. He wore a fitted black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing tattoos that disappeared beneath the fabric, and tailored slacks that accentuated his powerful thighs. The subtle scent of his cologne, something woody and expensive, reached you as he closed the door behind him.
You couldnât stop staring.
Jungkook didnât speak right away. He crossed the room and settled into the large leather chair across from you, clipboard in hand. For several long minutes he simply read over his notes, his expression calm and focused. The silence was heavy. You found yourself tracing the line of his neck, the way his fingers held the pen with quiet strength, the faint flex of muscle in his forearm as he turned a page. Heat crept up your neck. Soobin shifted beside you, but you couldnât tear your gaze away from the man in front of you.
After what felt like forever, Jungkook finally looked up.
His eyes met yours first, then shifted to Soobin. A small, professional smile curved his lips, warm, but with something unreadable flickering behind it. âHello,â he said, voice smooth and low, like velvet dragged over stone. âIâm Jeon Jungkook. Thank you for waiting. Iâve reviewed the intake forms you filled out online.â He set the clipboard on his lap and leaned back slightly, giving you both his full attention. âSo⊠why donât you tell me what brought you here today?â
You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. Soobin gave your hand another squeeze, silently encouraging you to start. Your voice came out softer than intended as you began to speak.
You told him everything. How the sex had been good in the beginning, warm, loving, safe. How over the past couple of years it had slowly become routine and unsatisfying. You described lying beneath Soobin, faking soft moans while your body remained tense and frustrated. The mechanical rhythm, the lack of real spark, the growing ache that no amount of âfineâ could satisfy. You mentioned slipping away to the bathroom at night with your vibrator, chasing the intense pleasure your boyfriend could no longer give you. Your cheeks burned as you spoke, but Jungkookâs gaze never wavered. He listened with complete focus, occasionally nodding or jotting something down on his clipboard.
Soobin chimed in quietly, his voice laced with vulnerability. He admitted feeling the distance growing between you two. How he could sense you werenât fully there with him anymore, how guilty it made him feel, how much he still wanted you but didnât know how to reach you the way he used to. He spoke about the pressure of wanting to please you and constantly falling short.
Jungkook listened intently the entire time.
His dark eyes flicked between the two of you, absorbing every word. Every so often he would write something down in neat, precise strokes, his pen moving across the paper with a soft scratch that somehow felt intimate in the quiet room. He didnât interrupt. He didnât offer empty reassurances. He simply absorbed it all, head slightly tilted, expression thoughtful and impossibly focused. You found yourself wondering what exactly he was writing. What he was thinking. Whether he could already picture exactly how to fix what was broken between you.
When you both finally fell silent, the room felt heavier than before. Your heart was racing, thighs warm, a traitorous pulse beating between your legs as you watched Jungkook tap his pen against the clipboard once, twice, before setting it down.
âI appreciate how open youâve both been so far,â he began, eyes flicking between you and Soobin. âBut to truly help, I need to understand the specifics. The details matter. How often do you have sex currently? How long do your sessions usually last, from start to finish? And most importantly⊠what does it actually look like when youâre together?â
You felt heat bloom across your chest and climb up your neck. Soobinâs hand tightened slightly around yours, his palm growing warmer. Jungkook waited patiently, giving you both space, but his dark eyes were sharp, missing nothing. When neither of you spoke immediately, he continued gently, guiding the conversation. âLetâs start with positions,â he said, tone professional yet undeniably intimate. âWhat positions do you usually use? Do you switch often? How does foreplay factor inâ duration, techniques? And how long does penetration usually last before one or both of you finishes?â
The questions landed heavily in the quiet room. You swallowed, mouth dry, your sundress suddenly feeling too thin against your skin. Jungkookâs gaze settled on you expectantly, patient but commanding. There was something about the way he looked at youâ focused, knowing, like he could already see the frustration coiled tight in your body, that made your pulse throb between your legs.
You took a shaky breath and forced the words out, voice barely above a whisper at first. âWe⊠we mostly just do missionary,â you admitted, cheeks burning. âItâs what feels most natural for us, I guess. Comfortable. Soobin on top, me on my back. Sometimes Iâll ride him, cowgirl, but not very often. And when I do⊠thereâs not much vigor to it. I get tired quickly, or it just doesnât feel⊠right.â
Jungkook nodded slowly, writing something down in those neat strokes. The scratch of his pen seemed louder than it should have been. He didnât look surprised or judgmental. Instead, his expression remained thoughtfully neutral, though you swore you caught the faintest flicker of something darker, interest, perhaps, behind his eyes.
âAnd how long does it usually last?â he asked, voice smooth. âFrom the moment clothes come off to when itâs over. Be honest.â
Soobin cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably beside you. His ears had turned pink. âMaybe⊠ten to fifteen minutes?â he offered quietly. âSometimes less. I try to hold out, butâŠâ
You squeezed his hand, both ashamed and relieved to finally say it aloud. âItâs not that itâs bad,â you added quickly, though the words felt hollow even to you. âItâs just⊠short. And always the same. Missionary with him above me, moving steadily until he finishes. I rarely do on my own during it. When I ride him, I try to move, but it feels awkward. Like I donât know how to make it feel good for either of us anymore. Thereâs no real⊠intensity. No roughness. No experimentation.â
Jungkook listened with complete focus. His full lips pressed together in thought as he processed your words. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward again, elbows on his knees, closing some of the distance between you. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you, warm, masculine, expensive. âNo oral?â he asked calmly. âNo doggy style? No standing positions, no restraints, no toys during sex together? You mentioned using a vibrator alone at night, does Soobin ever use it on you? Or watch you use it?â
Each question felt like a layer being peeled back. You squirmed in your seat, painfully aware of the growing wetness between your thighs. The way Jungkook spoke, so direct, so clinical, yet dripping with unspoken promise, made your mind race with images you knew you shouldnât be having in this moment. Him. Those tattooed arms. That confident grip. Showing you exactly what youâd been missing.
Soobin shook his head slowly. âWeâve tried oral a few times, but⊠it doesnât last long. And no, weâve never really done any of the other stuff. It just never felt necessary before. Or maybe we didnât know how.â
You nodded in agreement, biting your lip. âItâs always been vanilla. Safe. But now it feels too safe. Too⊠predictable. I love him. I do. But I lie there wondering if this is just how itâs going to be forever.â
Jungkookâs eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary before he wrote a few more lines. The silence that followed was thick with tension. He finally set the pen down and looked at you both, his expression composed but carrying an undeniable edge of authority. âI understand,â he said, voice dropping slightly. âYouâre stuck in a very narrow script. Missionary and occasional cowgirl with minimal energy or variation, that explains a lot about the frustration youâre both feeling. Your bodies have adapted to routine. Comfort has replaced desire.â
Jungkook set his clipboard aside completely now, the soft thud of it hitting the side table sounding final. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and fixed both of you with a steady, intense gaze. The professional mask was still there, but something sharper and more commanding lingered just beneath it.
âIâve heard enough to see the pattern clearly,â he said, voice low and smooth. âWords and explanations can only go so far. At this point, the most effective way for me to help is through demonstration. Iâd like to show Soobin exactly how to touch you, how to build real desire, and how to awaken the parts of your body that have been neglected.â
He let the words settle in the heavy silence of the room before turning his full attention to you. âI wonât do anything without your explicit consent,â Jungkook continued, his dark eyes locking onto yours. âThis would involve me touching you directly while Soobin watches. Iâll start slow. Iâll show him how to kiss you, how to touch you, how to read your bodyâs responses. If at any point you want to stop, you say the word and everything ends immediately.â
Your heart hammered wildly in your chest. Heat flooded your face, your neck, and lower. You could feel Soobinâs hand tense in yours, his breathing shallow beside you. For a long moment, the only sound was the soft ambient music and the rush of blood in your ears.
Jungkook waited patiently, giving you time. His gaze never waveredâ calm, confident, and impossibly magnetic. You swallowed hard, throat dry. Nervous energy twisted in your stomach, but underneath it, something hotter and more dangerous stirred. A deep, aching curiosity. Excitement. âYes,â you whispered, voice barely audible at first. Then stronger, âYes⊠I want that.â
Jungkookâs lips curved into a small, approving smile. He glanced at Soobin. âAnd you? Are you comfortable with me demonstrating on your girlfriend while you observe?â
Soobin hesitated for only a second, then gave a slow nod, his cheeks flushed. âIf she wants it⊠then yes.â Jungkook stood up smoothly, moving with that quiet, predatory grace. He crossed the short distance between his chair and the wide, plush chaise lounge where you and Soobin were seated. He extended his hand to you.
âCome here,â he said softly. âLie back and get comfortable.â
Your legs felt unsteady as you stood. Soobin released your hand, and you moved to the chaise, heart pounding so hard you were sure they could both hear it. You lay back against the soft cushions, your sundress riding up slightly against your thighs. Jungkook sat on the edge beside you, the heat of his body immediately noticeable. He was so close now. The scent of his cologne, the faint warmth radiating from his broad frame, the way his button-up shirt stretched across his chest, it was overwhelming.
He looked down at you, eyes dark and focused. âRelax for me,â he murmured. âWeâre going to start very slow.â Jungkook leaned in, one hand gently brushing your hair away from your neck. His breath ghosted over your skin first, sending shivers racing down your spine. Then his lips pressed softly just below your ear. The kiss was feather-light at first, warm, deliberate. He took his time, kissing down the sensitive column of your neck with slow, lingering presses of his mouth. Each one felt intentional, like he was learning the map of your reactions.
A shaky exhale left your lips. Your eyes fluttered half-closed as he kissed lower, finding the spot where your neck met your shoulder and sucking gently. The wet heat of his tongue traced a small circle there, and your back arched instinctively. One of his hands slid up your side, slow and confident, until his large palm cupped your breast through the thin fabric of your dress. He squeezed gently, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing strokes until it hardened under his touch.
âSee how she responds when you take your time?â Jungkook said quietly, speaking to Soobin without pulling his mouth away from your neck. His voice had dropped even lower. âDonât rush straight to the obvious places. Build it. Make her feel wanted.â
He kneaded your breast with just the right amount of pressure, rolling your nipple between his fingers over your dress, while his mouth continued its slow exploration of your neck and collarbones. Soft, open-mouthed kisses. The occasional gentle scrape of teeth that made your thighs press together. Your breathing had already grown uneven, small sounds escaping you that you didnât even try to hold back.
Jungkookâs free hand rested on your waist, holding you in place as he shifted slightly closer. The weight and warmth of him beside you made your head spin. Every touch was precise, controlled, and devastatingly effective. You could already feel yourself getting wet, arousal pooling between your legs far faster than it ever did with Soobin.
Soobin sat quietly in the chair nearby, eyes wide and fixed on every movement. His hands were clenched tightly in his lap, breathing audible. Jungkook pulled back just enough to look at your face, his thumb still lazily circling your nipple. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. âHow does that feel?â he asked you, voice husky. âBe honest.â
You could barely form words. Your neck tingled where his mouth had been, your breast warm and heavy under his hand. âIt feels⊠really good,â you breathed, cheeks burning.
