The Ten Days Of Ex-Mas (M)

The Ten Days of Ex-Mas (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre:  Holiday / Second Chance!AU / Hockey!AU

Author’s Note: Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @yoonia, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora! Unfortunately, due to the new Tumblr text post limitation, this has to be published as two parts. Please, please interact with both! Thank you!!

Pairing: Jimin / Reader (F)

Synopsis: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Word Count: 44,416 (25K in part 1)

Rating: 18+

NSFW Warnings: oral (F), multiple orgasms (F), fingering, sex in a semi-public area (brief), breast play, spanking, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, mention of toys

A/N: all collab fics incorporate the phrase, "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

You should have known better than to trust Namjoon with your dating life.

Yoongi never would have put you in this situation. The more level-headed of your two best friends, Yoongi approaches matters of the heart with the same rationality he does everything else. Namjoon, on the other hand, is a great guy – who is notoriously bad at reading other people.

The number of times you’ve been forced to step in and save him from phone scams is astounding. It’s not his fault, really – Namjoon trusts too easily, which doesn’t serve him well in this world. He’s always willing to give others the benefits of the doubt, often getting himself into trouble. 

And now you, by extension, having accepted the blind date he proposed.

Mike Davis moved into Namjoon’s building two months ago, and Namjoon has been adamant since the start that you two would hit it off.

“He goes to all the same conventions you do,” he assured you last week on the phone.

“Which conventions?” you asked, squinting hard at the wall. “I know you’re not big into nerd culture, Namjoon, so as an FYI – not all cons are considered equal.”

Namjoon rattled off a few you’d attended, impressing you enough to agree despite the initial disinterest. This agreement may have been spurred by tonight being the three-month anniversary of the worst break-up of your life.

Almost as soon as you sat down though, you realized your mistake. While you may have reached a point where you don’t cry every time your ex’s name is mentioned, the prospect of dating someone else is an entirely different matter. Getting dressed up tonight felt strange, as did traveling to the restaurant and waiting for Mike at the bar.

The fact that Mike called this a ‘restaurant’ should have been your first warning sign, as Hat Trick is most definitely a sports bar – specifically, a hockey bar. Had you known (really, you should have known), you wouldn’t have gone, but you were nervous and trying to make a good impression. Upon arriving, you arranged yourself awkwardly on a sticky bar stool and waited seven minutes for Mike to walk in.

Nearly an hour later, you find yourself regretting coming at all. Mike excused himself two minutes ago for the bathroom and as soon as he left, you sagged with relief.

He’s a nice guy, you suppose. Good looking, with light brown curls and dark eyes. You can see why Namjoon thought he might be good for you – Mike is the exact opposite of your ex in many ways. Constantly frazzled, he arrived at the bar late, only to immediately duck out because he forgot to pay the parking meter. Jimin was the type who unpacked his suitcase immediately after reaching the hotel and brought several chargers in case one of them died.

Once the meter was paid, Mike sat down and launched into his entire life story. You suppose you should have been happy, since lack of communication ended your last relationship but instead, found yourself overwhelmed. 

Mike finally paused for breath once your drinks arrived, allowing you a moment to answer his questions. The moment you mentioned running a popular cosplay TikTok channel, Mike instantly shifted from arrogant to insecure. 

“I can’t believe you came,” he exhaled with a shake of his head. “When Namjoon showed me your picture, I said no way you’d go out with me. You’re way too beautiful.”

Shifting your weight, you managed to laugh. “Don’t try and get me to leave, now, Mike.”

His eyes widened, not catching your sarcasm and it took several moments to get back on track. Everything since then has been downhill, so when he excused himself for the bathroom, all you felt was relief.

Digging through your purse, you pull out your phone and swipe to the group chat.

Y/N: Namjoon, WHAT possessed you to set me up with this man [7:46 PM]

Yoongi’s reply comes immediately.

Yoongi: told you it was too soon [7:46 PM]

Namjoon’s ellipses join in.

Namjoon: what! Why? What happened?? Mike didn’t try something on you, did he? [7:47 PM]

Y/N: no, no – nothing like that [7:47 PM]

Y/N: he just keeps saying how *amazing* I am and how he doesn’t know why I’m on this date at all [7:47 PM]

Yoongi: dude [7:48 PM]

Y/N: EXACTLY [7:48 PM]

Before Namjoon can respond, the bartender changes the channel and an all-too-familiar name blares over the speakers. Slowly, you look up, and all thoughts of Mike fade in the face of NHL coverage.

Nope, no – absolutely not.

Leaning over the counter, you tap the bartender. “Hi.” Brightly, you smile. “First off, could I have another glass of white wine? And then, maybe… could you change the channel?”

Glancing around, the guy shakes his head. “Yes, to the wine, but no, the channel,” he says with a shrug. “Half the people in here came to watch the game. Pre-show coverage is part of that.”

With an apologetic nod, he grabs a rag and disappears. Sinking back in your seat, you stare at your hands, clasped tightly on the counter. Your seat at the bar puts you in the unfortunate position of hearing each word crystal-clear.

“Well, Josh – what chance do you think the Blackhawks have tonight?”

The silver-haired announcer bobs his head. “Steve, I’d say their chances are pretty darn good. You’ve seen this team’s early games. Their first line is strong, especially now that Park’s back.”

“Oh, absolutely – Jimin Park has been crucial to the last couple of games. He was sorely missed last season.”

“Ha! You can say that again.”

Trying to hide a wince, you clasp your hands tighter as a fresh glass of wine is set down. “Thanks,” you mutter, downing half in one gulp.

Immediately, your plans for later tonight shift to accommodate a bottle of wine. Movement catches your eye and, lacking self-preservation, you look up in time for a montage of star right winger, Jimin Park, tearing his way down the ice. Shamefully, you recognize every shot because, although you broke up in September, you continued to watch every game.

“One of the most talked about moments last year in hockey was the late check on Park by Blues player, Brent Howard,” continues the announcer, Josh. “Park’s helmet came loose when he hit the boards, and he went down hard on the ice resulting in a sprained knee and herniated a disc in his neck. A complicated surgery took him out for the remainder of the season. He only started to skate with the team again during off season conditioning.”

Hearing Jimin’s trauma recounted with such callousness, you find yourself gripping your wine glass tighter than ever.

“I don’t think anyone expected Park to play again,” agrees the other announcer, Steve. “It’s a damned miracle he’s back on the ice – but to return and be this good? Park has always been one of the best right wingers in the league, but I’d say he’s the best offensive player on the ice right now.”

“A bold claim!” laughs Josh. “But I might just agree. Even Jungkook Jeon on the Kraken hasn’t been matching Park in assists.”

“Exactly! I mean, look at the numbers. Last year, the Blackhawks barely made the playoffs and now, they’re leading the Central Division.”

“Truly amazing, given the nature of his injury last November. I don’t know how familiar you are with herniated discs, Steve, but –”

Mike slides back onto his stool. Grateful for the distraction, you turn fully to face him. Having already lived through the injury once, you have no need to reminisce. Replacing your phone in your purse, you smile gamely at Mike.

“So,” you say, attempting to save the conversation. “Namjoon mentioned you go to conventions? What fandoms are you a part of?”

“Oh.” Mike loosely shrugs. “I doubt you’ve heard of any of them.”

At his dismissive tone, you stiffen. Your experience with the male side of fandom is always a toss-up. “Well, there are a lot of them. Any more mainstream?”

He considers. “Marvel?”

Stunned, you blink a few times. Marvel must be one of the biggest fandoms on the planet, let alone in the country. Even if you weren’t deep in the convention circuit, you’d have heard of Marvel.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I think I’ve heard of that.”

“Cool, cool.” Mike nods. “Namjoon said you do cosplay – and showed me your TikTok! You know, you’d make a great Wonder Woman.”

You can practically feel your jaw tighten. “That’s DC, not Marvel. But thanks.”

Silently, you add for nothing. While you love Wonder Woman and have, in fact, cosplayed her many times, men usually only request her for one reason and it’s the skimpy outfit. Whenever you cosplay as circa 2010 Wonder Woman in pants, they’re decidedly less interested. By now, you’ve learned only to pick your characters based on personal interest.

“Have you ever cosplayed?” you query.

Unbidden, your gaze slides to the TV. Commercial break. Stifling the twinge of disappointment, you refocus on Mike.

“Nah.” His nose wrinkles, and your stomach sinks further. “I don’t do that stuff.”

“Stuff?”

Hearing your tone, his eyes widen. “I mean, it’s cool for you. I saw your TikToks and you look amazing. I’d just look dumb,” Mike says, attempting a laugh.

Sugary sweet, you smile. “I don’t know. My ex used to cosplay with me, and no one ever laughed at him.”

Admittedly, this is something of a low blow since your ex-boyfriend is Jimin Park, but either Namjoon didn’t tell him who your ex is, or Mike doesn’t care. Which – if that’s the case, maybe Mike deserves more credit than you gave him. 

“Ah.” He nods, taking a sip of his beer. “Have you ever thought about cosplaying as Wonder Woman, though?”

Your smile vanishes. Then again, maybe you’ve given him exactly the right amount of credit.

“I have,” you allow. “But more recently, I’ve been cosplaying Dimension 20 characters. It’s kind of niche, but my last character was Sundry Sidney from A Starstruck Odyssey. You know – giant machine gun arm, roller skates and a mechanical eye. Oh, and a ‘fuck erotica Ann’ button, of course.”

Mike’s smile freezes. “Why… would you dress like that?”

“Because it’s fun.” Finishing your glass of wine, you toss a few bills on the counter. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Mike, but I think we’d be better off as friends. Don’t you agree?”

Even with the answer right there in the question, still he looks flummoxed.

“I…” 

“Or acquaintances,” you add, standing to pull on your pea coat. “Or nothing at all. Whatever you prefer.”

Slinging your purse on your shoulder, you wave at the bartender and start to leave. You only make it several steps before Mike mutters something beneath his breath – loud enough that you hear.

“Stupid,” he mutters. “This is why you don’t date women like her, Mike.”

You come to a stop. Really, you should keep going. Common sense – and Namjoon’s HOA – depend on you being the bigger person and walking out. But your therapist has said you need to work on communicating, even when the message is something the other person won’t like.

Turning around, you tap Mike on the shoulder.

He glances upward, surprised – and then reddens, realizing you heard.

“Yep, I heard,” you say shortly, retracting your hand. “Was the muttering supposed to be secret?”

Mike opens, then closes his mouth, like a fish.

“What did you mean, ‘women like me?’” you inquire, folding your arms. “Ones with self-respect? Or hobbies? Women who know more about a subject than you do?”

Behind the counter, the bartender snort-laughs, rising in your esteem despite the whole TV channel thing. 

Mike stares at you, stunned. He seems to grow a pair in that moment though, straightening to face you. “Women with sticks up their asses,” he blurts.

Stifling an eye roll, you lean closer. “Listen, Mike,” you say, placing one hand on the counter. “If you think you can hurt my feelings – think again. Someone broke my heart three months ago, so nothing you say now will remotely compare. Do you really want to know why women like me won’t date you?”

The furrow between his brows deepens, and you take this as a sign to continue. Leaning even closer, you lower your voice.

“It’s because you’re insecure,” you say softly. “Giving someone a compliment and putting yourself down in the same sentence isn’t nice, it’s awkward. Not to mention, you’re sexist,” you add, watching him stiffen. “Telling me – a two-time Comic Con trivia champion – that I wouldn’t know Marvel is wild. Oh, and you’re a snob. Tabletop games are awesome, and cosplay is fun. Have a good night – I paid for your drink.”

With that, you turn around and march out the door to a smattering of applause from your new favorite bartender. 

The moment you step outside, you’re hit by a cold gust of wind. Objectively, you should have called an Uber before your dramatic exit. Pulling free your phone, you find several missed texts from the group chat.

Ignoring them, you order an Uber and stand under the heat lamp. Scrolling to your recent calls, you punch in Namjoon’s number.

“You’re so dead,” you declare once he answers.

Namjoon sputters loudly. “What – why? Is this because of the self-deprecating comments? Because I have to say, your sister does that all the time.”

“Yeah, and it’s annoying,” you say as your Uber arrives. “Why do you think I chose not to visit for Christmas?”

“Uh, because she’s obsessed with Jesus.”

“Well, that, too,” you sigh, sinking into the seat. “But the self-deprecating comments weren’t the only thing wrong. The entire date was uncomfortable. I don’t know how you thought we’d be good together.”

“Mike seemed fine!”

“Okay, first off – fine? You set me up with fine?” you repeat, imitating his tone. “And second, when I said I cosplayed, his first question was whether I’d ever cosplayed as Wonder Woman.”

“… maybe he’s a fan?”

“He thought she was Marvel.”

Namjoon exhales. “Damn. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really thought he’d be good for you.”

Something in your chest softens. “I know,” you say, glancing out the window. “Which is why I’m not really mad at you. One can’t be mad at the truly pathetic.”

“Hey!”

“Namjoon, he said I had a stick up my ass.”

“He said what?! Hang on, let me patch Yoongi in.”

“It’s fine, Namjoon,” you laugh, attempting to stave off any actual crimes. “Really. I learned two very important things tonight.”

“Oh?” He sounds skeptical. “What things are those?”

“Well, number one – I’m not ready to date.”

Reluctant, Namjoon sighs. “Yoongi was right.”

“Yoongi was right,” you agree.

Staring out the window, you soak in your reality. Even if Mike had been a nice guy, you still would have been counting down the minutes until leaving. Your ex-boyfriend blaring on the TV certainly helps, but even on a different channel, you would have been distracted. Still would have been comparing everything Mike did to him.

You’ve been seeing the same therapist since college, Dr. Lisa Germain. Mostly on and off, but especially during periods of turmoil in your life. Right now, you typically talk once a month although this greatly increased the month following your break-up. Dr. Lisa probably would have cautioned you about moving on so fast – or possibly she would have questioned why three months is too fast.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Namjoon says, dragging your thoughts back to the present. “That sucks. What was lesson number two?”

“Number two,” you say, as the Uber pulls to a stop outside your building. “Is I’m never letting you set me up on a blind date again.”

Namjoon protests, but you put the phone on mute. Exiting the Uber, you enter the liquor store below your new apartment. New being relative since you’ve lived here for three months. When you and Jimin ended, you decided he’d keep the apartment and you’d be the one to move out. Partly, the decision was made due to self-preservation.

The moment you left you knew you couldn’t move on surrounded by memories. This may have been for naught though, since you can’t seem to move on without the memories, either.

“Hang on, Joon,” you say, pushing open the door. “I need to grab something from the store.”

Slipping the phone in your pocket, you grab your favorite wine and head for check-out. The owner’s daughter, Sarah, looks up from the register.

“Y/N, hi!” she gushes, setting down her magazine. “How’s your night going?”

You give her a giant thumbs-down. “Awful. Just came back from a date.”

“Woof.” Ringing you up, Sarah shakes her head. “At least you’re trying, I guess? You couldn’t pay me to go on a date with a man.”

Your lips twitch, accepting the bag she hands you. “In this hypothetical scenario, are you also straight?”

“God, no.”

Laughing, you turn and head for the door. “Noted. Anyways, I’m off to drink myself into oblivion and hopefully wake up after the holidays.”

“Fingers crossed!” she yells as you exit the shop.

Shivering, you jog the remaining steps to your side door. Per usual, climbing the narrow steps steals your breath, and it takes you a moment to pull out your key.

“Did you hear all that?” you say, taking Namjoon off mute as you enter.

He makes a disgruntled sound. “I hate when you do that.”

“You love me,” you counter, putting the phone on speaker. Shrugging free of your coat, you kick off your shoes.

Inside your kitchen, you open the fridge to survey your Britta, a carton of eggs and half a block of cheese. Shutting the door, you glance at your equally dismal counters.

“Should I actually decorate my apartment?”

“Yes,” says Namjoon, and you decide to ignore him. “Are you inside?”

“Yep!” you yell, standing on tiptoe to grab a wine glass.

“Okay, then I’m going to hang up and get back to the game.”

Heart dropping towards your stomach, you turn. “Great,” you say. “I’ll just be here, trying to forget that Christmas is in ten days, and I have zero plans apart from sitting alone in my barely furnished apartment, watching bad movies, and trying not to cry the entire time.”

“I will repeat – your sister invited you over.”

“Yes, and I’ll repeat.” Making a face, you uncork the bottle. “I’d rather not sit through two very long, confusing ceremonies about the birth of a Lord I don’t believe in. Besides – even if I wanted to go, flight prices are crazy. I need to save up to buy a kitchen table.”

“What about your parents?”

Pouring yourself a large glass of wine, you shake your head. “Nope. They decided to go on another cruise this year. I swear, if having fun in retirement is a contest, they’re winning.”

Namjoon laughs. “Well, you can always come home with me. My mom would probably ask whether we’re dating again, though.”

Grin widening, you carry your wine into the living room. Plopping onto the second-hand sofa you bought from Yoongi, you flick through the channels until finding The Holiday.

“Tell her what I always say – that I’m too good for you,” you sniff. “And also, you’re in love with your neighbor.”

“Y/N!” You can practically see Namjoon’s panicked look at his door. “Not so loud! I had you on speaker.”

Rolling your eyes, you tug your blanket up. “Oh, please. She so obviously likes you – she’s just waiting for you to make the first move.”

“BYE, Y/N!” In the background, you hear Namjoon turn on his TV. “TALK TO YOU LATER!”

“Bye!”

“Don’t drink too much!”

“Byeee!”

Hanging up, you settle back on your pillows as Jude Law comes on screen. Seeing how easily Cameron Diaz’s character makes him laugh, you feel a lonely twang. Personally, you enjoy the latter phase of romance as much as the start. Comfortable silence, knowing glances, and thoughtful requests that come from knowing someone so well.

“Enjoy it now,” you mutter at the screen, drinking deeply. “It won’t last.”

Slumping lower, you draw your knees in. A deep sense of sadness washes over you, coaxing you closer to the fetal position. Running a finger over your blanket, you stare at the screen.

One of the things people don’t say about break-ups is how long they take. For a week, the pain nauseates, a knife to your stomach each time you draw breath. It’s there when you wake in the middle of the night, rolling over to reach for someone not there. Everything makes you think of them. Or worse, you forget them, only to remember a second later and be hit with a fresh wave of pain.

