jealous oc visits yoongi at his studio and tries not to crumble into pieces
from the intimate series.
m.list.
it’s hard to mask the emotion that slowly creeps into your veins and leaves you in its control.
you crunch the numbers on the lock before it clicks open, and a fresh beat with a nice tune greets you the moment you push the door open. yoongi swivels round, smiles briefly at you before turning back to the person in the booth, her voice blanketing the studio.
as soon as she gets through the take, yoongi gives some pointers and calls for a short break. she continues to practice in the booth while yoongi shuffles over to you.
“hi baby,” he leans in for a kiss, “you okay?”
“yeah,” you shrug, slipping your hand into his. “i missed you. thought i’d come visit.”
he smiles, “missed you too. i’ll be a while.”
you nod, gesturing for him to get back.
showing up unannounced, you know better than to interrupt his session. not that yoongi minds, it’s why he gave you the code to his studio, but you were never one to nose around your boyfriend’s work.
but when you found out that yoongi was working with her today, any sense of self-control flew out the window.
her gorgeous long ash blonde hair rests on one side of her shoulder, and even barefaced, she’s captivating. minjee waves at you from behind the glass booth before turning back to the lyrics in front of her.
she’d only recently debuted and has already topped the charts. of course, her company had engaged yoongi to produce her album, and now, to work on another single. you’ve seen her on tv, once or twice including yoongi in her speech when she wins for the week. she’s charming, smart, talented. the full package. the up and rising it girl.
normally, you don’t think much about the artistes he works with. it’s not unusual for him to collab with attractive idols. it’s just work. but when jimin mentioned in passing that minjee was in yoongi’s studio again, a strange, achey, nauseating feeling rose in your chest.
so much so that you clocked out of work early, went home to change into something nice, before rushing down.
it takes a while before they were done. you occupied yourself on your phone, but your ears pick up on every little conversation they have, eyes rolling every time they have a laugh over something. jealousy is a disease. you remind yourself. but you’re not jealous or anything.
minjee steps out of the booth and heads straight to you, all sparkly eyed. “hi. you must be y/n. heard a lot about you.”
“you have?”
“of course!” she beams, “yoongi’s always-”
just as she’s about to explain, yoongi calls her over. damn it, yoongi always what?
you also slightly dislike to hear her say yoongi. but it is his name…
they talk for a minute, going through the parts they’ve covered and what to work on next. you only slightly get some of the terms they use. a while later, as if on cue, someone presses the bell on the other side of the door, and a shadow of a staff she recognises hovers outside. “alright mr. producer, i’m done for today right? i have to go anyways.”
your smile trembles at the nickname. which is stupid. because it’s not even a nickname. but it sounds sweet and cute when she says it, so now you feel that weird, ache in your chest again.
rushing to grab her stuff, she swings one arm around you hastily then heads for the door. halfway through it, she calls back. “it’s nice to finally meet you! i wish i could stay and chat, but i have a shoot to go to.”
“oh yeah of course-”
“i’ll see you around okay? bye!”
and she’s gone. it’s silent now. just you, yoongi, and remnants of your jealousy in the air.
yoongi continues to work on something, and you walk over to the control booth, mindlessly looking around the buttons. “just give me a second babe, i’m almost done.”
“sure.” you hum, eyes falling to the lyrics sheet minjee left on the booth, noticing her neat handwriting in pink. she writes in cursive. but you can highlight sentences in a straight line, that’s good enough right?
“she seems nice.”
you’re testing the water, studying his face. if he so much as smiles, you’ll fall to your knees.
“yeah. works hard.” he nods, “wrote most of the lyrics herself.”
now he’s complimenting her. you feel sick.
“how long have you been working on this again?” you manage your tone, trying to sound curious instead of crazy.
“about two weeks now.” he mutters, then sighs at something he notices. he makes a note of it.
“and is it always just the two of you here?” you lean against the control booth.
“yeah mostly.”
you nod though he’s not looking.
suddenly more interested in arranging your schedule so you can drop by more often, you don’t even realise yoongi leaving his chair, not until he’s already wrapping around you.
he’s warm. smells like home. you melt into his arms like you always do, letting your head rest against his chest. everything goes quiet in your mind for the first time all day. “you know i love you right?” his deep voice reverberates through your entire being.
“i know.” you say softly, muffled by his own sleeve.
he pulls away, tucking your hair behind your ears. “so you know there’s no reason to be jealous.”
staring up at him, a sudden surge of emotions build up in your chest. there’s no judgement, no teasing, for now at least. yoongi reads you like a book, and you were a fool to think you could hide it from him. he’s always been aware, and from the moment he spoke to you, he sensed something was off.
“she’s pretty.” you whisper like someone else would hear you.
his palms come up to your cheeks. “and you’re beautiful.”
you bury your face in his chest, letting him hold you a little longer. his steady heartbeat calms you down.
“hey,” he coaxes you out, “listen, i’m not interested in her, or anyone else. i would never do anything to ruin what we have. i’d be crazy to do that, do you know how much you mean to me?”
you know the answer, but it feels good to hear it anyway. you look at him from under your eyelashes. “how much?”
“too much. you’re everything to me.” he chuckles when you break a tiny smile. “okay?”
“okay mr. producer-boyfriend.”
you hide in his sleeve once more, wanting to cling to him for the rest of the day. “how did you know she was in anyways?”
“jimin.” you admit, though it’s not like he alluded anything was going on.
“of course.” he mutters. his hand runs across your back soothingly.
you sigh, releasing the last bits of green from your body. “i’m sorry.”
“silly girl.” he lifts your gaze with a finger under your chin. “i love you. and only you. got that?”
you nod, getting on your tippy toes for a quick peck. “i love you too.”
he goes in for more, slow and passionate like he doesn’t want you to forget his words. hands roam down the curve of your back, grip tightening. the soft pad of his thumb grazes over your lips. “now, it’s time for your private session. just you and me.”
Hi. I have Zelda fanfic for reading. It's been mostly finished for like, a year? I had a lot of fun with it and I learned a lot about WWII warfare. Thanks to the hubby for pretending his expertise in pre-industrial arms and armor also includes early 20th century tanks.
Summary: Zelda is a mechanic and Link is a tank operator in Hyrule's WWII equivalent. And our two heros get trapped together behind enemy lines.
Warnings: This is a WWII fic. It has crude language, descriptions of frontline warfare and it's aftermath, slight gore and major character injury. And gallows humor, cause they're soldiers in war and they gotta live through it somehow.
Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3
Part 1
Zelda
"I want to do something real!"
Zelda was screaming at her father over the phone. She was breaking every one of her rules. No using royal privilege; how else was she going to get access to a phone? No subverting the chain of command; well, she had gone directly to the King. That might have skipped a few rungs on the ladder. Act like any other enlisted man; and screaming at the King is unlikely to be the standard operating procedure. Zero for three.
"I've been trained to fix anything! I was best in my class! Jeeps for the brass are not a priority. I should be with the troops and I should be serving my country in the best way that I can. Isn't that why I'm here?"
All the wind had blown out of Zelda's sails by the end of her argument. She was getting nowhere with the King. He wasn't going to lift his order to keep her safe and he certainly wasn't going to send her to the frontlines himself. She'd trained to fix the heavy infantry tanks that were stationed all over the eastern front. She was the best. No one was faster or understood more intuitively what needed to be done. But, instead, she was fixing jeeps that the Generals treated like pleasure vehicles. They'd come in with no gas and tell her it was broken or they'd need their goddamn wipers replaced. It was insulting.
"Nevermind, father. I'm going to get back to work."
She hung up and went back to her command. Which was a small motor pool with a squad of mechanics. Technically she was due a larger command, but no mechanic this far from the fighting should have her rank. The boys didn't really need her there at all, truth be told. General Impa was a micromanager and their shop ran like a civilian auto repair anyway.
Link
Link huddled into his small corner of home in the trench. He'd cleaned it up nice so there was a small divot dug into the wall so rain wouldn't ruin his small collection of keepsakes. Right now he had a little journal to write in, some playing cards, and a letter from some school kid who informed him "Mr. Owlen says I have to tell you that you're brave" which was charming enough to keep. He'd smoothed the ground beneath his feet so that he had comfortable dirt to sleep on and his trusty rifle settled over his shoulder digging into yet another dug-in divot in the wall. All-in-all he'd dressed it up to be the nicest spot in the line.
His squad had been stationed here for two weeks so far with very little else to do. At some point they would probably jump up and storm the enemy, but he tried not to think about that. He was too young to die. He tried to keep some dirt on his face at any moment. He wasn't technically old enough to enlist and anything that kept people from really looking at his face was a plus. It was easier before. He was the loader on a medium tank with only four other men for company. But then the gunner got his points and was sent home leaving the rest of them a man down. He'd gotten orders an hour ago to report to the depot to be assigned to a new crew in the morning. Until then, he'd be hunkered down here in this cesspit trying to get some shuteye and stock up on "supplies" that weren't part of the standard kit. Dirty pictures, booze, and hopefully some real food.
Zelda
"Lieutenant! Call for you, ma'am!"
"Thank you, Private."
Zelda took up the office phone and snapped out a greeting. She was losing another man. Pretty soon she was going to be running this place alone. Apparently heavy fire was anticipated and they needed another mechanic on hand familiar with the newest combat vehicles. She took up her roster to see who had the best qualifications for the job. If they were calling up someone from here it would be a rough job. She ran her finger down the list and stopped at a name. Could she do that? There was an obvious implicit order, but it wasn't actually said. She had free reign to send whoever she chose. Who could stop her decision? They were leaving soon.
She scribbled out the order, updated the roster list, filled out the daily report, and marked the next in command. She would leave immediately. Her duffle was already supplied for departure and she grabbed a go-kit with essential tools. The truck was already nearly loaded up with supplies and her driver was climbing in.
"Ready?" She called to the back when she was settled.
"Ready!" the loaders confirmed.
"Move out!"
The driver pulled out of the compound and they were on their way to the front. He glanced at her, but clearly eyed her epaulettes before deciding to keep his mouth shut.
Link
Link settled into his position in the turret. They were buttoned up and already getting ready for a fight.
"Load up, gimme seven five!" The new commander Burlon called from his spot above him in the radio seat. Link slithered down to the floor and started pulling up the armored cover and pulled out the smooth munitions. Burlon was calling out directions to Dalt to position the gun. The ammo was loaded and the gun was ready in seconds.
"Up!"
Burlon called out the fire and Link pulled up the next load. He was fast and being small made it easier for him to get into all the little hideaways where any spare air was filled with ammo. The place stank up quickly with the sweat of five men in tight quarters. It was hot as ever and beads of sweat ran freely down his back. Only his hands were kept dry with any spec of spare cloth to be found. He couldn't afford to drop something. One store empty, Link closed it up and moved to the next in an awkward spot beneath his gunner's butt.
"Move your ass, Dalt. I can't get in."
Not quite a well oiled machine just yet, this new crew.
"Fuck you. I gotta aim."
"Quiet. All of you," The commander was looking through his scope, "HEAT! Take us back!"
Burlon's frantic calls on the radio blurred into the background. Anti-tank guns. Link scrambled to lock away all the mortars. Easiest way to kill a crew was to blow them up with their own gun. The tank rocked roughly in the retreat and Link banged his jaw against the bottom of his seat. He let out a slew of curses and braced against the top cage.
"Back in your seat, soldier!" Burlon ordered.
Still cursing, Link threw himself into his seat and threw a hand up to check his face. It came away bloody.
"Incoming!" As one, the team bent and braced for impact.
Zelda
"Okay team, the enemy is retreating. We need to get out and salvage what we can. Level one and two damaged vehicles will be handled by the first division. Level three damage is us. We'll work from near to far."
Zelda nodded to her partner and began running to her assigned vehicle. A Farore Mk IV about a mile away that's likely still in good enough condition to at least drive. The field was a mess of tracks and mud and empty casings. Burn marks scorched across huge stretches of land where shells exploded. Zelda tried not to see the remains left behind. The wounded and dead were attended already, but sometimes things were left behind. A half burned boot was stuck in the mud and Zelda pretended it's because the soldier decided to take off his shoe. She knew these soldiers were fighting for their homes and their families, but it felt like they were fighting for her as the Princess. She would face the cost when she wasn't working. When she had time to process.
She stopped with her partner, a big Private who could do some of the heavy lifting, when they reached a potential salvage.
"What do you think, ma'am?" He circled and shook his head.
"I don't think so, let's keep going. We can't drive with the track looking like this." It was mangled. "Avoid that next one, it's still smoking."
"It should be alright, let's look real quick. See? The smoke is coming from the front. Probably just overheated." Zelda wavered and the Private took his chance.
"It'll take less than a minute to check and then we can move on."
Zelda sighed and gave a nod. He was older and more experienced for all the rank difference. They crept to the tank and began an exterior inspection. Smoke was lightly billowing from the front so Zelda moved around to the back to ensure that whatever was smoking wasn't coming out another side.
Everything looked fine in the back except another pair of boots under the chasis. This time, the boots still had feet in them.
"Hey! Wounded!"
Zelda pulled on the boots and a soldier slid free with a squelch. She yanked his shirt out of the way and thrust her hand to his throat for a pulse. It was strong and steady. The Private was working the portable radio frantically.
"Lieutenant! Incoming troops! We have to find shelter!"
"What?!"
"I'm going in!"
"What?! NO! It might not be-"
An explosion cut her off. The opened hatch let in a rush of oxygen and ignited the dying fire within the tank body. Zelda threw herself over the unconscious man. She held on for dear life and clamped her eyes shut. Her ears rang and her head blurred, the heavy armored vehicle rocked ominously in her direction. The enemy was coming. She never learned her partner’s name. The man below her would die if she didn't recover quickly enough. What next? She could hear them coming. A dull rumble turning to a roar. Men shouting.
She shoved the wounded man back under the chassis where she had found him and squirmed into the mud beside him. She prayed to all the goddesses that they would take the smoking remains of this tank as reason to pass it by. Prayed that it wouldn't continue to explode above her. Prayed the man next to her didn't die while she laid in a grave next to him. Just in case, she kept her hand on his throat to feel his pulse throb in a steady, comforting rhythm.
Link
His head ached. A terrible ringing grayed out his vision. His body was hot and cold and hot and cold. His throat was full of smoke and death and weight. And damp. A wet, hot, muddy hand was pressed against his throat. He breathed in quickly then was cut off from shouting when the dirty hand shot up to his mouth.
"Shh!" He couldn't see the shusher, "They'll hear you."
It was a woman's voice. Link tried to take stock of the situation, but there wasn't much to go on. He was lying in a drying puddle of mud under what was likely his tank with a woman. If it weren't for the mud it might have been on purpose. And if his head didn't feel like it had been split open by a hatchet.
"What happened?" His words were slurred.
She didn't answer immediately. "We were overtaken."
Enemy territory. Okay. There was a process for this. Hide. Get somewhere safe. Take stock. Gather supplies. Make your way back. Don't get caught.
"Did you work on this hunk of garbage, Sargent?"
"Yes, ma'am. Loader in the hole."
"Okay. Then here's what we're going to do. The M4A2 at two o'clock looks in alright condition from here. We'll take shelter inside until we can come up with a better plan or until we can get it running and make a break for it."
"That's a Zora tank. I've never-"
"Me, either. Can you walk? You hit your head, I think."
"I think so. It's not far."
He really wasn't sure. The woman, a Lieutenant, seemed to have a plan which is a sight better than he had so he would just have to make it. The mud squelched and slurped noisily with every extracted limb. A cool breeze nearly froze him to the bone after so long in the damp. The Lieutenant steadied him with one hand and kept a grip on a metal box with the other. He thanked the Goddesses when he realized it was a mechanic's toolbox. She carefully picked her way through the supplies they had strapped to the back of the vehicle and grabbed the med kit and a small bag of foodstuffs. Link grabbed his personal pack and slung it over his shoulder with his rifle.
They set out across the field with furtive glances in the direction their camp used to be back when it wasn't completely deserted. The ground was rough and packed hard from the heavy machinery driving over the ground. A faint smell of dead hung suffocating in the air and kept Link light-headed the entire journey. He hung his head to the ground and followed the woman blindly into danger. They stuck together from one safe cover to the next. She stepped carefully around any unknown piece of metal on the ground and avoided bloodstained dirt like it was contagious. She was basically unarmed and unfamiliar with a battlefield and squeamish on top of it all.
"You green?" he asked.
"No" was the clipped reply. He reached out to her anyway and pulled her up short.
"Listen, Lieutenant Bospho-" He squinted at her name patch. "Bosphor--... Lt. Bosso. Listen Bosso, I've been active for a while and I'm the one with a rifle. I'll take point."
She looked very upset. Either she wanted to lead the way because of her greater rank or she disagreed with his butchering of her name. It's not his fault her name didn't fit with standard sized lettering. He let his grip on her sleeve tighten and pulled her behind him before striding forward carefully and tugging gently at her sleeve in a silent command to follow. She didn't think of an objection before they were moving, but Link heard her mouth click shut. It hardly mattered, superior officer or not she was a mechanic and likely didn't carry anything more than a pistol if she had any weapon at all. He was trained and was at least used to the leftovers in a field. His hands were already bloodied.
Their pace picked up with him in the lead. He marched confidently through the mud, avoiding bloodstains for his delicate companion, and arrived at the Lanayru tank shortly. He circled the machine once to look for smoke. The turret hatch was open so there was unlikely to be anything smoldering inside. Lt. Bosso hauled herself up to the top and flashed a torch into the hole. As it happened, she did carry a pistol, and was comfortable enough with it to wield it alongside the torch.
"No one's home. Let's get in and rest for a bit. I wonder if they've got a decent map in here."
Link pulled himself up and slid in after her. She shuffled her way into the driver seat and he slid neatly into the gunner's . This thing had elbow room. Maybe he should have lied about his age and his home province. This would have been nice. It gave him the room to eye the Lieutenant's shapely behind from several excellent angles while she found her seat. He was still considering his luck when she finally put her butt down in a chair.
"So, Sargent Forrester. Let's figure out what's next."
Zelda
Sargent Forrester was rude and brash but kindly enough. His stumbling over her name was fairly rude and Zelda wasn't sure how he didn't recognize it. His behavior bordered on insubordination, but she was grateful that one of them knew what to do at least. She could plan all she wanted, but none of this was like boot camp and certainly unlike anything she had seen in her year of service. She ignored him as best she could when they got in the Lanayru M4A2 and immersed herself in the parts she could see from the driver's seat. The most obvious problem was a misaligned periscope, but there was likely something more wrong with it or it wouldn't have been abandoned like this.