A satisfied smile tugged at Jungkookâs lips. âGood,â he murmured, leaning back down. âThen letâs continue.â Jungkookâs hands moved with deliberate confidence as he sat up slightly on the edge of the chaise. His dark eyes never left your face, reading every flicker of nervousness and arousal that crossed it. âLetâs remove this,â he murmured, voice low and reassuring. âI want you to feel everything without barriers.â
His fingers found the hem of your sundress, slowly sliding it upward. The fabric whispered against your skin as he lifted it inch by inch, exposing your thighs, then your hips, then the soft curve of your stomach. You raised your arms obediently, heart hammering against your ribs. With one smooth, practiced motion, Jungkook pulled the dress up and over your head, leaving your hair slightly tousled. He set the garment aside neatly on a nearby chair, his gaze roaming over your body now clad only in your bra and matching underwear.
The cool air of the room kissed your newly exposed skin, making you shiver. You felt incredibly vulnerable under their combined staresâ Soobinâs wide-eyed and tense from his seat, and Jungkookâs dark, hungry, yet still controlled. Jungkook hummed softly in approval, his large hands returning to your body immediately.
He leaned down again, lips finding your neck once more. This time his kisses were deeper, more possessive, sucking gently at your pulse point while one hand cupped your breast through the thin lace of your bra. His thumb brushed over your nipple in slow, teasing circles, coaxing it to a stiff peak. He kneaded the soft flesh with just the right pressure, firm enough to make you arch into his touch, but never rushed.
âWatch how Iâm touching her,â Jungkook said quietly to Soobin, his mouth still hovering against your heated skin. âDonât just grab. Mold her breast in your palm like this⊠feel its weight. Use your thumb to tease her nipple until itâs sensitive. Her body is already responding, see how her breathing changed? Thatâs what you want.â
You let out a shaky whimper as he emphasized his words by pinching your nipple lightly through the fabric, rolling it between his fingers. Pleasure shot straight down between your legs. Jungkook continued kissing down your collarbone, occasionally glancing toward Soobin to explain, his voice smooth and instructional even as his hands worked magic on your body.
After several long, indulgent minutes of kissing and caressing your breasts, Jungkookâs hand began to travel lower. His palm smoothed down your stomach, fingers tracing the waistband of your underwear. He looked up at you, eyes intense. âStill okay?â he asked softly.
You nodded quickly, biting your lip. âYesâŠâ
With your permission, his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties. The first touch of his fingers against your bare, heated skin made you gasp. You were already slick with arousal, embarrassingly wet from everything heâd done so far. Jungkookâs middle and ring fingers found your swollen clit and began rubbing slow, lazy circles over it.
âFuck⊠sheâs soaked,â he murmured, almost to himself, though loud enough for Soobin to hear. His fingers moved with expert precision, not too fast, not too light, applying perfect pressure as he circled your clit again and again. âThis is key, Soobin. Donât rush to penetrate her. Spend time here. Learn exactly how she likes to be touched. Feel how her hips are already trying to follow my hand?â
Your thighs trembled. Soft, needy sounds spilled from your lips as Jungkook continued the torturously slow rubbing. Heat coiled tighter and tighter in your lower belly. Every circle of his fingers sent sparks of pleasure racing through you. He kept his mouth on your neck and chest the entire time, kissing and gently biting while his hand worked between your legs.
After several drawn-out minutes of this, Jungkook shifted slightly. He used two fingers to pull your soaked panties to the side, fully exposing you. Without warning, he slowly pushed one thick finger inside you, then a second, stretching you open with delicious care. A broken moan escaped your throat. Your back arched off the chaise as his fingers sank deeper, curling slightly to find that sensitive spot inside you. Jungkook groaned softly in approval at how tightly you clenched around him.
âSee that?â he said to Soobin, voice huskier now. âSheâs gripping my fingers so tightly. This is what happens when you take the time to arouse her properly. Slide in slowly⊠curl them like this⊠and listen to the sounds she makes.â He began thrusting his fingers in and out in long, deep strokes, his thumb returning to rub circles over your clit at the same time. The dual sensation was overwhelming. Your hips rolled against his hand instinctively, chasing the building pleasure while Soobin watched every single movement with flushed cheeks and parted lips.
Jungkookâs eyes flicked back to your face, watching you intently as he fingered you with steady, devastating skill. âYouâre doing so well,â he praised softly, pumping his fingers deeper. âLet me hear you.â
Jungkookâs fingers moved with growing intensity, thrusting deeper and faster into your soaked pussy. The wet, obscene sounds of his thick fingers pumping in and out filled the room, mixing with your increasingly loud moans. You couldnât hold back anymore. Your head fell back against the chaise as shameless whimpers and cries spilled from your lips. âAhâ fuck⊠Jungkookââ you moaned loudly, your voice breaking on his name. Your fingers dug desperately into his muscular arm, gripping the hard bicep through his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded. Your hips bucked up to meet every thrust, chasing the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you so effortlessly. âOh my god⊠it feels so goodââ
âThatâs it,â Jungkook praised, his voice low and rough. âLet it out. Donât hold back for me.â His fingers curled perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you with every stroke, faster now, more relentless. The wet squelching sounds grew louder as your arousal coated his hand and dripped down between your thighs.
Your moans turned into desperate, breathy cries. Your thighs trembled violently around his wrist as the pleasure built higher and higher, far beyond anything youâd felt in months.
Jungkook suddenly slowed his fingers, keeping them buried deep inside you, and shifted his position. He moved onto his knees on the chaise, spreading your legs wider with his free hand. He looked over at Soobin, eyes dark with lust but still carrying that instructional tone. âIâm going to eat her out while I keep fingering her,â he told Soobin calmly. âThis combination is extremely effective. Watch how I use my tongue.â
You whimpered at his words alone, already anticipating what was coming. Jungkook hooked his fingers under the waistband of your soaked panties and pulled them down your legs, tossing them aside. Completely exposed now, you shivered under his gaze.
He leaned down between your spread thighs, face inches from your dripping pussy. Without warning, he spat directly onto your swollen hole, the warm saliva landing right at your entrance. You gasped sharply at the filthy sensation. Jungkook used two fingers to spread the spit around, mixing it with your own wetness, before pushing his fingers back inside you.
Then his tongue was on you. A loud, broken moan tore from your throat as his warm, wet tongue licked a long, slow stripe up your pussy before focusing on your clit. He sucked the sensitive bud into his mouth while his fingers continued thrusting in and out of you, faster than before. Then he did exactly what heâd described, he fucked the spit into your hole with his tongue, pushing it inside you alongside his fingers in messy, obscene strokes.
You were on cloud nine.
âFuckâ! Jungkookâ oh my fucking godââ you cried out, voice loud and unrestrained. Your back arched sharply off the chaise as intense pleasure crashed through your body. Your hands flew to his head, fingers threading through his soft dark hair, gripping tightly as his tongue fucked into you deeper. The wet sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy mixed with the filthy squelch of his fingers pumping relentlessly inside you.
Jungkook groaned against your cunt, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through you. He alternated between fucking you with his tongue and sucking hard on your clit, all while his fingers curled and stroked that perfect spot without mercy. âSoobin,â Jungkook said, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips shiny with your juices. âCome closer. Sit right next to her. She needs you here.â
Soobin moved quickly, his face flushed dark red. He sat on the edge of the chaise beside you, eyes wide as he watched Jungkook devour you. You reached out blindly, grabbing Soobinâs hand and squeezing it hard as another loud moan ripped from your throat.
âBabyâ ahhâ it feels so good,â you whimpered to Soobin, voice shaking. Your body thrashed under Jungkookâs skilled mouth and fingers, hips grinding desperately against his face. You gripped Soobinâs hand like a lifeline while your other hand stayed tangled in Jungkookâs hair, pulling him harder against your pussy.
Jungkook doubled down, tongue fucking into you even deeper, spitting on your cunt again before diving back in with messy, hungry strokes. His fingers never stopped their brutal pace, curling and thrusting until your moans turned into near-screams of pleasure.
You were lost in it, whimpering, moaning, and shaking uncontrollably as the man between your legs showed you exactly what your body had been missing, while you held your boyfriendâs hand through every devastating wave of pleasure.
The pleasure built to an unbearable peak as Jungkookâs tongue fucked relentlessly into your dripping hole and his fingers curled against that perfect spot inside you. Your moans turned into desperate, broken cries, growing louder and more frantic with every filthy stroke of his skilled mouth. You gripped Soobinâs hand so tightly your knuckles turned white, your other hand fisting Jungkookâs dark hair as your hips bucked wildly against his face.
Suddenly, the coil inside you snapped.
You came hard on his tongue with a loud, shuddering scream. âJungkookâ! Fuck, Iâm cummingâ!â Your entire body convulsed violently, thighs clamping around his head as powerful waves of pleasure crashed through you. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around his fingers and tongue, gushing wetly against his mouth while he continued licking and sucking through every pulse of your orgasm. You thrashed on the chaise, moaning shamelessly, eyes squeezed shut as the intense release left you trembling and breathless. Soobinâs hand stayed firmly in yours the entire time, grounding you even as you fell apart under another manâs mouth.
Jungkook worked you through every last aftershock, licking you slowly and gently until your body finally sagged against the cushions, panting and dazed. Only then did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening with your cum. He looked devastatingly handsome like that, flushed, eyes dark with lust, and breathing heavily.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked between you and Soobin, voice low and husky but still controlled. âAre you both willing to continue?â he asked. âIâd like to move into demonstrating positions. The difference between what youâve been doing and what she actually needs.â
You didnât even hesitate. Still floating on the high of your orgasm, arousal already stirring again, you nodded eagerly. âYes,â you breathed, almost desperately. âPlease⊠I want more.â
Soobin swallowed hard, visibly affected by what heâd just witnessed, but he nodded as well. âIf she wants it⊠yes.â
A satisfied, almost predatory smile tugged at Jungkookâs lips. âGood,â he murmured. âIâm going to fuck her raw. Skin to skin. No condom. She needs to feel the full effect, the heat, the friction, everything. Then Iâll show you, Soobin, exactly how to make missionary feel incredible for her instead of just⊠adequate.â
Jungkook reached behind your back with skilled fingers and unclasped your bra. He slid the straps down your shoulders slowly, savoring the moment as he pulled the lace away and dropped it aside. Your breasts spilled free, nipples already hard and aching. He groaned softly at the sight before leaning down and capturing one nipple in his mouth.
He sucked on it hungrily, tongue swirling around the sensitive peak while his large hand kneaded the soft flesh of your other breast. He switched sides, giving the same devoted attention to the other nipple, sucking harder, grazing his teeth gently, then soothing with his tongue. The wet sounds of his mouth on your breasts filled the room as you moaned and arched into him, your body responding instantly.
After several long, indulgent minutes of worshipping your chest, Jungkook finally positioned himself between your spread thighs, after kicking his pants and boxers off. He gripped his thick, hard cock in one hand, stroking it slowly as he looked down at your flushed, dripping pussy. âWatch carefully,â he told Soobin, voice rough. âThis is how you claim her.â
He rubbed the swollen head of his cock up and down your slick folds, coating himself in your wetness, before pressing against your entrance. With a low groan, Jungkook pushed forward and slid into you in one long, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight, fluttering heat.
You cried out loudly at the stretch, your back arching sharply. He was big, thicker and longer than Soobin, and the raw, bare feeling of him inside you was overwhelming. âFuck⊠so tight,â Jungkook growled, holding still for a moment to let you adjust. Then he pulled back almost all the way before slamming back in, setting a rough, brutal pace immediately.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room as he fucked you hard and deep. Each powerful thrust rocked your entire body, your breasts bouncing with the force of it. Jungkookâs hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he drove into you again and again, the wet, filthy sounds of your pussy taking his cock filling the air. âThatâs it,â he groaned, eyes locked on your face. âTake my cock. Feel how deep I am?â
Your moans were loud and unrestrained, turning into near-screams every time he bottomed out inside you. The brutal pace left you shaking, gripping the cushions beneath you as wave after wave of intense pleasure rolled through your body.