After the first week, the pain doesn’t fade. You just learn to live with it, allowing it to become an ever-present companion. Last week, when Namjoon set up the blind date, you thought you could do this, only for the pain to hit, as debilitating as ever. After three months, it feels different – no longer tinged with disbelief, but full of raw realization that this is your future. Strange men and strange bars while Jimin moves on.

Instead of improving, your life feels like survival. And always, it’s shadowed by an undercurrent of pain, waiting for the moment to drag you under. Like tonight, with your horrible date, a bottle of wine and The Holiday.

Unable to stem your regret, you pour yourself a second glass and add another blanket. If tonight is about feelings, you might as well feed them fully. Prepare for the eventuality of being alone.

After all, it isn’t like Jimin has reached out to you, either.

Buzzzzz. Buzzzzz. Buzzzzz. Buzzzzz.

Groggily, you roll over and open one eye. The TV is still on, the volume down low, light flickering across your wooden floor. The Holiday ended long ago, and now the channel plays reruns of a sitcom you hate.

The buzzing stops, and then starts, and you realize it’s your phone. Still groggy, you attempt to roll over – tangling partway and nearly falling to the floor. Yelping out loud, you grab the coffee table, inadvertently bringing yourself into contact with your phone.

Grasping it, you press answer. “Hullo?” you rasp.

“Y/N?”

Both your eyes open.

Heart hammering, you slowly sit up with one hand on the blanket. Feeling at once hot and cold, you shake your head slowly to clear away sleep. There’s no way the person you think is calling actually is.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

Fingers trembling, you tap your screen once to see Jimin’s name light up. For some reason, you never had the strength to delete it from your numbers.

It is him. Jimin is calling, and this isn’t a dream. Or if it is, it’s a particularly good one and honestly, you aren’t sure you want to wake up.

Returning the phone to your ear, you grab the remote to turn down the volume. Clearing your throat, you feel the beginnings of a headache pounding at your temples. Most likely courtesy of your empty wine bottle before you.

“Jimin?”

Softly, he exhales. “Hey. Yeah… it’s me.”

A thick silence falls, and you glance out the window. Orange-yellow streetlight illuminates freshly fallen snow. The last time you spoke to Jimin was… well, it’s been a while. After you broke up, you had to talk a few times to arrange the movers, but once the last box had cleared, it was radio silence.

I’m probably dreaming, you determine.

“Uh, no.” Jimin clears his throat, and you realize with horror you said that out loud. “It’s really me.”

“…ah.”

Weakly, he chuckles. “Hopefully it isn’t that bad to hear from me?” When you choose not to respond, Jimin exhales. “I mean, it’s not terrible for me to hear you.”

Exhaling softly, you squeeze your eyes shut. “Jimin… what do you want?”

Of course, it’s not terrible hearing from him. It’s the exact opposite, which is why this is bad. You worked hard to reach a point where you can sleep without him (sleeping well is another matter). Hearing Jimin’s voice, you’re terrified of slipping right back to needing him. If you ever even stopped, that is.

“Who says I want something?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Casting your gaze down, you pick at your blanket. “You’re the one calling me in the middle of the night, so… just tell me what you want, Jimin, so I can go back to bed.”

Something in his voice shifts. “Why, do you have someone waiting?”

Your hand stills. “Jimin, that is so not your business. We’re not together anymore – remember?”

“Oh, I remember.”

“Great,” you huff. “Then, say this is a butt dial, so I can hang up and pretend this never happened.”

Jimin is quiet for so long, you’re forced to pull back and double-check he hasn’t hung up. He hasn’t, so you can only presume he has something important to say. Brow furrowing, you return the phone to your ear.

Some of your initial irritation vanishes, replaced by worry. “Jimin,” you say, pushing yourself upright. “Is everything alright?”

“I…”

Almost without thinking, you find yourself on your feet. Of course, you should have assumed something bad happened. There’s no other reason for Jimin to call. Attempting to disentangle from your many blankets, you only make it worse and bang your shin on the table.

“Fuck!” you blurt, clutching your knee. “Fucking shit, that hurt!”

Jimin chuckles lowly, and you freeze. It’s been so long since hearing his laugh, you hadn’t realized the hole the sound fills in your chest.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks.

“No,” you mutter, straightening when you remember your reason for haste. Shoving the blanket aside, you head for the door. “Are you okay? I’m still kind of tipsy, but I can call a cab and come over. Is it your neck?” you demand, grabbing your keys. “Did something happen to you during the game tonight?”

Mentally, you curse yourself for not watching. When you got home, you made a point of not turning on that channel. Every other game this season you’ve watched except this one, and of course, this is the one where Jimin gets hurt, and –

“Whoa, whoa,” he blurts. “Y/N, wait! I’m okay. I’m not injured.”

Immediately, you sag in relief – only to freeze, realizing how desperate you sounded. You broke up in September. Jimin let you leave and hasn’t contacted you since. This is your first conversation since then and here you are, pretending to have some sort of claim on his personal well-being.

Dropping your keys, you sink onto the couch. “Right. Okay, right.”

“Sorry… for making you think that I was.”

Rubbing your forehead, you glance out the window. “Just… say why you’re calling so I can go back to sleep.”

“Right.” Jimin pauses. “So, here’s the thing. Remember how my contract expired at the end of last season? And the team only agreed to a new one-year contract because of my injury?”

“Yes, Jimin. We broke up three months ago, not three years.”

“Anyways,” he says, breezing past your snark, “discussions are ongoing to extend my contract.”

“Okay…”

“You probably haven’t been watching” – when he says this, you shift uncomfortably – “but the season is going well. The team… well, they want to extend my contract three years.”

Frowning slightly, you pick at the blanket. “Cool. Congratulations.”

Truthfully, all you can think about is why he decided to call and tell you this. Surely, there must be someone else in Jimin’s life to share things with by now. This thought pierces a shattered piece of your heart, but you push past it.

“Yeah,” Jimin says. “Well, the thing is… I’m heading home for Christmas next weekend. Before I sign an extension, I need to tell my parents.”

Despite yourself, you wince. “Ah.”

Ah is an understatement. When Jimin was injured last year, it ushered in a stressful period. He’d been hurt before on the team, but never like this. Always, the team’s doctors patched him up and shoved him back on the ice with minimal consequences. Like the sports commentators said, when Jimin was injured last year, his career faced uncertainty.

A herniated neck disc is bad under normal circumstances, but for someone whose livelihood is their body, it’s downright terrifying. After seeing a bevy of doctors, Jimin realized he needed surgery. Fairly invasive surgery, with at least a six-month window for recovery. Jimin was told he’d definitely be out for the season, and that possibly he’d skated for the last time.

Last year held a lot of uncertainty, moments when Jimin wavered between fear and positivity. Through everything, you tried to provide support, but this wasn’t the case with everyone in his life. His parents were supportive about the surgery but wanted Jimin to quit hockey. They’d always been wary of the profession, although they ultimately supported what Jimin wanted. Last year changed their perspective.

You witnessed his mom flat-out beg him to quit several times. Jimin had played in the NHL for six years already and was a Stanley Cup champion. They didn’t understand what else Jimin wanted, but in your opinion, Jimin didn’t need anything. He was a hockey player, plain and simple. Asking him to stop was unfathomable.

His parents backed off once Jimin’s contract was extended for only a year. Jimin promised he’d reconsider whether to continue this fall.

“Shit,” you mutter.

“Exactly.” His tone is heavy. “Shit.”

You hesitate, drawing your blankets up to your chin. “I’m sorry, Jimin, but… I still don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“Right. So, here’s the thing. You see, I haven’t actually… I mean, it never really came up, so…”

Understanding slowly dawns. “Jimin,” you say. “What didn’t come up?”

His line muffles until he reappears, inhaling deeply. “Right, so. I… haven’t told my family that we broke up.”

Loud ringing fills your ears.

“You… what?”

“I was just so – busy, in the fall. We broke up right when the season started, and I was juggling practice and therapy, and then we ended and I just… I don’t know! I didn’t tell them. I kept putting it off, saying it’d be better to tell them in person, but now… I don’t know, Y/N,” he exhales. “I don’t have a good answer for you, I’m sorry.”

Gripping your phone, you stare at the ceiling. On the one hand, you don’t blame Jimin for putting off this conversation. Every phone call you had to explain the break-up was awful. Your sister cried and insisted on flying out, but her house was being renovated and you insisted she stay. Namjoon and Yoongi were somehow worse. Jimin hadn’t done anything, so they couldn’t bash him as a person, but they did insist he’d come to regret it. You weren’t so sure.

The fact that Jimin managed to avoid this makes you irrationally angry. Just like when you were dating, Jimin sidestepped the hard conversations.

“Okay, that sucks,” you say stiffly. “But I still don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Y/N.” Jimin exhales. “I’m going home next week without you. I’m going to have to say we broke up, whether I want to or not. I also am crushing their dreams and saying I plan to extend my contract. My family loves you,” he adds, voice breaking. “My dad tosses around future names for our kids. My mom keeps saying she booked the lodge for our wedding, and I really don’t know whether she’s kidding or not. How –”

“Jimin,” you rush, cutting him off. “Stop.”

He ceases talking immediately, and you focus on breathing. Every word has your heart in a vice grip, squeezing out any progress made before this call. This time last year, you thought his family would one day be yours. You wanted everything Jimin is saying, and it hurts, remembering he walked away from all that.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I know I have no right to ask this, but… Y/N, will you come?”

Your lips part. Jimin can’t possibly mean what you think he’s saying. And even if he does mean that, there’s no way you can accept. You’d never recover.

“I haveto tell them about the contract,” he says, sounding tired. “The team gave me a deadline of January, but I know they want an answer soon. Which means… Y/N, I can’t tell them we broke up. Not yet – not now,” he adds. “I promise to explain in the new year.”

“Jimin… I don’t think I can.”

You hesitate though, and you know Jimin hears. Honestly, from the moment the words left his lips, you can’t stop picturing it. The two of you broke up so fast, you never had the opportunity to grieve everything you left behind. Jimin’s family was a big part of that.

“I promise it won’t be weird,” Jimin says, and you huff. “Okay, well – I promise to make this as not weird as possible. I just… I’m sorry, Y/N. This was a stupid idea.”

Chewing your lower lip, you stare out your window. You shouldn’t entertain this but find that you are. The obvious answer is no. For your own sanity, and the progress you’ve made – but then again, what progress? Three months of therapy and distance, and still, you break into tears at the sight of an ice skate.

Trying to date again was a bust. You can’t possibly hurt less than you do now, and moreover, you genuinely care about Jimin’s family. The Parks always welcomed you in a way your own family never has.

Obviously, you love your parents. They’ve always been good to you but are frequently absent and your sister is kind, but vastly different from you and nearly a decade older. Christmas with your family is nice, comfortable but never chaotic. Never loud, never bustling and never as warm as Christmas with the Parks.

When you broke up, you lost not only Jimin, but the future you’d built together. It’s hard letting go of that overnight, and you wonder if a final trip would help you say goodbye. For months, you’ve responded to texts from Jimin’s mom and sister, Jisoo, with some confusion, and now you know why. They had no idea you and their son broke up.

“Please, Y/N,” Jimin says. “I know I don’t deserve you saying yes, but… I had to ask.”

This, more than anything, convinces you to accept. Towards the end of your relationship, you were practically begging to know what he wanted. Jimin always refused. He said he didn’t want to burden you with his problems, and instead, they grew in the space between you.

Hearing him ask for help stirs something deep down you thought were long buried.

“Fine,” you blurt. Jimin’s end of the call goes silent, forcing you to examine the phone again. “Hello?” you ask, returning it to your ear. “Jimin?”

“Yeah.” His voice trembles. “Sorry – I’m here. I just think I hallucinated because I thought you said yes.”

Although you roll your eyes, your lips twitch. “You heard right, Park. I’ll do it.”

“… are you sure?”

“Are you seriously trying to talk me out of this?”

“No, no!” Jimin blurts. “I’m sorry. I just – okay, cool.” He clears his throat once, then twice. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you mutter.

“I’m flying home next Thursday and staying until the day after Christmas. Does that work for you, or do you already have plans…?”

You shake your head. “I wasn’t planning on going home this year.”

Jimin pauses, and you can practically hear all his questions. Thankfully, he chooses to ask none. “Okay,” he continues. “So, do you want to fly together? I’ll get our tickets.”

Momentarily, you panic because you were just telling Namjoon you don’t have money for a last-minute trip to visit your sister. On the other hand, you really don’t want to owe Jimin anything.

“That’s not necessary,” you say quickly. “I can get my own flight.”

“Y/N.” His tone books no argument. “You’re the one doing me the favor. The least I can do is buy your plane ticket – please.”

“Well… okay,” you say, knowing you don’t have a choice. Dropping a huge amount of money on a last-minute flight isn’t in the budget.

“I can pick you up, and we can head to the airport together next Thursday?”

Frowning, you pick at a thread of your blanket. When you were dating, Jimin was your chauffeur. Not many people have cars in the city, but he does in case the team practices further out. You also hate to drive, something he seems to recall.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you admit. “I can have Yoongi drive me, or something.”

“Y/N…”

“No, it’s fine,” you say, sounding more confident than you feel. “Or I can take the train. Either way. You probably have practice that day anyways, right?”

“Yes, but –”

“Then it’s settled,” you declare. “We meet at the airport. Okay?”

Sensing this to be a hard line, Jimin exhales. “Alright. I’ll email you the plane ticket tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great.” He pauses. “And seriously, thank you. I promise I’ll make this as easy as possible. If you don’t want to see my family, that’s fine – we can say you have a big project, or something. That’s what I was planning to say, but my mom kept asking when you were coming and Jisoo was excited, and…”

“You just couldn’t tell them,” you finish. Honestly, you understand. It hurt nearly as much as breaking up, explaining over and over to people. “I don’t mind. I want to see your family.”

“Okay, well.” Jimin clears his throat. “I should probably get back to bed.”

“Probably. Talk to you later, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

There’s another long pause while you wait for him to hang up or say something else. Neither happens, and your heart thumps louder.

“Well, goodnight,” you prompt.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The depth in his voice prompts a shiver as you hang up. Staring at your TV, your stomach slowly sinks as the conversation washes over you.

Jimin called.

He called you for the first time since the breakup, spoke to you (mostly) without bitterness and asked you to come home for the holidays. Which you agreed to.

Groaning, you grab a throw pillow to bury your face in the cushion. With dread, you realize this means you'll be forced to discuss the reasons why you broke up. Maybe when you wake up, this will all be a dream. A stupid, wishful dream that Jimin called and needed you.

Or rather – he needed something from you, you remind yourself as you head to bed. Needing something from you is different than needing you. And yet, you find yourself wishing they were one and the same. One short conversation and you find yourself right back where you were in September.

If you learned anything tonight, it’s that you’re not ready to date again.

And that when Jimin calls, you continue to answer.

Jimin has never been good at saying the things that matter.

Other things, he’s good at. Jimin’s classmates voted him most likely to host a talk show in high school, and his team routinely shoves him into front of the press after games. Jimin easily converses with strangers or friends, mostly due to his talent of turning the conversation on others.

Regardless of whether they’ve been friends for weeks or years, Jimin is good at making people feel connected. Once the conversation ends though, the person might look back and realize they only talked about themselves. They’ll realize Jimin laughed, asked probing questions and avoided sharing anything personal.

This is something his therapist pointed out the week after you broke up with him. Actually – Dr. Nygard would take issue with that phrasing. You didn’t break up with Jimin. You brought up a difficult conversation and asked for a break, both of which Jimin didn’t want to hear.

Exhaling deeply, he tears his thoughts from the past. Shaking his head, Jimin stuffs his hands in his pockets to stare out the window. Perforated glass separates him from the curb, dulling the cacophony of outside honking. Holiday travel is in full swing, with Christmas Eve only four days away.

Shifting his weight backwards, Jimin idly hopes you bought a warmer coat. For two winters, he’s nudged you to purchase and for two winters, he’s been overruled. You promised to let him buy you a parka this Christmas, only for… well.

Jaw tight, Jimin glances over his shoulder. He should have insisted on driving you to the airport. He should have said a lot of things Saturday night that he didn’t; Jimin has replayed the conversation often since you two hung up. Opening with jealousy probably wasn’t the best. Pinning the entire idea on his family and not saying once how much he missed you, how badly he messed up – that was the biggest mistake of all.

Despite his assurances, Jimin knows this will likely end badly. Not for you, but for him.

Jimin isn’t an actor, and he can only pretend for so long not to be in love with you. Even with a best-case scenario, his family won’t suspect you’re broken up, but you won’t end up together. When you return after Christmas, Jimin will go to his apartment alone.

A familiar blue SUV stops at the curb, momentarily hidden behind a throng of people. The moment they clear, Jimin spots a cat meme bumper sticker plastered across the window. Definitely Yoongi. The passenger door cracks open, only to pause. Through tinted glass, Jimin makes out the shape of your head, but–

His entire body stiffens. Did you cut your hair?

A moment later, the door opens, and you step outside. Yoongi exits as well, heading for the trunk to pop it open. Reaching inside, he grasps your large suitcase to set on the curb. Patting him once, you immediately pull Yoongi in for a hug and Jimin’s thoughts sour.

Jimin knows Yoongi. Jimin likes Yoongi – he also likes Namjoon, your two closest friends. They’ve even hung out without you, but right now, Jimin feels nothing but jealousy. Yoongi looks put together in a navy pea coat, glancing at the airport with noticeable suspicion. His hair is longer, curled behind his ears and multiple women on the curb are staring.

On instinct, Jimin glances at his old parka. Warmer, yes, but not as enticing.

When you pull back from the hug, Jimin realizes his fists are clenched. Shaking his head, Yoongi glances at the airport and says something you seem to disagree with, based on your expression. Brows pinched, you respond and Yoongi exhales. He hugs you once more, then shuts the trunk and heads for the driver’s side.

Jimin doesn’t realize he’s staring until you start walking towards him. Whirling around, he takes a couple steps backwards to steady himself. He needs the perfect opening line. Something to break the ice, letting you know this isn’t weird – something that isn’t, hey, Y/N, I love you!