She opened her baggage to see what they had to work with. Extra rations would have been nice, but instead there were perishable goods that had the faint smell of smoke wafting out of the first bag. Probably three or four meals worth for each of them. A field medical kit with little more than trauma bandages and some morphine. If things got that bad they were dead for sure. Her kit was undamaged but was designed to repair Hylian machines. The small kit from under the co-driver's seat would be more useful. Her own pack had some rations and a similar first aid kit supplemented with alcohol.
"What's in your bag, Forrester?" she asked. Maybe he had something of use.
He settled further into the gunner seat and closed his eyes.
Technically not insubordinate. The lists soothed her frazzled nerves. When in doubt, make a list. When the air smells of death and sweat and burning rubber, make a list. When you've seen bloody spots on the ground where your subjects lay dying, make a list. When you're locked in a tank with a stranger with a gun, make a list.
To be fair to Sgt. Forrester, he seemed trustworthy. He was rude and gruff, but followed her where she wanted to go and was clever enough to inspect the machine before he just climbed in like her dead partner. She just left his body there. She didn't even look to see if there was anything she could salvage for his family. Self-recrimination ate her from mind to heart.
"Are you alright?" Sgt. Forrester had come up to her from behind without her noticing. His eyes were soft and concerned and scanned her head to toe. He seemed to be assessing her physical and mental condition with one efficient glance. He didn't seem satisfied with the results when he was done. His hand hovered over her shoulder for a moment before retracting back to his knee. "Is this your first time out? There's no shame in snapping your cap looking at all this. I wouldn't judge you for crying even, the Goddess knows I've wanted to more than once."
Zelda didn't want to feel better. She wanted to curl up and wallow in self-pity. But he was kind and she couldn't help but be comforted by his words. She gave him a wan smile and gave herself a little shake.
"I'm fine. Thank you," she said a little more prim than she had planned, "This is my first day out, but I've been in the service for almost a year. I didn't expect... Well I thought it would be different. I've never been to the front before."
"Little more than the front, I reckon. We seem to have wandered past the front and into the back again. This hunk of metal gonna get us back? I've never been in a tube so roomy. We could..." he glanced at her and changed what he was going to say, "We could throw a party in here."
"Yes, well. There's definitely a few things that need fixing. We'll be here overnight at least. Might need to look for some replacement parts. I'll know more when I open her up." Zelda replied. She thought for a moment then thrust her hand in his direction. "I'm Zelda. What's your name?" She wasn't going to miss another name.
"Link, ma'am."
They shook. Link's hand was warm.
Link
Zelda was a surprisingly good mechanic. She pulled apart the busted periscope and spilled metal innards across the ground like the first slice into a pot pie. It didn't seem like a complicated piece of equipment until he saw all the pieces dumped unceremoniously on the floor of the otherwise pristine cabin. She poked at one of the mirrors with a wrench she pulled from her bag until she was satisfied. Link thought it looked exactly the same as when she started poking at it, but she's the expert.
She bent over nicely to see the track the periscope swivelled on to view side to side. Since her back was turned, Link let his eyes wander over the view she provided. So it was a surprise when a loud clang echoed through the still cabin. It rang like a bell for a moment before Zelda reeled back and whacked the track again with a hammer that had appeared in her hand while he was distracted.
"What are you doing?!" Link asked incredulously, "You're gonna break it!"
She ignored him and reeled back where he caught her hand before she could thrust forward and hit the track again.
"Hey!" She screeched, "Let go! It's almost fixed!"
She yanked against his hold and he tightened his grip.
"You can't do that! What if it breaks? We need that periscope so I can see while I drive this thing back."
She stopped flailing against him for a moment and he suddenly noticed their position. He was holding her arm over her head and had pulled her by the waist to press her back flush against him. There was very little space between them and it was completely inappropriate, but if he loosened his grip she might hit the hull with her hammer again. Or him. Either way, he kept his grip tight and imagined she didn't feel soft and plump and warm. She didn't seem to be having the same problem.
"You drive?! I'll be driving."
"You? I know how to drive these things. You're just a mechanic. You'll be on the radio."
"No, I'll be driving. No one is going to be on the radio. You will be sitting in the back and manning the gun. I can't shoot that thing and there's no way we're getting back without alerting the enemy. When we've crossed the lines then I'll man the radio."
Right. That made sense. He released her body and immediately used his hand to push the hair out of his face. He needed to find out how to fire this thing quickly. She used his lapse to throw her whole body forward and hit the periscope track one more time with all her body weight. She inspected her hack-job and seemed satisfied with the level of damage inflicted. The periscope was reassembled in minutes and she gave him a smug look when it swivelled from side to side smoothly. Minx.
"How do you boys sleep in this heat? I know sometimes you're in here for days. It's suffocating." She asked while sitting down delicately in the drivers seat. It was strangely feminine compared to the way she trudged around while working. She clasped her hands and draped her legs elegantly to the side as if they were sitting in a nice restaurant instead of huddled in a tank beyond the front.
He shook himself. "We don't. I usually sleep on the ground outside. But, we'll have to keep buttoned and tough it out in here. "
Link tried to seem nonchalant as he unbuttoned the first few buttons on his uniform and removed his boots. Every movement felt unrefined compared to her effortless presence. It was going to be a long, hot, uncomfortable night. The width of the cabin wasn't wide enough to lay completely flat, but it was close. He couldn't remember a time that he wished he was shorter. Zelda wasn't faring much better. She was a little taller than him and seemed reluctant to sleep sitting against the wall as he was preparing to do. He mostly didn't watch as she pulled off her shirt to reveal a white undershirt and remarkably toned arms. Link suppressed a smile when she bundled it into a cushion for her distracting bottom. Zelda's shoulder brushed his before he realised that the only place for her to sit was squished next to him, jammed into the console and with her feet pressed against the small step on the other side into the turret. She was soft and warm against his side. He pulled his bandana off his head and offered it to her. Anything to keep her soft hair from brushing him all night long and shifting his dreams to images of her.
pairing: loki x apprentice!reader (gender neutral)
genre: fluff, f2l (i guess), slow burn.
1.9k words.
a/n: felt inspired after reading Fǫruneyti by @foruneyti whose work i admire so much <3
Dark skies loom over the palace, its corridors dark and empty save for royal guards stationed by individual royal chambers and the occasional guards making their rounds. While it’s not forbidden for you to be roaming the palace this time of night, it certainly would attract unwanted attention and arouse suspicions. You carefully avoid getting spotted, swiftly moving across the corridors, past the throne hall, down a spiral staircase and aim right for the large doors of which behind them house your indoor training grounds.
The only light source in the large room comes from the night light that emits from the four enormous windows to the left. Your eyes take a few seconds to get used to the dark and scan the area for a while before landing on the very thing that led you to make the journey all the way down. Your notebook lies on one of the windowsills, illuminated by the light. You sigh out in relief.
“There you are.”
Perhaps your excitement was premature because as soon as you move to grab it, the book dissolves into shining green light. You huff out a laugh, “Idiot.”
“Is that any way to address your prince?”
You turn to face him, clad in his usual soft, black and green leather. The last you had seen him was three days ago during your training with Frigga, which he usually attends even if all he does is sit on the concrete steps by the wall, reading a book, until he was sent to tend to an urgent matter in a different city.
“My apologies, Prince Loki.” You lower your head slightly in a bow, eyes full of jest, “When did you return?”
“Earlier.” He takes steps closer and the night light only does favours to his already beautiful complexion. “I thought I sensed your magic here so I sought out the source. Turns out it was only a book.”
The item materialises in his hand. He moves it back when you reach out and sends you a knowing look.
“The first thing you do after your return is to look for me? I’m honoured.” You smile. “Did you miss me that much?”
Stepping closer for another attempt to snatch the book away, you come face to face with him as he makes it disappear once again. “And if my answer is yes?” Your faces only inches apart, his green eyes bore into yours and you take in a breath but it sounded more like a soft gasp.
Clearing your throat, you divert your gaze to the ground, ignoring the rapid beating of your heart and take a few steps back. Loki is always teasing you, he probably didn’t mean that anyway. “Loki⎼ Prince Loki, may I have my book back please?”
“Have you ever heard the phrase, finders keepers?”
“Please?” You muster up the cutest pout to the best of your abilities.
Loki tries to fight the way his eyes wish to remain glued to your lips but it’s a futile attempt. His own press together in a tight smile and he holds out his hand with the book in it. You study him for a few moments before deciding it isn’t a trick this time. But of course you should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. It disappears just as the tips of your fingers brush against it, your hand lands atop his, he takes the chance and wraps his fingers around yours. Within a fraction of a second, your surroundings change.
You now stand on a balcony at the end of a familiar hallway, stairs leading down to the garden on your left and before you, a magnificent view overlooking the sleeping city of Asgard. A favourite spot of yours, where you spend many late afternoons watching the sun go down, and many of those times with Loki right beside you.
“Lovely view this time of night, don’t you think?” From the corner of your eye, you notice his eyes don’t leave you as he says that yet he looks away when you turn to him. “So calm and peaceful.”
“My my,” you giggle, the sound like heaven to his ears, “feeling sentimental tonight, are we? What a rare occasion.”
“You dare mock your prince?”
“I am not.” you hold your head up, noting the lack of seriousness in his tone this time, “I am only stating facts, your highness.”
He mirrors your smile with something akin to fondness in his eyes, but it disappears almost immediately and he averts his gaze down then back at the view. It makes your heart twist with hope but you remind yourself that you would only be setting yourself up for disappointment.
After a period of comfortable silence, you lean toward him and whisper as if not to disturb his moment of peace, “Loki? Can I have my book back now?”
He copies your movement, moving in unbelievably close, lips hovering just over your ear and your shoulder lifts up slightly when his breath tickles your skin, “No.”
“Loki.” You manage to keep your voice steady and stern yet it only makes him chuckle. A pair of guards walk by, pausing for a moment to acknowledge the prince while you turn away to hide your burning face.
Would they speak of this to others? What would people say if word gets round of you and the prince being up at such a timing, in close proximity, enjoying what one considers a rather romantic view? You wait till they turn the corner of the garden and their backs are out of view before turning back to him. “I’m starting to think you’re only doing this to keep me here. You don’t have to resort to such things to spend time with me, you know.”
“Are you saying you are willing to entertain me whenever I wish?”
“No,” you drag out the word and speak slowly as if you’re explaining something to a child. “I will spend time with you and keep you company if you ask nicely.”
He nods as he listens and a satisfied smile plays on his lips. “You know I will hold you to that.”
“I know.” You smile, “I mean it.”
“Very well then. I’ll return what’s yours.”
“Wait, really?”
The surprise is evident on your face. You were sure he wouldn’t back down so quickly. “But only on the condition that I may have a look at its contents. Just to be sure it really is yours.”
Of course. He holds up the book with a mischievous grin and shrugs.
He knows for a fact that it’s yours. You’re never without it. It holds all the notes you’ve taken down after every lesson with Frigga. Loki often looks on as you write, complaining about how redundant writing is when you can just memorise from practice and that you’re wasting time. Yet he stays with you till you’re done.
The other half of the book however, is full of sketches; sceneries, flowers, random palace people...and of Loki.
You shift uncomfortably at the thought of him seeing your drawings of him. You had set a protection charm over the book so no one other than you, unless you allow it, would be able to see its contents. Mainly so no one else would have access to your notes on magic, but the many sketches you have of the prince isn’t something you’d like others to get their hands on either.
“Well?” He steps closer still flashing a grin.
“Alright.” You say, albeit timidly. A look of slight surprise graces his features and with a flick of your wrist, the charm goes undone temporarily.
You watch closely as he flips from page to page, a playful smirk still playing on his lips until he reaches the halfway mark and the pages appear blank. His brows furrow in confusion and sharp eyes find you again while a finger traces the page from top to bottom. “You’re hiding these pages from me. You’re getting better at controlling your magic.”
“Her Majesty is my mentor after all.” You say proudly, the anxiety slowly dissipating. “Isn’t she why you’re as powerful as you are?”
The book snaps shut and you teleport it into your hands, celebrating internally when it works. It would’ve been embarrassing had it not; teleporting isn’t your strong suit, not yet at least. “It’s late,” you say as you shove it safely into your satchel, but when you look up he’s gone. “Loki?”
“You’re right.” His voice whispers in your ear and you yelp, spinning on your feet to find him smirking behind you. Why do you always fall for that? "It's late. You shouldn't be walking around the palace at this time on your own."
"If there was anywhere I could be walking around on my own it would be in this palace."
He hums in agreement. "Why don't we take a shortcut?"
He offers his palms out to you. You haven’t mastered teleporting yourself yet, only managing to do so over a small distance, so you place your hands in his, fingers very gently holding on to yours. The next moment you're standing outside the doors to your chambers in the apprentice wing. His eyes never tear away from yours.
"Thank you Loki."
"You are most welcome." He stands and looks around expectantly, and when you question his motives, he looks at the large doors behind you. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
You let out a hearty laugh, he waits patiently for you to be done, thoroughly amused himself at how you found that funny. "You wish."
“I thought you said you were willing to spend time with me?”
“Yes,” you look at him unbelievably, “but not now.”
“Well I demand you to.”
“Well I respectfully reject it.” You hold back a laugh from escaping when the corners of his mouth drops into a frown. “Sorry to break it to you but sometimes in life you don’t get everything you wish for.”
"Oh but you see, if I truly wish for something," his eyes dart to your lips, "it will be mine sooner or later."
You shove him playfully on the chest but only to hide the embarrassment. He lowers his head in a smirk, taking a few steps back then looks up at you with his usual look of disinterest.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Loki.”
And he disappears. Pushing through the doors and making your way straight to the bed, you lie on your back and place your hands on both sides of your cheeks, feeling it burn. Then you roll on your front, reaching for the notebook and flipping to the second half where it gets messier, full of lead marks and more importantly doodles and drawings of Loki. Those only you can see. You sigh in relief.
“Wait⎼” Something is amiss. You get on your knees, close the book to take a deep breath and open it up again. Your most recent drawing of him is gone; one you had worked on this afternoon from memory alone, a portrait of his piercing eyes, raven locks and signature smirk. You were sure you’re on the exact page it was drawn on. But it’s empty. Your heart beats a mile a minute. To be extra sure, you check the other pages in a hurry, carelessly flipping through without caring if the pages get folded.
It couldn’t be the charm, as it should work only on others. Everything should appear before you. Turning to the page it’s supposed to be on again, you blink once, twice then squint as something starts to appear, but it isn’t your drawing as you had hoped.
A little sloppy.
Good effort though.
I’m keeping it.
Your eyes widen, lips part and insides start to twist.
summary: it's your first christmas together after jungkook's return. however, you always spend the holidays back home. and this time, he's invited. jungkook has to overcome his fear of facing your family after all that's happened. he soon realises what he was avoiding is what he needed all along.
from the rough edges series
pairing: jungkook x f!reader
genre: fluff, romance, college sweetheart, ex-gang member jk
words: 8k
the alarm rings on your side table, and you wince, eyes still shut, willing to continue the dream you were having. behind you, there’s movement and shifting as jungkook reaches over, hand fumbling about as he tries to dismiss the alarm.
peace resumes seconds later and his warmth blankets you, arms pulling you close, resting his face in the crook of your neck. “time to wake up.” he mutters.
you protest with a whine and feel his smile against your skin, rolling over to melt into his arms. “don’t wanna.”
jungkook sighs, cherishing moments like these where he gets to wake up next to you on the weekends, and laze around. despite your unwillingness to get up, you don’t go back to sleep, choosing to lay in his arms, head against his chest while jungkook runs a soothing hand on your back.
his eyes flicker out the window, where the sun would usually come shining in by this hour. but a new season has taken over, and the clouds leave a trail of shadows behind.
“two weeks till christmas.” he mutters and your eyes flip open.
“excited?” you say, shifting your head to look up at him. “our first time celebrating together since college.”
jungkook stretches his free side and shifts to lie on his back, hand behind his head. “i’m just glad i don't have to spend it cooped up with jaemin.”
“aw but the pictures of you two wearing christmas hats together was so cute.” you chuckle.
it was one of the few pictures they took together, and he’d explained how they missed celebrating christmas so much that they put hats on and had a christmas movie marathon that day.
jungkook smiles but pretends he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. then he rolls back over and rests his top half over yours, making you groan as he lets his weight rest on you. “much rather be right here.” he comments, face smooshed into the pillow next to your head.
“yeah,” your voice comes out strangled beneath him and he laughs, lifting himself. he lowers himself comfortably to your chest and your hands gently brush his hair.
you stay that way for a moment, feeling his body rise and fall against you as he fights falling back asleep.
“my dad’s really excited to meet you.”
jungkook’s eyes snap open suddenly, no longer drowsy, or calm. they find your as he lifts his head. “your dad- oh are we- for christmas?”
his reaction tickles you, but he’s absolutely serious now, abandoning his comfy position and sitting up on the bed, facing you. your hand rests on his. “you know i always spend christmas back home.”
“right.” his body deflates. “i forgot.”
“and you’re coming with me,” you say, getting up yourself, “you’ve been invited.”
“more like summoned.” jungkook gulps, pouting when you break into laughter. “does he…approve…of me? of us?”
“if he didn’t, he wouldn’t bother.” you reassure him. “he’s dying to finally meet the person i was willing to risk my life over.”
jungkook’s mind goes into a frenzy every time he thinks about facing your dad. how could he, when he’d put you in danger all those years ago? landed you in the hospital with a concussion after being held hostage with a gun to your head?
“you know actually…” jungkook clears his throat, “i might stay and look over the studio. if everyone’s going home then i’m gonna need to…you know…take on clients or…walk-ins…”
the blank stare in your eyes tells him you’re not buying it. jungkook had avoided every trip back home since. there was always something. and you always gave him the benefit of the doubt. but logically, you know what he’s doing, and you know why he’s so skittish.
you tilt your head, “jungkook, you can’t avoid him forever.”
“i’m not-” he snorts, fumbling over his words, “i w- it’s just not- you’re crazy.”
you raise a brow, resisting the urge to burst out laughing. jungkook winces at his own pathetic attempt.
“sorry.” he mutters quietly. “you’re not crazy.”
you laugh, shoving him hard enough to make him fall against the mattress. he bounces right back with an embarrassed smile, dimples showing.
“come on,” you say, “he’s my dad. don’t you want to meet him too?”