Jungkookâs grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh with possessive strength. He used your body like a personal toy, pulling you down onto his thick cock with every brutal thrust. Instead of just fucking into you, he yanked your hips forward to meet him, slamming you onto his length over and over again in a relentless rhythm. The wet, filthy sound of your soaked pussy being filled echoed loudly in the room with every powerful motion. Each time he dragged you back down, his cock buried itself impossibly deep, the head kissing your cervix and sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure shooting through your entire body.
âFuckâ!â you cried out, voice hoarse and broken. Your head tossed back against the chaise, mouth falling open in a constant stream of moans and whimpers.
Jungkook glanced over at Soobin, breathing heavily but still in control. âSoobin,â he growled, never slowing the way he was manhandling you onto his cock. âPlay with her clit. Rub it while I fuck her. She needs the extra stimulation.â
Soobin hesitated only for a second before leaning closer. His hand trembled slightly as he reached between your bodies and found your swollen, sensitive clit. He began rubbing slow circles over it, just like heâd watched Jungkook do earlier. The added sensation was immediate and devastating.
Your moans instantly grew louder, turning into desperate, shameless cries. âOh my godâ! Itâs so good⊠so fucking goodâ Jungkook, your cock is so bigâ I canâtâ ahh!â The words spilled out of you in a messy, nonsensical stream.
Jungkook groaned in satisfaction at your words, his pace growing even more punishing. He kept yanking your hips down onto him with raw strength, using your body exactly how he wanted. The wet slap of skin against skin was constant now, your arousal dripping down his balls and soaking the chaise beneath you. Every brutal thrust made your breasts bounce heavily, your entire body jolting with the force of him claiming you.
Soobinâs fingers kept rubbing your clit, faster now, his eyes wide and dark as he watched you fall apart. âYou look so beautiful like this,â he whispered, voice thick with a mix of emotions. âAll fucked out⊠youâre glowing. So fucking pretty when youâre moaning like that.â
His words only pushed you higher. You squeezed Soobinâs hand tighter with your free one while your other hand clutched desperately at Jungkookâs forearm, nails digging into his tattooed skin. âYour dick is so big, it feels too good, I canât thinkâ please donât stopâ!â you babbled loudly, words slurring together between broken moans and gasps. Tears of overwhelming pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes as he continued to wreck you.
Jungkook smirked, dark eyes gleaming with lust and satisfaction. He adjusted his angle slightly and started pounding into you even harder, pulling you onto his cock with every snap of his hips. The new position made him hit that perfect spot inside you with devastating accuracy on every thrust. Sweat glistened on his forehead and neck, his shirt now clinging to his muscular chest from exertion.
âThatâs right,â he growled, voice rough and low. âFeel how deep I am? This is what your pussy needed. Not soft, polite sex. It needed to be ruined like this.â
He kept using your body ruthlessly, yanking you down onto him, grinding deep, then pulling back only to slam you onto his length again. Soobin never stopped rubbing tight, slick circles on your clit, his eyes flicking between your face and the sight of Jungkookâs thick cock disappearing inside you repeatedly.
The pleasure was blinding. Your moans echoed shamelessly through the room as another orgasm began rapidly building, even stronger than the first. Jungkook was fucking you better than you had ever been fucked in your life. The brutal pace of Jungkookâs cock slamming into you, combined with Soobinâs fingers rubbing relentless circles on your swollen clit, pushed you straight over the edge again.
Your second orgasm hit you like a freight train.
âJungkookâ! Iâm cummingâ fuck. â you screamed, your voice cracking as your entire body seized up. Your pussy clenched violently around his thick cock, fluttering and gushing as powerful waves of pleasure ripped through you. Your back arched sharply off the chaise, thighs shaking uncontrollably while Jungkook kept fucking you through it, dragging out every last pulse of your release. Soobinâs hand never stopped, prolonging the overwhelming sensation until you were sobbing with pleasure, tears slipping down your cheeks.
You were still twitching and gasping, trying to catch your breath, when Jungkook suddenly pulled out of you with a wet sound. Before you could even whimper at the loss, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing.
He turned and sat down on the chaise, pulling you with him so you straddled his lap facing him. He guided you down onto his cock again in one smooth motion, burying himself back inside your sensitive, fluttering pussy. This new position pressed your bodies flush together, chest to chest, your knees bent on either side of his hips.
âThis is called the lotus position,â Jungkook explained to Soobin, voice deep and slightly breathless as he held you firmly on his cock. âItâs intimate. Sheâs completely wrapped around me, which lets me hit every sensitive spot inside her. The closeness increases stimulation on her clit and lets her control the depth and rhythm while I guide her. It feels incredible for her because sheâs full and every movement grinds right against her g-spot.â
You barely had time to process his words before your body took over. Still trembling from your last orgasm, you started moving on him, slow at first, then faster, rolling and bouncing on his thick length with desperate need. The new angle made him feel even deeper, pressing against places you didnât even know existed.
âAhh! Jungkook!â you sobbed, pleasure bordering on too much. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders tightly, nails digging into his shirt as you rode him. Your head tipped back, mouth open in a constant stream of broken moans and cries. âItâs so deep⊠so fucking deep, oh my god.â
Tears continued slipping down your flushed cheeks as you moved faster, chasing the overwhelming pleasure. Your breasts bounced heavily with every roll of your hips, pussy swallowing his cock again and again with wet, obscene sounds.
Jungkook groaned deeply, his hands sliding down to grip your ass. He kneaded the soft, plump flesh roughly, spreading your cheeks as he helped guide you up and down on his cock. Thenâ smack, his palm came down hard on your right cheek, the sharp sound echoing through the room. You cried out at the sting, clenching tighter around him. âFuck, thatâs it,â he growled, slapping your ass again, harder this time. âRide me just like that. Use my cock.â
He buried his face between your bouncing tits, sucking one nipple into his hot mouth while his hands continued kneading and spanking your ass in rhythm with your movements. He groaned against your skin, tongue swirling and teeth grazing as he devoured you.
You were lost in itâ sobbing, moaning, and babbling nonsense while you rode him with everything you had.Your head stayed tipped back, eyes half-lidded and glassy with overwhelming pleasure as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. Soobin watched everything in stunned silence from just inches away, eyes dark and fixed on the way your body moved on Jungkookâs cock and how his hands owned your ass.
Jungkook pulled his mouth from your nipple just long enough to look up at your pleasure-drunk face, voice rough with lust. âThatâs my good girl⊠Keep fucking yourself on me. Let him see how pretty you look when youâre falling apart.â
You were completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure, rolling your hips desperately on Jungkookâs thick cock in this position. Your voice had grown hoarse from moaning, but his name still fell from your lips like a prayer. âJungkook⊠Jungkookâ fuck, Jungkookââ you whimpered repeatedly, your head tipped back and eyes glazed over.
Jungkook pulled his face from your breasts, lips shiny, and looked up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. His hands squeezed your ass firmly as he held you down on his cock, grinding up into you slowly. âWhat is it, pretty girl?â he asked, voice low and teasing, a smirk playing on his lips. âWhat do you need? Tell me. Use your words.â
You sobbed softly, still moving on him, drunk on the feeling of being so full. âI want it from behind,â you begged, voice shaky and desperate. âPlease⊠I want you to fuck me from behind.â
Jungkook let out a deep, amused chuckle that vibrated through his chest. âGreedy girl,â he murmured affectionately. Without warning, he lifted you off his cock, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. He easily maneuvered your body, turning you around on the chaise.
He guided you into position with strong, confident hands. âSoobin, sit down right here,â he instructed. Soobin obeyed, sitting on the chaise with his back against the cushions. Jungkook then pushed you forward until your face hovered just above Soobinâs lap, your elbows resting on either side of his knees. Your back was arched deeply, ass up and presented perfectly for Jungkook behind you.
You looked up at Soobin through your lashes, flushed and breathing hard, your cheek nearly brushing against the bulge in his pants.
Instead of immediately sliding his cock into you, Jungkook knelt behind you. He spread your ass cheeks wide with both hands, exposing you completely. He leaned in and sank his teeth gently into the soft flesh of your right ass cheek, biting and sucking hard enough to make you gasp sharply.
âIâm going to eat her ass now,â Jungkook explained to Soobin, voice calm but dripping with lust. âMost men skip this, but it feels incredible for her. It relaxes her and makes her even wetter. Watch.â Before you could fully prepare yourself, Jungkook buried his face between your cheeks.
A loud, broken cry tore from your throat the moment his warm, wet tongue licked a slow, filthy stripe over your tight hole. âOh my god!â you screamed, your whole body jerking forward. He licked you again, slower this time, swirling the tip of his tongue around your rim before pressing it inside you.
You were crying out uncontrollably now, the pleasure intense and strangely intimate. Your hands scrambled desperately for purchase, grabbing onto Soobinâs thighs and squeezing hard as Jungkook devoured your ass with filthy enthusiasm. He groaned against your skin, the vibrations making your eyes roll back.
His tongue pushed deeper, fucking into your tight hole with wet, obscene sounds while one of his hands reached underneath to rub firm circles on your clit. He alternated between long, broad licks and pointed thrusts of his tongue, eating you like a man starved. Every stroke sent jolts of sharp, dirty pleasure racing up your spine. âFuckâ Jungkook, it feels so fucking good!â you sobbed, pushing back against his face instinctively. Tears of overwhelming sensation rolled down your cheeks as you panted against Soobinâs thigh, looking up at him with glassy, fucked-out eyes.
Jungkook pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your wet skin. âHear how loud she gets when I eat her ass? This is what sheâs been missing.â Then he dove right back in, licking and sucking even more eagerly, his face pressed fully between your cheeks as he worked you open with his skilled tongue.
Your moans and cries filled the entire room, shameless and loud, while your hands gripped Soobinâs thighs like a lifeline, trembling as Jungkook continued. Jungkook didnât rush. He kept his face buried between your spread cheeks, devouring you with slow, filthy dedication. His tongue swirled and probed at your tight rim, licking long stripes from your dripping pussy up to your asshole before pushing inside again. Every time his tongue fucked into your ass, a fresh wave of overwhelming pleasure crashed through you, making your back arch deeper and your fingers dig harder into Soobinâs thighs.
Your hips pushed back against his face instinctively, chasing more of that dirty, intense sensation. He groaned deeply against your skin, the vibration traveling straight through you as he continued with even more enthusiasm. He spread your cheeks wider with both hands, fully exposing you, and spat directly onto your hole before diving back in, licking and sucking like he couldnât get enough.
Minutes stretched out in a haze of pleasure. Jungkook took his time, alternating between broad, sloppy licks and sharp, pointed thrusts of his tongue deep inside you. One of his hands stayed between your legs, rubbing slow, firm circles on your swollen clit while the other kneaded and slapped your ass cheek occasionally, the sharp smacks making you jolt and moan louder. You were a mess, sobbing, whimpering, and shaking as he continued rimming you relentlessly, pushing you closer and closer to the edge again without ever letting you tip over.
