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The sun is burning against your skin as you stare straight ahead at the scene unfolding before you.
You had no one to blame but yourself. After all, this situation? You’d definitely brought it on yourself — but for it to become the biggest comedy sketch of your life? That, you hadn’t seen coming.
Let’s go back to the basics of the situation so you can see things more clearly — and maybe understand the mess you’d gotten yourself into, and into which you had willingly decided to burn your fingers.
In your friend group, you were the only single one. They teased you like little kids, and while you played along, deep down it got under your skin more than you liked to admit. It wasn’t your fault if no one had really caught your attention or made you want to settle down. In fact, you actually liked your freedom quite a lot. No drama, no couple problems — just you, your apartment, and your quiet little life. Simple, efficient. That should have been enough for everyone, and yet… no. Your friends were the persistent type and never missed a single opportunity to remind you that being in a relationship was pure bliss.
— So, are you bringing someone for the holidays?
— Someone? There would need to be a “someone” first, right?
They’d laughed like a pair of turkeys, cackling at their brilliant joke, making your blood boil more than usual. And then, around a raspberry/lemon mojito, with a calm and even tone, you had replied with something you never thought you’d say in your life.
— I met someone.
Your two so-called friends had immediately gone silent and turned toward you at the same time, eyes wide like stunned goldfish. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you set your glass down, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper — that tone you knew all too well.
— His name is Jung Hoseok.
— And when were you going to tell us this?
You shrugged, now blowing bubbles in your drink as you tried to spin a lie that was quickly getting out of hand. You were part of the BTS fandom, an ARMY — but your friends were more into classic, Western pop. K-pop? Very little interest. So to them, “Jung Hoseok” just sounded like a random guy from your favorite country. Poor girls… if only they knew.
— I wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it for the holidays. He’s a busy guy, you know?
— What does he do?
— He’s in music.
— Ah.
A nod of the head. You started biting your straw — a classic lying tell — even though technically, you weren’t lying: he was in music. But you hadn’t really thought he’d show up. After all, who in their right mind would expect their favorite idol to answer a dumb message like: “I lied to my best friends and I don’t want to tell them — are you free from July 12th to 24th to come spend a beach holiday?” That’d be insane. There was almost zero chance.
You’d quickly regretted sending that message, written in English since you didn’t even know how to say hello in Korean. You screamed into your pillow in frustration. All that was left was to find a believable excuse to say your “boyfriend” couldn’t come.
At least, that’s what you thought.
Yet, two weeks later — without following up (you had other things to do, and surely he did too) — you got a message from him. Your heart was pounding as you looked at the Weverse notification, trembling fingers clicking it open. You almost fainted when you read it:
"Why not? Where are we going?"
Your eyes read it over and over again. You typed a reply, erased it, typed again. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, or if maybe you had messaged the wrong person — mistakes happen fast, and you really didn’t want some random guy showing up and calling you cute nicknames.
Still, just in case… you sent the details: the Canary Islands, a small hotel that fit your budget (and your friends’), with all the dates. You laughed at how absurd it was, rolled your eyes, and shut your laptop.
There was no way he’d actually come.
And yet.
Here you were, on D-day. Jung Hoseok — the Jung Hoseok — was here. Blue tropical shirt with purple palm trees, black shorts, expensive shoes that screamed “vacation chic,” and a smile that lit up the beach as soon as he saw you. He had really come. And you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or laugh hysterically.
But to avoid looking completely ridiculous in front of your friends, you moved first.
— Babe! You managed to make it!
— For you, always.
He wrapped his arms around your waist while your girlfriends, now reassured, greeted him in English. And something crept into your mind: Why is he playing along? You hadn’t told him you'd lied about the fake relationship — but maybe he had just guessed. He wasn’t stupid. He probably got hundreds of messages like yours every day.
You scrunched your nose, suddenly unsure if you really wanted to keep lying. What would he think of you?
— Shall we go?
— Of course!
He naturally grabbed your bag like a perfect gentleman. You took his hand and led him to the small hotel you’d booked. Modest, affordable — three lovely rooms. And without hesitation, Hoseok entered your room to drop off your bags.
You watched him.
Now that you were alone, your shoulders finally relaxed. You quietly began apologizing, biting your lip and fidgeting with your fingers.
— I know you’re busy… and this was stupid. You don’t have to keep pretending. I understand if you don’t want to go through with all of this.
— Your friends still don’t know you lied?
— No.
— Then let’s play along. Just say “stop” if I go too far, okay?
You nodded, eyes drifting to the big double bed. Hoseok laughed softly and waved his hands in the most adorable way to reassure you.
— I’m not planning to sleep with you. I’ll take the couch.
— What? No! You’re here because of me — I’ll take the couch, or even the floor if I have to!
Before he could answer, you threw yourself onto the couch — surprisingly comfy — and cleared your throat awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. You let the evening pass, then the first few days. And honestly? Hoseok was a gem, perched on a twelve-layer cake filled with soft, sweet cream.
A real angel: he paid for your drinks, gave you his jacket when you were cold, thought of every little thing you might forget.
Basically, he acted like the perfect boyfriend — and it tugged at your heart.
Because you weren’t actually dating him. And falling for him? That would be selfish. You almost forgot the massive gap between your worlds: he was a K-pop idol. You had a basic job and slightly toxic friends. There was no real future in this — this thing that would end in just a few days.
Your two vulture friends seemed to catch on, too. One day, while Hoseok was off buying ice cream for everyone, they cornered you.
— Hey, I did some digging on your boyfriend. Jung Hoseok? How did you do it?
— Do what?
— Get him to come! He’s an idol! Seriously?
— And also, you could’ve just told us you were still single. We wouldn’t have made fun of you.
You bit your lip, leaning back in your chair. Sorry — completely toxic. Why were you still hanging out with them? No clue. Maybe to avoid being alone in your lonely loneliness. But now you just felt stupid for putting up with them.
Before you could respond, a small cup of ice cream appeared in front of you — and when you looked up, eyes wet from stress, Hoseok did something you never thought he would: he kissed you.
Everyone froze, you first. But you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, pulling away only when he sat down beside you — under the glaring eyes of your (probably ex-) best friends.
But you didn’t care. You let the rest of the vacation pass like a dream — until, sadly, it had to end. You took him to the airport, and he looked at you over his sunglasses.
— We should do this again.
— Do what?
— Vacation. Together. Without those two girls.
— Ah! Yes, yes, if you want to.
You felt a little let down that he didn’t say “kissing,” but you didn’t want to push your luck. Clearing your throat, you said a timid goodbye and thanked him sincerely for coming.
But he pulled you close again, giving you one last kiss with a mischievous smile.
— That too. We should do that again. Let me know when your next holiday is — we’ll spend it together.
And as he boarded the plane, you knew he wasn’t lying.
YN screeched, “Five hundred dollars?!” She threw her hands up. “I don’t see platinum joints in the walls or gold bricks lining the floors!”
She knew she was being dramatic, but someone had to say it.
The realtor, a guy with sharp sun-kissed features and dressed in all-black urban streetwear, squinted at her like she’d never paid rent before. “And how much did you pay for your last place, little lady?”
“Four hundred. For a 900 square foot concrete box with more holes than I have fingers. Oh, and a 24/7 view of my big-bellied neighbour on life support who thought he was the pornstar of my dreams. Never forgot to flaunt those hairy curves.”
The sunny man visibly gagged, shaking his head. “Right. So, compared to that, this place is a steal. No pervy neighbors. One-bedroom, kitchen, attached bath. Plus, a basement you could use for work or...”
He gave her a once-over. Twice.
...garage. Not that you have a car."
Rude. Also not wrong. Still rude.
Unbothered, he leaned back against the doorway, arms crossed. “And for your kind of work? This area is a gold mine.”
She blinked. “Therapy?”
“Exactly.” His eyes gleamed in the sunlight filtering through the cracked window. “A guy got murdered here just last week. Cold blood.”