“i do.” he says quickly, suddenly realising how this might affect you. “it’s just that i…”
“you’re scared, i know.” his body relaxes with your touch, hand wrapping around his. “but why? what exactly are you afraid of?”
“baby, i put his daughter in harm’s way, almost got you killed, how could he ever look at me and think i’m worthy of being with you after all that?” he asks quietly, and it hurts you to know he’s still punishing himself for the past.
“except that’s not all you did…you also took a bullet for me that night.” you remind him, and he leans into your touch. “and he knows why you did what you did.”
jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, “wait you told him everything?”
“i had to, jungkook.” you tilt your head, “he saw me out cold for two days in the hospital, then woke up hysterical thinking my boyfriend was dead.”
it doesn’t make him feel any better, and he buries his head in his hands, groaning. “oh my god. yeah he hates me.”
you giggle when he topples over, staring up at the ceiling in despair. “well if he does, this is your chance to change his mind.”
he lifts his head, prompting a double chin. “so you agree, he hates me?”
“he probably thinks you hate him.”
jungkook sits up at that, grabbing the nearest pillow for support. “don’t-”
“i mean you’ve avoided every possible interaction with him,” you shrug, “maybe he thinks you think you’re too good for him. he’s probably really sad. all he wants is to meet the love of his daughter’s life, excited to show off his wine collection, and the pretty flowers he has in the garden and yet, he’s never gotten the chance to.”
jungkook stares at you. “you’re mean.”
“i’m not the one who won’t give my dad a chance.” you raise both palms in the air and he breaks into a chuckle, diving towards you till your back is against the mattress and him on top of you.
he showers you with kisses despite your squirming, ending with a final, tiny kiss on your nose.
you lie back, staring at him. “he’s gonna love you. just like i do.”
jungkook sucks in a breath, with his mind already made up. looking into your sparkling eyes, wondering if they’re the same as your dad’s, thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
“alright.” he says softly, a smile on his face. “we’ll go back for christmas.”
you can’t contain the glee that escapes you, an excited and childlike giggle which spreads through even jungkook. he plants a gentle kiss on your lips.
–
a mixture of horror and jitters spread through jungkook’s being. he’s already practiced what he’d say, and learnt by heart the schedule your family operates by every christmas. he wanted this to be the perfect meeting, make a good first impression, and most of all he wanted you to be happy.
in all the time he’d spent avoiding a meeting with your dad, you’d been patient enough to tell him to take his time, but now that this is set and he sees how thrilled you are, he realises how much you’ve been wanting this. a part of him feels guilty for delaying this for so long, but now, his heart melts each time you talk about it with a smile from ear to ear.
the journey there is long, but nice. you decided to take the train back since there was no rush. you also wanted to show jungkook the usual route you take when you head home.
what was meant to be a couple of days, ended up being a week at your childhood home, which did slightly elevate jungkook’s stress level. a whole week with your dad, and cousins, but it’s something he figures he’ll worry about when he gets there.
“do you think he’ll like the gift?” jungkook tears his eyes away from the window and to you sitting next to him. you look up from your book and smile.
“you bought him like ten different things,” you chuckle. “i’m sure he’ll like something.”
he pouts, “only three…”
to cover all bases, he ended up buying your dad a wine preserver system, some vinyls of his favourite band, and a craft knife, after finding out what his hobbies are.
you put your book down and interlace your fingers. “i think he’s going to appreciate the fact that you put in so much thought into the gifts.”
jungkook calms down a little, and you let him go on about the latest tattoo designs he’d come up with for the next hour of the train ride just to distract him. it goes by quickly, and you arrive in your city in no time.
with all the luggage, and the cats, jungkook suggested getting a rental car, successfully persuading you to drive instead since you know your way around.
“i like being a passenger princess.” jungkook grins, munching on snacks he’d bought back at the station, showcasing his bunny teeth.
“don’t get too comfortable now.” you remind him, navigating through the familiar roads, finally leaving the busy station and driving at a comfortable speed with no one honking at you from behind for taking more than half a second to react. “i’m a little-”
the car jerks forward as it comes to an abrupt stop when you step on the wrong pedal.
“rusty.” you breathe out. “sorry.”
“okay.” jungkook heaves, shifting back properly into his seat. “i think i’m a little more worried about making it there now than meeting your dad.”
you laugh as you get the car moving again, slowly easing down the roads. as you reach the vicinity of your town, you take your time to show jungkook around the different places, giving him bits and pieces of your childhood. he takes it all in with a smile on his face, though his growing silence tells you he’s still nervous.
“there it is,” you say, nodding to your house up front, “the one with the purple flowers by the gate.”
jungkook straightens up without saying a word. his jaw tenses and his fingers fiddle in his lap while his eyes are glued to the house as you drive around it to enter the driveway. the engine dies down into a soft buzz and jungkook’s eyes dart over to you when he feels your hand on his shoulder.
“it’ll be fine.” you reassure him, pulling him into a hug. he sighs into your shoulder, warm breath tickling your neck. “everyone’s going to love you.”
“promise?” he asks teasingly as he pulls away.
you hold out your last finger. “pinky promise.”
he hooks his pinky around yours and leans in for a kiss. you stare at each other for a minute. and in that time you start to feel a little nervous yourself, thinking about jungkook and your dad finally meeting.
“don’t tell me you’re getting the jitters too.” he says, noticing the change in your body language.
“i guess it’s contagious.” you close your eyes and sigh, shaking the nerves away. then you cup one side of jungkook’s face. “let’s do this. ready?”
jungkook nods. you exchange a sweet kiss before exiting the car.
the air is crisp and cool. snow has been meticulously shovelled off the driveway, and a neat track laid out towards the front door. jungkook smiles at the details he assumes your dad has done to make it easier for his daughter’s return.
he rounds to the back of the car and unloads your luggages, one of yours, one of his, and one filled with the presents and treats from the city. and your two cats from the back seat. as you walk up to the front door with your stuff, your heart almost leaps out of your chest. you look back to see jungkook, setting the luggages right by his front, waiting for you to open the door, raising his brows.
he goes right up to where you stand, and you fix the scarf around his neck, brushing off cat fur from the black sweater he has on. as the two of you stand at the front door, both reeling with nerves, you reach for each other and melt into a hug.
pulling away, jungkook gives you a warm, encouraging smile.
you fit your key through the lock and push the door open, immediately getting hit with the smell of fresh cookies your grandmother makes every holiday.
“i’m home!” you call out, and a head peaks out from the living kitchen.
“y/n!”
your cousin calls out, pulling off the oven gloves while she runs up to you. while you greet her, jungkook takes the chance to drag the baggage inside, then stands there awkwardly as you chat with your cousin. she looks about the same age, with the same smile. it’s about ten seconds later when she realises jungkook’s waiting presence and her eyes light up. “oh hello!”
“hi,” jungkook clears his throat, and extends a hand. “i’m jungkook.”
“nice to finally meet you jungkook,” she takes his hand, “i’m seoyun.”
“nice to meet you too.” he gives her a polite smile.
“seoyun, is that my granddaughter you’re talking to?” a voice comes from the living room on the right, and your cousin rolls her eyes while shaking her head.
“yes grandma, your favourite granddaughter is home.” she smiles at the two of you, grabs on to your wrists, and drags you both towards the living room.
jungkook’s eyes go everywhere, to every corner of the house, the fairy lights around the room, christmas decorations around the fireplace, and the large christmas tree in the corner. the sight strangely brings back a pang of nostalgia, and jungkook’s suddenly transported back to his childhood, standing in his own living room, in front of the tree his own father brought home, while his mother and siblings put up the decorations.
lost in his own thoughts, he snaps out of it when you hook your arm around his, giving it a slight tug. he quickly puts on a smile. “this is jungkook, who i told you about.”
“oh my goodness!” your grandmother gets up from her armchair, leaving the knitting she was working on. if he didn’t know, he’d have never guessed she was your grandmother. skin as smooth as ever, and still steady on her feet, though her roughness of her voice gives her age away.
she places her hands on jungkook’s face. “you’re as handsome as they come!”
“okay, back off grandma.” you comment, and jungkook laughs.
“it’s nice to meet you, i hear lots of great things about you.” he says.
“well i’d hope so,” she turns to raise a brow at you, then turns back to jungkook. “welcome to our home jungkook. i’m glad you could make it this year.”
jungkook nods, and she gently pats the side of his face before turning to seoyun. “how are the cookies coming along darling?”
“perfect! finished the first batch, last tray’s in the oven as we speak.” she stands proud.
“wonderful,” your grandmother taps her nose tenderly, “could you get a plate out, i’ll work on some tea for our guests.”
they strut off into the kitchen, and as they disappear getting to work, you turn to jungkook, raising your brows in question. he breathes out, nodding his head. “that was less scary than i thought it would be.”
“i told you.” you let him hold your hands in his, and you realise how freezing cold they are. “looks like my dad and aunt aren’t home yet. so you have some time to get used to things.”
jungkook nods, looking around the place once again.
–
after tasting a fresh plate of your grandmother’s cookies and talking about your trip here, you decide to show jungkook around the house. the cats were let out of their carriers, taking a couple of minutes to sniff around before recognising the place, and finding their favourite spots around the house.
the pictures on the walls, the 90s home decor, the smell of a lived in house. jungkook is obsessed. it almost felt like he was walking round a museum, studying each corner and every trinket.
on the second floor, you drag him towards your old bedroom. “this was me.” you grin adorably, standing at the doorway.
“wow.” jungkook says, eyes round and sparkly. “not sure what i was expecting but this is very you.”
yellow walls, a single bed in the corner, ending right by the window, a desk by the foot of the bed and an open wardrobe. most of the place looks untouched, except for the bed, which seemed like it had a change of sheets in anticipation of your return.
photographs are plastered over the walls by your desk, of you when you were little up till your teen years. letters written by friends, evidence of a fangirl phase with pictures of your favourite stars fill the rest of the space. on the table, a couple of old text books are neatly arranged by the wall. jungkook could imagine little you hunched over the desk, working on homework, exactly how you used to at your old apartment during college.
he takes his time to look at the pictures of little you, pointing to one where you were clearly upset, face scowling, frowning at the camera, arms crossed in front of you. you couldn’t have been older than ten. “this one’s my favourite.” he claims.
“of course it is.” you roll your eyes, walking over to your dress table, where you’d stuck a picture of you and jungkook on your mirror.
“i’m there too?” he asks excitedly, looking at it.
“all my favourite people are here.” you say, blinking away when he looks at you, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. standing in your old room, filled with memories of your past, with jungkook feels so intimate. like sharing parts of you that no one else would have access to.
before he can say anything else, you hear the swing of the front door, and a couple of voices follow. you look at jungkook, eyes wide. his mirror yours minus the excitement.
jungkook stays rooted to his spot, listening to your hurried steps and the squealing of voices that follow as you run towards your aunt. his steps feel heavy as he follows your trail, hovering over the second floor to see you both hugging. but it isn’t until a man who stands two feet taller than you appears at the door frame, face softening at the sight of you, that jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.
“oh my baby.” he coos, enveloping you in his arms, lifting you off the ground. you fit right in there, nestled against him with a wide smile on your face. “i’m so glad you made it.”
“of course!” you say, pulling away to take a good look at him. you’d miss a couple of visits back since japan happened. “how’ve you been? i’ve missed you.”
“oh i miss you more honey. but i’m better now that my favourite girl is here.” he laughs, planting a kiss on the top of your head.
neither of you notice jungkook’s slow descent down the steps, awkwardly standing there waiting for an opening. it’s not until your dad’s attention lands on him, making jungkook’s heart leap, that you extend your hand to jungkook who comes to your side.
“hello.” jungkook bows. “i’m jungkook. nice to meet you.”
your dad's smile widens and he exhales as if he were relieved. jungkook had extended his hand for a shake, but your dad accepts it only to pull him into a hug. for a moment, jungkook freezes. only ever receiving hugs from you or jimin, this felt new. he feels small within your dad’s big frame. he feels warm, and comfortable.
jungkook eventually heaves out a loaded breath. your dad places his hands on jungkook’s arms, giving him a once over. “welcome home, jungkook.”
–
dinner was nothing short of amazing with jungkook helping himself to multiple servings, much to your grandmother’s pleasure. it took him a while to get used to sitting at the table with everyone, quiet at first, until your aunt prompts questions about his job, to which he was more than excited to share about.
not knowing which parts of his life they were aware about, jungkook was careful with what he shared. he’d squeeze your hand under the table ever so often when he felt a little unsure of things or even if he just wanted to. with your help, things went smoothly and by the end, he was a little more comfortable with everyone.
after dinner, your aunt and cousin take their leave for the night. living just five minutes away, they’d be back again in the morning. the house is quieter without them, just the four of you now.
jungkook helps you get your bags upstairs, rolling your luggage up to your room. grandma walks past just then, giving him a pinch on the cheek and a kiss on yours before heading right to her own space.
“you can have the guest room,” your dad appears down the hall and looks between the two of you, “unless-”
“the guest room is perfect, thanks.” jungkook interrupts.
“alright.” your dad chuckles, winking your way, “come, i’ll show you to the room.”
the layout of your house forms a u-shape with the stairs in the middle, so the guest room, his room is conveniently right across from yours. “there you go.”
“thank you.” he stands politely as he looks at your dad. “for letting me stay here.”
“of course,” he pats jungkook’s shoulder, “you’re family.”
jungkook stands there for a while, even after your dad heads off. he washes up and gets into clean clothes, then sits on the edge of the neat bed. it all feels so foreign yet familiar.
he sighs, letting himself lie back on the mattress, resting his back properly for the first time the whole day. he reaches for his phone and smiles at the notification from you.
[12:50AM] you: u forgot my goodnight kiss
[1:12AM] jk: in front of your dad?
[1:12AM] you: wimp
[1:13AM] jk: big wimp
[1:13AM] you: miss u :(
[1:13AM] you: come over
[1:13AM] you: you should’ve said ure sleeping in my room
[1:14 AM] jk: sorry i dont have a death wish
[1:14AM] jk: miss u too btw
[1:14AM] you: my door’s unlocked
[1:14AM] you: if you really miss me…..
[1:14AM] jk: stoppp
[1:14AM] jk: you’re gonna get me kicked out
[1:16AM] you: :( :( :(
[1:17AM] jk: you’re tipsy from the wine aren’t you
[1:17AM] jk: go to sleep baby, it’s 1am
[1:18AM] jk: i’ll give u a kiss tmr
you don’t reply after that, and he figures you’ve dozed off. but no matter how comfortable he got, jungkook just can’t fall asleep. he tosses and turns for a while before giving up. he gently opens the door, a single lamp in the corner giving off a warm orange glow. then he carefully goes down the steps headed for the living room.
he flips one of the lights on and settles on the couch, pulling his legs into his chest, staring up at the lit up tree. over the time he was away, he’d only seen trees through the windows of different houses. and kim, had always put up a tree for show, but it never really meant anything to him. the last time he had a proper tree, a proper celebration, was when he was a kid.
he shuts his eyes and takes himself back to the past. a place he’d tried to erase from memory. but he still remembers somehow, snuggled up on the couch like he is now, the sound of his siblings running around the house, laughing as they play. his mother by the stove, stirring a pot of his favourite soup while his dad puts up a mistletoe above the doorframe. when times were good. when everyone was happy, before-
“can’t sleep either?” a low voice catches him off guard and he jumps as if he were caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. the older man raises his palms to calm him. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“sir- sorry i-” jungkook fumbles his words.
but your father simply smiles back, urging him to sit, “relax, nothing to apologise for.”
jungkook sits hesitantly, running his palms over his knees, scrambling to find something to talk about. maybe this is where your dad would tell him he’s not good enough for you. he’ll hand you a check, give you an ultimatum, leave my daughter or else-
“it’s a nice tree isn’t it?”
jungkook turns to it once again. “yeah. it’s beautiful.”
jungkook doesn’t realise that he’s far away again. “penny for your thoughts?”
“oh.” jungkook chuckles. “nothing i just…haven’t had a christmas tree in a long time. it brings back memories.”
“good ones i hope.” your father smiles, and he sees your smile. “i’m glad you could join us this year. i was hoping you would.”
“you were?”
“why are you so surprised?” he chuckles. “you have been dating my daughter for the last eight years haven’t you?”
jungkook flinches, the reality hitting him like a brick. he breathes out, “didn’t realise it’s been that long.”
“time really flies, doesn’t it?” your father says. “she talks about you a lot. can you believe after all that time, this is the first time we’re meeting in person.”
“right.” jungkook laughs nervously, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “that’s my fault. i’ve uh…”
“been avoiding me?” your father laughs a low laugh at the panic that settles on the younger man’s face. but his reaction eases jungkook, as he slaps a hand on jungkook’s knee. “it’s alright. i know how it is.”
jungkook chuckles, “sorry. it’s not that i was avoiding you, i just…was worried about how this would go.”
“how do you think it’s going?”
jungkook wonders if this is a trick question. “good?”
your dad gives him a warm smile. “you’re doing great so far, jungkook.”
“thanks.” jungkook bites his bottom lip.
after a quiet moment, your dad excuses himself for a cup of hot cocoa. as he walks away, jungkook sinks back into his thoughts, this time, thinking about you. his worries about your dad come to the forefront of his mind again, wondering if your dad would say anything even if he felt this was wrong.
despite jungkook declining a drink, your dad comes back with a mug of warm milk for jungkook and a plate of cookies.
jungkook’s uneasiness doesn’t go unnoticed. and your dad can tell it was more than just nerves. jungkook sits there fiddling his thumbs, blinking incessantly like he’s fighting with himself in his mind. your dad scoots to the edge of his seat and reaches across to place a hand on jungkook’s knee.
“are you okay?” it was a question jungkook didn’t know how to answer. it felt loaded, like there was something more.
“i have- i wanted to…” jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, and takes a deep breath. “are you really okay with y/n being with me?”
your father watches him for a couple of beats, the longest stretch of seconds in jungkook’s life as he waits for a reaction. with a smile, your father takes a sip of his drink. “that’s what you were worried about?”
jungkook nods.
your father leans forward, elbows on his knees, palms together. “listen i know, a lot has happened. some things, i can’t even comprehend. and i would be lying if i said i was never worried about her. and the things that you were involved in.”
“but i knew the girl i raised, so i trusted her.” he pauses. “then the incident happened. i’ll never forget getting that call, i thought i’d lost her.”
jungkook winces, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth. “i’m sorry. that was- that was my fault.”
your father exhales, looking down at his hands. “she did tell me you still blame yourself.”