Only when your legs were trembling uncontrollably and your cries had turned into constant, desperate begging did Jungkook finally pull back. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rose onto his knees behind you, his voice rough with lust as he spoke to Soobin. âNow Iâm going to fuck her from behind. Hard. This position lets me go deeper and gives me full control.â
You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt the thick, blunt head of Jungkookâs cock pressing against your soaked entrance. In one powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, stretching you open around his thick length.
A loud, broken scream tore from your throat. "Fuck yes!" He didnât give you any time to adjust. He immediately set a brutal, punishing pace, slamming into you hard and deep. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoed loudly through the room with every thrust. He gripped your hips tightly, yanking you back onto his cock over and over again, using your body exactly how he wanted.
âFuckâ so tight,â he growled, voice low and strained.
Every brutal snap of his hips drove his cock impossibly deep, the head kissing your cervix with every stroke. Your elbows trembled as you tried to hold yourself up, face buried against Soobinâs thigh while your moans and cries grew louder and more broken. Jungkook reached forward and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back slightly so your back arched even more for him.
âYou like that?â he groaned, pounding into you mercilessly. âYou like being fucked like a little toy from behind?â
âYes! Yes, fuckâ Jungkook!â you sobbed, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. The angle was devastating. Every thrust ground against that perfect spot inside you, making your legs shake violently. Your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, soaking him with every rough stroke as he continued to rail you without mercy.
Jungkookâs pace was relentless, hard, fast, and animalistic. The wet, filthy sound of your arousal squelching around his cock mixed with the sharp slap of skin on skin. He kept one hand fisted in your hair and the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks, pulling you back onto him with every thrust like he was trying to bury himself even deeper.
Jungkook continued pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes, his hips snapping against your ass with a loud, rhythmic slap. Your moans were constant and broken, your body jolting forward with every brutal thrust while your face stayed pressed against Soobinâs thigh. Jungkookâs grip on your hips was iron-tight, fingers digging into your skin as he used you relentlessly.
He slowed his thrusts just enough to speak, his voice rough and commanding, yet still instructional. âSoobin,â he said, breathing heavily. âGrab her hips. Both hands. I want you to help move her back and forth on my cock. Feel how she takes me. Learn the rhythm she needs.â
Soobin hesitated for a moment, eyes wide as he watched Jungkookâs thick cock disappear inside you again and again. His cheeks were flushed dark red, but after a few seconds, he leaned forward and placed his hands on your hips, right beside Jungkookâs.
âThatâs it,â Jungkook encouraged, still buried deep inside you. âPull her back onto me when I thrust forward. Help her fuck herself on my cock. She loves it deep like this.â
Soobinâs hands tightened on your hips. At first his grip was gentle, almost uncertain, but as Jungkook started moving again, Soobin began pulling you back onto Jungkookâs cock in time with his thrusts. The added force made Jungkookâs cock slam even deeper inside you.
A loud, broken cry ripped from your throat. âOh my god!â you sobbed, eyes squeezing shut as the new sensation overwhelmed you. Soobinâs familiar hands pulling you back combined with Jungkookâs massive cock stretching and ruining you created an intensity youâd never felt before. Every time Soobin yanked your hips back, Jungkookâs thick length drove into you harder, filling you completely.
Jungkook groaned in approval. âGood. Harder, Soobin. She can take it. Look how her pussy is gripping me every time you pull her back.â
Soobinâs grip grew firmer, more confident. He started pulling your hips back with more strength, helping impale you on Jungkookâs cock over and over again. The wet, filthy sounds grew even louder â the obscene squelching of your soaked pussy mixed with the sharp slap of skin whenever your ass met Jungkookâs hips.
You were falling apart between them.
âFuckâ fuckâ itâs so deep!â you cried out, voice muffled against Soobinâs thigh. Your hands clutched desperately at Soobinâs legs, nails digging into his pants as your body was rocked between the two men. âJungkookâs cock is so big⊠Soobin, baby, heâs so deep inside meâ I canâtâ
Jungkook kept a steady, brutal pace while Soobin pulled you back onto him with every thrust. The dual control over your body made you feel completely used, a toy being shared between them. Jungkookâs cock kissed your cervix with every forceful pull, stretching your walls perfectly around his thickness. âThatâs it,â Jungkook growled, one hand moving up to grip the back of your neck while Soobin continued manipulating your hips. âFeel how sheâs dripping down my cock? Sheâs fucking loving this. Pull her harder, Soobin. Make her take every inch.â
Soobin obeyed, his fingers pressing deeper into your soft hips as he yanked you back more forcefully. The new intensity made your eyes roll back, loud, shameless moans spilling from your lips as Jungkook fucked you raw and Soobin helped drive you onto him again and again. You were trembling violently, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face, caught in the devastating rhythm the two of them created together.
The combined rhythm was absolutely devastating. Jungkookâs thick cock slamming into you while Soobin pulled your hips back with increasing confidence created a merciless, perfect storm of pleasure. Your moans had turned into constant, broken sobs as your body was rocked between them.
Jungkookâs breathing grew harsher, his thrusts becoming more erratic and deeper. âFuckâ Iâm close,â he growled, gripping your hip tighter while Soobin continued helping pull you back onto his cock. âGonna fill this pretty pussy up.â
You could only whimper in response, your mind hazy with overwhelming pleasure. Jungkookâs pace turned punishing, slamming into you with short, brutal strokes as he chased his release. With a deep, guttural groan, Jungkook buried himself to the hilt inside you and came hard. You felt every powerful pulse as he emptied himself deep inside your pussy, thick ropes of hot cum flooding your walls. He kept grinding into you, pushing his load even deeper while growling your name under his breath.
The feeling of Jungkook cumming so deep inside you triggered your own orgasm instantly. Jungkookâs grip on your neck tightened as he pounded into you even harder. âThatâs it, pretty girl. Cum on my cock. Let go.â
The pressure built impossibly high, tighter and hotter, until it finally snapped. You came harder than you ever had in your life. A loud, guttural scream tore from your throat as your entire body seized up. Your pussy clenched violently around Jungkookâs cock, and then you were squirting, hard. Clear, hot liquid gushed out around his thick cock with every thrust, soaking his hips, dripping down your thighs. You shook uncontrollably, sobbing and moaning as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed through you. Jungkook didnât stop, fucking you through your orgasm and prolonging it until your vision went white and your legs gave out completely.
âFuck, look at her,â Jungkook groaned, voice rough with satisfaction. âSheâs squirting everywhere. Good girl⊠such a messy, beautiful girl.â
Your body finally went limp, trembling with aftershocks as Jungkook slowed his thrusts and eventually stilled deep inside you. He stayed buried in your pulsing heat for a long moment, letting you feel every inch of him while you tried to catch your breath. Soobinâs hands gently rubbed your hips, soothing the marks heâd left behind.
Jungkook eventually pulled out slowly, a rush of your combined juices dripping from your ruined pussy. He helped you collapse gently onto the chaise, turning you onto your back so you could breathe easier. Your chest heaved, body covered in a light sheen of sweat, cheeks flushed, and eyes glassy with exhaustion and satisfaction.
Jungkook sat back on his heels, breathing heavily but looking pleased. He glanced at Soobin, then down at your spent body. âThat,â he said calmly, âis what she needs. Not just gentle, loving sex. She needs to be fucked properly, deeply, roughly, and without hesitation. She needs variety. She needs to be used and worshipped at the same time.â He looked at you softly. âHow do you feel?â
You could barely speak, still floating. âIncredibleâŠâ you whispered hoarsely. âIâve never⊠felt anything like that.â
Jungkook smiled, then turned back to Soobin. âYou did well today. Helping move her like that was a great start. Weâll work on building your confidence and skill. This was only the first session.â
He helped you sit up eventually, handing you a soft towel and a bottle of water from a nearby table. While you recovered, he spoke to both of you about aftercare, communication, and homework, things for Soobin to practice at home before the next appointment.
As you slowly got dressed, your legs still shaky, you couldnât stop stealing glances at Jungkook. The memory of how he had completely ruined you while Soobin watched was burned into your mind. Soobin was quiet, but he stayed close to you, gently rubbing your back and pressing a kiss to your temple. There was a new tension in the air, something shifted between all three of you.
Before you left, Jungkook leaned against his desk, arms crossed, looking unfairly composed and handsome. âBook your next session soon,â he said with a small, knowing smirk. âWe still have a lot to work on⊠and I think you both know now how much she needs it.â
You left the office leaning on Soobinâs arm, body sore in the most delicious way, your mind already replaying everything that had happened⊠and wondering how much further Jungkook would take you next time.
â¶ïčThe year is 1922, late May, when the days stretch long and golden and cherry blossoms drift through the air like scattered silk. You are the preacherâs daughter, meant for a quiet, respectable life you never asked for. But none of it matters when it comes to Kim Taehyung. With him, beneath the cherry trees, the world grows softer. Time slows. Every stolen kiss tastes like summer and ruin. You know it cannot last. You know the townâs eyes are sharp and its judgment unforgiving. Still, you choose himâ desperately, recklesslyâ because some loves are worth breaking your entire world for.
The air inside the First Baptist Church of Willow Creek hung thick and heavy that Sunday morning, like molasses left too long in the sun. It was late May 1922, and the world outside was beginning to roar with the reckless spirit of a new decade, but within these whitewashed walls, time moved slower, weighed down by centuries of fire and brimstone. Dust motes danced in the slanted beams of light that pierced the tall, narrow windows, catching on the polished oak pews and the brass fixtures that gleamed like watchful eyes. The scent of old hymnals, candle wax, and faint lavender sachets clung to every breath.
You sat ramrod straight in the third pew, the picture of devout perfection. Your flowing white dress, modest yet elegantly tailored with delicate lace at the collar and cuffs, whispered softly against the wooden seat as you shifted. Over your hands lay pale lace gloves, their intricate pattern like spiderwebs spun from purity itselfâ fragile, beautiful, and meant to hide nothing while revealing everything about the girl who wore them.
Next to you, your mother sat with her head bowed slightly, her own gloved hands folded tightly in prayer, knuckles pale from years of gripping both Bibles and the reins of a respectable household. Your younger sister, barely thirteen, mirrored her on your other side, her small face solemn, lips moving silently along with the words of your father.
Reverend Elias's voice rolled through the sanctuary like thunder wrapped in velvet, very deep and commanding, each word carved from the same righteous stone that built this town. He stood tall behind the pulpit, his black coat severe against the white collar that marked him as Godâs chosen mouthpiece in this corner of the South. Today, like so many Sundays lately, his sermon burned with warnings against the creeping sins of the modern age, the flappers with their scandalously short hems and painted lips, the men who chased whiskey and easy women instead of honest labor, the godless tide of the Roaring Twenties threatening to swallow up decent Christian souls.
âBrothers and sisters,â he intoned, his gaze sweeping over the congregation like the eye of the Lord Himself, âthe devil does not always come with horns and flames. Sometimes he arrives in the form of a smooth tongue, a lazy eye, a heart that knows no fear of the Almighty. He preys on the weak-willed, those who would trade their immortal souls for fleeting pleasures. How many daughters have been led astray by wicked men? How many sons have traded their birthright for cigarettes and idle hands?â
His words settled over you like a heavy quilt, warm yet suffocating. You kept your hands folded perfectly in your lap, eyes fixed forward on the large wooden cross behind your father, but your heart beat a traitorâs rhythm beneath your breast. Innocent you were, raised on scripture and Sunday school and the certainty that your path was already written in the Book of Life, but you were not foolish. You understood every layered warning in your fatherâs voice. You knew what the town whispered about boys like Kim Taehyung.