Red flag. Huge one. Waving right in her face. 4K
He leaned in, like this was the best sales pitch in the world. “Low-cost living, high trauma. Gym down the street full of men and women with emotional damage and zero coping skills. Gangsters, goons, unhealed childhoods. You’re surrounded by walking case studies. Play it smart, you’ll be cashing in.”
Y/N nodded slowly, while her mind spun faster than the cracked ceiling fan above.
Later, at a dingy café with even dingier coffee, Y/N pulled out a napkin and scribbled a list:
Pros:
Cheap rent
No hairy curve-flashing neighbors
Free crime stories for dinner talk
Work in basement = cool
Cons:
Possible ghost
Definite murder
Gym full of potential murderers
May die
She sipped the watery coffee. It tasted like regret. Or maybe beggars really can’t be choosers.
🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫
Twenty-four floors above the crumbling city, Jungkook lounged in his leather chair, one boot resting casually on the windowsill. In his tattooed hand, a glass of dark liquor swirled as neon lights flickered across his face, cutting shadows into the sharp angles of his jaw. The skyline blinked like it owed him money.
Things were going too well.
“They’re celebrating, Taehyung,” he muttered, watching the grainy feed on the screen. His enemy, Brad's crew, hooting around crates like they’d just unlocked military-grade loot in a video game. “Those dumbasses think they scored premium Russian stock.”
Taehyung scoffed. “Premium? Bro, I wouldn’t trust those guns to shoot a water balloon from two feet. They jam if you sneeze near ’em.”
“Exactly,” Jungkook grinned, cruel and gleaming. “Third-grade polymer, stuffed with recycled metal, painted like they’ve seen war. And the cherry on top? They paid for it with a loan… from a Shell company under my false name. 50% interest rate. But of course, they don’t know that yet.”
Taehyung raised a brow, smirking. “Using your money to buy your fake guns to wage war against you. That’s fucking Shakespearean.”
“Nah,” Jungkook said, sipping slow, “that’s just business with extra glitter.”
A waitress dressed skimpily slid by, carrying whiskey and dead dreams. No one looked at her. The room was full of better distractions: drugs, drinks, bodies, and sin. But for Jungkook, the real high came from watching stupid men dig their own graves with polished shovels.
He rewound the video. One of Brad's men held a rifle to the light, nodding like it was divine. Jungkook hit record. “Make sure we film the moment these toys jam on them. I want a full fucking highlight reel. Send it to them with a fruit basket later.”
Taehyung snorted. “Operation Dumbass Deluxe in full swing.”
“Oh yeah,” Jungkook said, voice low and smug. “And get this...before they took the guns, they signed a supply agreement. Buried clause, bottom line, unread. They basically sold me the rights to two coastal cities if they default.”
“You’re kidding.”
“They won’t read it until it’s already mine.”
Silence fell, heavy, the kind that comes just before gunshots or bad decisions.
Taehyung chuckled. “You’re a bastard.”
Jungkook smiled slow and shark-like. “But an efficient one.”
He turned back to the window. The city looked small from up here. Like something he could fold and put in his pocket.
“Double the security on the west blocks. When these idiots realize the guns don’t work, they’ll panic. Try to retaliate...fast and dirty.”
“Landmines or snipers?”
“Both. And a drone. I want a drone hovering over them playing circus music when they try to fire those guns.”
Taehyung was still laughing when he left the room.
Jungkook stayed behind, watching the skyline like a man admiring his own reflection. This city ran on blood and bad decisions, and he owned both.
The floor below thumped with bass and bodies. His men were getting high on power, flesh, and illusions. But he? He got high on control.
And somewhere, way across the city, a young therapist with a cracked phone, student debts, and a chip on her shoulder was signing a lease.
Did she know the building sat on the edge of a war zone?
Did she know her future clients included half the city’s most broken criminals?
Not yet. Would it change her mind if she knew her place was built on the hotspot of an active volcano dressed as a human?
Parties were never usually your thing. In the past, during your wild party days, you could spend all night dancing. However nowadays you’d much rather spend your weekends relaxing in and watching Netflix.
Tonight though was a special occasion. You had just gotten a new job and you were in a mood to celebrate. It just so happened that you best friend’s boyfriend, a famous DJ, was throwing a party at his house to celebrate the launch of his new song. You slipped on a black slip dress you had bought some months ago. You had seen the dress on a mannequin in a shop window and had instantly fallen in love with it.
You arrive to the party 20 minutes later and the party was in full force. The house was lit up like a disco ball and there were already a lot of people drinking and dancing. Some faces you didn’t recognise and others you had seen on TV and on billboards. You spot your friend by the bar and make your way over to her.
“You need a drink!” She yells over the music and hands you a shot of tequila before grabbing one for herself. “Let’s do shots!”.
You down the shot, feeling the alcohol burning your throat on its way down. A song you both know starts playing and your friend takes your hand and leads you to the backyard where a dance floor is set up. You squeeze your way past sweaty bodies and end up in the middle of the stage. You close your eyes and start to sway your hips to the beat, letting yourself get lost to the music.
The first thing you see is grey. Grey walls and grey curtains. You slowly rise to view your surroundings but the moment you raise your head you’re met with a sharp dull pain in your temples. You lay your head back on the pillow and groan. You couldn’t remember the last time you had woken up with a hangover.
You also couldn’t remember the last time you were this comfortable, hangover aside. Your muscles felt loose and you were a bit achy in some places but other than that you felt relatively good. The bed was big and soft and the silk sheets felt heavenly against your skin. Wait a minute…skin?!
You glance down and to your horror you find that you’re completely nude. You’re also not alone. Sleeping beside you is a man, but not just any normal man, you recognise his face straight away. Kim Taehyung. The world’s number one model. He was famous worldwide for his piercing gaze and sharp jaw. Girls lined up for days just to get a glimpse of him. You had seen his pictures in magazines and on billboards all over the city. He was the face of Gucci and held the current record for the most Vogue covers, earning him a spot in the Guinness World Records given his young age.
You’re completely confused and you have no idea what is going on. Why is the world’s top model lying beside you, and why are you both naked? What exactly happened last night?
Your try to remember but your memory is hazy. You remember drinking and dancing with someone and then more drinking. The rest is blank. You don’t even remember leaving the party and how you got here. Wherever here was. You must’ve drank way more than you should’ve.
You look around and spot your dress at the end of the bed as if it had been thrown haphazardly, right next to a man’s dress shirt and pants. You slowly slide out of bed making sure to be quiet so that you didn’t wake up your companion. You quickly slip on your dress and scan the room for your shoes and bag. You locate them both near the door and with one final glance at the gorgeous man sleeping peacefully, you turn to leave.
It isn’t until you get home that you realise you had left your card holder behind.
Chapter Two:
2.5 months later
It’s official, you were dying. Or at least that’s what it felt like. For the past two weeks you had been down with the flu and it didn’t look like it was going to go away. You suddenly had no energy and all you wanted to do was sleep. What was really strange though was that every now and again you would feel nauseated. You had dragged yourself into work that morning, refusing to take another day off. Your emails were already piling up after two days off and you were already dreading going through them.
As you made you way into the lunchroom with your colleague the smell of coffee overwhelms you and you were hit with a familiar queasy feeling. You place a hand over your mouth and suppressed the urge to vomit.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” your colleague asked you. Her face full of concern as she handed you a napkin.
“Yeah I’m fine, it’s just this damn flu that won’t go away. It’s so annoying. All I want to do is sleep.” You sigh and lay your head against your arms on the table. You pick at your strawberry yoghurt, the only thing that seemed to appease your stomach.
“Sounds like you might be pregnant. I had similar symptoms when I was carrying my second child.”
“What?! Pregnant? B-but that can’t be?” You exclaim shocked.
Can it? You think back to when you had last gotten your period. It was definitely late. Very late. You had originally just brushed it off and thought it was because of stress but could it actually be because you’re pregnant?
Three pregnancy tests later there was no doubt in your mind. You were carrying Kim Taehyung’s child. Suddenly dying didn’t seem like such a bad option.
--
Kim Taehyung was an ass!