“she ended up getting hurt because of me. i didn’t protect her enough.” jungkook says, eyes glossing up. “i tried to keep her out of it all, i knew the risks. but then things got out of hand and i was trying to- it all just- happened and i-”
“you took a bullet for her.” your dad says, “it’s not your fault things turned out the way it did. i know why you did what you did, she told me everything.”
jungkook hangs his head low. despite the gentleness of your father, his embarrassment is greater. “i never did get to apologise to you for that…”
“i don’t blame you for any of it.” he says. “i know you protected her as well as you could. you did the right thing.”
jungkook stays quiet.
“did you think i would not approve of your relationship?” jungkook looks up sheepishly and your father hums in understanding. “you know it would take a lot more than me saying no for y/n to stop loving you right?”
jungkook looks up at him, nodding slowly.
“it’s been years. the perpetrators are gone. you’re safe, she’s safe. i don’t have any reason to keep her from being with you. and, she loves you a lot. why would i ever want to take away the person she loves most?”
jungkook smiles at that. “i love her too.”
“i know.” he nods. “you’ve taken good care of her in the last year. i’ve seen her lose her spark and have it return the moment you reappeared in her life. i only want her to be happy, and you make her happy. i hope you’ll continue to do that.”
“i can’t imagine a life without y/n in it.” jungkook says. “she’s everything to me, and she’s all that i have. she likes to say that i saved her life…but really, she’s saved mine.”
your father smiles warmly, and jungkook heaves out a relieved sigh. the conversation moves to a lighter subject, and neither of them notice when you walk down the steps, walking in on them laughing mid-conversation.
jungkook’s eyes light up at the sight of you.
“what’s this? no one thought to invite me?”
your dad laughs, “just warning him about that attitude of yours.”
“excuse me?” you turn, standing in front of them with your hands on your hips. “i don’t have an attitude.”
“oh yeah, no attitude.” jungkook hums. “just as stubborn as they come.”
you raise your brow at him.
“but also the prettiest, kindest, loveliest as they come.”
your dad laughs, and you nod affirmingly, bending at your knees in a curtsey. he watches as you squeeze right next to jungkook, hugging his arm against you. jungkook allows it, kissing your cheek.
“i’m gonna call it a night.” your dad says, excusing himself. “don’t stay up too late you two, we have a whole day ahead tomorrow. goodnight.”
“goodnight.” you two call out, watching him slip into the kitchen then up the stairs a minute later before his door closes upstairs.
you immediately climb onto jungkook, straddling him on the couch. “what were you two talking about?”
“i was right.” jungkook says solemnly, shaking his head. “he hates me. we’re gonna have to break up- ow!”
“seriously, what did he say?” you hiss, keeping your voice low.
jungkook snickers, holding on to your thighs as you sit on him. “he’s alright with us.”
you grin, chewing on your bottom lip. “i told you!”
“he also said you talk about me a lot,” you roll your eyes, leaning against him, “that you’re madly in love with me.”
“well, he’s not wrong about that.” you comment and he wraps his arms around you. “no one can tear us apart. not even santa.”
–
a pre-christmas clean was something jungkook had anticipated on your family’s schedule. two days before christmas, and the whole house was busy. grandma worked the kitchen, your cousins worked the living area, you were assigned the rooms and jungkook got to shovel the snow.
it didn’t take very long, mostly because the house is always kept tidy. after a quick vacuuming upstairs, some dusting and a little wipe down, you were done. you head outside to find jungkook peacefully shovelling the show from the sidewalk, humming as he goes. snow crunches under your boots as you walk up to him.
“can’t believe you got the easiest task.” you comment, huffing, and a cloud of vapour forms.
jungkook shrugs, smiling handsomely, not even able to deny it. your dad had already done a perfect job of tidying up the snow, and all jungkook had to do was remove the bulk that had built up over the last couple of days.
“this is favouritism.” you cross your arms.
“can’t help it if grandma loves me more than you.” he plants the head of the shovel in the snow and rests his arms on it.
“whatever,” you stick your tongue out, then eye your surroundings. “do you need any help?”
“i’m almost done actually.” he says and you nod.
jungkook shifts the last bit of snow into a pile at the base of the tree in front of your house, then holds the shovel by its handle as he slips his fingers into yours. you make your way to the back, heading for the shed.
“are you excited about christmas?” you ask, wiggling closer to him for warmth.
“yeah. presents in the morning, you said?”
jungkook opens the door to the shed and you follow behind, stepping into the little area your dad built for his gardening tools and other stuff. he even has a little desk for himself to work on crafts. you smile at the wood carvings he’s made and placed on a shelf above the desk.
“mhm, a nice, slow morning together as a family.” you say, “the party will be at night.”
jungkook has his back turned to you while he places the shovel back in its place. when he faces you, you study his face, tilting your head and he raises a brow in question. “is it all too much for you?”
jungkook smiles at your concern. “i’m fine.”
“we can always skip the party if you think you need a break.” you suggest and he leans in to kiss you, pulling you in by the waist.
“i’ll be okay, i think.” he says, “all that hosting during college is gonna come in handy.”
you laugh, cringing at the parties they used to have. it already feels like a lifetime ago. “you were barely there.”
“that’s cause i was always with you.” he says as a matter-of-factly, planting a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“true.” you smile, wrapping your arms around him. “there’ll be a bunch of old ladies instead of college girls, so i guess i have nothing to worry about?”
“i don’t know…” jungkook presses his lips together. “i’m quite the killer among older ladies.”
–
jungkook wakes up bright and early christmas morning. your aunt and cousin stayed over, prompting him to give up the guest room despite them saying they’d sleep in the same room as grandma. but jungkook was insistent, choosing to sleep on the couch instead. although, when the house went quiet, he snuck back upstairs to sleep with you.
“we don’t need to sneak around, everyone knows we live together.” you whisper, making room under the blanket.
he fake gasps. “i don’t want them to think we’re having s e x.”
you stare at him in the dark. “we’re literally old enough to do whatever we want.”
“stop talking about sex.”
“you started it!” you hiss, and he chuckles, running his palm over your face, forcing your eyes close.
the house is quiet and still, the air smells of peppermint and cookies. jungkook washes up, puts on his favourite sweater, and heads back to your room. you’re almost done yourself, smiling at him through the mirror.
“merry christmas.” he says, coming up behind you.
“merry christmas, my love.” you turn in his arms, reaching up for a kiss.
jungkook quite likes how your family spends christmas morning. the joy of christmas lingers in the air, but it’s slow and calm. perhaps it’s because everyone’s an adult, that there’s no rush to open presents, nor does it feel like a competition to see who’s got the better gift. despite that, jungkook starts sweating the moment he spots the gift he got your dad under the tree, while he digs into his breakfast.
a nice holiday movie plays on the television while you and seoyun sit by the tree, passing the gifts around. grandma starts handing everyone something she had personally knitted, gifting jungkook and you matching scarves and socks. though she doesn’t care much for gifts anymore, you both got her a vintage tea set which she gushed over.
everyone opens their presents at the same time, which made jungkook feel a little less burdened. he thinks he’s doing well as everyone opens gift after gift, getting into the rhythm of things, until he sees the package in your dad’s hand.
“ooh this is a big one,” your dad says to no one in particular. jungkook keeps his eyes on him as the wrapping paper is removed and your dad scans the box. he wastes no time and starts unboxing. “wow.”
“what’s that?” your aunt’s interest is piqued at the sight of the machine.
“i’ve only seen this online. this is amazing.” your dad starts gushing, paying special attention to the details of the system, fully engrossed.
“what is it though?” seoyun asks, raised brow.
jungkook clears his throat. “it um- basically lets you pour out wine without unscrewing the cork, and when you don’t remove the cork-”
“it preserves the wine.” your dad continues, eyes full of awe.
finally tearing his eyes away from the gift, he looks at the young man, “thank you, jungkook. this is…wow.”
jungkook’s heart swells, he could almost jump up and down himself. carefully placing his gift back in its box, he goes over to where your boyfriend is. jungkook jumps up from where he sat on the floor next to you, accepting a hug from your dad. “i figured you’d like it. y/n told me you have a wine collection.”
“i love it.” he shakes his head. “you’ll get the first sip of my finest wine tonight!”
jungkook chuckles, a tingling feeling bubbling inside of him. seoyun pokes her nosy head into the bag the box came in and realised your dad had missed something else in there. “there’s more!” she digs inside, and pulls out two, square sealed lp jackets.
“oh,” jungkook eagerly makes a grab for them, handing it to your dad. “these are yours too.”
the older man takes one look at the cover, recognising his favourite band, and gives jungkook a look. “this is all too much.”
“i couldnt really decide what to get you,” he admits, glancing down at you, “so i decided to give you both.”
he thanks you with his eyes, for suggesting he choose only two gifts for your dad out of the three he brought. you wink, feeling emotional as you watch the hopeful look on jungkook’s face, knowing how this had proved to be so pressurising for him. you watch as they bond over the gift, jungkook seemingly already forgetting how nervous he was before.
a little while later he joins you, and your dad disappears to put his new wine system in a safe spot. jungkook watches your family, albeit a small one, exchanging laughter and smiles. almost as if you were in a movie. the warmth that spreads through him feels new. you mindlessly hook your arm around him, leaning against his side as you yap away with seoyun.
“what did you get for jungkook?” seoyun asks, smiling at him.
she had raved about the jewellery set he got you, starting with a simple diamond necklace, its matching earrings to match the limited edition bracelet he gifted you for your birthday earlier in the year.
you almost refused to accept it, not even wanting to know how much he had spent on them, but he was adamant on getting you to wear it right then. “please? i don’t always get you nice jewellery.” he says, ignoring you when you brought up the bracelet.
“i got him this famous wireless tattoo gun machine thing,” you say, and jungkook pulls it out from under the scarf grandma gave him. “he’s been geeking about it for the whole year.”
“that’s why you stopped me from getting it the last time.” jungkook recalls, having already adding it to cart, but you caused a big fuss, telling him he has enough tools already, and that it would be a waste of money. “thank you baby.” he leans in to press a kiss on your cheek.
coming back into the room, your dad catches your eye, giving you a knowing smile. in his hand, he carries a small, neatly wrapped box. “jungkook.” he calls out, walking towards him.
jungkook gets to his feet and your dad grabs his hand, gently placing the box in his palm. “merry christmas.”
jungkook’s eyes go round and he tries not to show it, but from the way his hands are trembling, you can tell he’s excited. the room falls silent as he unwraps it, your dad, grandma, aunt, seoyun and you, focused on the gift. he does it delicately, like its too previous to even open.
when he does, he finds a velvet black box, a little bigger than his hand. his heart almost leaps out of his chest as he opens it. inside, the sight of his gift takes his breath away. jungkook recognises the matte black ceramic body of the watch, with its black dial and gold hour and minute markers. as if it isn’t beautiful enough, he spots an engraving on its side, with his name on it: jeon jungkook.
jungkook is speechless. it’s one of the most exquisite watches he’d ever seen. his lips part and close again, lost for words.
a card peeks out from the side.
“to jungkook:
it’s been a joy having you here this christmas. i can see why y/n loves you so, it’s hard not to! watching you and y/n together, and seeing just how well you fit right in with us, has truly been one of my favourite parts of this holiday. here’s to making more memories together.
welcome to the family.
love, dad.”
while the watch gets its five minutes of fame with the ladies, jungkook’s glossy eyes turn to your dad, immediately letting himself be held. a single tear falls down the corner of his eye, which he’s quick to wipe away. there’s so much he wants to say, but he holds it in.
around them, everyone starts moving. your aunt initiated a family photo, prompting seoyun to get the tripod, and everyone else trying to find their position.
jungkook pulls away from your dad, straightening himself out. without saying a word, your dad nods, giving him a squeeze on the arm.
your dad and grandma keep to the left, while you next to your dad, and jungkook on your other side. his sniffing gets your attention, and you notice the shine in his eyes, to which he shakes his head smiling. you graze your finger against his cheek, planting a quick kiss.
“ready!” seoyun clicks the button and runs to her spot in the front with her mother. the six of you huddle closer in front of the christmas tree, smiling brightly.
snap.
–
by the evening, the house was filled with guests, neighbours, some cousins and even old friends you haven’t seen in a long time. you had planned to stick with jungkook, just in case it all got too much for him, besides, he wouldn’t know anyone here.
but your dad had other plans, keeping jungkook by his side as he served some special wine to the guests. they took turns handling the wine system, it was adorable. of course, they drew a crowd around the table and everyone was enamoured with jungkook, especially the older ladies.
when the wine stopped, jungkook floated around, mingling with the guests. he puts on his best smile, getting stopped pretty often in his search for you among the crowd, eventually getting sucked into a conversation he planned on avoiding. some of your cousins were particularly interested, only having ever heard of your mysterious partner, who is real after all.
an hour passes, and the mingling finally brings him to you, jungkook sighs in relief at the sight of your face. “you. you were supposed to hold my hand throughout.”
“you looked like you were having a good time!” you reason, interlacing your fingers with his. “do you know how many people have come up to me just to ask about you?”
“sorry, it comes with being so handsome.” he cheeses and you punch him in the gut.
“oof.” jungkook rubs his middle. “keep that up and some sugar mommy will come and swoop me off my feet.”
with a roll of your eyes, you let him lift your chin with his finger, landing a soft kiss on your glossy lips. his hands wrap around your waist, and eyes your surroundings with a fake smile on his face. “how much longer will this go on for?” he asks through his fake smile.
“a little more.” you whisper. “one of my uncles will probably start bursting into a song, and everyone will join in…we’ll dance…and then the toasts.”
jungkook sighs. but not in a negative way. he looks down at you, and the new diamond necklace hanging around your neck. “as long as i’m with you, i’m enjoying myself.”
your cheeks heat up, hoping no one around you heard that. “i’m happy you’re here with me. it feels…complete.”
jungkook resists the urge to crash his lips into yours. one of your aunts tap you on your shoulder and he lets you catch up, though your hand never lets go, keeping him right next to you. jungkook barely hears what you’re saying, only focused on how beautiful you look tonight.
he looks around at everyone, taking in the atmosphere. the holidays have never felt so bright, so warm, so full of love. it finally feels like christmas.
–
the guests are gone and the house is clean and tidy again. the lights are down, and it’s quiet. grandma was the first to tap out, heading up to bed first while the rest of you chat over supper.
one by one, everyone heads off to wash up after the tiring evening. you’re already in bed when jungkook comes out of the shower, drying his hair with the towel. he watches the way you try to fight your sleep, but fails as your breaths start to even out. the space you leave for him remains empty. he switches off the lights, and quietly shuts the door, heading back down.
stepping into the kitchen, jungkook grabs a mug, before looking out the window to see your dad sitting out on the veranda out back, smoking a cigar. he gets a quick drink, and places the washed mug back in its place.
when the door to the veranda opens, your dad turns in surprise, breaking into a smile at the sight of jungkook. he gestures to the cigar. “want one?”
“oh no thanks.” jungkook waves him off. he finds a spot next to the pillar by the steps, crossing his arms from the cold. “thought you might like some company.”
“i’d love that.” your dad smiles.
“do you always spend time out here?”
“oh yeah,” he nods, “i like the quiet. the calm. after a long day it’s just nice to sort of…exist, don’t you think?”
it’s something jungkook could imagine you saying. “yeah, i get it. i like the night too.”
“i can tell. you’re always up.” your dad chuckles.
jungkook looks out into the dark, street lights in the distance giving a warm glow. he glances at your dad, sitting there peacefully. “thank you for the watch. and for welcoming me into your family.”
“don’t mention it.” he puts the cigar down. “i hope this hasn’t been too much for you. it is your first christmas since being back, right?”
the idea about discussing that part of his life with your dad still feels odd to him. jungkook clears his throat, “yeah.”
he hesitates a while longer.
“but even before that…it’s not like i celebrated the holidays in any way. i was just wasting my life away. no family. no christmas. i only ever felt that little bit of christmas spirit whenever y/n would come back to the city and bring me grandma’s cookies.”
your father nods, and the quiet takes over for a couple of minutes. jungkook hopes he hasn’t just crossed a line. “she told me what happened…with your family.”
jungkook falters, readjusting himself against the pillar and looks away, swallowing.
“i’m sorry you had to go through that.” he says solemnly. “it’s definitely not easy to lose a sibling that way, especially at that age. and your parents, well..”
“i’m over it.” jungkook says a little too quickly.
your dad decides not to push it. “you’ve gone through a lot jungkook,” he starts, “got lost somewhere along the way…but i’m glad you’ve managed to find your way back.”
jungkook smiles. “i couldn’t have done it without y/n. she believed in me when no one else did, supported me through everything.”
“she’s a special one indeed.” your dad says, nodding.
“she’s everything to me. she’s all i got.”
your dad gets up from his seat, slipping his hands in his pockets. “not anymore. you’re part of our family now, jungkook. you have us.”
family. jungkook bites his bottom lip when it starts to quiver. there’s something about your dad that makes him feel safe enough to show his vulnerability, though he’s still learning to let it all out. your dad steps closer, placing a gentle hand over his head, the gesture triggering a well of tears. “you dont have to fend for yourself anymore. you’re not alone anymore. you have us, lean on us. y/n, me, and grandma packs a mean punch too.”
jungkook chuckles, wiping the tears away as they stream down his cheeks. your dad pulls him in, letting his head rest against his shoulder. jungkook heaves out a heavy sigh as your dad rubs his back tenderly. “as far as i’m concerned, you’re my son now. and i love you.”
jungkook lets his tears fall, quietly choking up. your dad’s strong embrace melts his cool exterior, opening him up to a feeling he’s never felt before.
he feels…safe.
–
your luggage lingers by the door to your room, all packed and ready to go. the cats are in their carriers, napping before the journey. jungkook and you sit on the roof outside your bedroom window, something you used to do in the spring when the weather isn’t threatening hypothermia.
but jungkook persuaded you, dragging along a couple of blankets and some heat packs. you sit between his legs, letting him keep you warm while he packs on the layers of blankets over yourselves.
though you must admit, since the sun has decided to come out today, that it doesn’t feel as bad as you thought it would.
“thanks for a great christmas.” jungkook says.
“thanks for coming home with me.” you look up at him, head against his chest. “i’ve always imagined what it would be like when we spend christmas together. i’m so glad it’s finally happened. and you’ve finally met my family.”
“sorry it took me so long.” jungkook sighs, kissing your cheek. “you have a beautiful family. i think this is my favourite christmas ever.”