A hand taps his shoulder, and Jimin turns.

“Hi,” you blurt, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

You’re still wearing the same wool trench coat. This is the first thing Jimin notices, and then his brain stutters. Words flash through his mind – gorgeous, beautiful – until they refract with each other to form a single concept. You look the same and yet, different – Jimin can’t quite put a finger on it. Your hair is shorter, but that’s not causing the dissonance.

Something in his chest tightens. “Hey,” Jimin blurts, the blandest opening ever uttered. So much for all his planning. “Um, how was the traffic?”

You attempt a weak smile. “Hellish. What else?”

Jimin chuckles, the sound slipping past before he can stop it. Something unsteady flashes in your gaze, gone before he can dissect it.

“So, uh.” Jimin looks at the baggage counter. “Do you want to check your suitcase, or…?”

“Oh. Yeah,” you say, reaching for your bag.

Before you can grasp it, Jimin swoops in to grab the handle. Wheeling it easily, he pulls this in the direction of the ticket counter. He already checked himself in, but you’ll need to show your ID to the attendant for your ticket.

Quickening your stride, you glance sideways. “I could have done that.”

“I know.” Jimin flips the handle around. “But coach said to lift weights while I’m gone. I figure this counts.”

You snort, disguising it as a cough. “I won’t hear your judgment on this. What did you bring – a couple black t-shirts? One sweater? Meanwhile, Ihave an entire skin regimen, hair care ritual and different shoes for each outfit.”

“And how many outfits did you bring? You know we’re only there for four days.”

“Yes, but I need nicer clothes for the evening, and the Christmas Eve party – that’s happening, right?” you add, glancing sideways. “I assumed but wasn’t sure.”

“It is.” Jimin nods. “You could have texted, you know.”

Your face screams disagreement. “I guess.”

Wheeling your suitcase into an empty line, Jimin pretends he didn’t hear. You realize which line you’re in a second too late, stopping in your tracks halfway.

“Jimin,” you hiss, grabbing his sleeve. “This is for first class. The real line is over there.”

“I know,” he says and continues. “I bought us first class.”

Your jaw drops, hesitating another moment before rushing to catch up. The attendant at the counter greets you, taking your passport with a sincere smile. Jimin shifts his weight, subtly glancing over his shoulder. Several people in the main line have noticed their presence – one guy has even whipped out his phone.

Leaning an elbow on the counter, Jimin conceals you from view. “Charlotte,” he says lowly. “I know you’re going as fast as you can, but could you wrap things up in the next minute or so? We’re getting some attention.”

“Of course!” she chirps, wrapping a hand around your suitcase to place on the belt. Handing over your ticket, she beams. “First class TSA pre-check is through those doors. Have a wonderful holiday!”

Thanking her warmly, Jimin places a hand on your lower back and guides you away. Left with only your backpack and purse, you move a lot faster towards TSA.

Still, you huff as you stare at your ticket. “First class – really, Jimin?” you say, removing your purse. “And last minute? That must have cost a fortune!”

Entering the line, Jimin places his coat on the belt. “It was necessary,” he says. “We were only in that line for a minute, and someone was already filming.”

Startled, you glance around, but the person is out of view. Jimin faces forward, fishing his keys and wallet from pockets to place in a tray.

In the past, Jimin didn’t mind being recognized. Usually, this was accompanied by something fun, like ‘congratulations on the game’ or a request for an autograph. Occasionally people crossed a line but for the most part, recognition was good. After last year, recognition turned to cell phones shoved in his face. Angry words insisting he personally tanked the last year for the Blackhawks. Invasive questions about therapy, his return and whether he’d ever play hockey again.

Jimin started disliking the attention soon after. Placing his tray on the belt, he hears a loud gasp behind him.

“No way!” someone blurts. “Is that – oh my god, are you Jimin Park?”

Fumbling slightly, Jimin starts to feel clammy – until your hand appears, steadying his elbow.

“No photographs,” you say brightly. “Mr. Park’s exclusive photography rights are owned by the Blackhawks, and as their legal representative, I will sue for payment. Phones down. Thank you.”

With an iron grip, you steer Jimin towards the x-ray machine, where he shudders a breath.

“Thanks,” Jimin mutters, shaking his head.

“No problem.” Realizing you’re touching, you swiftly withdraw. “I didn’t realize… well, I know things were intense. I didn’t know they’d gotten worse.”

“A little,” Jimin says, and then pauses. “I had to move.”

“What?” You glance at him, startled. “To where?”

“I –”

Leaving the line at security, Jimin realizes the couple behind you are following. Jerking his chin to the left, he silently points them out and sees your face darken. Subtly, you move closer and lower your voice.

“What now?” you ask.

“Oh my god!” Someone else gasps. “Is that Jimin Park?!”

“Run,” Jimin blurts, grabbing your hand.

Your fingers curl around his, something there’s no time to linger on while plunging into the crowd. Still holding hands, you weave between people and suitcases. Most don’t even attempt to stop you, too busy worrying about their departure time. That’s one thing Jimin likes about airports. Everyone is usually in a rush, not just celebrities.

It doesn’t take long to lose their pursuers, arriving at the lounge in record time. Smoothly, the doors open to admit your entrance. Handing over his ticket, Jimin is forced to withdraw his hand, something he does with great reticence. Worse, you take a pointed step away as you enter the elevator.

Doors open on the second floor, revealing the lounge reserved for first class. Most of the chairs are empty or populated by aging businesspeople, spurring an exhale of relief from Jimin.

Spotting the well-stocked bar, you drop your backpack and head in this direction.

“I need a drink,” you mutter as you pass.

Sensing you need alone time, Jimin elects not to follow. Instead, he sinks into the chair beside yours and folds his parka in two. Stupidly, he decided to check most of his things in his suitcase. The only entertainment he has for the long flight is his phone.

Returning to the seat beside him, you take a large sip from a glass of red wine.

Jimin watches you curiously. “What were you arguing about with Yoongi?”

The words slip past before he can stop them, although inward, he cringes. Jimin is supposed to convince you he’s different, show you things have changed, and instead, his first observation is jealousy.

Your gaze cuts sideways. “He thinks I’m being stupid,” you say. “And I have to admit, he’s not wrong.”

“Stupid for… coming with me for the holidays?”

Rueful, you nod. “Well… I’m embellishing somewhat. Yoongi just said this is a bad idea. I added the stupid part.”

“Ah,” Jimin says, falling silent.

Honestly, both of you are probably right. Since leaving the car, nothing has gone to plan. Jimin was supposed to wow you with how together he is. Show you he’s trying to communicate his feelings. Apologize for everything that went wrong in September. Instead, he’s done nothing but fumble and appear slightly out of control.

Being around you though, drags him right back to that night. Crisp air, as he came home from practice after two weeks apart. Jimin’s entire body ached, having left physical therapy after hours of practice. When he walked in and saw you seated at the kitchen table, Jimin just knew.

He knew whatever you said, things wouldn’t stay the same.

Shaking his head, Jimin ends that thought in its tracks. There’s no point ruminating on the past. All he can do now is move forward.

You showed up. That’s a start.

Leaning forward, Jimin’s knee brushes yours. Immediately, you stiffen and Jimin’s gaze lifts. “I am sorry for making you do this,” he says. “But I can’t lie, I'm glad you agreed, even if Yoongi is right and this is a bad idea.”

“I know.” Your gaze darts towards him. “That’s partly why I agreed.”

Jimin tilts his head, curious, and you sigh.

“Never mind,” you mutter, lifting your glass.

Sensing he won’t get an answer, Jimin spreads his legs and looks out the window. Technically, the Blackhawks are playing tonight, but his coach insisted he sit this game out. Last weekend, Jimin was slammed roughly into the boards. Nothing bad happened, just a bruised tailbone, but apparently, his coach saw the entire season flash before his eyes. Jimin has been allowed to practice but not play until after Christmas. Better than having him out during the playoffs, argued his coach.

Picking up his phone, Jimin scrolls through his texts, then sets it back down. He doesn’t know why he bothered – only a handful of people have his real number, and the only person whose message he wants is seated beside him.

Turning to face you, Jimin clears his throat. “We should talk about this weekend,” he says, arranging himself in the seat.

“Alright.” Leaning forward, you set down your glass. “What about?”

“I don’t know.” Jimin blinks. “Don’t you want to know what we’re doing?”

You shrug, and the faintest of irritation colors his thoughts. God, it hurts just to see you. To have you so close and not be able to touch you. Not to be able to say how he feels. Worse, these feelings are tinged with bitterness, recalling the hurtful words you said as you left. Jimin does his best to separate the past from the present, but he’s only human.

“We won’t get there until late tonight,” he says stiffly. “We have a connection from Seattle, and then I’ll get the rental car.”

Nodding, you take a light sip of your wine. “Sounds good.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll probably rest at the house. Hoseok texted something about the twins wanting to make gingerbread houses, but he was trying to get out of it.”

Your lips tighten. “Okay.”

“Saturday, my mom mentioned going to the Christmas market. It’ll be in full swing, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure it will.”

He leans closer. “Sunday is the Christmas Eve party.”

“Okay.”

“Then Monday, it’s Christmas.”

“Yep.”

“Tuesday, we’re all doing the polar plunge in the lake.”

“Sure th–” You whip your head sideways. “Wait, what?”

Jimin smirks and sits back. “Just checking.”

“Checking what?” Scowling, you finish your wine. “If I was listening? Turns out, I was.”

“You gave one-word answers.”

“And?” Briskly, you set down the glass. “Jimin. This is basically the first time we’ve spoken since we broke up. How do you want me to act? It’s hard enough seeing you without… without all this pretending.”

Jimin’s heart sinks. “Pretending?”

“To date.” Your gaze darts to his, then away. “Why? What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing.” He hesitates. “I know. I’m sorry. I just…” Jimin hesitates before reluctantly choosing the coward’s way out. “My family will never believe this if we aren’t at least cordial.”

You frown at the empty wine glass, then slowly exhale, and turn sideways to face him.

“Fine.” You fold your arms over your chest. “Let’s declare a truce.”

“A truce?”

You jerk your chin in a nod. “Yes. We pretend the last three months didn’t happen. Maybe we went through a rough patch, but nothing more. I never moved out. You never asked to break up.”

Heat flares up his spine. “I think you meant, you never asked for a break.”

“A truce,” you grind out, each word sounding painful. “Okay?”

“Fine.”

As much as he missed you, Jimin knows there are things to discuss. How you two ended, for one. The reason neither of you called, for another. Each small hurt compounded, becoming insurmountable until he couldn’t separate you from the rest. There’s so much to discuss – but Jimin can’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that you’re here.

He missed your intensity, that look in your eye when you know you’re right. Take now, for example. A tiny, prideful part of Jimin hoped that once you arrived, this all would be solved. He should’ve known better. Dr. Nygard would have cautioned him to know better. Time doesn’t solve anything; it just dulls the pain.

Before Jimin can say anything more, a monotone voice announces your gate is boarding. Panicked, you bolt upright and reach for your backpack. Fighting a smile, Jimin stands as well, grabbing your purse from the ground where you left it.

Following you to the elevators, he wordlessly hands it over when the doors open.

“Oh!” you blurt, accepting this from his hand. “I could’ve sworn – shit. Thanks, Jimin,” you murmur, facing away.

Jimin nods and stands beside you, ignoring the pang of familiarity this brings. He can’t count the number of times you left your phone or your wallet behind while you were dating. Despite your brilliancy, mundane things like purse or coat placements seldom seem to occur to you. Almost like you exist on a separate plane, one which only occasionally overlaps with this one.

The airport beyond is in full holiday swing. Jimin navigates as quickly as possible, reaching your gate as first class is boarding. Flashing your tickets, he falls into step alongside you as you head down the long walkway.

Jimin takes the window seat, while you take the aisle. Many vacations have taught Jimin that this is the ideal combination. You hate being cold, and without fail, will use the bathroom one hour into the flight.

Although you don’t say much as you taxi, you also don’t bicker – which Jimin supposes is positive. Once the plane is in flight, you take out an eye mask and make a vampiric attempt at sleeping upright. Lips twitching, Jimin orders a glass of whiskey and opens the novel app on his phone.

He’s midway through a chapter when your head, soft and heavy, falls on his shoulder. Surprised, Jimin looks down and immediately stills.

Even asleep, you’re beautiful.

Jimin nearly laughs, imagining your expression were he to ever say that. You’d call him a liar, saying you’re well-aware you drool when you sleep. Despite this, your expression is peaceful. The crease between your brows has lessened and dimly, Jimin wonders if he was the cause.

Idly, he reaches out to smooth a piece of hair from your neck. Fingers freezing, Jimin jerks his hand back and wonders what the hell he’s doing.

He used to be able to simply ask why you’re stressed, and you’d tell him. Jimin supposes he stopped being that person long before you broke up, though. The year after his accident, he had a hard time expressing the full depth of his pain. It wasn’t until later he realized the ripple effect this had on his life. People won’t confide in someone who doesn’t confide in them. As Dr. Nygard often says, trust works both ways.

Leaving your head on his shoulder, Jimin returns to his phone and tries to read. It’s a five-hour flight from Chicago to Seattle, and he spends this entirety reading less than fifty pages.

Partly, Jimin is distracted by your proximity and your fancy shampoo. Partly, he’s obsessing over what to say to his parents when he lands. With you here, there’s nothing to think about except the upcoming conversation.

Growing up, his parents never wanted him to play hockey. Jimin was put in the sport begrudgingly when his best friend, Jungkook, begged his parents for lessons. As the years passed and it became clear Jimin was talented, his parents were resigned but worried. Jimin can’t really blame them.

Hockey is dangerous. Jimin knows this firsthand, even if it wasn’t made obvious by the amount of gear players wear. It was hard enough, recovering from an injury without having to convince his main supporters the profession was worthwhile. For a long time, Jimin’s life felt like an endless cycle of doctors, surgeons, therapists and arguing.

Some experts doubted he’d ever play again, sending him into a spiral. Traumatic incidents often spark anxiety or depression, Dr. Nygard explained. For a while, Jimin didn’t know how to talk – to you or to anyone – about what happened that day. He was a hockey player, for God’s sake. He should have been used to getting injured, but last November was different.

Never had Jimin fallen and not been sure he’d get up. Shakily, Jimin exhales and glances down at your face.

The week you left, Jimin hit his rock bottom. It may not have looked that way to everyone, but to Jimin, it was the first time he saw he wasn’t in control. After the requisite therapy by his team, Jimin stopped going. He found a new therapist after you left, searching for a new doctor who really cared.

Now, Jimin knows there are no easy fixes. Self-change is a purposeful effort that takes sustained work. At least now, he feels equipped for the process. Before you left, he felt unworthy of change and so, he pushed you away.

When you gently snore, Jimin glances down. Hiding his smile, he reaches across you to adjust your blanket. Slowly, he withdraws and his smile fades. Before you arrived, Jimin had a plan. Said plan involved him getting on his knees and begging you for forgiveness, but everything changed when he saw your face.

You don’t trust him.

And really, why would you? The truth is, Jimin shut you out for months before you finally sat down and asked for a break. And his immediate response was you might as well break up.

Releasing a breath, Jimin sits back in his seat. For the rest of the flight, he tries not to think about what comes next. The work he must put in to earn your forgiveness. Instead, he simply enjoys the weight of your head on his shoulder.

When the wheels hit the ground, you’ve dozed for nearly four hours. Groggily, you lift your head as the plane lights come on.

“I – oh!” you blurt, jerking upward. “I’m so sorry,” you gasp, staring at a spot on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Par for the course.” Jimin attempts a joke, and you manage to smile.

People crowd the aisles, and Jimin pulls you past them to exit first. Your connecting flight is on the opposite side of the terminal, forcing you to jog to make it in time. Seattle is the closest major airport to home, but if time is tight, a smaller flight is usually worthwhile. The drive to Garland, Washington can be upwards of five hours with traffic.

The second flight you take is small. Small enough to board directly from the tarmac. Jimin watches your suitcases brought onto the plane and exhales, knowing this is an eighty-twenty chance of success.

Approaching the stairs, he takes your backpack in one hand.

“I can take that, Jimin,” you say lowly.

“I know.” He ducks his head as he boards. “But from here on out, I’m your boyfriend – right? It’d be weird to let you carry your bags.”

Shaking your head, you follow him up the steps. “Your family isn’t even here, Jimin.”

Walking down the aisle, Jimin locates his seat and sinks down with your backpack. Carefully, he stows this beneath the seat before him.

“No,” he says as you sit beside him. “But everyone here is headed to Garland. Can’t hurt to start now, can it?”

“I guess not.” Setting your purse down, you turn sideways. “What am I walking into, anyways?”

“What do you mean?”

Aimless, you wave. “You mentioned a rough patch between us. Do they think that we’re fighting? Why… I mean, how have you been explaining my absence? Haven’t they noticed I haven’t been at your games?”

Jimin glances down, feeling queasy. “Well, that’s easy,” he mutters. “They haven’t been watching, so no, they haven’t noticed your absence. I’ve been avoiding my family, telling them that I’m busy. They probably suspect we’re having problems,” Jimin admits. “But I said you were coming, and they all seemed excited.”

When you say nothing, Jimin glances over and finds your brow furrowed.

“They haven’t been watching your games?” you ask.

“Can you blame them? My mom… she said she didn’t want to watch me get hurt again.”

Your lips press together, and Jimin can sense your disapproval. The night of his accident, you were there, in the crowd. If anyone understands the horror of watching, it would be you. And yet, you accompanied him in the ambulance, sat with him in every waiting room, brought him changes of clothes and new books to read.

“Hm,” you murmur, facing forward.

Jimin’s lips twitch. “Come on,” he says, poking you lightly. “What do you really want to say?”

You inhale deeply, and Jimin’s gaze drops to the front of your sweater. Dragging his eyes upward, he focuses on your mouth. No, no – your eyes.

Which flick to him. “They should be watching. That’s all.”

“Oh, right,” Jimin chuckles, settling back in his seat. “You mean, like you’re watching?”