You had gotten Taehyung’s number from your friend’s boyfriend and when you told him what had happened he had rudely hung up on you, accusing you of being fan.
When you finally got through to his manager they demanded a paternity test. Of course the results came back positive, identifying Taehyung as the father.
Through the entire process you hadn’t spoken a word to Taehyung, only his manager and lawyer. You could understand that he was upset but so were you! A child was the last thing you wanted especially at this age. You were still young! You had your whole life ahead of you. You had planned to travel the world but now you couldn’t do any of that. At least you were trying to be civil and mature, unlike mister diva there. It was a week after you had given his lawyer the paternity results when you get a call. You answer it thinking it was either his manager or lawyer again “Hello?”
“Let’s get married. Saturday, 2pm. My manager will send you the address. Dress appropriately.”
Before you could even get a word in they had hung up. It took you a moment to process who had just called and what he had said. Taehyung had finally contacted you and he wanted to get married.
What!?
--
“So, what’s it like being married to the world’s hottest man?”
You were on your phone to your friend as you lazed around in your room. The last two weeks had gone by in a haze. You had agreed to married Taehyung deciding that it was the best thing for your child. You had both agreed that you would remain married until the child was born and after that go your separate ways. It was more of a business agreement than a marriage. The last thing you wanted was for your unborn child to be labelled as a bastard so it was fine by you.
That Saturday you showed up to his lawyer’s office and met your future husband for the first time since the party. After signing an iron clad pre-nup you were both declared husband and wife. Not once during the entire process did Taehyung so much as glance your way nor did he speak to you. The only time you both made eye contact was when he placed the ring on your finger. A simple princess cut diamond ring. It wasn’t your usual style but you found that it was slowly growing on you.
The next day you packed your things and moved your things into his house. Taehyung of course was not home. He had conveniently flown out of the country for a few days for a photo shoot. You didn’t mind though because it gave you time to settle in and explore your new surroundings in peace. Taehyun’s house was the ultimate bachelor’s pad. He had two bedrooms, a study which was more like a second closet seeing as he had clothes everywhere, a theatre room with a huge built in projector screens, a gym and in the backyard, he had a pool inside a glass dome that kept it warm during winter time.
You were given the room across the hall from Taehyung’s and that first few days you had planned to explore the neighbourhood. However, that soon became impossible as somehow news of your wedding was released to the media. It was all over the news that Kim Taehyung, the world’s hottest bachelor was now off the market married in a secret ceremony. They had even a managed to find a photo of you and they even found out where you worked. You remember leaving for work and being met with a swarm of paparazzi waiting for you at the front. They shoved their cameras and their microphones in your face and threw questions at you from left, right and centre.
Everyone wanted to know who you were and how you had landed the world’s most wanted man.
--
“Boring.” You reply to your friend as you move to the kitchen to make yourself a sandwich. “I haven’t seen Taehyung much at all. He’s always working”. You two had agreed to be civil for the sake of the baby. However civil didn’t mean friendly to Taehyung it meant ignoring that you existed.
The last time you had seen Taehyung was last night when you bumped into him in the hallway. You had left your bedroom to get a drink and he had just gotten home and was on his way to his. You were focused on your phone and not on where you were going that you walked straight into him. The impact made you lose your balance and caused you to stumble backwards but Taehyung caught you with his arm and pulled you against his chest. Holding you upright.
“Woman, pay more attention to where you’re going. Especially in your state” He had scolded you as he released his arm and moved past you.
“Have you two had sex yet?” Your friend asked.
“Omg no! We’ve hardly had a chance to talk to each other let alone that.” You two had never spoken about what happened that night. You figured that you both must’ve been very drunk and one thing lead to another.
“How is the little bean?” your friend asks as you pull out two slices of bread and a jar of mayonnaise.
“Hungry, as always but other than that fine” You slather a good amount of mayonnaise on the bread and turn to the kitchen for some ham and pickles. “Shoot!” you say when you realise there are no pickles. You had been craving a ham, pickle and mayonnaise sandwich the entire day and was looking forward to eating one. You glance at the clock in the kitchen and note that it’s half past three in the afternoon. Taehyung said he had a meeting until three, so he should be done by now. You contemplate whether to call him or not. You didn’t want to be a burden but at the same time you really wanted pickles. Screw it you decide. Food is more important.
“Hey I have to go now there’s a sandwich emergency. I’ll message you later okay?” You say goodbye to your friend and immediately after call Taehyung’s number.
His phone rings four times before he picks up. “Yeah?”
“Oh hi Taehyung, it’s me.”
“Yeah I know it’s you I have caller ID.” Those articles that said Kim Taehyung was a gentleman lied. He was anything but.
“So um…are you still at work?”
“I just finished up, why?”
“Would it be possible for you to buy some pickles on your way home?” You cross your fingers.
He lets out a deep sigh as if you had just asked him to fetch the moon and not ham “Pickles? What do you want pickles for?”
“I need pickles for my sandwich. I’ve been craving it all day. Pleeeasssseeee?”
“Fine.” Another sigh and then he hung up.
Fifteen minutes later Taehyung walked through the front door and into the kitchen. He placed a jar of pickles on the island bench where you were sitting, watching Youtube videos on your laptop. Without even saying hi to you or acknowledging you he turned to leave.
“Hey!” You call out getting his attention. You close your laptop and stand up. “Look, I’m trying okay? The least you can do is not ignore me.”
You’ve been here for over two weeks now and you were finally sick of his attitude. Yes, the situation was unexpected and neither of you wanted this but that wasn’t your fault. You were sick of getting all of the blame.
“I’m trying to make the best out of this situation and you’re not helping. You think I wanted this?” You motion your hand at the kitchen.
“Isn’t it? Could’ve fooled me” he crossed his arms against his chest and raised an eyebrow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I think it’s awfully convenient that we sleep together once and you end up pregnant and now here you are the wife of Kim Taehyung”
“You think I wanted to fall pregnant? I don’t even remember that night. All I wanted was to have one night where I could have fun without any responsibilities. Believe it or not Kim Taehyung the whole world isn’t lining up to marry your ass. Get over yourself.” You pick up your laptop and start to walk away.
“What did you expect from this marriage?” His question stops you in your tracks.
“What do I expect?”
“Did you expect that I would fall madly in love with you just because you were pregnant with my child?”
“What, no I-”
“Did you expect that I would drop everything to cater to your every whim? That I would commit myself 100% to making this marriage work? Get real, this marriage is a sham. The only reason I married you was for the sake of the child.”
His words cut like a knife. You knew he was right but it still hurt to hear it said aloud.
“I know that.” You fight back the tears. Your refuse to show weakness in front of him. To show him how much his words hurt. “I didn’t expect anything. I knew this marriage was fake going into it. All I want is for us to not spend the next 7 months ignoring each other and actually try to get to know each other but I guess that’s too much to ask.” You storm off before he can see the tears escape.
You spend the rest of the night locked in your room crying and cursing Kim Taehyung.
The next morning when you go downstairs you find no sign of him anywhere. Later that day you receive a message from his manager informing you that Taehyung would be overseas for three days to film a commercial and that if you needed anything to charge his credit card.
It must’ve been around 5:42 p.m., and it was official: the 5:30 customer was definitely late.
For almost ten months now, a certain routine had settled into the little café by the Han River: a tall client, blond, with intensely beautiful eyes, and a dimpled smile that was dangerously sexy.
Kim Namjoon was simply perfect—at least according to the poor barista that was Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook, on the other hand, was plain.
Just a multimedia student about to launch his career in video games. Timid and quiet, he had never dared more than generic hellos and nervous little smiles while handing over the coffee he’d memorized by heart: a caramel macchiato, three extra sugars, and a pastry. Always a random one.
And even though Jungkook had often told himself that Namjoon ordered it just for him, he’d had to face reality: no, he asked that from anyone.
Which made him not that special after all.
"— Hello, Mr. Kim."
"— Hey Jungkook. The usual… and a hot chocolate too, please."
Jungkook frowned, his eyes leaving the man to figure out why on earth he wanted a second drink—before glaring at the man beside him: same height, chestnut hair, playful eyes, strong jawline.