And still, you loved him.
He was there, as he always was on Sundays when the loneliness grew too sharp or the pull of you became too strong to resist. Several rows behind you, tucked into the shadowed back corner where the light barely reached, sat the orphan boy the whole town loved to scorn. You could feel his presence like the low rumble of distant summer thunder, he was unseen, yet impossible to ignore. No family beside him. No respectable suit. Just a worn jacket that hung loose on his lean frame and that unruly dark hair that always looked like heâd just come from running through the fields or fighting in some back alley.
Your mind wandered from the sermon, drifting to memories of last week beneath the cherry trees. The way his calloused fingers had brushed yours as he offered you that forbidden cigarette. The sharp, acrid taste of smoke filling your lungs, making you cough and laugh all at once while he watched you with those dark, knowing eyes that always seemed to see straight through your carefully constructed halo. You had vowed never to try it again, truly, you had, but the memory of his low chuckle and the way heâd pulled you close afterward, whispering wicked little secrets against the shell of your ear, made heat bloom low in your stomach even now, in the house of God.
Your motherâs soft voice joined the collective prayer rising around you, and your sister followed suit, their words blending into a gentle murmur of devotion. You moved your lips in time with them, the familiar verses falling automatically from your tongue, but your soul was elsewhere. Slowly, carefullyâ heart hammering like a caged birdâ you turned your head just enough to steal a single glance over your shoulder.
Taehyung leaned back against the pew, one arm draped casually along the backrest, his posture too relaxed for this sacred place. His eyesâ those beautiful, dangerous eyes, were already waiting for you. When they met yours, the corner of his mouth lifted into that crooked, private smile that always felt like sin wrapped in silk. Your breath caught. You answered with a small, coy curve of your own lips, the kind he had once told you made his chest ache with want. Just a fleeting second. Just enough.
Then you turned back around, cheeks warming beneath the weight of potential discovery, pulse fluttering. The service continued, your fatherâs voice rising and falling like waves against an unyielding shore, preaching of temptation and ruin and the narrow path to salvation. But all you could think about was the moment the final amen would sound. The way you would slip away under the guise of helping dear Delia with the Sunday feast, as you always did.
Mercifully the final âAmenâ rolled through the sanctuary like a dying echo of thunder, so very heavy and lingering in the thick, humid air. Sunlight poured stronger through the tall windows now, painting the wooden floors in warm gold and catching on the faint haze of incense that still clung to the rafters.
The congregation stirred as one, the creak of old pews and rustle of starched clothes filling the space. Hymns had been sung, sins had been named, and for a brief hour the town had bent its knee before God. But now the world outside called once more, temptation waiting patiently just beyond the whitewashed doors.
As the preacherâs family, you remained in your place while others began to file out. It was tradition. An expectation. Your father stood tall at the end of the pew like a sentinel, his black coat absorbing the light, while your mother smoothed the front of her modest navy dress with practiced grace. Your little sister fidgeted beside you, her white gloves now slightly askew. You rose with them, heart still racing from that stolen glance earlier, the lace of your dress brushing softly against your ankles like a secret caress. The air felt heavier now, charged with the scent of warm wood, candle smoke, and the faint sweetness of spring drifting in from outside.
One by one, the townsfolk approached, offering hands and murmured thanks. You smiled the way you had been taught, with the gentle, demure image of a preacherâs daughter touched by divine light. Your gloved hand met calloused palms and soft ones alike, your voice a quiet melody of âThank you for comingâ and âMay the Lord bless your week.â Your father conversed deeply with several of the elder men nearby, their voices low and serious, discussing crops or politics, and the moral decay they saw spreading like mold across the South. You kept your posture perfect, chin slightly lifted, the picture of purity in your flowing white dress.
Then he came, Taehyung moved through the thinning crowd with that loose, careless stride that always set him apart, almost like a wolf who had wandered into a flock of sheep and decided he liked the view. His worn jacket hung open over a simple shirt, dark hair slightly tousled. He approached your family with deliberate slowness, hands in his pockets, that faint smirk playing at the corner of his lipsâ a challenge to the very air around him.
âGood morning, sir,â Taehyung said smoothly as he reached your father first, extending his hand.
Your fatherâs eyes narrowed, sharp as the edge of a sermon blade. âRefer to me as Father,â he corrected, voice low but carrying the weight of authority honed from years in the pulpit.
Taehyungâs grin widened into something slow and unbothered, as he flashed just enough teeth to border on insolent. He gave a small nod, dark eyes gleaming with quiet mischief. âYes, Father.â
The word dripped from his tongue like honey laced with sin. You watched your fatherâs jaw tighten, a flicker of annoyance crossing his stern features. The two men shook hands with your fatherâs grip firm and testing, Taehyungâs was steady, almost lazy. The moment stretched into something thick with unspoken judgment. To the town, Taehyung was little more than an orphan boy destined for nothing but trouble and an early grave. He smoked cigarettes, got into fights, had idle hands that refused the path of righteousness. But to you⊠he was the living pulse beneath your skin.
He moved on to your mother next, polite as could be, offering her a respectful nod and a gentle handshake. âMaâam.â Your motherâs smile was tight, polite but cool, the way one might greet a stray dog that had learned a few manners. Then to your sister, who gave a shy little curtsy as he shook her small hand, his voice softening just a touch for her.
And finally⊠you.
Taehyung turned to you, and the world seemed to narrow to the space between your bodies. His eyes locked onto yours. They were deep, knowing, full of every wicked secret the two of you had shared beneath the cherry trees. A slow, private grin curved his lips, meant only for you. When your gloved hand slipped into his, his fingers closed around yours with deliberate pressure, tighter than he had held anyone elseâs. The warmth of his skin bled through the delicate lace like fire through silk. For one heartbeat, two, three, he held on.
âGood day, Miss,â he murmured, voice low enough that only you could catch the velvet edge beneath the words.
The touch lingered half a second too longâ long enough for heat to bloom across your cheeks like wild roses in summer. Your breath caught, a soft flutter in your chest, innocent heart racing with the thrill of something forbidden and holy all at once. He released your hand at last, but not before his thumb brushed once, slowly, across your knuckles in a secret promise.
You watched him walk away, unable to stop yourself. His shoulders moved with easy confidence through the remaining crowd, disappearing toward the heavy oak doors and the bright sunlight beyond. The blush on your face felt like a brand. When you finally turned back, your younger sister, Alma, was staring up at you with wide, curious eyesâ too observant for her age. The silence between you stretched like a taut string.
âWhat are you looking at?â you asked softly, trying to keep your voice light and steady, though your pulse still betrayed you. She only shook her head, small lips pressing together in that stubborn way children sometimes do when they sense something they donât yet have words for. Her gaze flicked once toward the doors where Taehyung had vanished, then back to you. No accusation. Not yet at least, just quiet watching. And for some reason that frightened you. Yet, you shook the feeling away.
The churchyard slowly emptied under the heavy golden light of late morning, the light turning the dust on the road into floating specks of fire. Carsâ some new and gleaming with the reckless optimism of the Roaring Twenties, others old and coughing like weary sinners, began to rumble to life along the gravel path. Their engines growled low and reluctant, as tires crunched over loose stones as families piled in, waving polite goodbyes and clutching Bibles to their chests like shields against the coming week.
You stood just beyond the wide front steps, the flowing white fabric of your dress catching the breeze. Your father remained deep in conversation with a cluster of the congregationâs men near the oak tree by the gate, their voices were low and serious, discussing the price of cotton and the latest rumors from the city as men did.
His black coat absorbed the sunlight, making him look like a shadow cast long across the grass. Nearby, your mother held court with several of the other wives, their pastel Sunday hats bobbing like delicate flowers as they exchanged recipes and quiet judgments about who had worn what to service that day. Their laughter was soft and restrained, always mindful of Godâs listening ear.
Your younger sister Alma had already escaped the weight of it all. Little Beth, her freckled best friend, had whisked her away with giggles and conspiratorial whispers. The two girls now knelt in the dirt beside the church steps, playing marbles with a carefree joy you envied. The glass spheres clicked and rolled like tiny, colorful sins scattering across the ground, catching the light in brilliant flashes. Almaâs white stockings were already dusty at the knees, but no one scolded her yet.
For one precious moment, you were alone.
You turned slowly, heart fluttering like a moth against lantern glass, and let your gaze drift past the side of the whitewashed building toward the hidden grove behind the church. There, beneath the cherry trees, was a small, unmistakable figure, lazily reclined against the trunk of the largest one like he belonged to the shadows themselves. Your Taehyung. Even from this distance he looked every bit the beautiful ruin the town whispered about: long legs stretched out before him, one arm draped casually over a bent knee, dark hair falling into his eyes. As you watched, he reached up with idle grace and plucked a ripe cherry from a low-hanging branch. The fruit disappeared between his lips, and he chewed slowly, almost thoughtfully, a faint smear of red staining his mouth like the evidence of some small, delicious transgression.
A soft smile bloomed across your face, morphing into an expression unbidden and unstoppable. He couldnât see it clearly from where he lay, half-hidden by dappled shade and drifting petals, and yet you felt certain he could sense it anyway. The he could sense that invisible thread pulling taut between you. In that moment he looked like temptation made flesh: He was dangerous, lovely, and utterly free from the expectations that chained everyone else in this town.
You lingered only a heartbeat longer before turning back toward your mother. The lace gloves still felt warm where Taehyung had gripped your hand earlier, the memory burning against your skin. With careful steps, you approached her small circle, the hem of your dress brushing the grass.
âMother,â you said softly, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, âIâm going to head over to Deliaâs now. Sheâll be waiting for help with the Sunday feast.â
Your mother turned, her face softening with that familiar mix of pride and mild concern. The other wives offered polite smiles, their eyes flicking over your perfect white dress and modest posture with approval. âAlright, dear. Be sure youâre back before dark,â she said, brushing an invisible speck of dust from your sleeve with maternal affection. âAnd mind your manners. The world out there isnât as kind as it seems on the Lordâs day.â
âYes, maâam,â you replied obediently, lowering your eyes the way you had been taught since you could walk. The lie tasted strangely sweet on your tongueâ like the cherry Taehyung had just eaten.
With one last nod to the group, you slipped away from the gathering, heart pounding a steady, traitorous rhythm beneath your ribs. The sounds of the churchyard faded behind you: car doors slamming and their engines sputtering to life, along with the distant laughter of Alma and Beth still clicking marbles across the dirt. You moved with purpose but not haste, circling around the side of the church where the grass grew longer and wilder, hidden from prying eyes by the buildingâs broad shadow.
Each step carried you further from righteousness and closer to him. The air grew sweeter here, heavy with the perfume of the blooming cherry trees. Leaves drifted lazily through the air like scattered silk, brushing against your cheeks and catching in the lace of your gloves. Your white dress seemed almost too bright against the dappled green and pink of the grove, a symbol of purity walking willingly into the arms of sin. And there he waited, lounging against the tree. As you drew closer, Taehyung lifted his head, dark eyes finding yours with that slow, knowing smile that always made your stomach twist in the most unholy way.