“you’re cute.” you giggle, pinching his cheek. “i hope we can spend more holidays together from now on.”
jungkook hums, seemingly lost in thought. he seems to do that a lot these days, you think.
“i was thinking…” jungkook starts, feeling his own heart skip. “maybe we should stay for the new year?”
you jolt upright, turning your body to face jungkook, surprise etched all over your face. “what?”
“we’ve been here for five days,” jungkook shrugs, “what’s a couple more?”
squealing, you wrap your arms around him, and he falls back on the hard tile. peppering kisses all over him, you let out the most adorable laugh he’s ever heard. “are you for real? we’re staying?”
jungkook laughs, nodding as he pushes himself back up. “i love your family, and i’d love it if we got to start the new year with them.”
you chuckle, tears welling up in your eyes and jungkook wipes them away with his sleeve. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too, baby.”
snow starts to fall as your lips meet in the middle, moving gently against the other. for the first time in his life, jungkook understands what it meant to have a happy holiday. for the first time in his life, he’ll start the new year with a family.
he’d once wished for a christmas miracle, the longing of a lost boy sent out into the universe one cold night. and now holding you in his arms, he realises that maybe his wish had finally come true.
friends with benefits! yoongi & oc.
part two of intimate (highly recommend reading this first).
one of them has caught feelings. minors dni.
6.5k words.
masterlist.
the smell of sandalwood incense wafts through the apartment, a scent that matches yoongi’s cologne. as you stand by the large windows, staring at the rain pouring down on the streets, your thoughts go wild, considering the possibilities of what may happen tonight. after your last hookup, you avoided him. or tried to.
yoongi was persistent, not because he couldn’t take a hint. but he wasn’t sure what he did wrong to have you suddenly push him away. he didn’t even consider that it might’ve been his fault initially - maybe you were just stressed about work, or family or something else that wasn’t him.
but as weeks go by, your one worded texts and curt responses weren’t cutting it out for him. not when you’re posting like normal on instagram, spending nights out with friends.
this time he doesn’t wait for you to pick up on the other side of the call. his car is parked right in front of your office building, and he stands right across the entrance, waiting for you to come out. when you finally do close to 7pm, you pause mid-way out the door. blinking at the man now standing on the footpath with his hands in his pockets, an unimpressed look on his face.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, taking small steps and maintaining the distance between you.
“had dinner yet?” he ignores your question.
your mouth parts to answer but you hesitate. your cold front was so much easier over the phone. now standing in front of him, you shrivel up in guilt. you hadn’t explained anything to him, and he’s probably as confused as ever.
you shake your head gently. “no but…it’s alright i can get something on the way back.”
yoongi nods, lips pursed. then he turns, and you think he’s mad. but all he does is open the passenger seat door for you, nodding his head for you to get in. your feet feel heavy. you shouldn’t. you have half a mind to back away, and speed off down the street.
but of course, you don’t. not when he extends his palm out to you, a hint of hope in his eyes.
his thumb gently caresses the back of your palm as you step inside, adjusting yourself comfortably. you wonder if you’ve made the right choice as you watch him cross the front of the vehicle and slipping into the seat next to yours. he leans over to reach for your seatbelt, face now inches away from yours, the smell of his cologne in your face, and you curse yourself for forgetting to do it yourself.
the entire ride was silent as he let the radio fill the car. yoongi never cared much for conversation anyways, it was always you chatting away while he drove. but now, the silence is too much even for him.
he drops you off at his fancy apartment, one you’ve been to many times, hands the doorman a bunch of bags and tells you to wash up while he gets you dinner.
twenty minutes later, you’re out of the shower, wearing clothes you’d left behind months ago, just an oversized shirt and red strawberry shorts.
the front door clicks open and yoongi enters with packed food from one of your favourite restaurants. he doesn’t let you help, only pulling the chair out for you as he starts setting the table with the food.
the entire vibe is awkward, though yoongi looks unfazed. not that you’re not used to him doing this for you, he’s always taken the initiative to set the table and everything. it’s the elephant in the room that’s killing you.
you take a few bites before already feeling full, not from the food but from the glasses of water you’ve downed in an attempt to calm your nerves. as yoongi eats quietly, you prod at the food with your fork.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, far too casually with how everything’s going so far. “not good?”
“it’s good.” you answer way too quickly, dismissing him. “i’m just-”
“not in the mood?”
you look up and his dark eyes pierce straight into yours. you muster up a smile. “i’m full.”
“that’s fine,” he nods, reaching for your plate, “you can have it for lunch tomorrow.”
yoongi’s fingers wrap around the edge of your plate, but before he can bring it over to his side, your hands wrap around his wrist and the dish falls back on your placemat. his eyes flicker up at you, only now having noticed the large cut on the back of his hand. “your hand. what happened?”
he shrugs, turning his hand to look at the wound. it’s mostly healed, but still a little red. “cut myself while trying to fix that mirror.” he nods to the newly placed mirror by the front door.
you had suggested that once. months ago. for one last outfit check before we leave the house! you reasoned. he listened.
“the mirror fell the first time round. cut myself while picking up the pieces.” he explains, but doesn’t pull his hand away, waiting till you finally ease up.
your face still twisted with concern and the guilt you’ve been wearing the entire evening. “i told you not to diy things…” you click your tongue. “you’re not handy.”
“excuse me? who do you think assembled half the furniture here?” he scowls.
“pretty sure they assemble things for you when it’s delivered.”
“maybe for clumsys like you.” he retorts and you crack a smile, scoffing out a tiny laugh.
“i’m not the one that dropped a mirror.”
he chuckles, and your heart skips. “it was heavy.”
your giggles eventually die down, and once again an awkward silence blankets the space between you. but with the tension having died down a little, you let out a tiny exhale before getting up with your plate, going round him to the kitchen island and racking the cupboards for a glass container to store the leftover pasta.
yoongi comes round a minute later with his empty plate, giving it a wash while you help him clear the other stuff on the table and giving it a wipe down.
“thanks.” he says when you appear next to him, running your hands under the water.
you smile, shaking your head and reaching for the paper towels, now standing before him awkwardly. “thank you for getting dinner.”
“you barely ate,” he comments, “are you-”
“i think i’ll head home.” you blurt out, and his brows raise ever so slightly, the soft smile he had on gradually disappearing.
he turns his side to you, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. an attempt to protect himself from whatever this is; the banging in his chest making him warm. “it’s late. just stay here for the night. i’ll drive you back tomorrow.”
a low rumble comes from outside, rain still pouring down.
you shuffle towards the window, looking at signs of life down below. it’s not that late, you could still catch the last bus if he won’t take you home. he watches your back as you contemplate. you don’t even realise he comes close, till his arms wrap around your middle and you stiffen in response.
he notices, leaning his head against yours. “i’m not letting you leave in this weather. it’s not safe.”
he presses you closer into him, and you feel your insides tingle. it’s been a while since you’ve been this close, feeling his breath on your neck.
as he slowly lowers his head, bringing his lips to your shoulder, pressing soft, gentle kisses over your skin. he feels your muscles slowly relax under him, and the corners of his lips turn up into a smile. you feel it against you.
a palm slips under your shirt, roaming over your tummy, getting teasingly close to your chest. he hums, turning his attention down south, cupping your sex over your shorts. you suck in a breath. “yoongi.”
“hm?”
the movement of his fingers causing friction between your folds and the shorts has you losing focus. all thoughts about leaving pushed to the back of your mind as his other hand plays with your breasts, flicking your nipple while he slips the other under your shorts.
“i’m-” you lose your voice.
“already?” he chuckles, breath tickling your neck as he plants kisses just under your ear.
you don’t bother with a retort, fully engrossed in whatever he’s doing to you, fingers expertly navigating your folds, then locating your clit which has your knees turning to jelly. your fingers fist his sweater behind you, and the other around his arm as you angle your hips for a better feel.
breathy moans leave your lips, head now leaning back against his shoulder. you hate that you’d much rather be doing this on his king sized bed, letting him have his way with you till you’re spent. you hate how you’re still so weak for him. even after you promised yourself to let him go.
you could’ve just said no, and he’d leave you alone. let you go, probably send you home himself. but one touch and you’re all his. you’re no better than him after all.
“oh princess, you’ve missed me huh?” he comments, watching the way you roll your hips against the heel of his palm, the wetness letting three fingers enter easily.
“ah-” your nails dig into his arm.
he wastes no time of course, eager to let you reach the climax you’re craving for. wet, sloppy, embarrassing sounds can be heard over the sound of the rain as he fingers you without mercy. resting most of your weight entirely on him now, he feels your body twitch, and your voice hitching.
with a kiss to your cheek, he curves his fingers in the way you like it and your back arches against him, as you come all over his fingers.
he holds you steady as you regain your senses, fingers tenderly rubbing against your sensitive folds till he feels your weight slowly pushed off him. still, the arm around your waist remains as he removes his hand from your shorts.
clouded by the ecstasy cursing through your veins, you turn in his hold, wrapping around him and kissing him hungrily. not one to refuse such eagerness, a clump of your hair ends up in his fist, steadying you against him, moulding his lips against yours.
hands grab the underside of your thighs, lifting you into his arms, and he carries you to the couch where he drops you gently. no time is wasted as he swiftly tugs his sweater off, then his pants, exposing his already hard self.
your shorts come off and his pupils dilate at the sight: wet, sticky, and ready. he rubs his length against your folds, watching your face twist with a growing need. your body twitches as he lets his tip rub against your clit.
he thinks he hears a whisper of his name. “what’s that, princess?”
you breathe out a sigh, lifting your head to watch as he slowly rubs against your swollen folds. “please-”
“please what?” he lets his tip slip inside you only for a second before pulling out again. you whine in defeat. “i can’t hear you.”
“i want it.” you say, bringing your fingers to your aching core, but he slaps it away.
“what do you want, baby?” a sudden jolt shoots through you as he slips in again, and pulls out. but what’s more is the nickname he used. baby. it’s always princess, or darling. never baby.
“i want you.” you whisper. “i want you inside me.”
it’s not enough for him. “you want this inside of you?”
you nod desperately and he almost gives in. he reaches down to tug your shirt- his shirt- over your head, running his warm hands over your naked body, leaning in for a kiss while continuing to rub himself against you.
you whine against his lips, bucking your hips into his. he curses, slapping the side of your ass. you yelp out a cry. he hovers above, staring at your face. “please?” you utter with the sweetest voice you can muster.
“i don’t want to.” he kisses you. “you think you deserve to get fucked tonight? after ignoring me for three weeks?”
you can only stare up at him as he continues to roll his hips. “i-”
“leaving me on read. not calling me back. and you think you deserve this? hm? i think i might just spend all night making you beg for it instead.”
“no.” you whine, “i wont do it again. i’ll be a good girl.”
his chest rises and falls as he listens. “yeah?”
you nod urgently.
“you gonna be a good girl for me?”
“i promise.” you bite your bottom lip as you watch him get back on his knees, cock twitching against your folds. “fuck me please.”
“again.”
“fuck me yoongi. fu-”
he lets his cock inside you fully this time, groaning at the feeling of your warm cunt swallowing him. he hisses, easing his breath so he wouldn’t cum prematurely.
yoongi holds on to your calves, pushing your legs against you. with one dark stare, he starts ramming into you, and you lose all your senses at once. all you can feel is yoongi, slamming his hips into yours ruthlessly.
“wai- yoong-” you try to grab hold onto something.
your sounds of pleasure fill his apartment, feeling yourself quickly reaching your climax at the pace he’s going. yoongi leans back, holding your legs up as he deprives you of a chance to catch your breath, feeling you tighten around him. your body tenses, and you cry out as you tremble in his hold, cumming all over his cock, feeling it drip down your ass.
he slows down, but doesn’t stop, leaning in to kiss you once more. he plays with your tits, bringing his mouth over one and squeezing the other.
he gets back to his knees and continues to fuck you, causing you to cry out from sensitivity. he pulls you closer, bottoming out inside of you and groaning in pleasure.
you complain with a whine, reaching out for his arms.
“i thought you wanted me to fuck you.” his voice is low and raspy, catching both your wrists and holding them close to him, stopping you from pulling away.
cries of pleasure mix in with your cries of ache in your core. “mm- cum-”
“ugh, i’m spoiling you when i should be punishing you instead.” his voice trembles as he speaks, hooked onto the look on your face.
you barely register the words coming out of his mouth, only on the way he’s slipping in and out of you, sounds of skin slapping filling the room, the sweet moans that come out of you on its own.
“cum together?” you ask so innocently it makes his dick throb.
yoongi angles himself nearer, mustering up whatever energy he has left, locked in on your eyes, that seem to have a shine to them. when your wrists wriggle in his grip, he knows you’re close.
his hips move at a constant pace. not the same kind of loving from the last time you met, it was more of a warning never to ignore him again. and you’ll gladly accept the consequences.
the sounds coming out of you are melodious. you cry out his name, sobbing when it gets too much, “yoongi- i can’t-”
your body twitches as it reaches its limit, thighs squeezing together as you tremble, cumming all over his cock. with a grunt, yoongi cums right after, transfixed on the ecstasy on your face, and the way the walls of your cunt squeeze around him.
he lets himself fall forward, hovering over you as his hips buck into yours, milking out every last drop.
—
soft music from yoongi’s room travels into the bathroom, where you and he have made yourselves comfortable in the tub after a shower. every time, you’re amazed at how lavishly he lives. there was a high rise apartment kind of rich, which he is, and then there’s a huge bathtub in a bathroom of a high rise apartment kind of rich. also him.
he rests on the side across from you, leaning his head against the solid, eyes closed. you keep to your end, allowing your senses to finally return, screaming at you over what occurred. this wasn’t part of the plan. but you just couldn’t resist him. you needed him.
as if he could hear your thoughts, yoongi snaps his eyes open. and the first thing he sees is yours. after a couple of seconds, the water swooshes about as he slides over to your side.
when he settles down, you turn to the side, meeting his gaze, and break out into a chuckle. he swings his arm around your shoulder, and you very naturally slide into him.
his arm rests on your thigh like it’s the most natural thing ever, and he stares at your side profile. you turn to him, running your eyes over his face. “yes?”
with a straight face, he stares into your eyes that shine with so much vulnerability in them, “tell me what’s wrong.”
“nothing’s wrong.” you say softly, knowing he doesn’t believe you. you don’t believe you.
“then why are you being so cold to me?” he asks. if he’s hurt, it doesn’t show. “if i did something wrong, you can tell me. i want to know.”
“you didn’t do anything…”
“stop.” he shakes his head, “clearly something’s bothering you. what is it?”
“i wanted some time for myself.” you say without looking at him. “is that so wrong?”
he raises a brow and you squirm, feeling his grip on your thigh tighten when you do. “why didn’t you just say so?”
“because.” you shrug. “it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. i don’t have to tell you everything.”
he stops and stares. “are we just gonna pretend you’re not taking a tone with me?”
“i’m not.” you huff, sliding away from him and turning to face him with a slight frown. he loves that. you cross your arms, wanting him to drop it already. but at the same time you can’t help but to relish in the fact that he actually cares enough to want to find out why you were distancing yourself. “you’re overreacting.”
“i’m over-” yoongi laughs. “you’re impossible, you know that?”
he didn’t mean it in a bad way, evident by the smile still on his face. he puts his palms up, shrugging. “fine, if you say we’re good, then i’m good.”
“yeah. we’re good…” your voice fades away towards the end and he raises a knowing brow. “can i ask you something?”
he laughs, having expected this.
you suddenly feel exposed in the middle of the tub. “what do you think about…this?”
“this?”
“you know…” you slide closer, placing a hand on his thigh. his eyes roam to your bare collarbone then back up at you. “this…between us?”
“what?” his hand slides over yours and up your arm. “you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
you start to get warm when he focuses on you, expectant. “us. this thing between us.”
“you mean this awkward tension after you ghosted me for three weeks?”
he sees the drop in your expression and moves closer to you, hugging your side. “hey, i was kidding.”
you nod, smiling weakly. “i know. sorry.”
he runs his eyes over your features, hand placing over your tummy, “i missed you.”
you turn to see his smiling face, and his thumb tracing over your cheek. he doesn’t seem to be joking this time. “you did?”
yoongi nods. “of course. all those nights i could’ve spent cuddled up with you but instead…it was just me.”
“oh, so you missed…” the sex. of course. that’s all that you are to him afterall. why did you think three weeks would make a difference. he has other options. in fact, he might’ve had them over when you didn’t respond. “right…”
“what?” he asks when you try to wiggle out of his hold.
“i think i’m done being in the water.” you say with a fake smile. droplets of water roll down your form as you get up and yoongi watches your figure make your way out of the tub, wrap a towel around yourself and leave the washroom.
–
back in his room, you’ve managed to find other pairs of clothing you left behind and put them on. you unplug your phone from the nightstand charger and check your notifications, only now realising he’d sent you a bunch of texts over lunch. the chat was muted, so you never realised.
you hear the bathroom door open behind you, and he steps out in a robe, walking over to his wardrobe. you don’t turn, pretending to be busy by the window.
“why didn’t you wear the ones i got you?” he asks, holding up the bags you’d brought up earlier.
you see it from the reflection on the window, and turn. “i didn’t realise they were for me.”
he raises a brow. “you didn’t think i’d wear this, did you?” he snakes a hand inside and pulls out a light blue laced lingerie.
you chuckle at the image, covering your mouth. his muscles visibly relax when he sees you smile.
“there’s also a new pajama set in here. i know you like when things match inside and outside.”
your face goes warm again. why does he remember such details about you? you only mentioned it once, you think.
“thanks.” you go over to him and receive it. “do you want me to wear it now?”
yoongi rests on the edge of his bed with a scrunched up face. “you can wear it whenever you want to. it’s yours. i don’t buy stuff just cause i wanna see you in it.”
you look at him with a raised brow.
“fine, sometimes.” he says with a straight face and watches as you roll your eyes and strut across the room in your oversized shirt - his shirt - and place the bags by your stuff. “i buy things when they remind me of you.”
you look at him with an amused look. “so you walked past a lingerie store, saw a set you liked and thought of me in it. how sweet.”
“thank you, i am pretty sweet.” he chuckles, patting the space next to him. you walk over slowly and he grabs you by the hand, letting you settle between his legs instead. “but this time, i thought about you…what you’d like…and bought them because i know you’d like them.”
you can’t lie and say your heart didn’t skip a beat. “you were thinking about me?”
“clearly more than you thought about me.” he retorts.
you stare at his pinkish lips, wet hair pushed back, dark orbs looking up at you, and heave out a sigh, relaxing into him. “...i thought of you.”