He didn’t know him, but Jungkook already didn’t like him.
Still, he forced a half-hearted smile, gave a short nod, and typed the order into the register with much less joy than usual.
So that’s it. Six months of daydreams and illusions… for nothing?
He pouted, disappointed, then pointed them to an available table before retreating behind the counter.
He made their drinks with bitterness, then finally brought them over.
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, looking at him in mild surprise.
"— No cake today?"
"— You didn’t ask. Would you like one?"
"— Yes. Please."
"— Oh, me too!"
The stranger instantly regretted opening his mouth, as Jungkook’s cold stare seemed to pierce right through him. He bit his lower lip while Namjoon shot Jungkook a new kind of look: cold, clearly displeased, as he spoke again, just as curt.
"— We’ll take a strawberry shortcake and a chocolate opera. Thanks."
Jungkook felt stupid.
He turned away to go get the cakes.
He pouted bitterly as he went on serving other customers.
Maybe the problem was him.
He didn’t have to be so rude to Namjoon’s friend—true. And he had never really been forward anyway, despite all the unholy thoughts he’d had about the man.
But it couldn’t be helped:
He was in love.
And it hurt to admit it.
Now that Namjoon was showing his perfect love and kindness to someone else… Jungkook was just a fool in love with an untouchable man. One who probably hated him now—for being unable to keep his cool.
His jealousy always got the better of him. And now he had proof.
Namjoon’s friend came to pay.
Jungkook expected him to be just as bitter, but instead the man seemed unexpectedly kind.
"— How much is it?"
"— 15,000 won, please."
"— I’m not with Namjoon. I can tell something’s off… but he’s told me a lot about you."
Jungkook’s eyes widened as he looked up.
The stranger’s gaze was calm, honest.
As Jungkook handed him the change, the man smiled and turned to leave… but then stopped and glanced back.
"— Also… I already have a boyfriend. And honestly, I hope someday he’ll be more like you. Mine can’t even defend me properly."
The barista blushed.
He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks without even touching them.
And then the stranger—whose name he hadn’t even bothered to ask—disappeared through the café door, leaving Jungkook stunned and ashamed.
Of course he could’ve thought of that himself.
No need to spiral into some dramatic fantasy.
He could’ve just asked.
Yes.
But like we said, and if you’ve been following:
He’s shy.
Painfully shy.
So shy, in fact, that he’d started avoiding Namjoon altogether.
Where once he used to wait eagerly for his visits, now he would flee to the kitchen the moment he caught sight of him.
Namjoon must’ve been so confused.
But god, Jungkook was mortified.
He didn’t want to face his own stupidity—stupidity that haunted even his dreams.
But life didn’t go how anyone hoped.
Especially not Jungkook.
At the peak of the 2:30 p.m. rush, juggling table after table, he had to face the truth: he couldn’t ignore his problems forever.
"— Jungkook."
He froze.
His palms turned sweaty as his eyes landed on Kim Namjoon, seated on the terrace, waiting to be served.
He never came at this hour.
It would be a lie to say it didn’t completely throw him off.
A chill ran down his spine.
He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady.
"— Mr. Kim… You never come at this time."
"— I know. But whenever I came at my usual time, you weren’t there. When do you finish your shift?"
"— In two hours."
"— Perfect. A caramel macchiato and a mystery cake, please."
Jungkook could only nod, running a hand through his black hair.
He went to make the order, hands trembling.
He didn’t know what was happening, but Namjoon’s furrowed brows and intense gaze had completely rattled him.
Why did his mind always jump to the worst-case scenario?
Namjoon was probably about to tell him to stay away.
Stop looking at him.
Or worse.
Just the thought of it made him want to cry from sheer frustration.
He went through the rest of his shift with Namjoon’s cold gaze burning into his back, unable to focus.
Finally, closing time came. Jungkook dragged out changing clothes as much as possible.
He left through the back, hoping to slip away unseen.
Cowardly? Yes.
But he didn’t want to get his hopes up again.
Still, he jumped when he saw Namjoon waiting—leaning casually against his sleek black car.
Eyes on his watch.
Their eyes met, and finally, Jungkook exhaled.
Okay. Just a hard moment to get through.
"— Want to go for a drive?"
"— Mr. Kim, I’m really sorry… I shouldn’t have—"
"— Call me Namjoon, okay? And we’ll talk. Somewhere else."
He nodded again, nervous.
He got into the passenger seat, letting silence fill the space between them and the thudding of his heart.
Worst-case scenarios played out in his head.
Then… his body gave out.
A single, traitorous tear slid down his cheek. He wiped it quickly.
Namjoon noticed—but didn’t say a word until they reached their destination.
"— Jungkook… I’m not mad at you, okay?"
"— But I was awful to your friend…"
"— My brother."
Even worse.
He raked a hand through his hair, more embarrassed than ever for thinking they were together.
He wanted to become a tiny mouse and crawl into a hole—resurfacing only in 2,000 years, when Namjoon had forgotten he ever existed.
But Namjoon was gentle.
He rested a hand on Jungkook’s thigh, then motioned for him to step out of the car.
Jungkook obeyed like an automaton.
Namjoon gave him a small, warm smile.
"— I was just surprised. Imagine it: I bring my brother to meet the barista I’ve been talking about non-stop for three months… and he looks at me like that?"
"— Wait… You talked to your brother about me?"
"— Of course. Taehyung knows everything. He’s my only brother, why would I hide it from him?"
"— I… Your favorite barista?"
"— Yes."
He said it gently. Not at all like the furious dragon Jungkook had imagined.
Namjoon stepped closer, tenderly pressing his lips to Jungkook’s.
It tasted like sugar and heaven, and Jungkook couldn’t help but melt into the kiss.
Namjoon looked relieved.
He pulled Jungkook into his arms.
"— Be as jealous as you want, but tell me next time, okay? That way I won’t stress for nothing."
"— I’ll apologize to Taehyung too…"
"— Better apologize to Yoongi."
"— Yoongi?"
"— Taehyung’s boyfriend. Let’s just say… he’s not exactly pleasant. But he’ll understand."
Jungkook stared, wide-eyed.
Namjoon laughed, teasing, and pulled him even closer.
"— Don’t worry. We’ll explain everything. He’ll be sweet as a lamb."
The landlady’s voice could probably shatter glass and definitely Y/N’s patience.
Under her breath, Y/N muttered, “Why not donate that banshee voice to a startup, ma’am? Maybe they’ll turn it into clean energy or something. At least then you’d be useful after wasting oxygen all these years.”
“What did you just say, you ungrateful brat?” the woman shouted, her voice echoing off the cracked, peeling walls.
This so-called house that this old woman was howling about was falling apart. It wasn’t 'affordable vintage charm.' It was just five stages of grief. The only free luxury was sunlight leaking through a massive hole in the ceiling. If Y/N stretched far enough, she could probably high-five a pigeon.
“I said shouting isn’t good for your blood pressure,” she replied with a tight, polite smile that didn’t match the irritation bubbling inside. “I’ll pay you in the evening. But for that, I need to actually go to work.”
“Who the hell would come to you, dimwit? Other than those spiders nesting in your dusty little clinic!” the landlady snapped. “Even they need therapy after living with you!”
Y/N stared at her blankly. The audacity. And in orthopedic slippers no less.
🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫
Meanwhile, in a shadowy alley on the other side of the city...
The air didn’t just smell bad. It stank of rust, mold, and something that used to be alive.
A silver blade flashed, quick and cruel, slicing through a man’s trembling hand. His cry echoed down the alley, but it didn’t last long. The next stab landed in his stomach. Blood spilled fast. So did his insides, sliding out across the wet pavement.
A laugh followed. Low. Cold. Heartless.
Jungkook stood over the body, wiping the knife clean on the dying man’s shirt.
“I’ve eaten sushi smarter and more useful than this idiot,” he muttered.
He was dressed in black from head to toe. Tailored jacket, designer watch, boots that probably cost more than a building’s rent. The blood pooling at his feet didn’t bother him in the slightest.