Before you can say anything, the in-flight safety demonstration starts, and you shake your head and sit back. Jimin stares at your profile, wondering for a moment before he lets it go. Lord knows he checks your Instagram account multiple times a day.

The second flight is shorter, barely reaching cruising altitude before the seatbelt sign is back on for landing. Garland Regional Airport is only big enough for a handful of gates, a single baggage carousel, and a rental car agency. The hour is late enough for no line, and Jimin selects the only SUV remaining on the lot.

You insist on pulling your gigantic suitcase yourself, nearly tripping several times in reaching the car. Gritting his teeth, Jimin forcibly stops himself from trying to help. Even when you were dating, you insisted on reaping the consequences, saying you were the one who made your decisions.

With the suitcases loaded, Jimin enters the driver’s side and plugs in his phone. Service through the mountains is iffy, so it’s a good idea to download the map here. Opposite him, you crank the seat heater higher, wrapping your thin coat tight around your frame.

Gritting his teeth, Jimin loses his battle with self-control. “Here,” he declares, unwrapping his scarf. “Take this.”

You go still when he drapes this over your neck. The tips of Jimin’s fingers brush skin, and he thinks he sees you shiver. Likely, from the cold. Pulling away before his thoughts can run amok, Jimin places both hands firmly on the wheel. Yanking down the visor, he checks behind him, then does absolutely nothing.

Silence ticks by in the car, his heartbeat outrunning the holiday music.

“Hey.” When you touch his arm, Jimin nearly jumps. Glancing sideways, he finds your expression to be gentle. “It’s going to be fine. Okay?” you say. “I promise, we’ll get through this.”

Jimin narrows on your use of the word we, which gives him the strength to nod and face forward. Avoiding his parents won’t solve anything. Just like avoiding talking to you didn’t do him any favors.

Putting the car in reverse, Jimin pulls from the airport and merges onto the road. Garland being the tiny town that it is, the airport road soon transitions to a dirt one which winds its way through the foothills.

The ghost of your handprint lingers on his arm, and Jimin can’t help but hope when this weekend is over, your words will apply to more than his parents.

Bumps in the road rattle your teeth, making you latch onto the door with a death grip. You can see Jimin’s lips twitch, but barely have it in you to scowl. He’s used to these roads, having grown up on them. You, on the other hand, rarely drive if you can help it.

Fingers gripping the handle, you stare out the window at a sea of snow. Despite the car’s bouncing, the fields beyond it are serene. Garland, Washington is just on the other side of the Cascade Mountain range, near the Canadian border. This part of America always amazes you, especially being from the Midwest. In Chicago, everything is flat except for the skyscrapers, and maybe the staircases leading to upper Wacker.

In the West, you can drive past acres of land, only to be surprised by the sharp jut of mountains on the horizon. So tall they seem close from miles away, with rolling foothills at the base where Garland is nestled. The first time you came, you called the hill where his family lives a mountain and Jimin laughed so hard, he nearly walked into a door.

Remembering this, your lips can’t help but twitch. Glancing sideways, your amusement fades as your gaze lands on Jimin. Unfair of him, showing up this weekend looking like that. When you realized it was Jimin in the window of the airport, you almost tripped and fell over your gigantic suitcase.

His dark hair is longer than usual, curling a little behind reddened ears. Even with his gigantic parka, you can tell his fitness routine has amped up. As a hockey player, Jimin is contractually obligated to stay in shape, but this is something else. He even had the gall to put on reading glasses before the flight, something which necessitated your sleep mask – and promptly fall asleep, only to drool on his shoulder.

Cringing again, you force your gaze forward. If Jimin was feeling sentimental, there’s no doubt he’s regretting this vacation now. In fact, there have been several times today you wondered if Jimin was contemplating sending you home. Not that you’d blame him. This idea is terrible at best, but now you’ve committed. If Jimin wants you to go, he’ll have to ask you himself.

Something he’s proven he has no problem doing.

Stiffening, you drag your thoughts from the past. You only need to make it one weekend. One weekend, and then you can – well. Thinking too much of the future is dangerous. Yoongi and Namjoon were right in their caution, warning you not to come. Not for the reasons one might think. They like Jimin, and have always thought him a good guy, but they were the ones who saw you after. They were the ones who picked up the pieces when he left, and you know they’re afraid you’ll shatter again.

Hell, you’re afraid you might shatter and yet, here you are. Speeding down a dark road in the country at night. A metaphor oddly related to the state of your heart.

Hitting a bump, the car jostles again and Jimin reaches for you on reflex. Gaze darting towards you, he swiftly withdraws, brushing his scarf in the process.

“Sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, sinking lower. As circumspect as possible, you take a deep breath. Jimin’s scarf smells just like him – black pepper and cedar, with the faintest hint of pine.

Rounding the bend, the trees clear and his house comes into view. For the first time since the airport, a frisson of excitement enters your stomach. You never really understood the appeal of the holidays until the Parks. Although they’re not religious, they truly adore the cultural Christmas spirit. Each time you visit, you’re surrounded by the feeling of home, love, and family.

When you and Jimin ended, you thought you’d never feel like that again. This weekend – and what comes next – might be worth it, if only to feel that once more.

Pulling to a stop in the drive, Jimin unplugs his phone and turns off the car. He hesitates a long moment before turning sideways.

“Okay,” he says. “Is there anything I should know before we go in there?”

You blink. “Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know.” Jimin lowers his voice, a dark piece of hair falling over his forward. “Any projects you’ve been working on – cool cosplay for your socials?”

His words make you swallow, struck by the reminder that he isn’t yours. For a moment, you nearly forgot.

“Um.” Searching, your gaze is drawn by the lights of the house. “Nothing much. I have a few demanding clients, but that’s pretty normal. Fantasy High season three is coming out, so I’ve been brushing off Dimension 20 cosplay. What about you? How’s training?”

Jimin frowns. “Good. Bruised my tailbone last Sunday, so I’m sitting out games for the next two weeks. I bought a new apartment.”

“You what?” Startled, you fully face him. Inside the house, you think you see shadows cross the front window, but that fades in importance. “You – when? Where are you living now?”

Jimin slides his phone in his parka. “It’s not a big deal,” he mutters. “I just… didn’t need that much space.”

He pauses, the words lingering but he doesn’t say more. Shutting your jaw, you face forward. After four years of dating, you’re familiar by now with Jimin’s many silences. This one means he has more to say but can’t fathom how.

The center of your chest feels hollow, stale in a way you can’t explain. When the two of you ended, you were the one to move out, but regretted it instantly. When you lived together, you hated the way his door squeaked, the radiator that hissed, but the moment you left, it all had a rosy glow. Your one-bedroom apartment on the north side is nothing to brag about; you’ve barely decorated that place for a reason.

“West Loop,” Jimin answers.

Your eyes widen. “Well… that’s fancy.”

Accusation laces the words, and you don’t try to hide it. Jimin used to make fun of his teammates who lived in fancier parts of Chicago.

“It’s closer to practice,” he argues. “And it’s not like –”

The porch light turns on, and the front door flings open.

“Jimin!” calls his mom, rushing outside. “Y/N! Is that you?”

Head jerking up, you recognize your audience at the same time as Jimin. Slamming down walls, you do your best to paste a smile on your face. The entire reason you came here was to convince Jimin’s family you’re still together. You can hardly do that while bickering about where he lives.

“Y/N,” he says lowly.

“Save it,” you blurt, pushing open the door. Immediately, you sink your foot into a snowbank. “Ah!” you blurt, hopping around – only to stumble, face-first, into Jimin. Catching you easily, he shuts the door with one hand.

“This way,” he says. Sliding his hand into yours, Jimin pulls you towards the house. Noticing your glance at the car, he adds, “My dad and I will get the suitcases after. Let’s just say hi to my mom.”

Your foot is damp and tingling, stifling any urge you had to stay. Limping up the front steps to the porch, you reciprocate when arms are thrown around your waist. Jimin’s mom is one of the sweetest – and shortest – people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Pulling back, she holds you at arms-length. “Y/N, you are just too beautiful,” she sighs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d never believe you were on a seven-hour flight.”

Jimin chuckles, stepping past you to hold open the door. “All seven hours weren’t at once, mom,” he teases.

“Are you denying my beauty?” you quip as you pass.

His throat visibly bobs as he swallows, something you choose to ignore for the sake of your sanity. Inside, his mom leads you into the foyer.

Hands on hips, she turns. “And you!” she huffs, stepping forward to squeeze her son. “Not telling us until the last minute that Y/N was coming. I don’t know who raised you, young man.”

Jimin rolls his eyes playfully. “No one in this house, that’s for sure.”

“That was my fault,” you say as you shut the door. Removing your shoes, you set them by the coat rack. “I have a few big projects I’m working on, so I wasn’t sure I could take the time off.”

Breaking free of the hug, Jimin’s mom faces you. “Well, we’re incredibly glad to have you here, but tell us if you need a break this weekend. Even if you need to lock yourself in your room!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Park,” you say sheepishly.

As you unwind the scarf from your neck, the door opens again, letting in a cold gust. Hoseok and Jimin’s dad enter, stamping their feet on the rubber mat. They must have gone out the garage to get your bags, since you recognize your giant suitcase pulled by Hoseok, Jisoo’s husband.

Your stomach bottoms out. “Oops – sorry!” you blurt, rushing towards him. “I was planning to get that. I know that it’s heavy.”

“What, this?” Hoseok jokes, pulling it over the threshold. “Nah, this is light. You should see when Jisoo packs the twins’ suitcases.”

“Careful,” Jimin laughs, hanging up his coat. “Jisoo once heard me tell on her from across the house. She never lets me forget it.”

Dropping Jimin’s bag by the staircase, his dad crosses the room to hug you with one arm. “It’s so good to have you here, Y/N,” he says.

“Likewise,” you say, smiling faintly.

Setting down your suitcase, Hoseok bounds across the hall and scoops you in his arms. Hugging you tight, he imbues the scent of sugar and cinnamon. “Hey, Y/N!” he says, much too loud. “It’s fucking freezing out there.”

“Language!” scolds a familiar voice. “Y/N!” Jisoo cries, rushing forward and shoving her husband aside. Her arms wrap around you. “Thank god you’re here! There’s so much testosterone in this house, it’s unconscionable.”

“It’s literally just me and your dad,” Hoseok points out.

Trapped in Jisoo’s arms, you watch him and Jimin’s dad lug your suitcase upstairs.

“Yeah, like I said – too much,” Jisoo grumbles and releases. She looks you up and down. “Ugh, I agree with my mom. Why do you look hot at the airport, Y/N?”

You can’t help but laugh, warmth spreading through your chest the longer you stand there. Jimin leans on the banister, watching all this with a half-smile. If this were the airport, or the plane, you could have followed your instinct to look away. All that saved you from crumbling on the flight was your ability to avoid eye contact.

Here, though – you’re supposed to be in love with Jimin. Which you are. Except you shouldn’t be. Except right now, it’s okay to be and so, you look back. Locking eyes with him, you smile and Jimin’s face transforms.

He smiles so large, his eyes near-disappear, carving the hollow inside your chest even deeper. Before you can comment, tiny footsteps thunder down the long hall. Jisoo and Hoseok’s daughters, Hana and Ari, speed around the corner, catching themselves before they trip.

“Uncle Jimin!” they squeal, rushing forward.

Jimin bends to scoop them both around the waist. “Oh my gosh,” he groans, tossing them over his shoulders. “You two got even bigger. Soon, you’ll be taller than I am!”

“No, we won’t,” Ari giggles, kicking in mid-air.

Hoseok pops his head down from the landing. “Careful, Jimin,” he warns. “If they throw up down your back, that’s on you.”

Stopping abruptly, Jimin returns them both to the ground. “Did you say hi to Y/N?”

Both whirl to face you. “Y/N!” cry Hana and Ari, running forward.

Laughing, you bend and squish them both. Unlike Jimin, you don’t try to lift them, but just hold them close.

The first time you came for Christmas, Jisoo was pregnant at the time. You’ve watched the twins grow from infants to the three-year-old terrors they are, and honestly, it terrifies you how quickly they age. Followed by sadness, realizing they likely won’t remember you after this trip.

Pulling back, you manage to smile. “Jimin is right,” you say. “You two are going to play basketball for sure.”

Hana giggles loudly. “No, I wanna skate! Like Uncle Jimin!”

Behind her, Jisoo’s smile disappears. Straightening, she glances in the direction of her dad, and you watch Jimin’s father turn pointedly away. He walks down the hall, and Jimin’s mom shakes her head slowly.

Ari continues, blissfully oblivious to the tension in the room. “I’m gonna be on TV, like Y/N!”

Stifling a smile, you push yourself upward. No matter how many times you explain what you do, the twins refuse to believe you aren’t actually the characters you cosplay. At this point, you’ve mostly given up on correcting them.

“What about your mom and dad?” Hoseok jokes, scooping Ari onto his hip. “Don’t you want to be like us?”

“No!” Ari yells, and Hana latches onto Hoseok’s leg.

Hoseok sighs. “Should’ve expected that.”

Hana, already a daddy’s girl, turns her face towards him. “I’ll be a… a…”

“Physical therapist,” Jisoo stage-whispers.

“Yeah!”

Chuckling, Jisoo walks over and picks Hana up. “Okay, enough of that. You were allowed to stay up for Uncle Jimin and Y/N, but now it’s time for bed. Goodnight, everyone!” she calls, heading down the hall. “We’ll see you tomorrow!”

You smile, stifling a yawn as Jisoo and the twins leave. The hour is late, a fact Jimin’s mom seems to realize at the same time.

“Silly me,” she laughs, half-turning. “Have you eaten yet? I have leftovers, or I could whip something up?”

“We ate on the flight,” you respond. “But thank you so much.”

Jimin nods, appearing by your side and slipping a hand to your elbow. “Yeah, thanks, mom. But it’s been a long day of travel. I think we’re just going to head to sleep.”

“Of course, of course.” His mom waves you off. “Darling, will you help them with the bags?” she asks as Jimin’s dad re-enters.

“Oh, that’s not necessary –”

“There’s no use, Y/N,” Jimin says, grabbing your purse as his dad steps in.

Jimin’s dad is a kind, soft-spoken man – much like Jimin, he prefers to let others talk rather than state his own feelings. The fact that he specifically said he didn’t want Jimin to play, you know, impacted Jimin far more than he’d like.

Following them upstairs, you find yourself ensconced in memories. Much like Ebenezer Scrooge, Christmases of long ago rise the further you walk. Mid-way down the hall, your stomach drops when you realize something important.

Entering the door at the end, Jimin’s dad leaves it open. “The room’s been made up,” he calls over his shoulder. “Plenty of towels under the sink but let us know if you need more. Let’s see… there’s toothpaste, shampoo, and conditioner if you forgot any.”

You come to a sudden stop, forcing Jimin to walk directly into you. He stumbles, steadying himself with one hand on your back.

“Y/N.” Jimin lowers his voice. “Are you alright?”

“I…” The words stick in your throat. “Yeah. It’s just… nothing.”

In the center of the room is a single, Queen-sized bed. Somehow, in all your imaginings, you never actually pictured the sleeping arrangements. Every other visit, sharing Jimin’s childhood bedroom-turned-guest room was fine. Now though, you find yourself wondering how this will work.

Setting down Jimin’s suitcase, his dad straightens and dusts off his hands. “Well,” he says, turning around. “I’ll leave you two to settle in. Call if you need anything, alright? So happy you’re here, Y/N,” he adds before stepping outside.

The door closes behind him with a soft click.

After a moment of silence, Jimin crosses the room. He bends to unzip his suitcase and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with memories. Jimin has always been the type who unpacked as soon as you arrived, whereas you’d live out of your suitcase if you could. Sometimes, you had pity and unpacked with him, while other times, you mercilessly waited and watched him squirm.

The second option seems rife with turmoil, so instead, you drag your giant suitcase aside and unzip. Pulling clothes from a rumpled mess, you grab hangers from the closet to put them away. When you turn around, you catch Jimin watching, crouched beside his suitcase.

His gaze tracks your movements. “You don’t have to unpack, you know.”

“I know.” Grabbing another hanger, you lift a shirt. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

“Besides,” you add, your panic shifting to irritability. “It’s not like I expect you to help anymore. We’re not together.”

“I know.” Jimin is quiet for a moment. “I’d help if you wanted me to.”

Pressing your lips together, you stop yourself from saying something embarrassing. “Maybe we need ground rules,” you blurt as you turn.

Slowly, Jimin rises. “What type of ground rules?”

“You know.” Desperate, you cast your gaze elsewhere. “Like, obviously we’re not going to… sleep together this weekend.”

“In that bed?”

“In any way,” you hiss.

Lifting a brow, Jimin moves closer. It takes everything in you not to meet him halfway. Instead, you tilt your chin upward as he stops before you.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do,” he agrees.

This only serves to worsen your mood. Of course, Jimin would turn this back on you. “I need to know how to act this weekend,” you demand.

“Act… like yourself.”

“And when we’re alone?” you ask. When he doesn’t respond, you continue, “I think we should only pretend to be a couple around your family.”

The furrow between his brows deepens. “Fine.”

“And agreed to your first rule – no sleeping together.”

A muscle in his jaw tics. “Fine,” Jimin repeats. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Your gaze darts to the worn loveseat shoved under the window. For a moment, you hesitate, since it barely looks large enough to fit Jimin lying down. The thought of him sleeping beside you in the same bed though, is dangerous enough that you nod.

“Okay,” you say.

“Anything else?”

His words are layered with challenge and, hearing this, your gaze narrows. Some of Jimin’s amiability has vanished, leaving behind a version of Jimin you used to enjoy. Not that you ever made him mad on purpose, but Jimin is rarely as honest as when he’s angry. Usually, he’s so concerned with people liking him, it can take immense anger to say what he thinks.

When he’s mad though, the façade slips. Like now – each mild annoyance and irritation is clear on his face. Jimin’s lips twist, his jaw set in a way that sends a thrill down your spine. Oddly enough, you revel in being able to get beneath his skin. It means you affect him, no matter how small.

“Physical contact is fine,” you say, lifting your chin. “Kissing is not.”