You lowered yourself beside him with natural grace, the grass yielding softly beneath the flowing fabric of your Sunday dress. There was no hesitation in the movement; this spot beneath the largest cherry tree had become your unspoken altar over the past months. Taehyungâs dark eyes tracked you the entire way, a slow, hungry gaze that made heat bloom beneath your skin. The moment your body settled near his, his arm slid around your waist with quiet certainty, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of his chest. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his thin shirt, feeling it thump strong and alive against your cheek as he tucked you closer.
âI missed you,â he whispered, the words rough and low like smoke curling through the air. His lips pressed tenderly to the crown of your head, lingering there as if he could breathe you in. The faint scent of cigarettes and wild summer clung to him, a smell that should have repelled a girl like you but instead made your stomach flutter with forbidden longing.
You let out a soft, breathy giggle, tilting your face up to look at him. The sound was light and musical, similar to the sound of wind chimes in a place where such innocence felt dangerously out of place. âTaehyung,â you murmured, amusement dancing in your voice, âitâs only been less than a week since I last saw you.â
He gave you that crooked, devastating smile, the one that always made your resolve crumble like dry communion bread. âEven that is too long,â he replied, voice dropping into something deeper, a little more intimate. His fingers brushed a stray petal from your hair with gentleness.
Reaching up with his free hand, he plucked a plump, glistening cherry from a low-hanging branch. The fruit was deep crimson, almost sinful in its ripeness, juice already beading at the stem where heâd pulled it free. He brought it slowly to your lips, eyes never leaving yours. You parted them obediently, letting him place the cherry on your tongue. Sweetness exploded across your mouth as you bit downâ warm, tart, and perfectly ripe. A small drop of juice escaped the corner of your lips, and Taehyungâs gaze darkened as he watched it.
You swallowed, still smiling up at him. âYou really got under my fatherâs skin today,â you said softly, tracing a gloved finger along the edge of his jacket. âThe way you called him âsirâ instead of Father⊠I thought he might start preaching at you right there in the aisle.â
Taehyung let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. âGood,â he said simply, no trace of regret in his tone. His eyes gleamed with quiet defiance, it both thrilled and terrified you.
The breeze picked up slightly, sending another flurry of leaves swirling around you both like pale silk veils. You nestled deeper into his embrace, savoring the solid feel of him. âWhat have you been doing all week?â you asked, your voice gentle but threaded with concern.
He was quiet for a long moment, staring out through the trees toward some unseen horizon. His jaw tightened. âLooking for work,â he finally answered. âItâs harder than it should be right now⊠with so many men coming back from the war, everyoneâs scrambling for the same few jobs. Doors donât open easy when your last name doesnât mean anything and your hands have calluses instead of clean fingernails.â
You felt the weight behind his words, the quiet frustration of a boy the world had already decided was going nowhere. Then he added, almost too casually, âIâve been thinking about enlisting.â
Your head snapped up immediately, eyes wide with bewildered fear. The thought of him leavingâ of him walking into smoke and gunfire and uncertaintyâ sent a cold spike through your chest. Taehyung looked down at your expression and his features softened. He lifted his hand and gently patted the top of your head, smoothing your carefully pinned hair with affectionate patience.
âI wonât,â he assured you quietly. But something in his eyes made you unsure if you could fully believe him. There was a restlessness in Taehyung lately, a shadow that even the beauty of these cherry trees couldnât quite chase away.
You hesitated, then offered softly, âI could ask my father if thereâs any honest work around the church. Mending the roof, tending the grounds, anything like thatâŠâ
Taehyung shook his head before you could finish, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. âNot a good idea, sweetheart. I only show up to that church to see you anyway. Canât imagine your father would take too kindly to me working there while thinking about his perfect daughter every Sunday.â
You sighed, resting your hand over his heart. âItâs not so bad to go to God for guidance, you know,â you whispered earnestly. âIâll pray for you to find proper work soon. Real work that lets you stand tall.â
He stayed quiet after that, his large hand running slowly up and down your arm in long, soothing strokes. The touch left trails of warmth beneath the thin fabric of your sleeve, raising gooseflesh in its wake. Then his voice came, low and raw, almost cracked at the edges: âI just want to be worthy of you.â
The confession pierced straight through your innocent heart like a thorn hidden beneath rose petals. You shifted in his lap, turning fully toward him until you could cup his face between your lace-gloved hands. His skin was warm, jaw sharp and slightly rough beneath your palms. Those beautiful, troubled eyes met yours, carrying the weight of every hardship the world had thrown at him. âKim Taehyung,â you whispered, voice trembling with fierce, heartfelt conviction, âyou are worthy of me⊠and so much more. Just as you are.â
You leaned in and kissed him softly. The press of your lips was gentle at first, sweet and lingering, tasting faintly of the cherry he had fed you. Taehyung smiled against your mouth, that heartbreaking, beautiful smile, before kissing you back with quiet hunger. One of his hands came up to cradle the back of your neck, holding you close as the world around you faded into nothing but the steady rhythm of two hearts beating too close to damnation.
The kiss lingered between you, sweet and trembling on the edge of something deeper. Slowly, you pulled away, just enough to rest your forehead against his. Your breaths mingled in the narrow space between you. The world felt suspended in this hidden groveâ time stretching like warm taffy under the late May sun. His skin was warm against yours, slightly damp from the humid Southern air, and you could smell the faint trace of cherries and smoke that always clung to him like a second shadow.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply breathed him in, eyes closed, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat anchor you. Then, unable to resist, you tilted your head and kissed him again, softly this time, more reverently. Your lace-gloved hands remained cupping his face, thumbs brushing along his sharp cheekbones with all the tenderness your innocent heart could offer.
Taehyung let out a quiet sigh against your lips before pulling back just enough to speak, his voice low and rough, threaded with the weight of things unsaid. âNamjoon enlisted two months ago,â he murmured, dark eyes searching yours. âI got a letter from him last week. He says the benefits are good⊠decent pay. The families of soldiers are being taken care ofâ food, housing, respect even. He told me I should think about it. That it might be the only real chance a guy like me has.â
The words landed heavily between you, like stones dropped into still water. You felt your chest tighten, a cold bloom of fear spreading through your ribs. You shook your head slowly at first, then more insistently, your perfectly pinned hair loosening slightly as a few strands fell across your flushed cheeks. You didn't want to talk about this again, not when everything felt so perfect suspended in this moment, you needed it to last.
âNo,â you whispered, voice trembling but fierce. âI donât care about any of that, Taehyung. I donât need benefits or money or the townâs respect. Iâd rather have you hereâ aliveâ than any of those things. Iâd rather struggle with you beneath these trees than watch you leave and wonder every night if youâre coming back.â
He watched you carefully, his expression solemn, the playful spark in his eyes dimming into a quieter, heavier shade. The cherry trees seemed to lean in closer, their leaves falling thicker now as if the very air mourned the possibility. Taehyung nodded once, the movement somewhat slow and deliberate, but he remained silent.
That silence stretched between you like a taut wire, vibrating with everything he wasnât saying and the restlessness that lived in his bones, with the shame of having nothing to offer, the pull of a world that promised purpose to broken boys like him.
You lifted one hand and gently kissed his cheek, right where his jaw met his ear, your lips brushing against the faint stubble there. Your fingers slid into his dark hair, running through the soft strands with slow, soothing strokes, trying to memorize the feeling in case the future ever tried to steal him away. The petals caught in his hair like tiny stars against midnight.
âWhat are you thinking?â you asked softly, still cradling his face, your innocent eyes wide and searching.
A slow, beautiful smile curved Taehyungâs lips, very gentle this time, almost reverent. He leaned into your touch, eyes half-lidded as he studied every detail of your face in the dappled light. âIâm thinking about how beautiful you are,â he said quietly, the words rolling off his tongue like warm honey, just the way you loved. âSitting here in your white dress, petals in your hair, looking at me like Iâm worth something. Like I could be more.â
The sincerity in his voice made your heart flutter wildly, a traitorous bird trapped beneath your ribs. Heat rushed to your cheeks, painting them a delicate rose that rivaled the blossoms overhead. You let out a soft giggle, a sound like light and music, bubbling up from that deeply innocent part of you that still believed love could rewrite fate. The sound danced through the grove, mingling with the whisper of leaves and the distant call of a mockingbird.
âYouâre going to make me blush even more,â you murmured between giggles, hiding your face briefly against his neck, though the smile never left your lips. His arms tightened around you in response, pulling you impossibly closer. The air felt heavier now, thick with the ripe scent of cherries, warm grass, and the faint, earthy promise of rain gathering somewhere beyond the horizon.
You reached upward again, your lace-gloved fingers brushing through the leaves until they closed around another perfect cherry. It was heavy and warm from the sun, its skin a deep, glistening crimson that looked almost sinful against the pale innocence of your Sunday dress. Taehyungâs eyes followed every movement, dark with intent, as you plucked it free and brought it slowly to his lips.
âHere,â you whispered, voice soft and shy but still laced with something bolder. You pressed the cherry gently against his lower lip, watching as he opened his mouth to accept it. He took the fruit between his teeth with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving yours. The way he bit down, the subtle movement of his jaw, the faint smear of red juice that stained his lipsâ it all stirred thoughts in you that made heat rush to your cheeks and lower places you dared not name.
Lord, forgive me, you prayed silently, eyes fluttering for just a moment. Forgive these wicked thoughts. I am still pure for him⊠I am saving myself for our future. But these feelings⊠they burn so sweetly.
You were a virgin, body untouched in the most sacred sense, and you clung to that truth with quiet conviction. One day, you believed with all your innocent heart, you would stand before God and your father as Taehyungâs wife. But the two of you had already wandered down shadowed pathsâ trembling touches beneath clothing, breathless explorations that left you gasping his name beneath these very trees. Secrets you could only confess to God alone in the dark hours of the night, never daring to speak them aloud where your father might hear. He would skin Taehyung alive if he knew.
Taehyung chewed the cherry slowly, almost seductively, his tongue darting out to catch the juice. A small, knowing smile curved his stained lips.
âYouâre staring, sweetheart,â he murmured, voice low and rough like velvet dragged over gravel. âGot something on your mind?â
You didnât answer with words. Instead, you leaned forward and captured his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Your tongues met instantly, intertwining with growing heat as the sweet taste of cherry passed between you. The stem was caught in the dance, and with playful skill you had learned from him, you worked it together until it knotted neatly. When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you drew the tied stem from between your lips with a shy, delighted giggle, holding it up between your fingers like a small trophy.
âLook,â you said softly, showing him the perfect knot. âWe did it again.â
Taehyungâs eyes sparkled with affection as he watched you, his large hands sliding slowly up and down your sides, tracing the curve of your waist through the thin white fabric. âMy sweet, clever girl,â he murmured, voice warm with praise. âYou taste like heaven and summer cherries. So damn sweet it hurts.â
You ducked your head, a fresh wave of shyness washing over you even as pleasure bloomed in your chest. âTaehyungâŠâ you whispered, half-protest, half-plea.
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. âDonât hide from me, sweetheart. I love when you get all shy like this. Makes me want to ruin you even more⊠in the best way.â
His lips found your cheek first, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses there before trailing slowly downward. He lingered at the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, then moved to the delicate line of your collarbone, sucking gently enough to draw a trembling breath from you. His hands continued their slow exploration, sliding from your waist up to your ribcage, thumbs brushing teasingly just beneath the swell of your breasts through the modest fabric of your dress.
You leaned into his touch without hesitation, arching your back slightly to give him more access. A soft, breathy sigh escaped your lips, melting into a quiet, needy moan as his palms ghosted higher, barely grazing over the peaks of your breasts.