“Clean this up,” he said to his men, snapping the knife shut. “And tell that rat in Sector Seven if he sends another spy, I’ll cut his balls off and hang them from my rearview mirror.”
His men moved without hesitation. One dragged the body away like it was an old mattress. Another wiped up the blood with quiet focus. No panic. No guilt. Just another night on the job.
Jungkook slid into the backseat of a blacked-out car and lit a cigarette. He inhaled like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his temper entirely.
“Third one this week,” he muttered to Taehyung, his trusted man, apart from Jimin. “Is it really that hard to get through a day without betrayal, whining, or someone trying to be clever?”
Taehyung, behind the wheel, gave a lazy shrug. “You’re scary. That tends to attract challengers.”
Jungkook blew out a stream of smoke. “Next idiot who crosses me is getting served his own tongue on a plate.”
The car rolled off into the night, swallowed by shadows. The alley fell silent again, at least until someone else made the mistake of thinking they could outlive a warning.
Summary: You haven’t seen Yoongi for months. He catches you backstage and shows you just how much he’s missed you.
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Smut
Prompt: Moxie and her need for Min Oppa smut
Author: Pilot
You nod at the security guard with a smile and he leads you through the crew doors. You find yourself a spot near the side of the stage, among some of the other light and camera crew. The stage is dark and all you can see are flashing lights from the ARMY bombs in the crowd.
It had been months since you had last seen Yoongi. Three to be exact. They had just landed back in Seoul today, ready for their last concert for this leg of the tour.
You’d have gotten to the concert much earlier if you could have helped it. Unfortunately you had been caught up at work and had only just been able to make it. The concert had started two hours ago.
Blue lighting strips illuminate the edges of the stage and green strobe lighting begins to flash. Then you hear it, the familiar sound of the opening of Cypher pt4. It plummets through the speakers. The screams from the crowd ignite, roars and shrieks from exhilarated fans echo throughout the venue.
Hoseok, Namjoon and Yoongi rise from below the stage. Your eyes immediately race to Yoongi. He’s relaxed, one of his hands are resting on his belt buckle of his ripped black jeans as the other holds his mic up nonchalantly. Yoongi strides to the centre of the stage as Namjoon and Hoseok walk their way around. Yoongi’s already sweating in his thin white shirt and long coat. He licks his lips and throws a hand up to the crowd. It riles the crowd and they scream.
“RM!” Yoongi yells out.
Namjoon begins to rap. Yoongi continues to work the crowd, building them up. He lets out an occasional grunt in unison with the base. He nods his head in time with the beat, one hand now resting on his hips.
Namjoon finishes up his rap and the boys begin to jump up and down, yelling out the chorus. You can’t take your eyes off Yoongi. His black hair is tousled and you can see the sweat beginning to collect at his brow. Finally, it’s his verse.
He pauses for a moment, building momentum. The boys watch as he does his thing, rapping freely and easily, spitting fire at a rate of noughts. He walks towards the camera, takes a breath, licks his bottom lip with his tongue and smirks. Somewhere along the way his shirt has gotten untucked. Hoseok is next.
Yoongi walks over to the side of the stage and bends down to pick up a water bottle. That’s when he sees you. Your breath catches in your throat and his eyes get heavy. He maintains eye contact with you as he picks up the water bottle, biting his lip. Your stomach starts to knot and all you want to do is reach out and touch him. He smirks at you and steps backwards.
He cracks open the water bottle while moving back to the centre of the stage. Yoongi takes a gulp of water and smiles to himself, pouring it over his head and onto the rest of the crowd near him in a swift and powerful motion. His hair is dripping wet and his shirt is see-through. He stands at the centre of the stage and adjusts his coat.
Yoongi’s stage presence intensifies, you can feel his desire and passion from the stage. He's going hard at it, thrusting, jumping, throwing his arms up. He looks out to the crowd, throwing sideways glances at you every now and then. You feel the sexual tension in the air amplify. You both stare at each other as the song comes to an end and the lights go out.
The crowd roars.
The stage lights up once again and all seven of them are standing on the stage now. Flames flicker on the screens and you already know what’s next. His voice commands the venue.
“Bultaoreune.”
***
At the end of the show, one of their assistants you had met before calls you over and invites you to wait for them in their dressing rooms.
You leave the crew pit and head to the back. You’re navigating your way through the corridors when suddenly someone grabs your hand and pulls you backwards into a dark room and shuts the door. You let out a slight cry in shock and you hear the lock turning. The lights turn on. It’s Yoongi.
His hand is still in yours and he’s dripping wet. You watch his chest rise up and down quickly. He’s breathing heavily.
You open your mouth to greet him but he advances on you, slamming his mouth over yours. You feel the air get knocked from your lungs as he roughly pushes you against the door. Yoongi’s hands have left yours, instead deciding to ravish and grasp at your body. Usually he would trail kisses along your cheek and your neck but he’s too impatient and hungry to do anything other than kiss you roughly on the lips.
His hands make their way to your legs, pushing your skirt up at your thighs and they settle on your ass. He kneads at your cheeks, a smirk plays at his lips and you quiver, your knees buckling. Yoongi grips you and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck in response.
You can tell he’s sexually frustrated by the way his mouth latches onto your skin, biting and nipping away. Your skin prickles and your breath hitches. His mouth wanders to your ear and bites at the lobe, pulling on it and making you squeak out slightly. He bites back a moan.
“Yoongi?” You say between breaths.
“Mmm?”
“We shouldn’t be doing this here we’ll get caught -”
He ignores you and shuts you up with another kiss. He moves back and places his finger against your lips.
“Shh. I don’t care.” He murmurs.
Before you can say anything else to dispute this his lips are back on yours, his tongue probing deeply. He desperately grinds himself against you and you can feel his belt buckle hitting against your core. He props you up against the door, leaving one of his hands free.
There were no more questions in your mind as his hand roamed over your body, his palm rubbing against your aroused bud and then moving to your breasts. He squeezes them and begins to unbutton your shirt. You didn’t want him to stop.
You had missed him, emotionally and physically. It wasn't until his hands were on your skin that you realised just how much your body had missed his.
Yoongi pulls back to breathe, only for a second. He stares at you, desire swimming in his eyes. You maintain eye contact as he continues to touch you and tease you. He bites his lower lip and smirks. He slides your underwear to the side as he pushes two fingers into you. He’s still wearing his rings.
You break eye contact with him and whimper and rasp, raking your nails through his hair. He lets out a curse as you moan.
You trail your arms across his shoulders and his back. One arm reaches down to stroke his length through his pants, feeling the weight of him, urging him to take you. He doesn’t, instead continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you.
“Yoongi,” you moan.
Yoongi had been waiting for months to hear you say his name like that. He attempts to hold onto whatever was left of his patience, continuing instead to move in and out of you with his fingers. He fights with himself - the need of being inside you versus the need to tease and taunt you.
Yoongi pulls his fingers from you. He cups your backside and walks with you, placing you down on the edge of the table in the room.
His hands go straight to your waist and you grab his hips, shoving his body closer to yours. Yoongi smirks again and sinks to his knees, tugging your skirt and pulling you to him by your legs. His hand moves from your waist and trails down to the apex of your thighs, where he slowly rubs circles against your clit through your panties.
He hikes your skirt up and places a kiss on your mound just to tease. He looks at you with downcast eyes and tugs at your panties suggestively. He raises your hips and slowly slides them off. Your legs dangle off the edge of the table and your hands run through his hair as you arch your back. He pauses, his lips just above you. You can feel his breath, hot and heavy.
He begins to dart his tongue over your clit, playing with your wetness between his fingers. He parts your lips and flicks his tongue over you, delving between your folds tenderly. One of his hands clutch at the side of the table. You moan and strengthen your grip around his wrist in response, nails digging into his skin. You’re feeling dizzy and lightheaded. A growl resounds in his throat. He brings you close to the point of ecstasy but moves away sharply.