“Oh?” Jimin murmurs, tilting his head. “You think my family won’t be suspicious if we don’t kiss the entire time you’re here?”

“Fine,” you amend. “Kissing should be kept to a minimum, though. And no tongue.”

“Suit yourself. Anything else? Last chance to add, before the weekend starts.”

Jimin has moved close enough that you stand nose-to-nose and for a moment, you’re consumed by the urge to close the distance. To dig your fingers into his hair, crush your mouths together and allow him to consume you.

The thought of what comes next is enough to deter you. Deflating, you take a step around him.

“No,” you say softly. “That’s it. I’m getting ready for bed.”

Grabbing your toiletry kit, you head for the bathroom. Jimin doesn’t try to stop you, but you see he remains where he stands as you shut the door. Setting down your bag, you turn on the faucet and grip the counter. Tears burn your eyes, but you blink them away.

You may have made the wrong decision in coming here. Yoongi and Namjoon were right – how can you possibly sit here, pretending nothing happened and return Tuesday to your tiny apartment? Being around Jimin is one hundred times worse than being alone. All you can think about is when you were together, if you were together –

Groaning aloud, you turn. Opening the linen closet, you select a hand towel and go through your night routine as fast as possible. Five more days, you remind yourself while brushing your teeth. You only have to make it for five days.

Turning off the sink, you exit the bathroom and realize you might have been wrong. Five days is an eternity.

Jimin sits on the edge of his sofa, legs spread while scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He isn’t wearing a shirt and for a moment, all you can see is hard muscle. A clearly defined v disappears beneath flannel pants, making your mouth water.

In a moment of true inconvenience, he looks up while you stand there, mouth agape.

Immediately, his eyes widen when he sees you.

Glancing down, you recall the reason why, and your face starts to heat. Jimin bought you this pajama set two years ago for Christmas – purposefully scandalous, made with silk shorts so short they’re practically underwear. On a whim, you packed only revenge sleepwear – something you simultaneously regret and revel in now, seeing the look on his face.

“Goodnight,” you squeak, practically flinging yourself across the room and into bed. Reaching out, you turn off the light and burrow under the covers as quickly as possible.

Each sound in the room seems louder than normal. Jimin’s feet hit the floorboards, then he flicks the bathroom light on, shutting the door with a squeak of the hinges.

More sounds follow. The shower turns on, the curtain is pulled back, and Jimin steps inside as droplets of water hit his naked chest –

“Oh my god,” you moan, turning to muffle your face. “Y/N, get a grip.”

No one answers, unsurprisingly, and you stifle the sounds of the shower with your pillow. Although you expected to lie awake for hours, the exhaustion of the day slips over you easily. By the time Jimin returns, you’re mostly asleep.

You think you hear him say your name, imagine warmth on your forehead and then, nothing. Sleep claims you until daylight.

The next morning, Jimin is awoken by dull pain from his tailbone. Rolling over, he catches himself a split-second before he falls from his bed – which is to say, the old couch in his bedroom. Flopping onto his back, Jimin stares at the ceiling. An unassuming crack splinters above him, spiderwebbing towards the door in dramatic fashion.

No one seems to be up yet, so Jimin attempts to fall back asleep. He’s nearly succeeded when a knock sounds at the door. Jimin doesn’t stir, simply staying put.

“Jimin? Y/N? Are you up?”

Hearing the voice, Jimin’s eyes fly open. Shit. His mom is at the door, and if Jimin knows his family at all, he knows a forced entry is imminent.

Bolting upright, Jimin stumbles off the couch, one foot tangling in the blanket he slept in. Scooping this in one hand, he fairly sprints towards the bed and yanks back the covers. Before he can think twice, he slips beneath the sheets and throws an arm over your waist.

Jimin cringles, expecting you to wake up and berate him for breaking the first rule you gave. Indeed, he’s prepared to defend himself when you do the unthinkable – murmuring gently, you arch and shift backwards.

Jimin goes still. With his arm around your waist, he can feel your soft curves, pressed firmly against him and – fuck. Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, fully embarrassed by his body’s response.

“Jimin?”

The door cracks open, and Jimin exhales.

“We’re up, mom,” he mumbles, his voice rough with sleep. The door halts, and Jimin feels you stiffen beneath him. “Just sleeping in.”

“Oh! Right, yes – I’m sorry, dears. I just wanted to know if you need breakfast!”

“We’ll be down soon,” Jimin calls, tightening his grip when you attempt to wriggle free. Seeming to grasp the hint, you go still.

“Alright!”

The door fully closes, and Jimin exhales.

Half-turning to face him, your eyes narrow. “Jimin, wh–”

“Shh,” he murmurs, keeping you still with that same arm.

You stop moving, gaze lingering and Jimin hopes you don’t notice the front of his sweatpants. While you were dating, one of his favorite ways to wake up was with you in his arms. Entangled, half-asleep and drowsily aware of your need for one another.

Once his mom’s footsteps are gone, Jimin releases his grip. “Sorry,” he mutters, scooting away. “I heard the door open and panicked. Didn’t want them thinking we slept apart.”

“Oh. Right.”

You sound oddly disappointed, although he’s probably imagining that. Jimin valiantly attempts to keep his gaze on your face and not lower, where your excuse-for-pajamas exposes most of your chest. When he bought them for you two years ago, he never dreamt they’d be used in this fashion. Honestly, hat’s off to you if this was a planned torture.

A devious glint enters your eye, and Jimin can almost imagine the look is for him. At least, he thinks he’s imagining things until you move closer. Time seems to slow when your hand lands on his chest.

Jimin inhales, the sound embarrassingly rough. “So–”

“Do–”

You each pause, waiting for the other to finish and Jimin’s neck flushes. “You go,” he murmurs.

“I was just thinking…” Fleeting, you smile. “Do you remember the first time we visited?”

Jimin stifles the urge to cover his face. “Remember?” he groans, rolling onto his back and tugging you with. “Am I ever going to live that down?”

Grin widening, you rest your head on the pillow beside him. “Nope,” you tease. “You were so nervous your family would hear us doing something, you put a pillow barrier in the bed between us. A pillow barrier!” you repeat, dissolving into laughter.

Jimin’s lips twitch. “That did not work.”

“No, it didn’t,” you agree, your gaze bright. “If I remember correctly, I woke up on the last day with your mouth between my legs.”

“If I remember correctly, I had a standing invitation to do so.”

“True. Definitely still my favorite wake-up method.” You abruptly go still, remembering where you are and who you’re with. “I mean,” you rush. “Not that we do that anymore. Or that I like – well, I still like that, but I…”

Although Jimin stays silent, his heart squeezes tighter. The thought of you waking up like that with someone else sends heat through his veins, burning away common sense.

“Yeah.” Removing his hand, Jimin rolls sideways. “Anyways, sorry about that. I know we said we wouldn’t act like a couple when we’re alone.”

Facing away, Jimin can practically hear your walls being raised. Walls he encouraged – more for self-preservation than anything else.

“No problem,” you say tightly.

Your feet hit the floor and Jimin’s watches from the corner of one eye as you enter the bathroom. Only then does he exhale, wincing a little at the situation below. Leaning back, he stares at the ceiling and resigns himself to yet another cold shower. The memory of your pussy, gleaming and wet while he sucked on your –

“Fuck,” Jimin mutters, standing abruptly to limp across the room.

Gathering his clothes, he exits the room for the bathroom down the hall. You aren’t his anymore, he reminds himself while stepping under the spray. Tipping back his head, Jimin allows thoughts of you to consume him; imagining what would’ve happened if you were still his.

You aren’t his, though. The thought is enough to kill his hard-on, and he lets go of himself to grab the shampoo. Your words from earlier come back, and Jimin can’t help but wonder at your true meaning. Is theresomeone else waking you up that way? When he called you last weekend, Jimin thought you were with someone and you told him no, but actually – well. What you said was that was none of Jimin’s business.

Feeling slightly sick, Jimin goes through the motions of washing his hair. Stepping from the shower, he wraps a towel around his waist and clears off the glass.

Dr. Nygard would tell him to stop, to slow down and observe the situation. Jimin can’t automatically believe the worst option when he has ambiguous information. What have you said? You agreed to come here, for one. Jimin doesn’t think he’s deluding himself by imagining most exes wouldn’t do that. He also doesn’t believe you would come if you were seeing someone serious.

And that’s all that matters, really. Jimin doesn’t care if you’ve dated during your time apart – all he cares about is that you hear him when he says he wants you back.

Which he will. He just needs to figure out how.

Warm laughter drifts from the kitchen as you head downstairs. After the complete and utter disaster that was this morning, you spent longer than usual getting ready for the day. Mostly, you spent time in the shower, the water cranked to a temperature barely legal to stand in.

Definitely still my favorite wake-up method. Cringing again, you stop in the hall. If Jimin didn’t hear the desperation in your voice, you’d be surprised. You might as well have thrown your leg over his waist or told him you still think about him when you come. From the way Jimin yeeted himself out of the bed, it’s clear he doesn’t feel the same way.

For all you know, he’s been ‘moving on’ for months now. Stomach sinking, you recall the age-old adage about break-ups. Women feel the most at first, slowly getting better until, three months later, they’re ready to start dating again. Men are the opposite, throwing themselves into every open bed until, three months in, they realize how good they had it back then.

Feeling somewhat foolish, you wonder if Jimin has been sleeping around. He’s a world-famous NHL player – it’s not like he would be at a loss for options. Women and men hotter, funnier, and smarter than you are probably lining themselves up for the chance.

No, you reiterate, shaking your head. Even if he has been seeing other people, Jimin asked you to come with him to Garland. You’re the one he invited, which he wouldn’t have done if there was someone else in the picture.

Hovering outside the kitchen, you listen in. Hoseok laughs at something Jimin’s dad said, and Jisoo is asking her mom for more fruit. Jimin says he’s got it, making your chest tighten. This was the family you were supposed to be a part of; the future you envisioned for nearly four years.

Still, you manage to keep your smile in place as you enter. “Good morning!” you chirp, heading straight for the coffee.

Jisoo glances up from the table. “Y/N!” she says, shoving back her chair. “I was half-asleep last night and didn’t properly hug you. Come here!”

Passing Hana and Ari, who are giggling at something Jimin just said, Jisoo wraps you warmly in her arms. Laughing, you squeeze her back and feel some of your tension fade. Jisoo is one of your favorite people on the planet, and a role model you look up to.

Three years older than Jimin, she completed her residency while planning her wedding and became pregnant with twins her first year at UW Medicine. A year ago, she and Hoseok decided to uproot their lives and move to Garland for a promotion – Jisoo became an attending physician, which was rare for someone with only three years of specialty.

Before this year, you used to talk all the time. With the move and Jimin’s injury, you haven’t spoken as much, which explains why she didn’t realize something was wrong. Or maybe she did, but simply doesn’t know how bad things are.

At long last, Jisoo separates to look you up and down. “You’re way too skinny,” she huffs, tugging you forward. “Come on, have breakfast. The girls want to make Christmas cookies later this morning.”

“Who am I to crush their dreams?”

Before you can get very far, a steaming mug of coffee is pressed into your hands. Surprised, you glance up and find Jimin beside you. He catches your gaze and smiles, damp hair in his eyes.

“Morning,” he says, his voice still rough with sleep.

You stare at him, wide-eyed, until he turns around to cross the room. Jisoo laughs at your face, shaking her head.

“You two are the worst,” she groans. “The way you look at each other is positively nauseating, like you just started dating.”

Jimin’s shoulders stiffen as he opens the fridge.

“Not that it’s a bad thing,” Hoseok says from behind. Bending, he scoops Hana’s toy from the floor. “You two are sweet, that’s all.”

“Unlike Y/N’s coffee.” Jisoo shudders.

Gamely, you take a large sip of your coffee – black, like your soul. Just how you like it. Just how Jimin knows you like it.

“Delicious,” you say, meeting his gaze over the rim of your mug.

Jimin doesn’t look away, slowly sipping his tea.

“Breakfast!” Jimin’s mom sings songs, turning from the stove. Spooning eggs onto a plate, she pushes this towards you. “I hope you don’t mind I made them scrambled, Y/N. You liked that last time you visited, right?”

“Thanks,” you say, your smile genuine while taking a seat.

The meal is uneventful, passing with small talk and regular interruptions from the twins. By the time the table is cleared, you’re completely full. You forgot this part of the holidays – food and laughter, coupled with good company.

Finishing his tea, Jimin sits beside you and subtly extends his leg. His left thigh brushes yours, making you stiffen. An accident – or so you think, until he stretches both arms overhead, exposing a flat strip of abs. Clutching your mug, you shoot him a dirty look.

Jimin drops a wink.

Once the dishes are clean, the morning continues. At the twins’ insistence, this morning’s activity is holiday cookie making. Hoseok and Jisoo picked out three types and somehow, you’ve been stuck with the most difficult.

Jimin’s dad, a retired elementary school teacher, leaves for the local theater around ten. Apparently, he’s still involved with the kids’ Christmas pageant. Jimin’s mom follows, needing to pick up some things from the store.

You end up next to Jisoo, delicately sifting flour for your cookies. Jimin is with Hoseok near the stove, conversing lowly while filling small bowls with candy. Part of you strains to overhear them, but they’re too far away. Probably for the best – for months, you’ve been consumed by the past. Your therapist would encourage living in the moment.

“How’s the new hospital?” you ask Jisoo, whisking your ingredients.

Her smile brightens. “Really great. Honestly, I was scared to move from Seattle. I knew it’d be easier to have my parents nearby, but… I don’t know.” She exhales. “I was being a snob, I guess. Thought I could only make it big in the city.”

Rueful, you smile. “I get that. But I’m glad things are going well.”

“Really well,” Jisoo says. Her glance darts to Hoseok, and she lowers her voice. “Between you and me, Hoseok and I are trying again.”

“No way,” you whisper-gush. “Seriously? Jisoo, that’s so exciting!”

“I know, right? We – oh, no! Honey, not like that.”

Turning, you stifle laughter when you see Hana pouring flour into the cookie cutter. Standing, Jisoo rushes to correct the error and clean up the mess.

Sitting back in your chair, you focus on the ingredients and attempt to squash your discomfort. You’ve always wanted kids – your wanted kids with Jimin – but now, just the thought brings back awful memories.

Missed phone calls, doctor’s appointments, and a stick with two lines.

Jimin sinks into the empty seat beside you. “Did she tell you?” he murmurs, leaning in. “That they’re trying for a third kid?”

Seemingly on accident, his right thigh presses to yours. “Yeah,” you say, trying to ignore the sparks this contact brings. “That’s awesome.”

“You were right, you know.”

Lifting your brows, you turn fully. “About what, specifically?”

Jimin chuckles, shaking his head. “Hoseok noticed you weren’t at my games,” he admits. “I said you’ve been traveling a lot for work, which he seemed to buy.”

“Hm.” Glancing sideways, you see Hoseok is watching. “Maybe we should do something… you know, to keep them off track.”

“Oh?” Somehow, his voice gets deeper. “Like what?”

Strands of dark hair have fallen over his gaze and, tentative, you reach up to brush them away. Jimin goes still, his gaze fixed on yours. When your fingers skim his jawline, Jimin audibly swallows. Pulling back, you attempt to stay calm – until he reaches up to capture your wrist.

Still looking at you, Jimin tilts your palm and presses a kiss to the center. The feel of his lips, velvet and soft, weakens behind your knees.

“Enough,” Hoseok groans, collapsing into the seat alongside you. “These cookies won’t make themselves.”

Jimin smiles and withdraws, much to your disappointment. Returning to your cookies, you try not to replay his touch in your mind. Of course, you fail. Each time Jimin moves, your thighs press together, and you’re cursed with many memories of his bare skin on yours.

At least there isn’t much need for conversation. The twins, adorable as ever, demand attention from the table as they tell their stories.

Once the cookies are in the oven, Jimin busies himself making another pot of coffee. He refills your mug, sitting closer than before, blithely oblivious to your turmoil. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was torturing you on purpose, but Jimin isn’t like that. He just loves being close to people.

While you’re busy frosting, Jimin’s mom returns from the store. “Those cookies smell amazing,” she sighs, unwinding her scarf. “Honey, help me put these away!” she calls to Jimin’s dad, entering close behind her.

Opening the fridge, he starts to unload while Ari and Hana make a mess with the sprinkles. Jimin stretches again in his seat, casually licking frosting while you try not to stare. Only bad things can come from obsessing about Jimin’s tongue.

Bringing a fresh bag of candy, Jimin’s mom sits beside Ari to help her decorate. Pouring himself a fresh mug of coffee, his dad turns around and leans against the counter. His stance is so similar to Jimin’s, you can’t help but smile.

“What is it?” Jimin asks, leaning closer.

You stifle a shiver at his breath near your ear. “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… nice being here, that’s all.”

Something unreadable darts across his expression. Before either of you can respond, Ari lets out a squeal and shoves her cookie forward.

“Look, Uncle Jimin!” she cries, showing him the final product. “Hockey puck.”

Leaning forward, Jimin blinks at a round cookie with black frosting. Hoseok shakes his head, hiding a smile and pulls the cookie back.

“Kind of looks like a button,” he mutters, and Jisoo elbows him swiftly.

You and Hoseok laugh, but you’re the only ones. Everyone else goes silent, glancing awkwardly at Jimin’s dad, who stands near the coffee pot. His lips are a thin line, his displeasure clear while setting his mug aside.

Removing his glasses, Jimin’s dad slowly polishes them on the end of his shirt. “Not sure you want to be encouraging hockey so young, Jisoo,” he says.

Jisoo visibly stiffens and Jimin sinks lower.

“She’s just supporting her uncle,” Jisoo declares. “She thinks the game is exciting – which it is.”

“Exciting, yes.” Jimin’s dad turns around. “Dangerous, is another word.”

Stomach flipping, you glance at Jimin. Part of you wonders if he’ll use this to broach the contract, but a single look sideways banishes this thought completely. Jimin’s knuckles are white from gripping his tea, his gaze darting swiftly from table to floor.

A surge of protectiveness goes through you. Although his parents mean well, in their desire to keep Jimin safe, all they’ve done is alienate him. Jimin, who does his best to please everyone and make others happy.