“yeah?” he hums, pressing you close. “tell me more.”
“you first.”
“the evidence is right there in those missed calls and unread texts baby,” he whispers. then closes the gap between you again, tucking your hair behind your ear and cupping your jaw in his palm, in a gentle way but to show he’s in charge. he brings your face close and presses your lips together, getting his kiss. you whimper into it. “god, i’ve really missed this.”
you push back against him, pulling away with a smack of your lips.
“is that the only thing you miss?” your voice is quiet but it fills the space between you. he ponders for a moment, eyes trailing over your features.
“what?”
shifting, you finally reach for him, hands gripping the hem of his sweater. “were there other things you missed…or just the sex?”
“sounds like a trick question.” he grins. “is this a test?”
“i’m serious yoongi.” your hands ball up in fists, pulling on the front of his sweater. “i want to know…do you miss me? or just someone to mess around with?”
the look on his face tells you it finally clicks in his mind. yoongi is quick, it wouldn’t take him much to figure it out. he just needed you to give him information.
“so that’s what this is about.” he hums, staring at you. you’re flushed, barely able to raise your head.
you stay quiet.
“this is why you’ve ignored me? and acting strange this whole time?” maybe it was just your imagination, but his hold around you loosens. he might as well have kicked you out.
your brows scrunch up, walls going up in defense. “i didn’t say that.”
“y/n…”
you hate that tone he says it in, like he’s tired of this already. you avert your gaze. “you didn’t answer the question.”
his silence is all you need to confirm it. when you try to move away, he holds you back, forcing you to look at him again. he stands over you now. “i did miss you. not just the sex.”
his mouth parts and closes like he’s not done.
“but…y/n, didn’t we talk about this?” he takes a breath. “remember what i said in the beginning? i only want this if we can stay friends throughout. and you agreed.”
“i know that.” you huff. “i know what we agreed on. but…i-”
“the whole reason why i set that condition was because i was trying to avoid something like this from happening.” yoongi explains. “i’m not- i dont- i don’t like drama.”
“i’m the drama?”
“no this-” he gestures between you, “this is the drama. this is why i don’t date. there’s always something, honestly…i just wanted something without all the…”
your heart clammers in your chest, feeling all sorts of rage. “well i’m sorry i didn’t live up to your expectations then.”
as you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist, “don’t say that. that’s not what i meant.”
it’s quiet but the thundering of your chest takes over your senses.
“y/n we…we talked about this…” he repeats, as if it would make it better.
your heart sinks, freefalling thirty stories down the apartment building, smashing into the concrete floor below. i knew it i knew it i knew it. you knew he doesn’t feel the same. he doesn’t want anything more than whatever this is. and the thing is, you can’t be mad because he’s right, you did talk about it and agree to this physical relationship with him.
you’re suddenly flushed, and embarrassed, like you’re trapped in a glass box and yoongi’s on the outside, staring at you.
“right…” you whisper, chuckling lightly, “we did.”
when you look at him, your eyes have a shine to them. you fight back the lump in your throat, especially when you see the way he looks at you. stop looking at me like you care! you want to scream.
“sorry i’m being silly.” you push away from him, straightening yourself out, “i just…nevermind.”
“y/n-”
“forget about it.” you look up at him, a pleading look. “please.”
he squeezes your wrist, like he wants to say something, hold you a little longer, but he doesn’t. instead, he swallows, and nods, agreeing.
that night, you lie on your side of yoongi’s bed, while he stays on his. you hear him sighing out every now and then, and you know he’s not asleep either. you stare out the window, and a single tear drops down to the pillow. you try to be as quiet as possible, sniffling silently.
but clearly not silent enough, because you feel a shift behind you, and soon your freezing back is in yoongi’s warmth as he snakes his arm over your middle to pull you close, not saying anything, just letting you know he’s there.
it makes you cry more, knowing this will never be how you want it to be.
–
yoongi drifts off into a daydream, thoughts dragging him to a different country. he’s due for a nice vacation, and he can see it now, a casual stroll down the streets of rome, or a beach in bali, or maybe to london during christmas. that would be nice.
but for some reason, his mind conjures up an image of you along in all these scenarios, as if it were not complete otherwise; your hand in his as you walk down the streets of rome at night, taking pictures of you with the eiffel tower at the back, seeing you all bundled up with a warm scarf around your neck in london. fuck.
snapping back to reality, he’s faced with a woman in front of him, who’s yet to stop talking or realising that she’d lost his attention ten minutes ago. this was his fourth try in a week, but somehow, not even one of them came close to you.
“hey, sorry.” he cuts her off. “i’m feeling a bit sick.”
her brows scrunch in worry. she doesn't have the same cute face you do when you do that. “are you okay? i have some-”
“i need to go. very sorry.” he pays for her drink anyways and zooms out of there, disappearing between the bodies of people before she can run after him.
it’s been two months since you spoke. the morning after that night, he’d gone to work early, and you woke up to an empty house but with breakfast delivered right after a shower. he must have been checking on you through the cameras.
but you packed your things and left.
and he never chased you.
yoongi drives through the city, with no destination in mind. he stops by the road just before a turn which leads to your apartment, letting the window down and the cool breeze calm his mind. why can’t he stop thinking about you? why can’t he let you go? he’d sworn of relationships, but even he can’t deny how natural it all felt when he was with you.
the squeeze in his chest tightens when he’s reminded of the sounds of your sobbing that night in his bed. you let him hold you. even though he’d hurt you.
he thought of calling, or sending a text. but nothing felt right. then days turned into weeks, and eventually a month had gone. and another. in that time, he kept himself busy, went to the bar thrice a week like he used to. spoke to lots of women, none of which made him forget about you. none made him feel the way you did.
you just had something which made him calm and happy. the sex was amazing, but so were the other things, like how you’d cuddle his arm when you watched a movie, the way you get on your tiptoes to kiss him. the scrunch of your nose when you get mad.
“damn it.” he curses, scrolling through his phone.
—
“hey, you’re back!”
your neighbour greets you as you slip your key into the lock, the other hand on the handle of your luggage, sliding it through the entrance. you give her a warm smile. “yeah, got the early flight.”
“how was germany?”
“colder than i was expecting,” you shake your head at the memory, almost froze my fingers off. but it was a nice time.”
she pouts, locking her door. “i’m jealous.”
“to be fair, i spent most of my time working.” you shrug, waving her off, “you didn’t miss out much.”
“oh well.” you neighbour sighs, “you got a little downtime i hope- oh! by the way, your boyfriend came looking for you.”
she sees the growing confusion on your face.
“long hair, looks mildly annoyed?”
it can’t be-
“he was here every evening last week, knocking on your door. had to tell him you weren’t in town eventually…it was getting sad.” she laughs at the memory, oblivious to the way you’re standing there in mild horror.
yoongi had come looking for you?
“i told him you’d be back today. hope that’s not a problem? i mean i’ve seen him around before so i thought…”
“oh,” you give an awkward laugh, slightly more horrified that she recognises him, “yeah don’t worry about it. thanks for letting me know.”
after a short goodbye, you let yourself inside and let your head fall back against the door, hoping the pain would mask the embarrassment you feel right now. you want to scream, not just at the fact that your neighbour has probably heard you and yoongi those nights together, but also that he came to look for you.
granted you’ve put his chat on mute permanently, but you never received any calls in the last week you were gone.
not wanting to get out of your dirty clothes yet - this is much too urgent - you check your chat with yoongi.
can i see you?
i want to talk
please?
that was a little over a week ago. like your neighbour said, he’d come round all week, probably thinking you were ghosting him again, wanting to make up and go back to your usual hookup.
you wouldn’t put it past him. although you were sure he was done with you after that night. moving on to the next person he can find, no strings attached. no drama, unlike you.
what if he does end up wanting to go back to normal? it’s something you’ve thought about a lot. he’s good at that - letting things go.
and to be honest, you wouldn’t be opposed to it. not because your girlfriends haven’t yelled at you enough to stop going back, nor is it because you no longer feel the same about him.
it’s because you miss him. and maybe being close to him, even just for sex, is better than losing him altogether.
fingers hover over the keypad, wrecking your brain for what to say. nothing comes to mind. you can’t think straight, not with the jetlag fogging over your brain. you leave it for now. it’s better to respond with a clearer mind.
after a long shower, you let the pillows swallow you whole, succumbing to the heaviness of your eyelids, knowing you’d probably have trouble later tonight.
–
the sky is dark when your eyes flutter open, having slept for five whole hours. you sit up groggily, wiping the drool off your chin, contemplating your existence. the immediate grumbling of your stomach reminds you that you haven’t had a proper meal since yesterday.
you’d emptied the fridge before your trip, so takeout is your only option.
after a quick wash up, you’re grabbing your keys and turning the door handle, only to find yoongi, fist halfway up to a knock, face as surprised as yours. maybe even more. you might have even noticed a gulp.
he stands there in all black, in his casual work attire. after a couple of moments, his shoulders visibly relax and a smile appears on his face.
i’ve missed you.
–
despite refusing, yoongi insisted on driving you to the fast food joint nearby. it was only a twenty minute walk, which meant the awkward ride was thankfully shorter.
at this time of the evening, a crowd had gathered inside, forcing you to stick closer to him than you would have. not that he minds. in fact, he finds himself straining to keep his hand from wrapping around your shoulder and holding you closer.
“you don’t have to eat here if you don’t want to.” you say, looking up at him as he looks at the menu. “i’ll get it to go.”
“we can eat in the car,” he tears his eyes from the screen, “or at my place?”
the question lingers. you ignore it, allowing the noise to drown it out, pretending you never heard that part.
“set b?” he asks, and this time you hear him fine, and look at him again.
“yeah-”
“upsize with fries, no veggies on your burger?”
“yeah.” that’s exactly what you were gonna get. you fight the sting in your chest, a mixture of surprise and affection that he remembers how you like it. even more so because you never really frequented this specific place as much together, only those nights he’d come over.
your thoughts come to a pause when a shoulder bumps into yours, squeezing through to get to their order on the counter. instinctively, yoongi wraps his arm around your waist to keep you steady, pressing you against him. sneaking a glance at him, he doesn’t react, keeping a straight face as he looks ahead. holding you close, like it’s only natural.
you end up eating in his car parked by the street as you watch people go by, while he watches you. it’s impossible not to notice when he does it so brazenly. but you don’t acknowledge it, continuing to pick the pickles off your supposedly no veggie burger.
“they’re not bad,” he laughs, “the flavours come together when you eat.”
“it’s not that i don’t like them.” you explain. “i just don’t like them with my burger.”
he shakes his head with a chuckle. then it goes quiet again.
“sorry i didn’t reply to your texts.” you finally say.
yoongi looks up from his food and you notice the way his eyes light up, and you spot something you rarely see in them, vulnerability. his walls are down.
“that’s okay.” he shrugs. “you were out of the country.”
“for work.” you nod. not that it mattered. and yoongi isn’t stupid - why would being elsewhere stop you from replying?
“how was it?”
“it was nice,” you shrug, “cold though.”
“mm.” he nods, and you can hear the wheels turning in his mind. he’s yet to bring up what he wants to talk about. “how’ve you been? in the last month.”
distracted. a mess. heartbroken.
“fine.” you manage to keep a straight face, though you’re sure the crack in your voice betrays you. “what about you?”
“i’ve been okay.” he shrugs, looking down again. “bored.”
you think he might be baiting you, but one look at him and you realise not. he looks at the fries in his hand, chewing and deep in thought. you wonder if everything’s okay. it’s not unusual for him to be quiet, but something feels off.
“is everything alright?” you ask, hesitantly.
he takes a moment, surprised at your sudden concern.
“do you want to drop by my place?” he comes right out and asks, hopeful, though it doesn’t show. he’s also aware he’s fully ignored your question, but he’s been waiting for you all week, and now that you’re here everything he wants to talk to you about feels like it’s much too important to be chatting in a car. “we could hang out and talk a bit more?”
his heart races while you contemplate.
you scrunch up the wrapper in your hands and take a sip. “maybe next time? i’m really tired.”
a lie, you’d just slept for 5 hours.
it was odd, you’d just rejected his offer, but you feel the pang in your chest when his expression drops in disappointment. yoongi never shows too much, not like this.
a part of you wonders if you should go with him, tell him you’ve changed your mind. you can sleep over after all (cause that’s always a good idea, right?). but then you recall the last time you were there, and your face heats up.
yoongi doesn’t question you. he drives you back without complaining, and walks you up to your door despite you telling him you’re fine on your own. as you stand at the door, thanking him for dinner, you contemplate, on a hug- a handshake?- or something. “thanks yoongi.”
“no problem.” he stands, hands in his pockets. “can i see you tomorrow?”
“i know it’s been two month, but surely you can wait a little more.”
his brows raise slightly, an urgency in his voice. you were joking of course. “no- it’s not- i-” he calms down when you laugh, “i just want to talk.”
he inches closer and you freeze as his eyes drop to your lips, but his hand comes up to your hair, tucking the stray strands out of your face and behind your ear.
“i’ll pick you up.” he says, still staring at your lips, and you wonder if he’ll kiss you. he doesn’t, eyes flickering up to yours. “okay?”
“okay.” it comes out as a whisper.
–
yoongi arrives on time as promised, face lighting up as soon as you exit the doors of your building, carrying a big tub in your hands. his eyes land on it as he opens the door for you. “what’s that?”
“i baked. banana bread.” you say.
his eyes flicker up to yours, corners of his lips turning upwards. he loves your banana bread. you see the silly smile on his face as he crosses the front of the car and into his seat.
“it’s still warm.” you click the cover off the container, “you want a taste?”
before he can respond, busy steering out of the street and checking mirrors, you’ve peeled a chunk off and reached over to his lips. yoongi gulps at the scent, taking the bite, and pretending he doesn’t feel your soft fingers brush against his lips.
“so good,” he mutters as he chews.
the smile stays throughout the ride, and you silently hope it’s not just the banana cake that’s kept it there. and it’s not because your girlfriends haven’t yelled at you enough about going back to him, you’re fully aware that he doesn’t see you in the way you want him to.
don’t do this to yourself. dont be stupid. you deserve so much better. their voices echo in your mind.
and yes, maybe they’re right. but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy being with him for as long as he still wants you around.
as soon as you arrive at his place, the smell of tofu stew lingers in the air, and you see the table already set up for two. he comes up behind you, gently resting his hand on your back. “come on.”
“did you make this?” you ask, taking a sip of the soup that he’d scooped into a smaller bowl for you.
his brows scrunch together, “are you questioning my abilities?”
“hm. it’s a little too good.” you take another spoonful and let out a satisfactory squeal.
“i’ll have you know i made it from scratch.” he narrows his eyes at you. “and with love.”
he pauses abruptly at the end, not realising what he’d said till it left his mouth. you wouldn’t have thought anything about it, just yoongi being yoongi, but his reaction has you focusing on the food in front of you instead of him.
“it’s really good.” you say, mid-chew.
the tension eases, or at least, yoongi goes back to normal, and gives a warm smile as he takes a bite himself. “thanks. i put in lots of tofu, i know you like them. and also your favourite enoki mushrooms.”
“you’re sweet,” your heart hammers against your ribcage, god you adore him.
a comfortable silence falls between the two of you while you continue your dinner. he asks you about your trip and you tell him about how you didn’t want to go, but was essentially chosen for it. he listens carefully as you go on, at times, eyes dropping to your lips then back up again.
then after, yoongi does the dishes while you wipe the table down. when you’re done, you go over to his side, helping him dry them before placing everything neatly on the rack.
“thanks for dinner.” you say, as you watch him dry his hands.
“no problem.” he mutters without looking at you, busy pulling out two mugs. “hot chocolate?”
you nod, eyes lingering a little longer over his features.
he gets to work, hands moving swiftly and you stand there watching him. after he pours the steaming hot water into the mug, stirring the drinks, he turns to you, now heading in your direction.
your heart hammers in your chest as you step back, but the counter sits behind you, and traps you as yoongi closes in. he looks down at you for a moment, and his pupils watch you swallow the lump in your throat. a tiny smile breaks out before he extends his hand, reaching behind you for a spoon.
you let out a quiet breath when he steps away, the clinking of the spoon against the mugs as he stirs. why are you so nervous?
you clear your throat, and straighten yourself out. he hands you a mug, and you take a sip before placing it back on the counter, watching him.
“so, what did you want to talk about?”
“about the other night.”
you start to heat up, remembering just how terribly it went. “can we not?” you huff out an embarrassed laugh.
his lips curl up. “i want to though.”
“okay…” you turn away, walking around the island as he watches you. “what about the other night?”
you take interest in the view instead, noticing how the clouds have greyed above, a glow of lightning in the distance. ironically in the same way it did the last time you found yourself here. behind you, yoongi follows your path, showing up by your side. “when did it start? for you?” he asks bluntly.
“i don’t know.” you dart your eyes around everywhere but him. “it just did. i just like spending time with you and being with you. and…i like you.”
his head nods gently, trying to understand it. “you’re cute.”
“what?” you laugh, swallowing down the nervousness building in your throat.
he smiles, then runs his hand through his hair. “you might not know this but i’m not very good at romantic stuff.”
your eyes go wide comically, and you cover your mouth with a gasp. “really? i would’ve never guessed!”
“okay.” he says in response, rolling his eyes with a smile tugging on his lips. “i um, set those conditions at the start because i…really suck at relationships. it’s something i’ve never really been good at.”
“did someone hurt you?”
“maybe. i don’t know.” he sucks in a breath. “like i said, it’s just…drama.”
“hm.” you nod, not knowing if you should pull on this thread.
“things always end up in a fight about something.” yoongi mutters. “i don’t do enough, or i care about my work too much- i don’t know.”
you’ve always felt yoongi loved his job a lot. he is his own boss, and puts in hours in the studio when he needs to, not the typical nine to five most people go for.
“and i never know how to fix things…i’m just…bad at it.” he shrugs. “so i thought, from then on if i could have something less committed, someone who wouldn’t curse at me for not texting back or not liking their posts on instagram…then maybe i could have a relationship without the relationship. you know?”
you nod, looking at his side profile as he stares out the window. you get it now. his cold demeanour at times, his nonchalance, isn’t for everyone. and yes, he isn’t the best at noticing things, like how you’d completely fallen for him months back, but it doesn’t make you feel any different.
“i see.” your lips form a pout as you pause in thought. “what if it just wasn’t meant to be?”