He gives you one last kiss there, chuckles and slowly brings himself to a stand, pulling himself upwards, all the while keeping his hands on your body. You sit up, panting, trying to catch your breath he had taken from you.
Yoongi presses his forehead against yours as he stands between your legs.
“Did you know how much I missed you?” he purrs into your ear and your body feels with heat. His breathing is ragged, his body responding to the feel of yours pressed against his.
You kiss him again, his lips slightly salty from sweat. His lust is back and he greedily begins to pull off your clothes. He unbuttons the rest of your shirt and flings it across the room. Yoongi lifts one hand to your breast and squeezes it, hard.
He then reaches behind you and unclips your bra and slides it off you. He finishes undressing you, the material of your clothes pooling on the floor. Yoongi steps back and bites his lip, admiring your body and the flushed colour of your skin.
He eyes your plump breasts and kisses them both, taking one in his mouth. He swirls his tongue over your nipple and sucks gently, easing off with a light bite at your tip.
He runs his hands over your curves, grabbing and clutching at you with raw need. You shiver as you hear him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You pull at his damp white shirt in turn. He moves closer to you, dissolving any space between your bodies with a passionate kiss. Yoongi hisses with pleasure, the friction of your breasts against his chest fuelling him. He had been denied of you for too long.
He parts your legs and sinks into you swiftly. Pleasure shoots through your body and you tremble, tightening around him. A heated cry tears from his lips as he begins to move against you. The pleasure was intense and so arousing he could hardly stand it.
Your nails sink deep into his shoulders and you cry out. He thrusts into you, deep and possessive, his eyes watching you as you tilt your head back in ecstasy. He’s biting down on his lower lip, staring at you as he fucks you. He urges you to wrap your legs high around his waist and you do. He pulls back and out, only to bury himself to the hilt again in a swift thrust.
In an attempt to get back at him you go between kissing him gently and biting sharply at his skin, causing him to hiss and groan with pleasure. He sucks on your neck and kisses your breasts all the while moving in and out, pulling your hips down harder onto his. You cling onto him desperately, your orgasm building.
“Yoongi -”
“I know.” he says simply. His fingers find your clit again, moving against you in a quick motion, pushing you over the edge.
Your cries are stifled by his lips as he kisses them heatedly, his body shaking. He takes his hands from you and you quake against him, body tingling. You moan his name. This gets him. A growl resounds in his throat and he’s reached it. The pool of his desire finally releases.
His chest heaves up and down. He runs his nose up and down your neck, breathing you in. Yoongi tries to control his heart from pounding as he recovers from the intensity of the orgasm. A mischievous expression playing on his face.
It was finally the weekend and you were relaxing at home watching Netflix on the projector screen in the theatre room. Taehyung had installed an incredible sound system and had leather recliner chairs put in. The entire room was soundproof and blacked out so no sunlight could get in. It must’ve cost him a mint but it was definitely worth it in your opinion because it felt just as though you were at the movies.
You were currently engrossed in the latest episode of your drama, a romance about a man and a woman who were childhood sweethearts that were separated, only to meet again as adults 10 years later. They try to carry on and make their love work but fate keeps getting in the way. This week’s episode was an emotional roller-coaster in particular. The couple were facing another challenge and it looked as though this might be the end for them.
“No don’t give up! He loves you!” you cry at the screen. Your hand clutching the tissue box tightly.
You anticipate what might happen next when your phone starts ringing, ruining the moment. You consider letting it ring out until you see that it’s Taehyung calling.
Weird, he never calls.
“Hello?” you sniffle trying to compose yourself. “Taehyung?”
“I left my wallet at home.”
“Oh you did? That’s a shame” your attention is drawn back to the screen and you reply absentmindedly. As the lead female turns to leave the lead male grabs her arm and spins her around dramatically until she falls into his chest. He stares at her with longing and slowly leans in.
This is it! Finally! You think to yourself.
“Yeah…can you bring it to me?”
Their lips touch and the scene slows down as the background music starts playing.
“Yes!” you cheer, jumping up and down in your seat in excitement. You had been waiting for the two leads to kiss for weeks. However, your moment of joy is fleeting as you quickly remember that you’re still on the phone to Taehyung.
“Wait what did you say?” you ask.
Taehyung lets out a deep sigh before responding “I need my wallet, I left it on the kitchen counter.”
“Oh, yeah okay not a problem” you tell him “Where are you right now?”
“I’ll text you the address, don’t get lost.”
–
You didn’t get lost. In fact, 20 minutes later you found yourself standing outside of Taehyung’s agency. This was the first time you had been there since the two of you got married and you had always wondered what it was like. You were also curious to see Taehyung at work.
Looking around you note that the place was just like you had imagined. The building was incredibly spacious and it almost felt like you were walking into a hotel. The white walls were decorated with expensive looking art pieces as well as portraits of the models and actors in the company. The décor was clean and minimal, favouring white marble and silver hardware. The entire place screamed money.
You stop at a painting that catches your eye. It looked like the painter had taken a black canvas and drawn a bunch of lines in various different colours. The lines were all crossed with each other and the entire thing looked messy but for some reason you couldn’t look away. You don’t realize that you have zoned out until someone calls out your name, pulling you back to reality. You turn around surprised and see Jay approaching you.
“Hey what a surprise to see you here!” Jay exclaims smiling widely. The first time you had met Jay he was wearing a black suit but now he was dressed casually and you immediately note his unique outfit. He was wearing a blue striped dress shirt with bright green sweat pants and red sandals.
“Are you here to see Taehyung?” he asks.
You smile back politely and nod. You’re not completely sure how to act as the last time you had been around Jay you had cried like a baby in front of him. Just thinking about it made you cringe with embarrassment. The media still didn’t know that you were pregnant so he had kept your secret, for now.
“He forgot his wallet so I came to bring it to him” you hold up the wallet and show him.
“Wow you’re such a loving wife. Come on I’ll take you to him.” Jay replies indicating to the nearby elevators with a nod of his head.
You follow behind Jay and as you both wait for the elevator you take this chance to clear the air.
“So listen…about that other night. I’m sorry I cried, that’s not like me at all. I don’t usually cry in front of strangers.”
“Don’t be, it’s understandable given your situation. Hell, I was going to cry for you,” his light-hearted comment makes you chuckle and you can tell he’s trying to make you feel better.
“Thank you. And about what I said, you know about the pregnancy…”
“Don’t worry my lips are sealed. I won’t tell anyone your secret” he zips his lips and throws away the key.
You’re relieved at his words and you feel a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Taehyung hasn’t mentioned anything about making your pregnancy public and you didn’t know what you would do if word got out because of you. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would react.
Would he be angry at you?
Wait a minute you think to yourself. Why do I care if he gets angry? I’m the one that’s pregnant. It’s going to come out sooner or later so why do I need his permission?
“…and he can be such a diva” you catch the end of Jay’s sentence. Wait when did he start talking?
“Sorry, what was that?” you ask.
“V. He’s always so private with his belongings, I’m surprised he let you touch his wallet. Although I guess it makes sense since you’re his wife” Jay replies.
“V?” you repeat the name unsure but then you remember that Jay had called Taehyung that the other night as well. “Do you mean Taehyung?”
“Yep, in high school his nickname was V. I call him that every now and then”
The elevator door opens and you both walk in. Jay presses the button for the fifth floor and the doors close.
“You’ve known him since high school?” you enquire curiously.
“Since we were kids actually! We both moved here from the countryside” he boasts proudly. “I know all about V. Did you know that he used to be really ugly? It’s a miracle that he grew up to become a model”.
“What no way!? I don’t believe you!” you reply back shocked. There was no way Taehyung could’ve been an ugly kid. The man was a walking god. He wasn’t born, he was carved from gold and put down on earth ready to break women’s hearts.
“Believe it! Here I’ll show you a photo.” Jay pulls out his phone and shows you an old photo of two boys, probably around six or seven, sitting in a sand pit. You recognise one of the boys immediately as Jay because he had the same smile. Beside him sat someone you didn’t know. He was wearing overalls and holding a bright red bucket full of sand. His dark hair was messy, sticking up random places and his face was grubby. His mouth was opened wide to show two missing teeth.