“Accidents can happen in a lot of sports,” you blurt, and Jimin looks upward, startled. “Or just walking down the street. Jimin is a great player, and a smart one. I, for one, am proud of everything he’s accomplished.”

Jisoo mouths, thank you, to you from across the table. Finished with your declaration, you feel an odd twinge of guilt, wondering if you overstepped. Jimin’s mom’s expression is unreadable, and his dad’s back remains to the rest of the room.

Hoseok clears his throat, always the mood-maker. “Yes, we’re all proud of Jimin for his two Stanley Cup wins– oh, wait a minute, hang on.” He presses one hand to his heart. “That was Jungkook who has two wins. Jimin only has one.”

Jisoo boos, pelting Hoseok with chocolate chips and Hana joins in. Jimin and Jungkook’s so-called ‘rivalry’ is infamous, both in the NHL and in their hometown, having grown up only streets apart. They were on the same team for one of said cup wins, but then Jungkook got traded and won another – a constant source of ribbing between them. You imagine you’ll see Jungkook at some point this weekend; he usually returns to Garland during the holidays.

While everyone laughs, you feel Jimin lean closer. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

You turn to face him head-on. “I meant it.”

His gaze only intensifies. “I know.”

A fission mends in your chest, once cracked by separation and distance. Towards the end of your relationship, you stopped being a team. Somehow, you ceased understanding what Jimin thought, and he stopped trying to tell you. It aches, imagining a separate reality where instead of breaking up, you became closer.

Jimin seems more self-aware now, more in touch with his feelings and you can’t help but wonder if it’s because you’re not together. Maybe losing you was the key to finding himself. And if that’s so – how can you ever ask him to come back?

The troubling thought lingers for the rest of the morning, and you’re no closer to an answer as lunch rolls around.

The entire rest of the day is a complicated dance of keeping your distance while simultaneously acting no different than usual. By the time the sun sets, your bones are exhausted from your world-class portrayal of Happy Girlfriend.

The rules are hindering more than they’re helping, you must admit. It’s exhausting to code switch every time you leave a room. Seeing Jimin purposefully give you distance, only to engage when his sister appears has the unfortunate consequence of making you feel used. As though you’re only worthy of attention with other people around.

Still, you’re the one who asked for this, so you’ll live with the outcome. After dinner, Jimin’s dad decides to build a bonfire and take advantage of the ‘warm spell.’ You and Jisoo exchange a glance, since your weather app states it will get below freezing. At least there’s no snow, which is likely what he means.

Jimin’s mom prepares you all for the cold, handing out blankets and making hot toddies. Jisoo bundles Hana and Ari in full snowsuits, despite Hana’s protestation that you’re wearing a sweater. Sweater is what Hana calls everything except her heaviest parka. Admittedly, you wish you’d bought a warmer jacket (Jimin has been insisting for years) when you step outside and are hit with a frigid blast of air.

Squinting into the wind, you almost don’t notice Jimin sneak up behind you. “Here,” he says, draping two blankets around you. “Ari was worried you’d catch up to the cold. I think that means, catch a cold.”

Smiling, you pull the fleece tighter. “She’s adorable,” you murmur. This time, the twinge of regret is easier to bear than before.

Settling into a chair, you accept the hot toddy Jimin hands you. Pulling his seat as close to yours as possible, Jimin drapes the same blanket over your legs. Across the fire, Hoseok and Jisoo settle on a bench – no alcohol for Jisoo, but Hoseok has a hot toddy. Jimin’s mom and dad take the seats between you, busying themselves with entertaining their granddaughters.

The fire crackles merrily before you, bronze and orange sparks drifting upward to the stars. Smiling, Jimin’s dad pokes the log and offers you marshmallows. You defer roasting to the twins, who happily take up the burden. Seeing Jimin’s dad smile eases some of your tension, glad he isn’t mad at you for what you said. You didn’t think he would be, having known him for years, but you never know. The injury changed a lot in their family.

Leaning your head to Jimin’s shoulder, you inhale his scent mixed with the bonfire. Curling your legs under, you take a sip of your drink and slowly exhale. Glancing at Jimin, you realize he’s wearing the sweater you got him your very first Christmas.

“Hey,” you blurt, reaching for the hem. “You’re wearing this.”

Jimin looks down when you push his coat aside. “Uh, yeah. I know, it’s kind of tight. I must’ve gained weight since then – it fit perfectly when you gave it to me.”

“It fits perfectly now,” you mutter.

His body stills beneath as you touch him. The fit might be snugger than your first Christmas, but you can’t help but think of it as an improvement. Jimin’s biceps strain against wool sleeves, and the pattern highlights the tapered v of his chest. Your fingers dance over the fabric, marveling until you realize you’re basically feeling him up.

Startled, you glance up and find Jimin’s eyes so dark, they’re practically onyx. Light reflects from the campfire, a hungry edge to his gaze that sends your mind reeling. Jimin’s hand moves under the blanket to grip yours, pointedly guiding your palm to rest on his thigh.

“Enough of that,” he says, his voice husky. “Or my family is going to see a lot more than they bargained for tonight.”

You squirm slightly beside him. Feeling his thigh beneath your palm has the opposite effect of what Jimin intended. You can’t help but think of this morning, waking up and the shower that followed. Now, more than ever, you’re starting to regret the rules. It’s hard to tell if Jimin is being genuine, or simply knows his family is watching.

Deciding to test this, you move closer. “Can you blame me?” you murmur. “You’ve always been good-looking, but this is something else.”

Jimin blinks, his surprise morphing quickly to something else. “Is that so?” he says lowly, his hand still over yours. “Because I seem to recall the first time we met you said you didn’t understand why I was a big deal.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, well, you deserved that. You were cocky.”

“You liked it.”

A smile twists your lips. “I did,” you admit.

The first time you met was in convention room A of some Hilton near the airport. You honestly don’t remember which one – all Hiltons look the same after a while. Jimin annoyed you at first since he drew attention away from the featured artists. Every time he entered a room, hushed whispers would follow, and focus from the panel would drift.

This eventually reached the point where you decided to say something. Personally, you claim no recollection of what you said, but Jimin insists you told him to either put on a mask or stay on the rink, but either way, his face better be gone tomorrow. This tickled him so much, that the next day at the con, Jimin wore an Iron Man mask and asked you out on a date.

His gaze heats, as though remembering the same night. You certainly didn’t intend to sleep with Jimin on the first date, but that’s what happened. After that, you were inseparable.

A marshmallow bag is thrust in your face.

“Marshmallows?” Hoseok asks, his cheeks red from the cold. “There’s only three left, so claim them before Hana and Ari roast them all. Or set them on fire.”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “You roasted the entire bag?”

“Yes and, well… some of them fell…”

Sighing, Jisoo shakes her head. “We’ll buy more tomorrow.”

Accepting the bag, Jimin pushes aside the blanket to stand. Without him, cold air rushes in to fill the empty space and you shiver. Before you can protest, Jimin turns and brushes a kiss to your forehead. No tongue, as agreed upon. Your test has completely failed.

“Be right back,” he promises, and jogs towards the fire.

Adding marshmallows to a stick, he begins to roast them in classic Jimin fashion. Finding the perfect spot over the fire so that the marshmallows turn a photogenic gold brown. Sipping your drink, you watch Jimin talk to his family, too far away to hear. Wind whistles through pine trees behind you, a wolf howling somewhere far in the distance.

Jimin throws his head back and laughs, his dark locks bright against amber flames. Every so often, he glances in your direction, as though ensuring you’re there. Something about this feels dangerous, as though neither of you are fully pretending. Whatever the truth is, you’re too tipsy to care. If you’re damned to burn by proximity, you might as well enjoy the warmth.

When Jimin returns, you accept the s’more he gives you. Jimin rejoins under the blanket, mock shivering until you lay your head again on his shoulder.

“That’s better,” he sighs, snuggling closer. “I know my dad loves these fires, but this is kind of excessive.”

“I heard that,” calls his dad from across the pit.

“You were supposed to!” Jimin yells back, prompting more laughter.

His fingers interlace with yours, and he tugs your hand to his lap. Single-handed, you finish eating the s’more and pick up your hot toddy. This feels comfortable, just like when you dated – except you’re not dating, you’re just pretending to date, but you’re still very much in love with Jimin, except you broke up for valid reasons, which –

“So,” Jisoo says, across the fire with Hoseok. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

Their mom glances at their dad. “Up in the air,” she says lightly. “I think the girls wanted to go ice skating, and we still need to holiday shop.”

“That all sounds good,” Jimin’s dad says without comment.

Your brows lift, although you keep your thoughts to yourself. It would seem the conversation this morning may have broken the ice where skating is concerned. No snide comment follows, or awkward glances.

Swallowing the last of his s’more, Jimin brushes off crumbs. “Heading into town sounds good. I need to get some last-minute gifts – I mean, uh, things. For no one.”

“Better not be my gift!” Jisoo pouts.

“Er, no – definitely not.”

Hana giggles, but Ari says nothing, fast asleep in Hoseok’s arms. Your chest twinges, looking at her sleeping body and you forcibly return your gaze to the fire. Beneath the blanket, your body has stiffened and Jimin seems to notice.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, turning into your hair.

Silently, you nod and attempt to look happy. “I’m good.”

“Then, it’s settled,” says their mom, oblivious to your conversation. “We’ll do ice skating in the morning, and shopping in the afternoon.”

“Sounds good,” you agree.

“Sunday is the Christmas Eve party,” adds Jisoo. “It’s happening at the resort this year! Aka – it’ll be fancy.”

Jimin’s mom smiles. “Make sure your gifts are wrapped before then!”

“I already wrapped mine,” says Jimin, his hand tight on yours. “Except for the ones I definitely didn’t forget.”

Hana laughs louder, her mouth full of chocolate. You exchange a pained glance with Jisoo, knowing she’s going to crash soon – and hard.

“All of your gifts?” Jisoo teases, leaning forward. “How’d you fit them in that tiny suitcase, Jimin? Unless they’re little gifts. Like… a small, Tiffany blue box?”

Hoseok hoots, and you feel Jimin’s thigh tighten beneath your hand. You’re sure you’re no better, your smile frozen in place at the implication.

“Jisoo…” Jimin warns.

“What?” She glances at Hoseok. “Come on, Jimin. We all know you’re going to propose. How else will you have all those babies you mentioned?”

“I mean, we could have a child without being married,” says Jimin drily. “But that’s beside the point.”

Jisoo rolls her eyes and sits back. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Each word slams your gut, made worse by the fact that Jisoo doesn’t know. That’s the problem. If she were saying these things to be mean, you’d know how to respond. As it is though, the only thing you can do is nod until it’s acceptable to retreat.

“We’re fine with more grandchildren,” adds Jimin’s mom. “With or without matrimony.”

“Okay, mom,” Jimin says through gritted teeth. “Can we please change the subject?”

“Yes, of course.” His dad waves a hand. “I think what everyone is trying to say though, Jimin, is that Y/N is already family. Additions are welcome in any way you see fit.”

Beneath the blanket, you grip the chair harder. The world around you dims as your vision blurs. As much as you’d like to pretend this is fine, all you can think about is what happened. You and Jimin aren’t happy, you aren’t together, and you definitely aren’t having children.

What actually happened was silence, much worse than any fighting. Conversations that should have happened, didn’t, pushed to the wayside because of your fear.

Abruptly, you stand and the blanket falls. Your head pounds as conversation around the fire ceases and heads turn to face you.

“I – I’m sorry,” you blurt, stumbling over the words. “I’m not feeling well. Too much hot toddy, I think,” you add with a feeble laugh. “I’m going to head in for the night.”

Surprised expressions stare back, but you don’t choose to linger. Turning around, you rush towards the house with your heart in your throat. Snow crunches beneath boots, light from the bonfire flickering over the path.

Time seems both fast and slow as you shrug off your coat and step from your boots. Rushing upstairs, you barely make it into your bedroom before a sob rips from your throat. After so long suppressing them, your emotions expand in a heady wave. Memories of the night you broke up – the reason why you broke up – rise to the surface, demanding to be heard.

Sinking onto the sofa, you bury your face in your palms as guilt swallows you whole. Guilt Jimin doesn’t even know the half of, and if he did, he might never have asked you here in the first place.

Feet pounding the staircase, Jimin rushes upstairs. He isn’t sure what happened but knows you well enough to know you shouldn’t be alone. As much as you like to pretend not to need anyone, there are times when you do. Times when the emotions are too much, too heavy and you can’t bear them alone.

Outside, Jimin doesn’t recall exactly what he said, only that he made an excuse to leave and disappeared. You’re what’s most important right now. Despite what he said to you on the phone, his family would understand if he confessed two pieces of bad news at once. Sure, the hockey subject is tense right now and of course, they love you, but they also love Jimin. He knows they’ll eventually come around, no matter what he decides with his contract.

You, on the other hand… Jimin doesn’t know how to fix.

Reaching his old bedroom door, he knocks once. “Y/N?” Jimin calls, leaning closer to listen. “Can I come in?”

Jimin hears you move around, a soft thump of footsteps while you ready yourself for bed. And then – an unmistakable hitch in your breathing.

Losing himself completely, Jimin barges inside.

Your head jerks up, eyes wide when you see him. Crouching next to your suitcase, you hold in one hand the sweater you wore at the fire. Jimin barely notices, zeroing in on your eyes, which are red-rimmed and swollen.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, dropping the sweater. “I’ll tell your family whatever you want tomorrow. I just...” Your eyelashes flutter when you straighten. “I just couldn’t sit there, listening t-to them talk about us and–”

Crossing the room, Jimin crushes you to him. You bury your face in his chest, your entire body hiccupping as your arms wrap around him. He feels your muscles melt, leaning against him in a way that cracks his heart. For the first time in months, things feel right.

“It’s alright,” Jimin murmurs, inhaling deeply. “It’s fine, I don’t care.”

He doesn’t. Nothing matters beyond you in his arms, this feeling that–

“Did you know…” Your voice hitches. “I thought I was pregnant?”

Jimin’s arms lock, his blood turning sluggish as time seems to slow. Sound goes in and out, his brain repeatedly trying to process this information. None of it works.

“You… what?” Jimin rasps.

“I… never mind.” Your voice tightens. “It’s not worth it.”

Disentangling from his hold, you head for your suitcase and Jimin comes to his senses. “Not worth it?” he blurts, turning to face you. “How do you figure?”

“Because,” you say, crouching down. Frantic, you yank out another set of pajamas – Jimin nearly swears, seeing their skimpy hem. Did you bring any clothes for sleeping that won’t give him a boner? “We’re broken up, Jimin. There’s no point in rehashing the past.”

Grasping your toiletry kit, you stand – and Jimin reaches out. Definitely not his proudest moment, but he grabs the kit from your hands to hold just out of reach.

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” Jimin says, gaze locked on you.

“Give that back,” you huff, attempting to grab it. “I swear, Jimin!”

“Tell me what you meant.”

“There’s no point.”

“There is a point if I did something to hurt you and never knew.”

Sidestepping Jimin, you snatch the kit from his hand. “Just forget it,” you huff, attempting to walk past him.

He steps between you and the door. “I don’t want to.”

Stumbling to a stop, you narrowly avoid his chest. “Jimin, stop,” you groan, and his hands slide to your elbows.

“When?” he demands. “When did you think you were pregnant?”

Your jaw sets, staring past him and for a terrible moment, Jimin is scared you won’t say. Scared you’ll decide you two are done and he doesn’t deserve the truth. Hell, you’re probably right. If you didn’t want to tell him back then, you probably had your reasons.

“September,” you whisper, barely audible.

Jimin finds it hard to breathe. He can’t recollect how to draw breath into his lungs, much less to expel it. “When in September,” he manages to ask.

Your gazes finally meet, and Jimin nearly regrets asking the question. “When you were at training camp,” you murmur.

September is both training camp for the NHL and the month you broke up. Jimin doesn’t view this to be a coincidence. Although he started skating with the team over the summer, training camp was a whole new level of hell for him. The rest of the team had an entire season of games and experience under their belt. Jimin felt like an outsider, at the bottom of his game both professionally and physically.

People love to think of recovery as a straight line, but it’s not. Dr. Nygard once called recovery polynomial, and that’s stuck with Jimin ever since. Full of dips and swift rises, plummets, and inclines. Training week was a plummet for Jimin. Coach was on some new kick, insisting the entire team stay for weeks at a hotel near the airport for ‘team building.’ All it meant was Jimin had no escape from his thoughts after leaving the ice. He had no you to steady him, no therapist he was seeing, and Jimin found himself drowning.

“What happened?” Jimin rasps, still holding on. “What do you mean, you thought you were pregnant?”

“I… realized my period was late and decided to take a pregnancy test. It was positive.”

Jimin’s stomach drops. “It was… positive? And you didn’t tell me?”

Your gaze narrows. “I tried, Jimin. I called you that night to talk but you were so in your head – the way you always were – that you barely heard.”

Jimin opens his mouth, and then closes it because he knows you’re right. Jimin wishes things had been different back then, wishes he could have pulled himself out of his depression long enough to talk, but he didn’t – or he couldn’t, Dr. Nygard would want him to say.

Last year’s injury shook his foundation in a way Jimin hadn’t anticipated. He had always been good at being a boyfriend, but not at relationships. Jimin was good at holding hands, saying comforting things and listening while you talked.

He wasn’t so good at confessing his shortcomings, or even acknowledging them to himself.

For most of your relationship, your problems were equal – or, if Jimin is being honest, yours were bigger than his. Then, suddenly, he was a burden. Jimin couldn’t stand, couldn’t shower, couldn’t even get dressed without you by his side. Losing his agency made him question everything he was, and he had no idea how to communicate that to you.

Jimin remembers the phone call you mentioned. He felt guilty about letting the team down that day, rushing you off the phone as penance. And then, he felt guilty about that, leading to a spiral which consumed half the night. Jimin hasn’t spiraled like that in a while, but right now, the panic feels tangible, hovering beneath his fingertips.

“And then what?” he manages to ask. “What happened?”

You stare at the wall, unfocused. “I went to the doctor that Friday. She confirmed I wasn’t pregnant, said the test had been a false positive, and I felt… confused.”

“Confused?”