âDoes that feel good?â he whispered against your skin, lips brushing the neckline of your dress. âTell me, honey.â
âYesâŠâ you breathed, voice barely above a whisper. âIt feels⊠so good, Taehyung.â He smiled against your collarbone, pressing another lingering kiss there before moving lower, lips trailing over the fabric covering the top of your breasts. His hands grew bolder but still gentle, cupping and caressing with reverent hunger.
âYou have no idea how beautiful you look right now,â he murmured, voice husky. You let out another soft moan, fingers threading through his dark hair as you pulled him closer. The air felt thicker now, humid and sweet with the scent of overripe cherries and warm skin, wrapping around the two of you.
Taehyung captured your mouth again in a deeper kiss, slower this time, more consuming. His lips moved against yours with deliberate hunger, tongue sliding in to taste the lingering sweetness of cherries and innocence. As he kissed you, one large hand rose to fully cup your breast through the thin white fabric of your Sunday dress, squeezing with gentle possessiveness. The heat of his palm bled through the layers, making your nipple tighten instantly beneath his touch. His other hand trailed downward, sliding slowly over your ribcage, across the soft plane of your stomach, and then lower still, resting heavily on your thigh with clear intent.
You whimpered softly into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss.
He pulled back just enough to breathe, lips brushing yours as he whispered, âYou feel so good⊠so perfect.â Then he began kissing down the elegant line of your neck, open-mouthed and reverent, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin until you shivered. His hand continued kneading your breast, thumb circling slowly over the peak.
âSweetheartâŠâ he murmured against your collarbone, voice rough with restraint, âcan I move your dress down? I want to see you.â
Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, a mix of pure innocence and reckless desire. You knew this was crossing another line. You knew you should feel more shame. But all you felt was love, burning hotter than guilt. âYes,â you breathed, barely audible. âYes, Taehyung.â
With careful, almost worshipful hands, he tugged the front of your modest white dress downward. The fabric yielded easily, slipping over your shoulders and pooling around your waist, finally baring your full, beautiful breasts to the warm Southern air and to his hungry gaze. They were soft and heavy, nipples already pebbled from his earlier touches, glowing faintly in the dappled light filtering through the warm sun. Taehyung let out a low, reverent sound, a half-groan, and half-prayer. âGod⊠look at you.â
He leaned in without hesitation, his mouth attaching to one rosy nipple. The wet heat of his tongue circled it slowly before he sucked, gentle at first, then with more pressure, drawing the sensitive peak deeper into his mouth. His hand continued to caress the other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers in time with his sucking.
A soft, breathy moan escaped your lips. âTaehyungâŠâ The sound was delicate, trembling with both pleasure and the lingering weight of your upbringing. You arched into him instinctively, one hand threading through his dark hair, holding him closer to your chest as another quiet moan slipped free.
He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending sparks straight through you. He switched to the other breast, lavishing it with the same slow, devoted attentionâ licking, sucking, gently grazing his teeth until your moans grew a little louder, a little needier. Leaves kept falling around you both, landing on your bare skin and in his hair like silent blessings from a God who was surely looking away.
âYouâre so beautiful like this,â he whispered against the wet skin of your breast, voice husky. âMy perfect girlâŠ" You could only respond with another soft moan, body trembling in his arms.
Taehyung lifted his head from your chest, lips glistening, eyes dark with hunger and reverence. He looked up at you through his dark lashes, his breath warm against your damp skin. âSweetheartâŠâ he whispered, voice low and rough like smoke curling through honey. âCan I taste you? Please. I know youâre sweeter than any cherry on these trees.â
Your heart stuttered violently in your chest. Heat flooded your face and lower, a rush of innocent shame warring with desperate want. You bit your lip, eyes wide, but the word slipped out before you could stop it. âYes,â you breathed, barely audible.
A slow, devastating smile spread across his lips. With careful hands, he helped shift you until your back rested against the rough trunk of the ancient cherry tree where he had been leaning earlier. The bark pressed into your skin through the fabric bunched at your waistâ a small, grounding discomfort that only heightened every sensation. You leaned back, white dress pooled around your hips, breasts still bare and flushed from his earlier worship, leaves scattered across your skin like fallen stars.
Taehyung sank to his knees before you in the soft grass, looking every bit like a sinner at prayer. His hands were rough from hard living, yet so gentle with you as he gripped your knees with tender reverence and slowly parted them. The cool evening air kissed your inner thighs as he pushed the fabric of your dress higher.
He took his time, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your knee, then lower to your ankle, as if every inch of you was sacred ground. Your lace-gloved hands clutched desperately at the grass on either side of you, fingers digging into the earth as your breathing grew shallow. âTaehyungâŠâ you whimpered softly, watching him with wide, innocent eyes.
He hooked his fingers into the delicate lace of your underwear, glancing up at you once for permission. When you gave the smallest nod, he slowly dragged the fabric down your legs, letting it slip away completely. You were bare before him now, completely exposed under the swaying cherry trees. The vulnerability made you tremble.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he murmured, almost in awe. âLook at you⊠all pink and perfect for me.â
He leaned in, pressing reverent kisses along your inner thighs, moving higher with agonizing slowness. Soft, breathy moans kept falling from your lips, growing needier with every touch. Your gloved hands tightened in the grass as anticipation coiled tight in your belly.
Finally, Taehyung leaned forward and latched his mouth to your core. The first slow, deliberate lick drew a broken moan from deep in your throat. His tongue was warm and skillful, tasting you with devoted hunger, savoring every drop of your sweetness like a man starved. He groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.
âOhâ TaehyungâŠâ you gasped, head falling back against the tree trunk. Your hips twitched involuntarily toward his mouth, chasing the overwhelming sensation. He gripped your thighs gently but firmly, holding you open for him as he devoured you with slow, filthy reverenceâ licking, sucking, exploring every sensitive fold with his tongue. The wet sounds mingled with your soft, trembling moans and the whisper of leaves overhead.
Taehyungâs mouth moved against your core with slow, worshipful hunger. His tongue traced long, deliberate strokes over your most sensitive parts, savoring you like the rarest fruit. He alternated between broad, soothing licks and gentle suction on your swollen bud, each movement precise and full of reverence. Soft, breathy moans spilled from your lips before you could stop them. You quickly pressed your gloved hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds as best you could, though the lace did little to silence the trembling pleasure.
Your other hand sank into his dark hair, fingers tightening in the soft strands as waves of sensation rolled through you. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle suck, sent sparks dancing up your spine. Your white dress remained bunched around your waist, your breasts still exposed to the warm breeze, nipples tight from both the air and overwhelming emotion.
âTaehyungâŠâ you whimpered into your gloved palm, voice muffled and sweet. Your hips rolled gently against his mouth, chasing the pleasure he so willingly gave. Tears of overwhelming feeling pricked at the corners of your eyes. âI love you⊠I love you so much.â
He pulled back just enough to speak, his lips glistening, breath warm against your slick skin. His dark eyes looked up at you with such raw adoration it made your heart ache.
âI love you too,â he whispered, voice thick with emotion. âMore than anything in this world, my sweet girl.â Then his mouth returned to you, even more devoted than before. He licked and sucked with tender intensity, pouring every ounce of his love into each movement. Two fingers gently joined his tongue, sliding inside you with careful reverence, curling softly as he worshipped you.
Your moans grew sweeter, higher, muffled against your lace-covered hand as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly. âTaehyung⊠oh, Taehyung,â you gasped, voice trembling with love and release. âYou feel so good⊠Iâm yours⊠only yoursâŠâ
He hummed against you in response, the vibration pushing you closer to the edge. His free hand stroked soothingly up your thigh, grounding you even as he unraveled you completely.
The pleasure crested slowly, beautifully, like the sun breaking through storm clouds. Your thighs began to tremble around his shoulders. Your fingers tightened desperately in his hair as the wave finally broke over you. âTaehyungâ!â you cried softly, the sound full of love and wonder. âI love you⊠I love youâŠâ
Your release washed through you in gentle, pulsing waves, sweet and pure and overwhelming. Small, breathy moans of his name spilled from your lips like prayers as you came, body arching against the rough tree trunk. Your hand stayed pressed to your mouth, muffling the sweetest sounds of your surrender, while your other hand held him close, keeping him there as pleasure sang through every inch of you.
Taehyung stayed with you through every tremor, licking you gently through your climax until you were soft and trembling in his arms. When the last wave finally ebbed, he pressed one final, reverent kiss to your core before rising slightly to rest his head against your thigh, looking up at you with pure, unwavering love.
Taehyung rose from his knees with careful respect, his hands gentle as they helped you readjust. He pulled the front of your white dress back up over your shoulders, covering your breasts with slow, almost worshipful movements, as if dressing you was another form of devotion. His fingers brushed your skin softly, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Then he reached for your discarded lace underwear, sliding them carefully up your legs and into place, smoothing the fabric of your dress down over your thighs with the same tender attention.
He leaned in and kissed you, soft, lingering, full of quiet love. âI love you,â he whispered against your lips. âYou need to remember that, alright? No matter what happens⊠remember it.â
You smiled up at him, eyes still dreamy and half-lidded, the blush of your release still painting your cheeks. âOf course I remember,â you murmured, brushing your gloved fingers along his jaw. âI love you too, Taehyung. More than anything.â
For a while longer you stayed wrapped in each otherâs arms, foreheads pressed together, breathing in the fading scent of cherries and shared sin. But the sun was setting fast now, painting the sky in fiery streaks of orange and rose, reminding you that your stolen time was coming to an end. âWhen will I see you again?â you asked softly, a note of longing threading through your voice.
Taehyung pressed one last kiss to your temple. âShould be soon,â he promised, though something shadowed flickered behind his eyes. âIâll find you, sweetheart. I always do.â You kissed him once more before reluctantly pulling away. As you slipped from the grove and made your way back toward the road, a blissful, secret smile played on your lips.
By the time you reached home, the sky had turned a deep indigo, and the scent of your motherâs Sunday roast chicken and fresh cornbread drifted through the open windows like a warm embrace. The house stood proud and white against the growing dusk, lamplight glowing softly from within.
Your mother greeted you at the door with a gentle smile, wiping her hands on her apron. âThere you are, darling. Right on time.â
Alma was already seated at the dinner table, her small hands folded in her lap. She watched you with those same wide, observant eyes from church earlier, she eerily quiet, knowing, but saying nothing. You offered her a soft smile, but kept silent, hanging your light shawl on the hook by the door.
âHow was Deliaâs?â your mother asked, setting another plate on the table.
âIt was great,â you replied easily, the lie slipping from your tongue like silk. âWe got a lot done for the Sunday feast next week.â
Your father soon joined you all, his heavy footsteps announcing his presence as he took his seat at the head of the table. The air in the dining room felt thicker than usual, weighted by the scent of roasted meat, candle wax, and the serious tone in his voice as he unfolded his napkin.
âThe war is in full swing now,â he announced gravely, passing the bowl of mashed potatoes. âMore boys shipping out every week. The devilâs work is never done, and neither is the fight for righteousness.â
Your stomach sank like a stone dropped into deep water. The thought of all those menâ young, hopeful, terrifiedâ dying in foreign fields, never returning home to their mothers, wives, or sweethearts, made your chest ache. You thought of Taehyungâs restless eyes earlier that day and felt a sharp twist of fear.