“See that boy chubby boy?” he pointed to the boy in overalls and you nod in response. “That’s Taehyung.”
No way! You can’t believe your eyes. There was no way the chubby little boy in this photo could be Kim Taehyung. There was no sign of the world’s top model at all.
“This is a joke, right?” you ask as Jay shakes his head.
“What other photos of Taehyung do you have?” Taehyung didn’t have any childhood photos of himself around the house so you were curious now to see what he was like.
“Oh! Oh! I’ve got the greatest photo to show you!” Jay exclaims excitedly. He bounces up and down on his toes as he scrolls quickly through his phone trying to find the photo. He finally stops scrolling and whatever it is it must be hilarious because he starts to laugh uncontrollably.
“What, what is it?” you query, leaning closer to Jay. He shows you his phone and the moment you see the photo you burst out in laughter. You laugh so hard your side begins to ache.
The photo was of a teenage Taehyung, probably in his early teens around thirteen, posing for the camera. He was wearing black pants with a black leather t-shirt and around his neck was a thick gold chain with a large dollar sign pendent, similar to the ones you see in old rap music videos. To finish off the look he had a white bandana tied around his head. However, it wasn’t the outfit, though hideous as it was, that had you both in a laughing fit. It was the face Taehyung was pulling.
He had his bottom lip between his teeth and his face was tilted back, giving the camera his best seductive face. It was terrible. It was also the greatest thing you had ever seen.
Kim Taehyung was famous for his smouldering and seductive stare that made girls faint. It was dubbed the “drop-your-panties” stare by his fans. You had seen it on a billboard once when he was advertising a cologne and you had almost crashed your car. It was definitely worthy of the name.
However, the Taehyung in his photo was anything but sexy. He looked like an absolute dork. You felt as though you had just won the lottery. This was the perfect blackmail. There was no way in hell Taehyung would let this photo see the light of day. If you had this photo he would never cross you.
“You have to send me this!” you gasp for breath. Your brain was already going through ways in which you could use the photo to torture Taehyung.
“I’ll send it now, what’s your number?” Jay takes down your number and sends he photo true to his words.
You clutch your side and brace yourself against Jay’s arm trying to pull yourself together. You’re both still in hysterics when the elevator door opens and you see a familiar face.
“I was wondering what was taking you so long”
The moment your eyes take in Taehyung you stop laughing. You feel as though all the air had left your lungs. Standing before you wasn’t your husband but the most famous model in the world. Taehyung was dressed in a navy-blue uniform jacket with gold buttons and matching navy-blue pants. The jacket was buttoned all the way to his collar and you wondered if he was wearing anything underneath. His hair was styled in loose waves and his fringe covered most of his eyes.
You couldn’t help but gape at the vision in front of you. If this was a scene in your drama there would be a spotlight on Taehyung and angelic singing. You could practically hear the church choir in your head.
Taehyung’s gaze drops to your hand on Jay’s arm and you immediately pull your hand away and straighten yourself.
“I didn’t ask you to come here and flirt.” Taehyung scoffs noting how close you and Jay were standing.
Your feel the heat rise to your face at his remark. The nerve of this punk!
You can’t believe he just insinuated that you were flirting with Jay. Before you can shoot back a response Jay beats you to it.
“Aww V are you jealous?” he slings an arm around Taehyung’s shoulder’s and squeezes him in an affectionate way. “You know I only have eyes for you.” Jay lays his head on Taehyung’s shoulder and bats his eyelashes playfully.
Taehyung looks at Jay in mock disgust and shrugs him off. He places his hand on Jay’s face and pushes him away replying “Grow up Jay!”.
Jay clutches his cheek and pretends to be hurt. “How could you be so rough with me you evil man?”
You chuckle at their banter. You had never seen Taehyung be playful and so the scene was refreshing.
“Go away. Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” Taehyung scolds kicking Jay in the butt.
“Fine, fine I’ll go. Just know that I’ll never forgive you, you heartless man!” Jay cries dramatically before turning and giving you a mischievous wink. You smile back at his ridiculousness.
Seeing the exchange between you and Jay, Taehyung takes a hold of your hand and pulls you back into the elevator. “Whatever, we’re going now. Bye” he says before hitting the Ground button and closing the doors, not bothering to wait for a reply.
“Hey!” you begin to protest but stop when Taehyung silences you with his stare.
You were going to scold him for being rude but you decide to let the subject drop. Instead you stand in silence with Taehyung as the elevator descends. The soft melody from the speakers filling the space.
You sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye. His side profile is just as nice as his front you admire. His long earring catches your attention and you’re surprised when you see it because you hadn’t realised that he had his ears pierced. You start to count how many piercings he has.
As if feeling your eyes on him Taehyung glances your way. “What?” he asks catching you off guard.
“Huh? Oh, nothing” you reply back smiling sheepishly at having been caught staring.
You reach the ground floor and you notice that Taehyung is leading you towards the exit so you ask him where you were going.
“I’ve finished work” he replied matter-of-factly as though that explained why you were both walking towards the nearby convenience store.
As if reading your mind again Taehyung adds “I’m hungry, I want some ramen”.
You both enter the store and the old man at the counter welcomes you. You quickly send back a thank you and chase after Taehyung who had already disappeared down an aisle. You find him in the dry food aisle looking at ramen. He picks out 3 packets and turns to leave but stops suddenly and grabs another.
Is this guy seriously going to eat 4 packets of ramen?
You hand him his wallet and as you make your way to the counter to pay, a group of high school girls walk in and the moment they see Taehyung they start to fuss, clutching onto each other in excitement. You glance at Taehyung to see if he’s noticed his admirers but he appears to be clueless. He hands over the packets of ramen to the old man who begins to process them.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe that’s Kim Taehyung. He’s so hot!”
“He’s so tall! Oh my god I can’t breathe”
“Who is that girl with him? She’s so ugly”
“Yeah who does she think she is? That’s our Taehyung”
Even though they were whispering you could clearly hear what they were saying. You glance at Taehyung again to see if he could hear but his attention is still on the old man. Most likely not.
You try not to take notice of what they were saying because they didn’t know you and you could understand that Taehyung was their idol and they felt possessive of him, however it was hard not to take their words to heart. It was like you were back in the toilet listening to those ladies gossiping. You weren’t an idiot. You knew that marrying Taehyung would open the door for people to ridicule and talk about you and at the time you thought you could handle it and brush it off, but hearing people criticise you in person is a lot different from imagining it.
“Why would she wear that? It’s so ugly”
“Taehyung oppa should be with someone prettier”
Every one of their comments felt like a knife to you heart and you felt all of your insecurities rise to the surface. Don’t listen to them, they don’t know you. You bit the inside of your lip as you try to fight back the tears.
“He looked so much better with Anna”
There was that name again. Anna.
“Yeah they were perfect together. Anna is so much prettier”
I know she is.
“And taller”
I know she is.
“Anna deserves to be with our Taehyung. Not this cow”
Please stop!
You close your ears and pray for them to stop. You don’t know how much more you can take before your tears threaten to spill.
You suddenly feel someone take your hand and when you open your eyes you see that Taehyung has your hand in his, your fingers interlocked. You glance up at him and find that his attention hasn’t shifted. Earlier you had thought that he couldn’t hear the girls but it was clear now that he could. He had heard everything and this was his way of comforting you.
You feel that same little flutter in your stomach and you can no longer hear what the girls are saying.
Your hand looks small compared to his and you notice that his hand feels surprisingly rough. You can feel the spots where he had callouses from lifting weights. Most women would find rough hands a deterrent but you find yourself not minding it. You like the way your hand feels in his. You couldn’t remember the last time you held hands with a man and this felt nice. Safe.
Most of the time Taehyung acted cold and aloof and you assumed that he didn’t care about anything but maybe you were wrong?
Thanking the old man, Taehyung take the bag and turns to you, his expression is soft.
“Come on, let’s go home”
That’s all you need to hear before you nod.