“Relieved,” you clarify, gaze flicking to his. “I was relieved not to be pregnant. I want kids. Youwant kids. Even if it was unplanned, I thought getting pregnant was something I wanted, so when it happened, and I didn’t want it…” Your voice cracks as you speak. “I knew something was wrong.”

Jimin’s grip on you tightens, wishing he could go back and fix it. Wishing he’d heard what you tried to tell him, but he was so focused on his own pain, he hadn’t seen yours.

“We hadn’t talked in so long,” you whisper. “You… were so absent back then. You wouldn’t talk about anything, and I was terrified a kid would make that worse.”

A tear slips from your eye, and Jimin wipes it away. You lean into his touch, and his heart aches, that after everything, you would seek him for comfort. He only wishes he’d offered it then.

“I know I was absent. My… my therapist and I are working on communication. That’s why you said you wanted a break,” Jimin says, his voice hollow.

“Yeah.” Your eyelashes flutter. “It was.”

Exhaling deeply, Jimin lowers his hand. “Right.”

The night runs again through his mind, remembering how strange you sounded on the phone. And then Jimin recalls your face when he came home to the kitchen table. Again and again, the memory loops in his mind, a formative moment he can’t get past. You refused to even talk to him then, refused to tell him what the break was about. Just said you needed space, and that was that.

Ugly emotions bubble up, and Jimin tries to suppress them.

“I’m sorry,” you rush. “I should have tried harder to tell you, I know.”

“Yeah,” he exhales, turning away to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you should have, Y/N. Maybe if you’d told me, I would’ve –”

“You would’ve what,” you interrupt, steel entering your voice for the first time. Jimin glances sideways and finds you standing too close. “I tried for months to get you to talk to me. Why would this have been any different?”

“Because!” Jimin blurts, trying not to shout. “You thought you were pregnant.”

Eyes blazing, you take a step closer. “And? Thinking I was pregnant wasn’t why I asked for a break. I asked for a break because the pregnancy scare made me realize I couldn’t rely on you.”

Jimin reels, as though slapped.

Seeing this, some of your anger dissipates. “I was scared, Jimin. Scared that if the season didn’t go well, our relationship would change. And scared that if the season did go well, the next time it didn’t, our relationship would change. And I’d be left alone – again. Only with a child.”

All he can do is stare, wishing you’d said this when you were together. Then again, Jimin wouldn’t have been ready to hear it. Dr. Nygard says he internalizes problems, insisting on solving them by himself instead of asking for help. Ignoring a problem isn’t the same thing as solving it, though.

Unfortunately, Jimin didn’t feel the need to seek out a new therapist until after you left. Focusing on you and your pain, he takes a step closer.

“I didn’t know,” Jimin admits, somewhat broken. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well.” He sees right through your attempt to be brave. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I asked for a break, and you wanted to break up. The reason why doesn’t really matter – does it? It doesn’t change the result.”

“It matters,” Jimin says lowly. “It matters to me.”

Something unreadable flickers in your gaze. “Maybe you’re right,” you admit on an exhale. “Maybe it does matter. But… it doesn’t fix things. Does it?”

Jimin hesitates a moment too long, and he watches the moment light fades in your eyes. His throat clogs with his panic, trying to come up with an answer, but everything feels inadequate.

Nodding to yourself, you step around him. “That’s what I thought,” you say and shut yourself in the bathroom.

Jimin listens to the water turn on, the shower curtain shutting and still, he stands there. His skin feels too tight, stretched across his bones, and the one thing he knows is he can’t stay. Jimin might be better at talking about his feelings now, but there’s only so much he can unpack in one night. Besides, you didn’t seem to want to have him around.

Turning on his heel, Jimin grabs his wallet and heads out the door. Frantically texting the first person in his phone, he pauses at the landing to wait for a response.

When it comes, Jimin grabs his jacket and stuffs his feet into shoes. What he needs is a plan, someone to talk through his feelings with and there’s only one person here who fits that bill.

“You rang?” Hoseok asks, sticking his head in from outside.

“Yep,” Jimin says, opening the front door. “Let’s go out. I could use a drink.”

Part 9

Jimin’s POV

“Okay, so, explain this to me again.” Removing his hat, Hoseok smooths down his hair. “You and Y/N aren’t together… but you’re pretending to be together, because…?”

“Because.” Squinting, Jimin realizes he may have overdone it with that last shot of whiskey. For once, he’s thankful Hoseok convinced him to take an Uber. “I’m planning on extending my contract. I can’t tell my parents that and we broke up.”

“You could.” Hoseok nods. “I mean, you could, but it’d go poorly. I get that.”

Mid-sip of whiskey, Jimin nearly spits it back out. “You can’t make me laugh,” he complains, wiping his mouth with one hand. “I nearly died.”

Hoseok laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. Before Hoseok was Jisoo’s husband, he was Jimin’s good friend. Hoseok is two years older than Jimin but would always make time for the younger kids in their school. If anyone knows Jimin well enough to give advice, it would be Hoseok.

Unfortunately, prime advice-giving time was probably several shots back.

Glancing at the clock, Jimin’s eyes widen. It’s nearly 1:00 AM. “We should probably head back,” he says, although he doesn’t budge.

Hoseok nods. “Probably.”

Exhaling, Jimin traces the rim of his glass with a finger. He debates whether to say his next though out loud before deciding, fuck it.

“That’s not the only reason I asked Y/N to come,” he admits.

“No.” Hoseok pretends to be surprised. “I’m shocked.”

Jimin pretend-shoves him off the stool, missing wildly. Hoseok cracks up, teetering backwards and nearly falling for real. Draining the rest of his glass, Jimin slams this to the counter.

“I still love her,” he admits, staring at the counter. “Never stopped. This past year has been… hard.” Jimin pauses, and Hoseok waits for him to continue. “I didn’t handle things well after I got hurt. I found a new therapist after we broke up, and they’ve put things in perspective. I tend to shut down, and in doing so, I push people away.”

“You don’t say,” Hoseok muses.

“Anyways.” Jimin shakes his head. “That’s what I did to Y/N. I kept saying things were fine, but they weren’t. I didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t want her to think any less of me.”

“Why would Y/N think less of you?”

Jimin pauses since that’s exactly how Dr. Nygard responded. “I… my therapist thinks I can accept flaws in others, but not in myself. He says too much of my self-worth is tied to accomplishments, in what I am to other people. When I lost something I viewed as essential, I felt… lost. Like I had nothing else to offer.”

Hoseok’s face twists. “Jimin, that’s not true.”

“I know.” He frowns at the empty glass. “Or at least, I’m learning that’s not true, but it’s how I felt at the time. I couldn’t let Y/N in because I didn’t want her to see how lost I truly was. I didn’t want her to think… I wasn’t the guy she fell in love with.”

And yet, Jimin wonders if this was the reason you left. You said you felt as though you couldn’t talk to him anymore, like he couldn’t hear you. You never said you didn’t like who he was, or that you were scared he couldn’t play hockey anymore. You said you were scared he wouldn’t let you in again.

Seeing the horrible irony in this, Jimin lowers his head.

“Jimin.” Hoseok exhales. “Y/N didn’t fall in love with you because you’re some big hockey star. In fact,” he adds, perking up slightly. “If I remember correctly, she hated that fact about you.”

Jimin chuckles. “You’re right about that.”

“So, you concocted this entire plan, dragged Y/N here for the holidays… for what? What’s the big move?”

“You think I have a plan?” Bleakly, he laughs. “No. I don’t know. I just…” Jimin hesitates. “The past three months have been miserable. At first, I didn’t call because I thought she was better off. I thought if Y/N was so unhappy, she deserved someone better, but… it wasn’t until recently I realized I didn’t give her a choice in the matter.”

Hoseok takes a sip of his drink. “So, what you’re saying is, you want to give her that choice.”

“I want to apologize,” Jimin says. “I want to show her I’m trying, that I’m still hers if she wants me, but… I also don’t want to force any decisions on her. I just want Y/N to be happy, you know? I want her to know I want her, since I haven’t done a good job at telling her in the past.”

Although his head is spinning, Jimin feels as though a weight has been lifted. For so long, he’s kept this bottled inside.

Hoseok sniffs loudly and Jimin glances at him, startled. “Are you… crying?”

“No!” Hoseok wipes his nose. “I’m just a sucker for love, alright? Tell me what you need from me this weekend, and I’ll help.”

“Thanks, man.” Jimin reaches over, patting him on the back. “I just… want Y/N to know I’m trying. She said she couldn’t rely on me before. I want her to know that she can.”

Hoseok’s lips purse. “Okay, sure. Make you look trustworthy. Dependable. That’s a tall order, but I’m down for the challenge.”

“Can’t be any harder than convincing Jisoo to marry you.”

“What was that?” Hoseok leans closer. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me and your sister trying for our third kid.”

“Gross,” Jimin groans. “I absolutely didn’t need to know that. Let’s go home,” he declares, sliding off the stool. Leaving money on the counter, he waves at the bartender. “I’ll call another Uber, okay?”

“Great.” Hoseok joins him at the exit, looping his scarf over his neck. “But seriously, Jimin, just tell me what you need. Now that I know what’s happening, I can be your man on the inside! Finagle those magical, romantic moments for you and Y/N.”

“Just talking about it was helpful,” Jimin admits. “So, thanks for that.”

“Anytime. Just make sure you talk to her, too – okay?”

“That’s the plan,” Jimin exhales, breath frosting as he opens the door.

Starting tomorrow, he plans on showing exactly what this relationship can be. And this time, if you decide to leave, it will be with the knowledge that Jimin wants you to stay.

The next morning you wake to the smell of pancakes. Rolling to your stomach, you leisurely stretch – only to remember partway where you are and what happened. The events of last night slam into you hard enough for you to cringe as you open an eye.

Jimin is asleep on the sofa, his face smushed by cushions with one arm hanging off. You remember stirring when he came in, although it must have been late. Bitterness stains your thoughts, and you roll onto your back to block him from view. Last night, you confessed everything. The reason you asked for a break, how you felt last year – only for Jimin to disappear, rather than have the hard conversation. Again.

When you emerged from the shower to an empty room, you tiptoed downstairs with your robe wrapped around you. Jisoo and her mom were talking in hushed tones outside, and you caught enough to understand Jimin had gone out with Hoseok. Smothering the sting of rejection, you rushed back upstairs and attempted to sleep.

In the new light of day, you can examine the moment with greater clarity. Oddly, mixed in with your anger is a shred of relief. For months, you’ve wondered what Jimin would have done if he knew the truth. Having this question resolved makes you feel lighter. He said other things, too, last night that piqued your interest.

Jimin mentioned a therapist. You weren’t aware he’d gone back, having disliked the one his team provided. He has seemed different lately, not just because of the situation you’re in. Before, Jimin would never have asked you to come home with you at all. He would have never admitted to needing your help, let alone asked directly.

All this is positive and yet, Jimin still ran away. Just as expected.

Pushing the comforter aside, you rise as quietly as possible to grab your things from your suitcase. Rather than wake Jimin, you head for the bathroom down the hall. The door creaks when you open it, and you pause on the threshold.

Jimin stirs in his sleep, muttering something before he rolls over. You freeze, praying he doesn’t wake, and he eventually settles. Even so, he must be uncomfortable. The couch is barely large enough for him to lie down, a blanket half-covering him to trail on the floor. One sockless foot dangles over the cushions, and creases are embedded in his cheek from the pillow.

Before you can change your mind, you slip from the room. Jimin must have been out late with Hoseok – the least you can do is not wake him. Even the thought this causes jealousy to rear its ugly head. Why would they possibly go out last night? Hoseok is married and as far as the family is concerned, you and Jimin are dating. Jimin couldn’t possibly have been so upset he’d put that at risk – would he?

You banish this thought as you get ready. Jimin isn’t the type of guy to put you in a bad situation. Although naturally flirty, he’d never do anything to cross a line. Even if you’re not technically together anymore.

Once dressed, you head downstairs and find Jimin’s mom already in the kitchen.

“Oh,” you exhale, stopping short in the door. “I didn’t realize anyone else was up.”

Glancing at you, his mom’s smile widens. “Thought I’d get a head start! Please, Y/N, sit down. I’ll get you some breakfast.”

The clock on the wall says only seven, but you nod. “That sounds great. I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“I understand that.” She chuckles, turning to add batter to the pan. “There’s fruit on the counter if you want any. Pancakes should be ready soon.”

“I’ll take the pancakes,” you readily agree. “And put the coffee on.”

“Bless you,” she sighs.

Crossing the kitchen, the coffee maker sputters to life at the press of a button. Leaning your hip to the counter, you glance around and try not to get lost in the memories. Jimin’s parents have lived here since before he was born, and his childhood is everywhere, from photos on the fridge to height marks on the wall.

One of the reasons you used to enjoy visiting was because it pulled back the curtain. You saw the layers within, a list of the reasons Jimin was who he was. He had a supportive father, warm mother, and a strong older sister who kept him on track. His life was surrounded by love and when you came, it was easy to envision yourself in the future.

A future which no longer exists. Except – something about this thought snags in your mind. Jimin kept insisting that the reason you broke up matters. The only reason it would matter though, is if you had a future.

“Y/N…” Interrupting your thoughts, Jimin’s mom turns. “I hope I’m not overstepping by saying something.”

You straighten when she moves closer, turning the stove dial down.

“Of course, not,” you say, although on the inside, you’re panicking. “Go ahead.”

Stopping before you, she smiles warmly. “Oh, good. I just wanted to apologize if anything we said last night caused you discomfort.”

Inwardly, you shrivel. “Oh – no, no,” you hasten. “I’m so sorry for running off the way I did.”

Jimin’s mom shakes her head. “Don’t you apologize. We were the ones being insensitive, going on and on about marriage and kids. There’s absolutely no rush, Y/N. You and Jimin will figure it out eventually – if that’s even what you want.”

“Thank you,” you murmur as the coffee pot dings.

Grateful for something to do with your hands, you busy yourself as his mom returns to the stove. The two of you work in companionable silence, and you grab two mugs to fill up with coffee.

“Milk?” you ask, remembering how she takes hers.

“Yes, thank you, dear.”

Bringing this to the stove, you take a seat at the table and Jimin’s mom takes a deep sip. “Much better,” she sighs. “I hope this goes without saying, but if you ever have something you want to talk about, you can talk to me. I love my son,” she assures. “But you know I consider you more than his girlfriend. I care about you, too, Y/N.”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Thank you,” you murmur, taking a large sip of coffee in lieu of a response.

Glancing sideways, his mom sees this and sets down her spatula. “Y/N,” she says, pulling you in for a hug. Smoothing her hand up and down your back, she squeezes you tightly. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Jimin, but know that we love you – okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, blinking the tears away.

Jimin’s mom pulls back with a final squeeze. Returning to the pancakes, she expertly flips several to reveal golden-brown. “Now, you better start eating these before someone else wakes up and claims them.”

Smiling to yourself, you settle back at the table.

“Someone like me?” Jisoo asks, breezing into the kitchen. She squeezes your shoulder as she passes, lifting her brows in wordless commiseration. “Glad you’re feeling better, Y/N. Wouldn’t want you to miss the iconic ice skating!”

“Can the twins even ice skate?” you wonder.

Jisoo takes a seat across the table from you. “Not really, no.” She laughs. “But it’s adorable watching Hoseok lose years from his lifespan with worry.”

You all laugh, digging into your pancakes as conversation continues. Some of your nerves disappear, knowing you didn’t mess things up for Jimin with your abrupt exit. And as hard as the conversation was last night, you’re glad you had it. Jimin deserves to know everything that happened this fall, even if it doesn’t change anything moving forward.

With everything out in the open though, there’s nothing stopping you from wondering. From asking yourself if you’d want to get back together if Jimin asked. It’s something you haven’t allowed yourself to even contemplate, fearing you’d never see Jimin again. Now though, you find yourself thinking and the answer comes to you as though it never left.

Yes.

Miraculously, the meteorologist on Channel 9 predicts clear skies all morning, which makes it perfect weather for ice skating. Jimin volunteers to drive, mostly so there’s an escape plan if you need one. You’ve seemed fine this morning though, your anger from last night mostly dissipated.

Unlike you, Jimin woke with a hangover and firm resolution. Now that you’ve talked about why you broke up, he can work on fixing things. Jimin hoped to talk to you at breakfast, but when he opened his eyes, you were already gone. He can’t really blame you. Last night, it seemed like a good idea to talk to someone else but in hindsight, it probably seemed like he left you. Again.

Padding downstairs in his PJs – with a t-shirt, having learned yesterday when Jisoo threw a balled-up sweatshirt at his head – Jimin was greeted by the sight of you eating breakfast. Jisoo threw him a dirty look when he entered, which Jimin supposed he deserved, although not for the reasons she thought.

Hoseok fared worse than Jimin, having emerged from their bedroom only five minutes before leaving. Jimin apologized to him profusely, which Hoseok waved aside with grim determination. Indeed, he seems to have taken last night to heart, loudly proclaiming that you should drive in Jimin’s car.

Something which only left you puzzled, seeing as you were already seated on the passenger side. Hoseok promptly ushered the rest of the family into his minivan and drove away. Alone in the SUV, Jimin drives into town and drums his fingers nervously on top of the wheel.

Holiday music plays over the speakers, and you hum under your breath while looking out the window. Jimin’s heart beats strangely louder when he opens his mouth.

“Y/N…”

You glance at him. “Mm?”

“I just…” He pauses. “I wanted to apologize for last night.”

Now, Jimin seems to have your full attention, and you turn sideways to face him. “What are you apologizing for?” you ask, folding your hands in your lap.

Jimin grips the wheel. “A lot of things,” he admits. “I was thinking about what you said, and I’m sorry I let us get to the point where you didn’t feel you could talk to me. I’m sorry I stopped confiding in you. I’m sorry I made you feel alone.” A muscle jumps in his jaw. “My therapist, Dr. Nygard, says I tend to internalize when things go wrong. I shut down, which pushes people away, and I’m sorry I did that to you.”

The car goes utterly quiet, except for the hum of the engine and Josh Groban’s voice.

“… you found a new therapist?”