Your mother sighed, passing the cornbread. âThe Callumsâ son, Jett, is enlisting soon. Poor Catherine is beside herself. She came by the sewing circle yesterday with red eyes.â
Your father nodded solemnly, cutting into his chicken with precise movements. âItâs an honor. Jett is an honest, God-fearing young man. Heâs doing right by his country. Some boys around these parts could stand to learn from his example.â He paused, then muttered darkly under his breath, âLike that good-for-nothing Kim boy.â
Your ears perked up sharply at the name, your heart clenching. You kept your eyes on your plate, but your grip tightened around your fork until your knuckles turned white. Your father continued, voice laced with disdain, âMight actually be good if the likes of Kim Taehyung did something worth a damn for once. Maybe the army could make a man out of him.â
The words burned like acid in your throat. You wanted to speak, you wanted to tell him that Taehyung was looking for work, that he was trying, that the townâs cold shoulders and closed doors made it nearly impossible. That he was more worthy than any of them knew. But you remained silent, the obedient preacherâs daughter, biting down on your tongue until you tasted copper. Your fork trembled slightly in your hand.
Your mother bowed her head. âLet us pray.â
You closed your eyes along with them, but as the familiar words of gratitude washed over the table, your mind drifted far away, back beneath the cherry trees, to warm hands, whispered love, and the boy who held your heart in his calloused palms. The prayer felt distant, hollow. All you could think about was Taehyung, the setting sun, and the uncertain future stretching out before you both like a long, shadowed road.
After dinner, the house had settled into that deep, watchful silence that only old Southern homes possess at night. Moonlight filtered through the lace curtains of your bedroom in silvery threads, pale and cold, painting the walls in ghostly luminescence. The air still carried the faint scent of lavender soap from your bath, mixed with the distant perfume of night-blooming jasmine drifting through the cracked window.
You sat on the edge of your quilted bed in your modest white nightgown, legs tucked beneath you, slowly brushing your long hair. Each stroke of the brush was deliberate, almost meditative, the bristles whispering through damp strands still heavy with water. Your mind wandered back to the cherry grove: the taste of Taehyungâs lips, the warmth of his hands, the way he had worshipped you so tenderly beneath the falling petals. A secret, blissful smile curved your lips even as a quiet ache bloomed in your chest.
A soft knock sounded at your door, pulling you from your reverie. âCome in,â you called gently.
The door opened with a faint creak, and little Alma slipped inside like a small ghost. Her pale nightgown swallowed her slight frame, and her braided hair hung neatly over one shoulder. She closed the door carefully behind her and padded over to your bed, climbing up to sit beside you without invitation. For a moment, she simply studied you with those wide, far-too-observant eyes.
âHave you prayed tonight?â she asked, her voice soft as moth wings in the quiet room.
âNot yet,â you answered, setting the brush down in your lap and offering her a warm smile.
âMay I pray with you?â
The innocence in her request made something tender twist inside your chest. âOf course, Alma. Iâd like that.â
You both slid from the bed and knelt side by side on the cool wooden floor, the braided rug soft beneath your knees. The oil lamp on your nightstand flickered gently, casting dancing golden light and long shadows across the walls. You clasped your hands together, bowing your heads in unison. The familiar evening prayer rose between you in hushed, harmonious whispersâ thanking the Lord for safe passage through another day, asking for protection from sin and temptation, seeking forgiveness for hidden transgressions.
When it was your turn to speak your private prayers, your voice dropped to a trembling whisper, barely audible even to your sister beside you. "And please, Lord⊠watch over Taehyung. Help him find honest work. Guide his steps and let him see the worth within himself. Protect him from harm. Amen.â
Silence lingered after the prayers ended. The two of you remained kneeling, the weight of unspoken things growing heavier in the room like humidity before a storm. Finally, Alma lifted her head and turned to look at you fully. âI know about Taehyung.â
Your heart slammed against your ribs. You tried to keep your expression calm, smoothing the fabric of your nightgown over your thighs with suddenly unsteady hands. âWhat do you mean, Alma?â
She didnât waver. âI know youâre in love with him. Iâve seen the way you look at him during service. The secret smiles. The way you disappear after church on Sundays.â
The truth sat heavy on your tongue. You opened your mouth to deny it, to weave some careful lie, but looking into your little sisterâs earnest eyes, the words wouldnât come. Your shoulders slowly deflated as the confession slipped free in a shaky breath. âYes,â you whispered, voice thick with emotion. âI am in love with him, Alma. Deeply. More than Iâve ever loved anything.â
Almaâs small brow furrowed with genuine worry, her hands twisting together in her lap. âBut how can you be in love with a man whoâs going to war?â
The words struck you like ice water poured down your spine. You shook your head quickly, almost desperately. âHeâs not going to war. Youâre wrong, Alma. He told me himself today that he wasnât going to enlist.â
She shook her head, braids swaying gently. âI saw his name. After dinner, when Father went into his study⊠a messenger brought a new list. Names of the young men from our town who enlisted this week. The ones weâre meant to pray for in service.â Her voice grew quieter. âTaehyungâs name was at the very bottom.â
For a moment, the entire room seemed to tilt. The flickering lamplight blurred at the edges of your vision. Your pulse roared in your ears like distant thunder rolling across the cotton fields. âYouâre lying,â you whispered, though your voice cracked with uncertainty.
Alma only looked at you with quiet sorrow, saying nothing.
The truth hit you like a physical blow. You rose to your feet so suddenly that the rug bunched beneath your bare toes. Your nightgown trailed behind you like a mourning veil as you moved swiftly down the darkened hallway, heart pounding violently against your ribs. The wooden floor was cool beneath your feet, each step echoing your growing panic.
The door to your fatherâs study stood slightly ajar, warm lamplight spilling out into the hallway like spilled blood. You didnât knock. You pushed the door open with trembling hands.
Your father startled where he knelt in prayer beside his heavy oak desk, Bible open before him on the floor. His eyes widened in shock at your sudden appearance.
âDaughter? What is the meaning ofââ You didnât answer him. You moved straight to his desk like a woman possessed by some desperate spirit, hands shaking as you rifled frantically through the scattered papers, letters, and church documents. Envelopes fluttered to the floor like dying moths. Your fatherâs voice grew sharper, demanding an explanation, but the words barely registered through the roaring in your ears.
And then you found it.
A single crisp sheet of paper, freshly delivered, listing the names of Willow Creekâs young men who had recently enlisted. Your eyes scanned down the page with frantic desperation until they landed on the final name at the bottom.
Kim Taehyung.
The letters blurred. The paper trembled violently in your grip as the world seemed to fracture around you. The room spun slowly, your fatherâs alarmed voice fading into a distant, meaningless hum.
Taehyung had enlisted.
He had looked you in the eyes beneath those cherry trees, kissed your skin, told you he loved you⊠and still chosen to leave. The world fractured the moment your eyes landed on his name.
You dropped the paper as if it had burned your fingers. Your fatherâs voice rose behind you, sharp, demanding, laced with righteous fury, but it sounded like it came from underwater, distant and meaningless. Without a word, without a backward glance, you turned and fled.
âDaughter! Get back here this instant!â His heavy footsteps thundered after you down the hallway, but you were already gone, a white ghost in your thin nightgown, bare feet slapping against the cool wooden floors. You burst through the front door into the humid Southern night, the screen door slamming violently behind you like the final note of a funeral hymn.
The May night air wrapped around you like a damp shroud. Gravel and dirt bit into the soft soles of your bare feet as you ran, but the pain barely registered. Your nightgown billowed behind you like surrendered angel wings, pale fabric glowing faintly under the moonlight. Tears blurred your vision as you tore through the sleeping streets of Willow Creek, past darkened houses with their judgmental windows, past the church where cherry blossoms still drifted silently in the breeze behind the white steeple.
You ran until your lungs burned like hellfire and your heart felt ready to shatter. The orphanage loomed at the edge of town, an old, sagging building with peeling paint and creaking shutters, the only home Taehyung had ever truly known. Your fists pounded desperately against the weathered wooden door, the sound echoing into the quiet night like frantic prayers.
The door finally creaked open. Madame Lovell stood there in her faded robe, gray hair in a loose braid, her weathered face shifting from irritation to bewilderment at the sight of the preacherâs daughter standing barefoot and wild-eyed on her doorstep.
âWhere is he?â you gasped, chest heaving, voice cracking. âPlease⊠where is Taehyung?â
Understanding dawned in the old womanâs eyes, followed by deep, pitying sorrow. She sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as if the weight of a thousand lost boys pressed down on her. âOh, honeyâŠâ she said softly, her Southern drawl thick with sadness. âHe left already. Just before dinner. Came by to say goodbye. Packed what little he had and walked off with the recruiter.â
Your breath caught in a broken sob. Madame Lovell reached inside and pulled out a folded envelope, worn at the edges, your name written across it in Taehyungâs familiar, slanted handwriting.
âHe left this for you.â Your legs gave out beneath you. You crumpled to the dirt like a broken doll, nightgown pooling around you in the dust. The letter trembled violently in your hands as you tore it open, tears already streaming down your cheeks in hot rivers.
My dearest love,
By the time you read this, Iâll already be gone.
Iâm sorry. God, Iâm so sorry. I wanted to tell you today beneath our cherry trees, but I couldnât bear to watch your heart break in front of me. Iâm a coward in that way. You deserve better than the way I love youâ reckless and desperate and selfish.
I enlisted this afternoon. Namjoonâs letter got to me deeper than I let on. He said there was honor in it. Purpose. A way for a boy like me to finally become something more than the townâs favorite sinner. A way to maybe, one day, be worthy of standing beside the preacherâs daughter without shame.
But mostly⊠I did it because I love you too much to keep dragging you down with me. Youâre light. Youâre everything good and pure in this rotten world. And Iâm smoke and trouble and dead ends. I canât ask you to wait for a man who might come back in a box draped with a flag.
Still, I need you to know this, I have never loved anyone the way I love you. Not once. Not ever. Every stolen kiss under those cherry trees, every time you looked at me like I was worth saving⊠those moments are the only heaven Iâve ever known.
âll find you again somehow. In this life or the next. I swear it on every falling petal, on every prayer you whispered for me. But please, my sweet girl⊠donât wait for me. Live. Be happy. Marry someone who can give you the life you deserve. Someone your father would approve of. Someone who wonât ruin you.
Keep a piece of me in your heart if you can. And when the cherry trees bloom next spring, think of me. Iâll be thinking of you.
Forever yours, even when Iâm gone,
Taehyung.
The letter slipped from your numb fingers, fluttering to the dirt like a dying blossom. Sobs tore from your throat, raw, guttural, heartbroken sounds that echoed into the quiet night. You curled in on yourself in the dust, arms wrapped around your knees, nightgown soiled and torn at the hem. The moon watched silently overhead, cold and indifferent, as the girl who had once believed love could conquer everything shattered completely beneath its indifferent gaze.
Madame Lovell stood in the doorway, one hand pressed to her mouth, tears glistening in her own eyes. Somewhere in the distance, a lonely dog howled at the moon. The cherry trees behind the church continued to shed their leave into the wind, the beautiful, fragile things that bloomed so brightly only to fall and be forgotten by morning.
And you remained there in the dirt, a broken preacherâs daughter in white, clutching the last words of the only boy who had ever made your heart feel truly alive⊠knowing that some loves were never meant to survive the weight of the world.
The night swallowed your sobs whole, leaving only silence, dust, and the faint, fading scent of cherries on the breeze.