He squeezes your hand as you walk past the group of teenagers who have summoned up the courage to talk to him.
“Taehyung, could we please get a photo with you? We’re really big fans” one of them asks, smiling sweetly.
She’s the one that called you ugly.
“No, sorry. I’m busy with my wife. Also, I don’t need fans who say unkind things” his replies coolly and brushes past them.
His response shuts them down completely and when you turn back to look at them their faces are a mask of shock and disbelief. You feel a little bit bad for them but the feeling is short lived.
One you hit the sidewalk Taehyung leads you back to the front of the agency where his car is parked. You continue to walk in a comfortable silence, your hand still intertwined with his. Perfectly content.
What is this feeling? Why is my heart beating so fast?
Summary: Jungkook isn’t giving you any attention and would rather play his online game with Tae.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Sweet and sexy
Author: Pilot
“I’m home!” You call from the front door.
“Oh!” He grunts in acknowledgement. You stand at the door, groceries in one hand, keys in the other, amazed at how little attention you are receiving from him. He mumbles “Wait a minute Taehyung” and the game is paused. He cocks his head and turns to look at you from the couch. “Hi baby.” He flashes a smile.
He gets up off the couch and lifts his arms above his head, stretching. He starts walking towards you. He’s wearing his grey sweatpants. The tie has come undone and they’re sitting loosely and a little lower around his hips than usual.
You can see the top of his underwear and your eyes instantly draw to his pelvic bone and the wisps of hair near his belly button. He slides his hand under his white t-shirt and scratches his chest.
That action enough is killing your resolve so you make your way to the kitchen counter. He moves behind you, wraps one of his arms around you and with the other, eases the bag from your grip and places it on the counter.
“What did you buy?” He asks, nuzzling the nape of your neck. “Did you get those chips I like?”
“Yep, they’re in the bag.” You respond, closing your eyes. “Did you get the ice-cream you like?” He asks, pressing his muscular body into yours. You move your hand to play with his hair.
“Tae’s still online.” Jungkook hints. He chuckles and lets go of you, instead moving to rummage through the bags on the counter. “Yes! Here it is!” He exclaims, pulling out the packet of chips. He opens them immediately and you glare at him. He’s such a tease and he knows it. He heads back to the couch and sits down, popping a chip into his mouth. He gives you one last cheeky smile, puts the headset on and resumes the game.
“Okay hyung, I’m going to win this time.”
Annoyed, you begin unpacking the rest of the groceries. Every now and then looking over to see Jungkook fully immersed in his game. He’s shifted his position, its gotten a little more intense. He’s leaning forward, legs spread, arms resting on his knees, play station control in his hands.
You walk to the bedroom and change into his black hoodie and pull on your pyjama shorts. You head back out to the kitchen and you can feel his eyes following you as you walk past.
You open up the tub of ice-cream, pull a spoon out of the drawer and make sure to make a lot of noise trying to slam those damn noise cancelling non-slammable ikea draws shut. You sit yourself on the couch next to him, cross legged.
He glances as you sit down but doesn’t budge or show any indication of stopping.
“Do you want some ice-cream?” You ask and offer him a spoonful.
“No, it’s ok I'm playing at the moment, maybe later.”
For some reason this got to you. Maybe it was because he looked so good in his sweatpants and shirt and you weren’t able to do what you wanted to him.
You took another scoop of ice-cream and put the spoon in your mouth. This is what annoyed you sometimes, how he’d be oozing with sex appeal one minute and completely cool as a cucumber the next. It wasn’t as if he was disinterested in sex or anything. It was just, for a majority of the time he was really refrained... It had been a while since you’d had any kind of intimacy together and you were really feeling it today.
“Fine play your stupid game.” You remarked.
“Hey...” he looks at you quickly but his eyes return back to the game. He doesn't finish the sentence, instead frantically pressing keys on the controller.
Obviously annoyed, you state “I don’t understand you, Jeon Jungkook. How are you seriously playing your game right now?” That’s right. You said his full name.
He quickly put his hand over the mic. “No, come on he’ll hear us, the microphone is on. ” He frowns.
“Pft, as if I care! You’re always playing with Tae, you rarely spend time with me or play with me!” You said, shoving the spoon back into the tub of ice-cream and getting up off the couch. His hand shoots out between your thighs and he grasped your leg. “Come, stay here.” He pulls you toward him.
You stopped in your tracks, the coolness of the ice-cream tub getting almost unbearable. Goosebumps trailed across your body. Just as you think he’s going to move his hand a little higher, he lets go and lets out a yell, throwing his arms into the air and smiling that stupid goofy smile when he gets excited. “Haaaa take that Tae, you have to call me hyung all week next week!”
You roll your eyes and kick his legs with your knees as you try to get past him and the coffee table.
He looks up at you trying to get past him. You try to step over his legs but he just moves them and traps your legs between his to prevent you from going anywhere. He’s looking at you with a cheeky smile on his face, laughing at you.
Suddenly he trips you up and makes you fall into his lap. You’re somehow still holding onto the ice-cream. Jungkook laughs, scoops a bit of ice-cream from the tub with his finger and places it in his mouth. “Mm. I love vanilla.”
You’re bewitched for a moment but then snap out of it. “Come on, let me go.” He obliges, releasing his grip and lets go of you. You get up.
“Give me the ice-cream” he says.
“Fine.”
You give it to him and watch as he puts it on the coffee table. “You’re so cute when you’re angry.”
“Whatever, Oppa!”
He shoots you a look. He then sighs, rubs his thighs and suddenly stands up. He stares into your eyes for a few seconds. His gaze has changed. For a second you forget to breathe and he quickly picks you up with one arm, throwing you back into the couch. You land on your back, with one of his arms beneath you, holding your body, and the rest of his body firmly on top of you.
He growls into your ear. “Is this what you meant when you said I never play with you?” Jungkook moves back and looks at you.
“I think it’s still my turn to play...” He breathes.
His hips are pressed into yours. Your heart is racing. He smiles. He’s about to do something but you’re not sure what. Kiss you? Bite you? He has that look in his eyes.
In one swift move, he uses his knee to push apart your legs and he pushes his hips further into you. Your hand instinctively goes to his thigh and you inhale sharply.
He moves in close, nibbles at your ear lightly and moves down to your neck. He trails his nose up and down to tease. Jungkook places a light kiss between your neck and collar bone. He presses his lips on your flesh again, a little harder this time. He moves your arms around him and you take the hint, holding onto his body.
"Wrap your legs around me.” He whispers into your skin. You oblige.
He pushes your bodies off the couch and moves one hand to your ass while the other rests firmly on your back. He walks you to the bedroom and lays you down on the bed.
He moves back and you let go. He straddles you with his thighs. As he begins to lift up the hoodie you’re wearing, he swirls his fingers over your skin in little circles, higher and higher. You lift your arms up and he finally pulls the hoodie off, throwing it on the floor.
He delves back to your skin, kissing you on your neck again, trailing his lips up across your jaw, across your cheeks and finally to your lips. He teases for a second and indulges in a deep kiss.
Your hands reach for the hem of his shirt and he intercepts, stopping them from taking anything off. Jungkook smirks and gazes at you as he trails down your body, kissing you as he moves. He gets to your pyjama shorts.
“Weren’t these the ones I bought you for your birthday?” He asks out of the blue.
“Huh... Yeah?” you murmur. He smirks again, placing a single finger beneath the band of the pyjama bottoms. He lifts the elastic away from your body and lets it go. It smacks your skin sharply.
He gives you a kiss on your pelvic bone, first the left, then the right side. Jungkook slides your pyjama bottoms off and you close your eyes for a moment. He sits himself up on his knees, still firmly on top of you. He crosses his arms over his body, and pulls his shirt off. It lands on the floor in a heap.
You frown. There seems to be a noise coming from outside. Someone is knocking on the front door. Jungkook cocks his head. You start to move to get up.
“Where are you going?” He asks you, pinning your arms back down.
“I should probably get the door -”
“Sh, stay here. I don’t want you to go anywhere. I’m not finished playing with you.”