“if you bring up my rising moon water sign or whatever-”
“i’m just sayingggg,” you drag it out and he chuckles, “sometimes you like someone but your idea of love doesn't match?”
“idea of love?” he turns to you, “love is love.”
“true.” that stupid grin on his face is contagious. “i’m saying, that sometimes it just doesn’t work out because you don’t understand each other. your old partner’s love language might’ve been quality time, and your busy schedule made them feel unsatisfied.”
“right. so.” yoongi shakes his head, shrugging. “doesn’t change what i said. it’s too much drama.”
you open your mouth to speak, but stop yourself, instead smiling and nodding.
yoongi notices, and scratches the back of his neck, “sorry, i’m being defensive again. i told you, i’m not good at this.”
“it’s funny, you keep saying that.” you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling the chill. “but haven’t you been doing typical relationship stuff already? you pick me up from work, you cook for me, call me just to talk, we watch movies together, you let me tell you about the books i read, you rant to me about the artistes you work with…it’s basically a relationship. just without commitment.”
yoongi thinks about it.
“even that part,” you chuckle, “i mean i dont know about you but, i haven’t been with anyone else ever since we started this.”
he swallows. “me neither.”
you try to fight a grin. “well then. that’s commitment, isn’t it?”
yoongi’s turns back to the view and you think maybe you’ve annoyed him again.
“we don’t have to label it, if that makes you happy.” you say quietly, shrugging one shoulder when he looks at you. “we don’t even have to continue it…”
yoongi steps closer, carefully shortening the gap between you. he runs the back of his fingers lightly over your cheek. “but will that make you happy?”
your heart feels like it just dropped to your stomach at the unexpected question. his hands find their way to your waist, wrapping around them and holding you close to him. “me? i-”
yoongi rests his forehead against yours, shutting his eyes as if letting his feelings in pains him. “i want…to make you happy.”
you don’t know what this means, but the words coming out of his mouth feel foreign to you. this is a man who’s just spent the last five minutes explaining why he doesn’t do relationships but is he now, confessing?
“i…” he starts, then stops again. “i can’t stop thinking about you. this last two months have been torture. i couldn’t see you, couldn’t talk to you, couldn’t hold you in my arms.”
“yoongi, what are you-”
“do you know how much it hurt hearing you cry that night? i felt like an idiot the next morning.” yoongi confesses, opening his eyes and looking at you now. “i didn’t want to hurt you anymore, i knew i couldn’t commit to anything more than what we were…so i thought i’d let you go.”
“but fuck, was i an even bigger idiot for that.” he laughs at himself. “i missed you so much you even showed up in my dreams.”
all you can do is stare at him, barely registering what he’s saying to you.
“so…what are you saying?” you ask, heart hammering in your chest. with the way he’s holding you against him, you can feel his heart rate rise too.
he gulps, biting his lip. “i’m saying…i think i like you too.”
your eyes all but light up, in shock at first, then your face crinkles into a huge grin, “what?”
he shuts his eyes, groaning as heat pools in his cheeks. “i like you. and i want us, this to be…something. officially”
you wrap your arms around him, studying the shy smile on his face and the way he avoids eye contact. “you really do suck at this, don’t you?”
his brows furrow slightly. “i thought that went well.”
“why did you ramble about not wanting another relationship, then tell me you like me back?” you tilt your head.
he wets his bottom lip at the way your eyes look up at him. “maybe i didn’t think that through. but i wanted you to understand why i didn’t want us to end up dating…and i want you to know that despite all of that, now i’m willing to give it a shot. with you.”
your eyes get glossier and you blink incessantly. “yeah, you suck.”
he smiles down at you. “i guess you’re going to have to take the lead.”
you look at him seriously for a minute. “are you sure about this? if it’s not what you want, we don’t have to…i’m okay for us to go back to how we were.”
“you said it yourself, we were already acting like a couple before,” yoongi says. “and i think, adding a label to it won’t make much of a difference. not when our feelings are mutual. hm?”
you grin up at him, the most adorable smile ever.
“so?” he raises a brow. “would you like to be my girlfriend?”
bitting your bottom lip, overcome with so much glee you could burst right there and then, melting into his arms.
–
“you know this means we have to hold hands when we walk down the street?”
you lie in his bed, fresh after a shower, wearing one of his shirts and your leftover shorts. yoongi comes over from where he was drying his hair, settling for the spot next to you, resting on his side, head on his palm. “been trying to do that since forever.”
“and i can come over anytime.”
“mhm.” he rests his free hand on your middle, leaning in to kiss you. “you can stay here.”
“can i hard launch on instagram?”
he makes a face. “not big on that.”
“please? it’s a private account.” you jut out your lower lip, and he hates how it’s working. “i just wanna show off my hot, sexy producer boyfriend.”
“in that case yes.” he grabs your chin, pressing his lips to yours, forcing them apart for a heated kiss. “make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” he whispers against you.
“am i?” you tease, gently brushing your lips against his, breath hot against him.
“you’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” he kisses you slowly, teasingly, while his hand slides down south, touching you over your panties. “always so good to me, always ready for me.”
you let out a tiny whimper. he brings his hand back up, to your chest, pushing his shirt up and exposing your breasts. sighing in content, he presses gentle kisses against your breasts, riling you up until he rolls his tongue against a nipple.
“did you think about me at all in the last two months?” he asks against your skin, moving to your other breast and taking it in his mouth.
your back arches, fingers grabbing on to the back of his head.
“did you?” he repeats, pulling away to look at you. half-lidded eyes, red lips.
“all the time.” you admit quietly.
his fingers grab the flesh of your waist in an attempt to control himself. “yeah? and what did you do about it?”
“cried myself to sleep?”
you chuckle and he breaks into a laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple, then lands a smack to the side of your hip, making you yelp. you shift your body to hug him, and he tugs your leg over him, sighing into the hug.
“i thought about you alot.” you say, leaning back against the pillow. “thought about your voice, your kisses, your hands all over me…”
“show me.” he whispers.
and he swallows the dryness in his throat as his eyes trail after your hand which slides down your smooth skin, legs separating and moving your panties to the side before your fingers rub over your clit.
your face burns under his stare, you’d never done this before, touched yourself in front of him. his eyes are hooked on you, grabbing on to the thigh closest to him and angling your leg up for you to slip your fingers in yourself.
a strangled noise comes out of you, and his dick twitches in his sweatpants.
your soft whimpers distract him from your movements, and as soon as his eyes land back on yours, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. his hand remains on your inner thigh, rubbing the skin, and you wish he would touch you.
“look at you,” he growls, “don’t even need me.”
“need you-” you whisper, fingers slowing down.
“do you?” he teases, caressing your inner thigh before he lands a slap on it, making your legs tremble, hand pulling away to grab his wrist. “who said you could stop?”
you protest when he tugs his hand away, “i want you to do it.”
a smile tugs on his lips, and he lets you guide his hand exactly where you want him. “you want me to what?”
“touch me.” you whine. “please yoongi.”
“so spoiled.” he comments, kissing you on the forehead just as his fingers make contact with your folds, running over them tenderly, then rubbing slow circles over your clit, taking your silence and heavy breaths as a sign of approval.
you feel the increasing wetness around your entrance, a growing need to have him fill you up. but you know he won’t make it so easy. three fingers enter you, staying in place till you catch your breath, his sharp eyes watching you intensely.
no sooner than when you lock eyes with him, does he start his work on you, not bothering to start with a gentle pace. he knows what you like, and what you can take. the squelching as his fingers move in and out of you has you heating in embarrassment, but it only fuels his need.
his fingers curve, and your lower body arches, taking your breath away with the need for more. your thighs start to close in, and he hooks his leg over your right leg to keep them apart.
“mmf- fuck-” you huff out, clawing at his arm.
he swallows your curses with his mouth over yours, kissing you gently, a contrast to his movements down south. your mouth falls slack as you start to see stars, and yoongi sees you to the end, fighting the ache in his arm to bring you to your high, till he’s coated in your release.
your hips twitch as you let go, feeling him pull his fingers out as you catch your breath.
moments later, you feel him move away from your side, and his hands on your knees, pulling your legs apart to look at you.
you peek at him, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.
he glances at you, then smirks, pulling your soaked panties off. “always so messy.” he teases.
you bite your bottom lip in a smile. “who’s fault is that?”
he shrugs, watching you push yourself up and pulling him down by his shirt to kiss him. your hands travel up his body and he hums as you shove the fabric up and pull it over his head. your kisses go down south, from his neck, down his body and right down to the hem of his sweats.
as you pull it down, exposing his length, yoongi stops you with a hand on your wrist. “what are you doing?”
“returning the favour,” you say obviously.
he frowns. you made it clear early on when you started fucking that you didn’t want to do blowjobs. and yoongi never cared for it, he’d much rather be inside you anyways.
“i thought you don’t do-”
you grab the base of his shaft and press a kiss to his tip, making him twitch. “i make exceptions for my boyfriend.”
yoongi slides the rest of his sweats off and sighs, “well i guess i won’t say no.”
you take your time with him, covering each part of him with a kiss before letting him in your mouth. yoongi seethes the moment you take him in, the warmth of your mouth a new feeling for him.
you bob your head against his hips, taking all of him as you watch his eyes fall shut. yoongi’s hands find their way to your head, bringing your hair up into a ponytail in his fist. “fuck y/n, you’ve been holding out on me.”
“hm?” you hum and he curses again, this time bucking his hips into you.
when he opens his eyes, they meet with yours, but his is full of lust, and the power dynamic shifts as his grip on your head tightens, guiding you to move in sync with his hips as they meet you halfway.
you protest when it gets too rough, and he mutters a lazy apology, quickly switching back to a gentler pace. barely catching his breath, yoongi focuses on the way you devour him, but the obscene image alone could bring him to his high. he tugs on your hair to slow you down, groaning when his cock leaves the warmth of your mouth.
you look up at him quizzically, and he simply guides you back onto the mattress, hovering over you. “sorry baby, but if you keep going, i might not even make it past the next five minutes.”
yoongi swallows your laughter with a heated kiss, lips moulding into yours, hungry and urgent. an ache forms down south and yoongi’s cock twitches when you wrap around it, wanting to guide it inside you.
he swats your hand away, tutting. “i thought you liked this part.”
heating up, you remember telling him how much you enjoyed the foreplay, sometimes even more than the actual sex. he’d never forget such a revelation.
“i do.” you admit shyly, “but i want to feel you inside me already.”
yoongi heaves out, leaning down for a heated kiss before whispering against your lips. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”
he shifts to his knees, dragging you closer, hooking his arms under your knees, angling your hips a little off the bed. lust takes over his gaze as he looks at your bare form, cunt wet and spread out in front of him. angling himself over your folds, he looks into your eyes as he slips inside, staring intently at the way your mouth parts and pleasure seeps through your expression.
you lean back into the pillow, eyes closed as you concentrate on how it feels. his hands drop down to where your hips and thighs meet, keeping you close as he slips in and out of you, gentle and intentional.
an electrifying buzz flows through his veins, something he’s never felt before. it makes his fingers dig into your flesh, the feeling intensifying each time you whimper as he pulls out and slips back in.
“baby,” he whispers, and it makes your heart flutter.
turning back to him, you manage a small smile, and he feels the walls around his heart disintegrate. the fog that’s plagued his mind the last two months is finally clearing up. how he ever let you walk out that door, he’ll never know. but he knows now that he’s never going to let that happen again.
how was he ever so blind to not realise how you made him feel? he should tell you that, he thinks. his words have never failed him when he’s writing lyrics, or producing songs. but this is where he falls flat. maybe one day he’ll figure out how to tell you exactly that without fucking it all up.
your hands reach out for him, craving his skin against yours. yoongi leans forward to wrap around your middle, lifting you off the bed and into a straddling position. now, face-to-face, you trace a finger over his cheek as he holds you close.
“i love you.” the words leave your lips so easily.
you can tell it took him by surprise, and you don’t expect him to say it back. not now at least. but he shows you his response in the way he crashes his lips into yours, devouring you as his hands roam your body while your hips roll against him.
his kisses travel down your neck, past your collarbone and towards your chest where your back arches at the slightest contact of his tongue against your sensitive buds. his grip keeps you steady, and when your hips stop moving against him, focusing on the attention he’s giving you. a soft sigh escapes you, and he tears away from your body to look at you.
tucking stray hairs behind your ears, yoongi urges you to continue with a roll of his hips. as you do, he leans back with his palms steadying him, watching you ride him. while confident at first, you start to heat up under his intense stare as his eyes travel down your body, to where you’re joined, and back up again. you let out a nervous laugh, hands reaching out to cover his eyes and he chuckles.
swatting it away, you let yourself fall against him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and resting your head against his. “why so shy? let me see you.”
you resist when he tries to pry you away.
“you’re beautiful, you know that?” he says, not in a teasing tone he usually takes.
you slowly lift your head, leaning your forehead against his. “you have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.”
he plays off the tingle in his chest when you mention boyfriend. “you’ve always been beautiful. even before you were mine.”
the last sentence surprised even yoongi himself, still feeling a little odd about saying something like that. claiming you as his. “yours.”
a tense silence lingers as you stare at each other, breaths heavy, skin sticking to each other. “yeah.” yoongi finally says, grabbing your waist and shifting you back onto the bed.
his hands roam up your thighs, over your tummy, breasts, up your arms, linking your fingers together as he rests his weight on top of you, hands above your head. “mine.” he whispers against your lips, hips thrusting into you at a steady pace. your breathing picks up, soft whimpers leaving you each time he bottoms out.
your hands get clammy, loosening your grip when an intense buildup takes all your focus away. yoongi showers you with kisses, his low voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
“you feel so good-” a strangled grunt follows and you know he’s close.
you look up at him, half-lidded eyes, and he could cum just by the sight of you. “yoongi…” you whine, the sound so heavenly he wants this feeling to last forever.
“yeah baby?”
his hips slam into yours and you let out a cry, breathless. “i can’t-”
“i know baby, i know.” his voice rings in your ears, and he frees your wrists from his grip, allowing you to wrap around him as he steadies himself on either side of you. your hands rake through his hair, pushing back the strands sticking to his face. “feels good huh?”
his lips hover dangerously over yours as his hips start to twitch. your legs hook over his back, letting him deeper inside you each time. “i’m gonna take such good care of you,” he whispers, lips touching yours teasingly.
you can only mewl in response, eyes never leaving his. yoongi locks in the moment he feels you tighten around him, parking his thighs under yours and going at a steady rhythm. he watches the way your body reacts, breasts bouncing with every thrust, mouth parting and fingers digging into his back. “yoongi.” you call out gently, but urgently.
“you gonna cum for me baby?” he coos, feeling the buildup in his own core. he can only last for much longer.
with a gasp, your back arches as the tension in your core snaps, sending intense waves of ecstasy flowing through you. thighs shaking around him, and feeling your warm walls convulse around his cock, yoongi manages one last deep thrust before bursting own release inside you, hips twitching as his moans mix in with yours.
with whatever strength he has left, yoongi continues to roll his hips against yours, milking out every bit of pleasure he can, lips pressed against yours. your legs continue to shake each time he thrusts, letting out a soft cry from the sensation.
then your body goes limp, only the sounds of your breathing accompany him as he regains his senses. he hadn’t felt that kind of high in months, and you’re the only one that could ever do that to him.
yoongi removes himself off and out of you, hissing at the obscene sticky fluid all over himself and you. “that was…”
“intense.” you say, laughing when you finally feel your fingers again.
he chuckles, lying on his side and you do the same, facing him. “you look pretty.”
your face heats up under his stare, but a mischievous grin doesn’t leave your face, and he raises a brow. “what?”
“nothing,” you shrug with one shoulder, “just that i could’ve sworn i heard you whisper something in my ear back then.”
“really?” he asks, smiling now too as his palm snakes over your side, allowing you to hook a leg over him. “what was it?”
“couldn’t really make it out.” you bite your bottom lip, still grinning like an idiot. “do you remember?”
“it’s all a blur,” he mumbles, “who’s to say you weren’t imagining it?”
but the tug of his own lips tell you otherwise. in the heat of the moment, just before yoongi’s lips crashed into yours as he reached his high, you swore you’d heard him mutter three words you didn’t think he could manage without thawing his icy heart first.
“dunno,” you scoot closer, feeling his thigh sliding in between yours, “sounded pretty real to me.”
you lean in for a kiss, and he hums. “maybe round two will clear things up? if it happens again, then maybe it was real after all.”
“maybe it’s always been real.” you say softly and he processes it, watching you quietly as he tries to figure it out himself.
“maybe.”
-
bonus mini-epilogue:
six months into the relationship and you’ve progressed well beyond your friends with benefits boundaries. it surprises yoongi each time you do something you’ve never allowed during your situationship. this time, it’s nudes.
don’t get him wrong, he’s thrilled to receive them each time. but you also take joy in sending them to him while he’s at work, and not within reach of you.
yoongi stares at the picture you sent an hour ago, receiving it mid-meeting and not having digested anything his team had discussed. he leans against the elevator wall, eyes hooked on your bare body as you sit on your knees on his bed, back slightly arched, arms above your head. a masterpiece.
he almost sprints down the hall and bursts through the doors, surprising you off the couch.
“yoongi.” you blink, watching him slip his shoes off and throw his keys on the kitchen counter. “you’re home early.”
his eyes look at the oversized shirt you have on, reaching your thighs.
“came back for lunch.” he says casually.
“i didn’t prepare lunch,” you frown, wondering if you’d forgotten a plan to have lunch together. but then he walks towards you with a look in his eyes you recognise. “oh.”
he smirks. “you’re such a little minx.”
“am i?” feigning innocence, you take a step back for each step he takes towards you, till his arm reaches out to tug you.
“new rule; no nudes before lunchtime.” he hugs your waist.
“hmm.” you press your lips together. “i think nudes are great any time of day.”
“not when i’m stuck at work an hour away and can’t put my hands on you.”
“that’s perfect,” you reason, “you have all day to think about what you’d do to me when you get home.”
yoongi heaves out a sigh mixed with a groan, wondering if he should match your energy or save it for tonight. he in fact, has already thought about what he’d do to you. but it would take him longer than he has, already having scheduled a meeting with a record company in three hours.
“i feel like i’ve been a bad influence on you.”
“only a little.” you chuckle, leaning your chin on his chest, tilting slightly to the side. “well since you’re here now.”
yoongi smiles. the kiss goes slow at first, then turns hungry while his hands roam over your body to find nothing underneath the shirt you have on. he hums in approval and is about to push you towards the couch, when a low rumbling sound breaks into the moment.
you stare at each other for a moment. then you break into laughter when he rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “it is lunchtime…”
“you’re so silly.” you sigh, still breaking into giggles. “maybe let’s do actual lunch, and save the fun for later.”
wiping the tears from your eyes, you let yourself fall into him again, giddy with laughter. yoongi watches you rest against his chest, looking up at him with fondness in your eyes. he can’t help the feeling that overflows from his insides.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ex-bf jungkook who doesn't understand that breaking up meant he didn't need to wait for you outside your gym wednesday nights anymore. but no way in hell is he gonna let you walk home alone.
ex-bf jungkook who orders dinner straight to your doorstep on nights you work overtime. ex-bf jungkook who doesn't see why he can't call you anytime he wants, just to talk about how your day went. we're still friends.
ex-bf jungkook who cancels his meetings the moment he gets word that you're ill. not even an hour later bursting through the door with the spare key he keeps forgetting to return. wrapping you in a blanket burrito style. placing a cool towel over your burning forehead.
ex-bf jungkook who kisses the top of your head when you finally start snoring lightly. crouched by the side of your bed, hand clutching yours. ex-bf jungkook who smiles to himself when your clammy fingers interlace with his, spending the rest of the night nursing you till your fever breaks in the morning.
ex-bf jungkook who sucks at being an ex, lying peacefully with his entire weight on you, wrapped in your arms, cheek pressed to your chest and an infuriating grin plastered on his face. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚
friends with benefits! yoongi & oc.
one of them has caught feelings. minors dni.
2k words.
part II
the tv plays softly in the background, drowning out the sounds escaping you, hoping it doesn’t travel past the thin walls of your apartment. you actually like your neighbours, and you wouldn’t want to wake them up at two in the morning to the sound of you having sex.
you let yoongi come over at this ungodly hour only after he promised he wouldn’t make you scream. but he barely has to do anything before you start eliciting sweet moans. music to his ears. but a promise is a promise. he presses his palm to your lips when you start to get louder, though he doesn’t stop bucking his hips into yours. “said you wanted to be quiet.” he hushes you.
the low hum of his voice makes your toes curl. a strangled breath comes out when he lets go.
“can’t help it,” you whisper, biting your lip to stop another whine.
soft smile tugging on his lips, his black eyes stare down at you. amused. and a little endeared. then his gaze drops to the white lace bra still hugging your chest. he takes a breath, hips slowing down, and traces a finger along the hem of the lace, leaving goosebumps in his trail. “is this for me?”
you huff, brows narrowing like you were offended by his insinuation. did he really think you ditched your looney toons pajamas for a matching set of laced bra and panties? because you did. but you don’t want him to know that.
“no? they’re my regular set.”
he chuckles, and you feel your heart rate climbing at the sight of his gummy smile. that stupid smile that caught your attention at the bar all those months ago. the stupid smile that got you into this mess.
yoongi had caught you staring back then as he brought a drink to his lips, mid-conversation. you play it off, turning back to your friends, hoping he’d forget about it in the next five minutes and you’d get to very casually steal a couple more glances.
fifteen minutes later, he slides into the empty stool next to yours and orders himself a glass of whiskey. you do a double take when you realise, watching him pay for the drink with a tap of his card. next to you, your friends continue to squabble over something half-drunk, not realising you’d completely shifted out of the conversation.
“you know it’s rude to stare,” he says, looking ahead. then at you.
“who’s staring?”
“you’re practically drooling.”
“i-”
he smacks his lips before you get the chance to rebut and sets the glass down, angling his body towards you slightly. he extends his hand out halfway. “i’m yoongi.”
“y/n.” you take his hand, impressed by the smoothness of his skin.
“can i buy you a drink?”
“thanks, but...”
he raises a brow, “boyfriend?”
you smile, gesturing towards your friends. “i’m the designated driver tonight.”
he nods slowly, swirling the glass between his fingers and watching the liquid move. “good. no boyfriend.” he mutters before bringing the glass to his lips with his eyes hooked on you. “unless…girlfriend?”
you shake your head gently.
his smile widens gradually, and once again you can’t stop staring. leaning against the counter, he grabs a couple of peanuts and flicks them into his mouth. “so, what is it about me that caught your eye?”
“dont flatter yourself.” you roll your eyes, playing it cool, but it feels as though he has x-ray vision. “i just happened to look in that direction.”
“mm.” his nonchalance drives you mad. his eyes drop down your body, before coming back up to you, and you swear something flashes in his eyes as he does.
“it’s rude to stare.” you tilt your head as you make your point and he chuckles, looking away for a second. “or is there something about me that’s caught your eye?”
he snaps his gaze back to you, and silence blankets the two of you as you simply stare at each other.
this man is exactly your type. he’s witty, composed, hair down to the nape of his neck, but neatly brushed as if each strand is in an assigned spot. he also looks like he’d make your eyes roll to the back of your head, which is not the most important thing here, but it’s there for you to think about.
breaking contact first, he downs the last of his drink and gets to his feet. “don’t wanna interrupt your girls night, so how about a drink with me some other time?”
your insides go tingly. you’d already made up your mind of course, but it’s always fun to let them wait. you pout your lips, resting your chin in your palm as you pretend to think.
he watches you carefully, eyes naturally running across your neck down to where your cleavage sinks in, then back up to your collarbones. his smirk falters ever so slightly in his concentration, tongue snaking out to wet his lips that have gone dry. he’s a man who knows what he wants. he wanted you.
and he always gets what he wants.
he had you bent over his couch the next time you met, screaming into the cushions till you came not once or twice, but thrice that night. from the moment you let him touch you, he knew you’d be worth his while. he couldn’t get enough of you.
but he was also adamant on one thing. that you remained only friends.
so now you’ve officially been friends for six months. friends who have a lot of sex together. and hang out occasionally after. he hated the term friends with benefits so you never called it that. your girlfriends tell you it’s a situationship. but truth be told you don’t care what it’s called.
because as he stares at you from above, shifting the strands of hair that sticks to your forehead, dick throbbing inside you, you fear you might not be able to keep that promise.
yoongi watches you carefully, the way your eyes look straight past him, not reacting to anything in a while. “you okay?”
you blink and he sees your soul return, mustering a gentle smile, nodding. “yeah.”
“if you’re too tired, we don’t have to-”
“you’re already inside me, yoongi.” you reason. “or if you can’t make me cum, just say that.”
he huffs out a soft laugh. despite his cold exterior, constant sarcasm and often indifference, he’s always been thoughtful with you. or at least, it felt like he cared in some way. no, you remind yourself, just friends.
his fingers slide around your back, unclasping the bra which lands on the floor with your other clothes. he utters a soft groan of approval, warm hands cupping your bare breasts, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. you suck in a breath and he hums, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock.
on his knees, yoongi presses down on your thighs as he watches you take all of him, you always do so well. he wants to tear you apart so badly, to hear you scream out his name while you come undone. but he promised not to. not that he cares, he does whatever he wants. but you’d get upset, and he hates when you get upset (at him especially).
sometimes though, he likes to test that boundary just to see that adorable scowl. while your eyes are closed, focused on the way his dick slips in and out of you, yoongi brings his palm lower down your thigh, till he’s within reach of your core, and rubs his thumb against your clit. he watches you scramble to press a palm to your mouth, lifting your head to shoot him a warning look. grinning, he utters a soft apology before wrapping your legs around him and propping himself on top of you, kissing that frown away.
hands run up his arms, wanting to wrap around his neck and bring him closer like you always do. but it feels too intimate now, which is a weird thing to say while he’s fucking you. instead, you brush his hair back, and even that feels a little too much, so you awkwardly pull your hands away.
yoongi notices, grabbing your hands himself and pinning them above your head. he drops his body against yours, hips gaining traction as he watches the way you slowly lose yourself to the feeling. he presses his forehead against yours. too initmate.
he shifts, to press his lips against yours, but just before your lips touch, you turn to the side and he lands on your cheek instead. you play it off like it was unintentional. but his grip around your wrist tightens, and before you can open your eyes to look at him, his free hand is already gripping your jaw, turning your face towards him.
his eyes pierces yours, daring you to look away again. and this time he crashes lips to yours, hungrily devouring you.
his thrusts get quicker as you feel the tension reaching its limit. his hand snakes down your body, till his thumb finds its place over your clit again. he swallows your moans, feeling your thighs clamp down on him, muscles tensing around him.
“fuck-” he hisses, feeling himself reaching his own high with the pure ecstasy on your face. “that good, princess?”
you fight a cry, hands fighting to break free but he doesn’t let up. this is exactly how he likes you, writhing in pleasure under him.
“hm? are you gonna cum?” his own voice strangled, fighting the urge to let go. you nod, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. “yeah? cum for me.”
a tiny moan manages to escape just as you reach your high, convulsing under his weight. yoongi curses at the sight of you, feeling your warm release around his cock, and the walls of your cunt convulsing around him, the movement enough to make him cum just seconds later, bursting his load inside of you, now mixed with your own.
it takes a while to regain your senses, the low buzz around your head eventually fades away to the feel of his weight on top of you and his soft breathing next to your face. you stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him. he stirs a moment later, leaning in for a kiss which you don’t move away from this time.
when it’s time to leave just a little after 4am, you sit on the arm of your couch, wrapped in a robe, watching him put on his fancy shows. he always dresses so proper. something you always tease him about, but not tonight. he glances up at you. “you gonna tell me what’s wrong or is this one of those things i have to figure out myself?” he asks, pushing himself up.
you shrug, walking over to him. “nothing’s wrong.”
he narrows his eyes. “if you’re worried about your neighbours i can always-”
“it’s not about them.” you huff, dancing on your toes, eyes stuck to his chest which is at eye level, wondering if you should say it. “it’s about-”
but how do you say it? that you think you might just have a fat crush on him? that you want to be more than friends? that you want this to be more than sex? that more than whatever this is, you want to hold his hand more, go on dates, spend hours talking on the phone about your day-
he lifts your chin up with a finger. “tell me.” his eyes sparkle while he waits, shifting between yours. you fight the urge to run your hand through his hair, pull him into a hug and tell him to stay the night. instead you smile, shaking your head gently. “it’s nothing.”
“sure?” he doesn’t seem to buy it, heaving out a sigh as he tries to read you. “fine.”
he steps out the door, but turns just before walking off and you stumble back. his hand catches you around your waist, and his smirk returns, pressing you against him. “not saying i don’t appreciate the thought or the aesthetics, but…i’d skip underwear entirely next time.”
“goodbye yoongi.” you hiss, feeling heat creep up your face.
shoving him lightly off of you, he resists, and instead leans in for a gentle and unnecessarily sweet kiss which you sigh into, melting against him. he smiles.
when yoongi's your brother's best friend. but the lines between you have blurred once, so why not once, or twice more?
1.7k words. masterlist.
his heart drops to his stomach, hand reflexively going for the gun on his holster.
at the meeting of your eyes, he relaxes, heaving out a slow breath. perched on his desk, ankles crossed together, leaning back on your hands, you wink.
with a last glance down the hallway, he locks the door to his office, “what are you doing here?”
“waiting for you.” the corners of your lips are upturned in the mischievous way that landed him in this situation in the first place. the distance between you was starting to get annoying, especially as he stands there with his hands in his pockets like he’s not allowed to be within five feet of you.
beckoning him with your finger, yoongi’s jaw tightens.
he comes over anyway, eyes slowly travelling down your neck, collarbone, the fitted dress which stops mid-thigh, exposing the length of your legs. your raised brow challenges him. his hands ball up into fists in his pockets.
fine, you were never afraid to make the first move anyways.
you reach out for his tie. stubborn as he is, he makes no effort to resist when you tug him closer. you lean forward, faces now only an inch away, glossy lips taunting him to press his against yours. he considers it, then turns away. “we can’t do this.”
“why not?” you keep your hold on him, forcing him in place. “we did it before.”
“yeah and that was a mistake-”
you swallow his words as you press your lips against his, smiling when he reciprocates slow, gentle, and restraint. a sigh, and you force yourself to pull away. “was it?”
a moment of weakness. he’d downed a couple of drinks that night at the club, not enough to say he was drunk but tipsy enough for him to brush off the fear of any consequence he’d have to deal with. you were there, dancing, flirting.
you caught him at just the right time when he was ready to cross that unspoken boundary, succumbing to your advances.
his breath is hot on your skin, eyes glued to your lips like he’s about to dive in for more. “he’ll kill me.”
going behind his boss (and best friend’s) back and sleeping with his sister is not only taboo, but a death wish. yet, you’re giggling, finding this little secret exhilarating. legs uncrossed, you hook them around him and scoot closer, bringing your bodies together. he lets out a strangled breath.
“i won’t let him do that.” you say simply, running your hands over his shirt, loosening his tie.
he grabs hold of your wrists, slamming them down on the table by your sides so harshly it makes you gasp. but it causes the opposite effect of what he intended, arousing you instead of intimidating. though, he knows you like it rough.
“come on yoongi,” you whisper against his lips, “you know you want me.”
yeah, he does. his hands shift to your thighs, fingers sinking into them like his last attempt at stopping himself.
you lean back against his table, shoving a handful of the items on his desk to the side. his hands follow the curve of your body, past your chest, to your neck, where he grabs a hold of you and pulls you back up for a heated kiss.
“we have men stationed right down the corridor.” yoongi mutters, more to himself, as you undo his belt. then he’s lifting you off the desk, across the office to the couch where he bends you over, pushing your head down on the cushion, and whispering against your ear. “you better be quiet sweetheart. wouldn’t want anyone to know i’m fucking the boss’ sister.”
it’s something you haven’t mastered yet, proving it difficult when he pushes your dress up, and lands a smack on your ass. you yelp into the couch, gripping tight to the cushion beneath.
you swallow your own moan when you feel him rub against you.
when he’s not moving fast enough, you shimmy your hips against him, earning you another smack, one on each side. “this is just turning you on even more,” he comments, voice low.
your giggling only confirms it, and he puts an end to it, savouring the muffled cries as he slips inside of you without warning, filling you to the brim. his grip keeps you up when your hips wobble, slowly pulling out and thrusting back in.
“fuck-” you choke, “you need to go faster.”
with another thrust, he throws himself onto your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging it back to lift your head, forcing you onto your palms. his breath is hot against your ear. “i don’t need to do anything. but you, you need to shut the fuck up before someone hears you.”
your insides burn with desire that only yoongi has ever satisfied. “maybe i want them to hear me,” you roll your ass up, “want them to know that- oh-”
he kisses the side of your face. “you just can’t shut up, can you?”
“i can. don’t want to.”
“if you’re not gonna stay quiet-”
you chew on your bottom lip. “you weren’t complaining the last time.”
the loss is something you feel immediately. he pulls out entirely and watches you squirm from above, a fistful of your hair still in his grip. “i guess we’re not doing this then.”
“no,” you whine, almost at a whisper, breath hitching when he rubs his length between your ass. “please.”
“i don’t know…” he mutters, pressing his lips against your shoulder. “doesn’t seem like you want this.”
“i do.” you tilt your head towards him, putting on your best pout.
“then can you be quiet for me?” you nod, feeling his tip align with your entrance. “let’s try this again, yeah? all you gotta do is keep that pretty mouth shut.”
it takes everything in you not to squeal when he slides back inside, filling you to the brim. he watches you carefully, loosening his grip on your hair to angle himself just right.
your arms start to tremble, itching to shove your hips back but afraid he might change his mind again. an arm supports your middle as he finds his spot right by your shoulder once more, “good girl.”
his praise has you clenching.
“now hold on tight baby.”
—
yoongi tries not to overthink it, sitting across hoseok as the man carefully inspects the pills handed to him. his gun rests on the table, coincidentally pointed in yoongi’s direction. “these look legit.”
“the new chemist’s experienced,” one of their men says, “this means we can move these around in fake pill bottles and no one will know the difference.”
“good.” hoseok nods, then waves him off. “just make sure he’s no snitch like the last one. shame we had to waste him.”
yoongi swallows, knowing it’s the same gun staring at him that had fired the bullet which went through that poor guy’s head.
“hey.” hoseok nods towards his friend just as the door shuts and the two of them are left in the room, “you’re quiet tonight. all good?”
yoongi shrugs, “yup. everything’s good.”
“great.” hoseok doesn’t pry, not that he even notices the sweat forming on yoongi’s forehead. “i’m gonna need you to hold the fort for the next week.”
“yeah sorry,” hoseok gets up, fixing his jacket, “my contact in the US got hold of some real good products. she’s flying me over to get some samples and i'll see if we can bring them in.”
yoongi scoffs, sporting a knowing smirk, “she's flying you in for samples huh?”
“hey, it's strictly business.” hoseok points at him, then breaks into a smile, winking.
“sure buddy.”
“don't hate, isn’t this why you made me number one? cause i'm a people person. i get out there and find us good supplies.” hoseok shrugs, “and you get to be on the ground here-”
just as yoongi lets his guard down, hoseok makes a grab for his gun, filling up the mag and wiping it down.
“by the way,” hoseok starts, carefully inspecting the weapon, “you know where my sister’s place is, don’t you?”
yoongi's voice gets caught for a moment, taken aback by the sudden mention of you. he eyes the gun. “uhh…”
hoseok sighs. “oh you know, it's that fancy complex in the middle of gangnam. the one with the great view of the river?”
of course he fucking knows, he was there just last night. for round two after he sent you home.
“it's annoying, but the car i bought her is getting delivered tomorrow morning. but the keys are with me. and she’s been pestering me about it. i'm supposed to drop it off but…”
yoongi heaves out a silent sigh of relief. “you have a flight to catch.”
“do you mind?” he fishes it out of his pocket, dangling the yellow keychain filled with charms out to yoongi. “i told her i’d hand it over when i'm back but well, you know y/n.”
“yeah.” he does. because why would you stick to your perfectly good year old car when your brother just got you the latest sports car?
he lets the key fall into his palm.
“thanks yoongi.” hoseok walks out with him. “i'll text her. i'd send one of the men but, you know i don't trust just anyone with her.”
“of course.” yoongi gulps down the thick air. apparently he can’t trust his own best friend either.
hoseok's car waits out front for him, bodyguard holding the door open.
“enjoy those samples.” yoongi calls out, waving as he watches hoseok leave.
—
the bell rings through your apartment and your new keychain jingles as yoongi throws them in the air and catches them while he waits. it doesn't take long till the door beeps and clicks open.
“hey,” he calls out at the first sight of movement, “your b…”
the words disappear from his tongue and his brain as you appear from behind the door.