Jimin blinks at the road, realizing he never told you. The entire last year, you encouraged him to talk to someone, but he refused. The first therapist Jimin saw left a bad taste in his mouth, always condescending to what he was feeling.

“I did, yeah.” Jimin slowly nods. “I’m trying to reach out for help when I need it.”

Something in your voice softens the next time you speak. “Well,” you exhale. “That’s good to hear. I hope this therapist is… helping? Do you like them?”

“Yeah, I do. I mean, it’s always going to be a process – right? The next time things are too much, I’ll have to work to make sure I’m alright. But it helps, having someone to talk to.”

“That’s great, Jimin,” you murmur, a wistfulness to your words.

He bobs his head once, as the song on the radio switches to Whitney Houston. You’ve nearly reached the edge of town by the time you next speak.

“You forgot something in that list of apologies,” you say softly.

Startled, Jimin turns at the stoplight. “What do you mean?”

Determined, you set your jaw and turn sideways. “You disappeared on me last night. We got in a fight, I confessed something personal, and then you just… left.”

Jimin stares, feeling like he’s been socked in the stomach. Last night, he didn’t think about it that way, thinking you’d want time alone, but you’re right. He left you – again. Jimin inhales, the sound shaky as the light before him turns green.

“Are you saying… you wanted me to stay?”

Before you can respond, the ice rink comes into view and Jimin’s attention is required to find parallel parking. Two days before Christmas, the town square is packed. Garland is renowned for their Christmas market, tourists coming from far and wide to browse all the stalls.

Once he parks – several blocks away – you begin the long trek towards the skating rink. Jimin continues to glance at you as you walk, knowing he needs to fix this, and fast.

“Y/N,” he ventures.

Your lips tighten. “Yes?”

Jimin hesitates, then decides, to hell with his dignity. “I’m sorry I left last night. I didn’t think you’d want me to stay, but that’s not an excuse. I didn’t ask if you wanted me to go. I should have stayed. I should have stayed, Y/N,” he adds, grabbing your elbow to make an about-face.

Your lips part, staring up at him from mere inches away. Jimin’s gaze intensifies, hoping you hear the double meaning. Before he can clarify further, a squeal cuts through the crowd.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission. Author’s Note: thank you for reading so far! Continued in Part 2, here.

;boy.girl (m)

pairing— min yoongi x reader genre/warnings— smut, slight angst, romance, friends with benefits au, roommate! yoongi words— 14,139

summary— Boy. Girl. It’s as simple as that. Girl can’t get a good date—scrap that—girl can’t get a good lay, and boy is willing to help out with that… Friends with benefits seems the perfect solution, except for the fact, it’s not. It never is. Not when boy already has feelings for girl…

Listen to— boy | offonoff

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Belong (1.5: Rewind) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; kissing; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 5k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: You Found Me First by Jake Etheridge; Alone with you by Canyon City || Playlist 🎶

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jump then fall (into you) | part 1

banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut

word count ↠ 52k (split into 3 parts | pt 1. 24k)

18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., nipple play, protected sex etc.

summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. i'm backkkkk...?! with a disclaimer too:

I’ve been writing this on and off for pretty much two years so 1. it's not proofread bc i have not got the attention span to do that for 50k+ and I never got to read over what I previously wrote before working on it again so it might be a bit mismatched…?  2. I can’t say I’m hugely happy with this fic because it wasn’t a continuous workflow, it just doesn’t match the standards I have for myself but i tried and I’ll do better for the next ones which I’m excited about ;)

please interact and tell me how you find it! <3 it's been forever and i've missed you all 🥺

due to tumblr text post limitations, I’ve had to publish in three parts — links for part 2 + 3 can be found at the end.

 ↠ a part of the seven seas collab hosted by the wonderful yannie @ressjeon 🌊🥰 two years late but I made it :’)

part 1

“Gosh, Y/N, it’s a three week trip, you’re not going for a year!” 

The frustration in Jungkook’s voice has you whipping around, a pair of Valentino’s in one hand, Manolo’s in the other. “It’s Alex’s wedding cruise, Jungkook. Everyone and their parents are going to be there, mine included!” 

“Not mine!” he huffs, putting the last of your swimsuits into the suitcase open in front of him. You don’t blame him for being so frustrated, after all, he has been folding your clothes for the last hour while his single suitcase sits ready to go downstairs in the foyer. 

“Actually in case you’ve forgotten,” you start, stepping carefully through the piles of clothes in your massive closet to go towards him, “my mom has fed and even bathed you once after that time you wet yourself, so technically she’s as good as yours too.”

“That was one time, and I barely even remember it so it doesn’t count.”

“I do,” you smile, coming to stop in front of him. 

He sighs, looking down at the stilettos you’re holding. “We’ve been packing for hours already, you should’ve done this nights ago if it was gonna take this long.”

Now it’s you who’s sighing. “It’s been an hour not hours, besides we’re almost done now.”

Jungkook arches his brow, folding his arms in front of him. “Then what’re all your clothes doing on the floor?”

“They just need to go in one of the suitcases,” you smile. “See, we’re almost done.”

Unconvinced, Jungkook looks around at the mess but eventually nods. “Fine, but you can finish yourself, I’m going to eat—“

“No, wait, you can’t leave me!” you exclaim, reaching for Jungkook as your eyes go wide as a doe.

Telltale traces of a smile on Jungkook’s features let you know he was expecting this. He looks down at you, a loose curl hanging over his forehead. There was once a time when you were the taller one, but that only lasted a few years before Jungkook got in a good few inches between you. 

Both of you were just turning six when you first met although it always felt like Jungkook was a little younger to you in the first few years of your friendship, probably because of his naturally introverted nature which he more often steps out of when he feels comfortable to do so. But back then, he was just a wide eyed six year old who hid behind his mother as she came to work on her first day at the estate you call home. 

Knowing Jungkook was the same age as you and from a single parent household, your mom suggested that he could stay with you instead of his mom needing to hire someone to look after him while she worked. That was probably one of the best things that ever happened to the both of you. Jungkook became a better friend to you than many of those at your private school full of elementary school kids who wished they were ten years older than they were, and as the years went on there was nothing you didn’t do together. 

Naturally, your family got to know Jungkook well and being the little smartass he’s always been, Jungkook impressed your father so much that he helped him to apply for a scholarship position as you moved into high school. Of course Jungkook got in, and though it was only a partial scholarship, your father insisted on paying the rest of his fees which his mother found hard to accept but Jungkook promised your father to pay him back in the future. Fast forward a little more than a decade and Jungkook has paid back all of the fees thanks to being CEO of an affluent software company developed from his love of gaming. 

He struggles to fight his smile and you can see he’s contemplating going down or not, having to choose between food or you.  “What do you even need me for?” he asks, taking the smallest step closer, so small you don’t even notice. 

“Fashion advice?” you shrug, keeping an iron-like grip on his arms. 

He narrows his eyes. “You told me my fashion style is shit.”

“Was,” you correct, sliding your hands up his arms and down his chest with a satisfied smile. “Now is different though, I’ve rubbed off on you.” You glance down at his figure too, checking out his outfit. 

Jungkook chuckles as he follows your gaze. “Why would you need my help when you have yourself then, hm?”

Pouting at him, your arms slip around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. “You’re Mr Muscle, who else is gonna help me carry all this stuff?”

He pouts back sarcastically. “Is princess gonna break a heel if she carries her own suitcase?”

As you shrug, your brows remain furrowed. “Maybe, or a nail,” you say, letting one hand off his waist to show off a fresh manicure. As you wiggle your fingers ahead of him, he breaks into a smile. 

“You know you have a bunch of dudes in suits downstairs, just waiting to help you with this stuff. I’m pretty sure it’s their job.” 

“Yes, but they don’t give me fashion advice like you do,” you respond with a cheeky wink.

Jungkook takes the heels you’re holding off of you. “Here’s some advice — pack light.” He throws the heels behind him somewhere in your closet, earning a frown from you as your eyes follow where they land in the middle of your blown out closet. 

“Fine,” you sigh, looking back up at him. “I’ll lose the heels if you promise you’ll stay with me now.”

As a small smile grows on his lips, Jungkook’s arms find their way around your waist too. “Only if you promise you’ll make me a sandwich before we go?” His smile grows knowingly as he gives in to your charm — you’ve always found it’s easy to encourage Jungkook to go along with whatever you want, he just can’t seem to say no to you. 

“PB and J?” you ask with a smile that matches his.

He nods once, eyes shimmering as he still gazes at you. 

“Of all the foods you could ask for, it’s always PB and J,” you laugh.

He shrugs, letting go as you move to finish packing. “There’s nothing else I want.”

Arching a brow, you throw a few pairs of linen pants towards one of the suitcases in your closet. “We literally have a live-in chef, you know, Frederico, the guy you have a secret handshake with?”

“Yes, what of him?” Jungkook says huffing. 

“And you still want PB and J when he can make you anything?”

Jungkook steps towards your suitcase and picks up a pair of pants to roll. “I know that, but I just need some food in me and quick, so the simple option is best.”

Stepping forward, you take the pants off of him and roll them yourself. “If you would be patient enough to wait a few more minutes then you could have a sandwich that’ll fill you up for longer than half an hour.”

“And if you didn’t have more clothes than half the country combined then we would probably already be on our way to the airport,” Jungkook responds sassily, cocking his head.

“Don’t get smart with me or I won’t make your sandwich,” you sass back.

“I’ll just ask Freddie to make it for me and you don’t get Mr Muscle.”

Grumbling, you shove the rolled pants back into his hands as he laughs, taking them to place in one of the open suitcases. Not long after, all of your suitcases are packed and in the car, ready to go. 

The drive to the airport takes a little under an hour and upon arriving, the car takes you straight to the jet. Apparently you did take a little too long packing as your mom so pointedly lets you know after arriving, but luckily for you there’s a few others missing from the families you’re taking the jet with. With time to kill, Jungkook and you have a few idle chats with the others, most of whom you went to school with so the conversation comes easily but eventually you settle into the seats opposite your parents. 

“How was your drive here, darling?” your mom asks while closing her bag after a little skin TLC. 

“It was fine,” you answer, pulling out your own bag full of the skincare you deemed necessary to carry for the plane trip. 

“And how did you find it, Jungkook?” 

Jungkook shrugs. “It was good.”

“Lovely,” she smiles. “It’s going to be a wonderful trip.”

From beside her, your dad sighs, putting away his tablet. “Do we know how long the flight is to Marbella?”

“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns disapprovingly. “Don’t be such a grumpy lump before we’re even in the air.”

Jokingly, your father looks at Jungkook and you, and then gives your mom a side eye. “I just had a few important meetings that Chris accidentally scheduled for today so I’m wondering if I could still make them online.”

Dismissively, your mom waves her hand. “No work talk, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“Alright, you’re right,” your dad concedes. “Maybe to start we could get a few drinks then, eh?” He raises his brow at Jungkook who approves with a big smile and both of them flag down a flight attendant. 

Once there’s a drink in everyone’s hand, your parents settle into conversation with Jungkook and you. 

“So are you excited to see Alex, Y/N?” your father asks. 

“Absolutely,” you smile. “Though I think I’m more excited to see Sophia and Alias, it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to spend time with them.”

“Oh, Jungkook, you must be excited to see Sophia too,” your mom says with a bit of a cheeky smile.

Jungkook chuckles nervously, glancing at you though you’re sporting the same smile as your mother. “I mean, yeah, we’re good friends.”

“Well if you weren’t, things would be pretty awkward,” your dad laughs before helping himself to some food he ordered with the drinks. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, managing a small laugh.

“Oh come on, guys,” you laugh, nudging him. “She’s happy you’re coming too.”

He nods appreciatively before taking a sip of his drink. “It’s her parents I’m more worried about.”

At this, your mom laughs too. “Oh, Leon and Helena love you really, dear, it’s all just for a laugh.” She leans forwards and squeezes his hand with her usual tender smile. “Though if it really bothers you, we could have a word with them, without letting on it’s coming from you of course.”

Smiling, Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you but it’s alright, I can take the daggers I get from them,” he chuckles. “After all, what I did was pretty awful.”

“You were sixteen,” you say, patting on the last of your moisturiser. 

He shrugs. “I know, but she’s their little princess.” He looks across at you and then glances at your parents. “It’s like someone doing that to you, your parents would be mad.” 

At that, your father hums in agreement.

“Heck, I’d be mad,” Jungkook adds. 

Looking at him, he shrugs again and smiles. Before you can say anything, he carries on. “Sixteen or not, I literally left Sophia on one of the most important nights of her life.”

“Yeah, it was pretty awful at the time,” you sigh, remembering the night as clear as day.

Almost ten years ago now, the night of both yours and Sophia’s entry into society, the debutante ball. For you, the night was a bit of a blur with it being the first night Alex and you made things official in your relationship, sealing it with a first kiss and many more that evening. It was a magical and whimsical night, and although Alex and you didn’t last, your love for each other still remains as best friends and you couldn’t be happier for him getting married to his dream girl now. 

For Sophia, the night went a little differently... She'd had a crush on Jungkook for a while since, being Alex’s younger sister, she’d seen him often with you. After he found out, he asked her to be her escort to the ball. She of course said yes and everything seemed to be going perfectly until the moment Jungkook was supposed to escort her down the stairs but he had completely disappeared. Sophia was left all alone and completely embarrassed, even after Alias, the ever caring older brother, stepped in and acted as her escort. Jungkook still hasn’t told you the reason he left so abruptly that night. All you remember is not being able to reach him the whole weekend, even when you tried going to his house he was never home. When you finally saw him, he told you he didn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t. 

Of course, everyone else forgot about the incident and even Sophia forgave him after he apologised profusely and endlessly, but Mr and Mrs Cirillo were less forgiving for a while, but after many years it’s just become a joke between them. The fact that he’s invited on the cruise just shows it’s all in the past now. 

However that doesn’t mean Mr and Mrs Cirillo ever pass up an opportunity to remind him of the past… 

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N, dear,” Mrs Cirillo says, bringing you in for a hug. 

Mr Cirillo stands behind her, taking your hand as soon as his wife lets go. “How was the flight here?”

“It was good, I slept for most of it really.” Stepping away, you turn to look at Jungkook as he approaches them with a meek smile.

Mrs Cirillo smiles back, her words carrying a playful lilt. “There he is, the heartbreaker.”

Jungkook lowers his head at that and you can see his nose scrunching a little. “That’s me, unfortunately,” he says, stepping into Mrs Cirillo’s arms for a brief hug. 

When he takes Mr Cirillo’s hand to shake, the older man shows the same playfulness as his wife. “Nice to see you again, Jungkook. My favourite and least favourite man on board.” 

Jungkook chuckles and Mr Cirillo pulls him in for a hug. “Stay out of trouble, yes?” 

“Of course,” Jungkook smiles, stepping away to stand next to you as your parents walk out onto the main deck.

Their eyes light up as the old friends all greet each other and you take Jungkook’s hand and slip away together before you get roped into a conversation. 

“You alright?” you ask casually as you scan the people all on the deck.

“Good, thanks,” he responds with a gentle squeeze of your hand. He knows that you know how he finds it a little tedious sometimes every time Sophia’s parents mention the past, but he knows he messed up so he doesn’t ever complain about it. In a way, it annoys you when the Cirillo’s always mention it but you know it’s not your place to say anything, especially if Jungkook hasn’t said anything. 

Looking around, you take in many of the familiar faces while scanning the crowds for Alex or one of his siblings. There’s no unfamiliar faces on this part of the deck, and seeing all the waiters walking around offering canapés and drinks, you realise the Cirillo’s must’ve rented out this part of the deck. The excited buzz amongst everyone extends to you as you turn to look out past the balcony towards the sea, stepping towards it and taking Jungkook with you. 

Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea, enjoying the warmth glowing from the sun as a steady breeze blows. Exhaling, you turn around to Jungkook beaming. 

It seems like he was already watching you, waiting as though he knows you’re gonna say something now. Seeing you smile, his corner of his lips turn too. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Very,” you nod, turning around to look out again, lowering the sunglasses from your head to stop from squinting. 

“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls your name and you turn around, breaking into the biggest smile when you see Alex approaching, his arms outstretched. “Jungkook!” 

You meet him halfway, excitedly skipping into his hug. He hugs you tight, releasing a sigh as he lets go and hugs Jungkook. “Gosh, it’s been so bloody long, I’ve missed you guys.” 

“Missed you more, buddy,” Jungkook smiles, patting Alex’s back before he lets go. “Congrats on the wedding too, we’re well excited to be here for you.”

Alex laughs, flashing his perfect pearly smile. “Honestly, I’m happier to have you guys here. Half of the people here haven’t even spoken to me in years.” He glances around before adding, “you know how it is.” 

“Mhm,” you nod, squeezing his arm. “You’ve got us though, we’re here for you every step of the way.” 

“Thanks,” he responds, taking two drinks from a passing waiter to give to you both. “You were allowed plus ones though, when do I get to meet them?” He looks across at both of you expectantly, though you see a subtle raise of his brow matched with a small smile that seems to hint he already knows the answer.

“Well, we didn’t really get the chance to ask anyone,” Jungkook answers, looking sideways at you. “So we just thought we’d come with each other.”

“Ah.” The smile on Alex’s lips grows. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know how busy we’ve both been,” you say, shrugging lightly before taking a long sip of your drink.

“Hm, that’s it,” Alex says quietly. 

“BOO!” Large hands tap your shoulders before the man himself jumps in front of you. 

“Alias,” you squeal excitedly, returning the hug he’s already given you. Slightly more wild albeit still as focused as his younger brother, Alias is the eldest of the Cirillo siblings and has become more of an older brother to you over the years.

“You look like you’ve grown,” he says, moving back and beaming as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug. “Both of you.”

“We literally saw you like a month ago,” Jungkook chuckles. 

“Really?” Alias raises his brows in surprise. “Damn, you kids grow fast.” 

“I could say the same thing about that moustache of yours,” you say. 

He smiles smugly. “Looks good right?”

Shrugging, you lean against the balcony. “I think you looked better without it.”

Alias frowns, hand coming up to stroke his moustache subconsciously. “Really?” he asks, looking at you in time to see you raising your glass to your lips to hide your smile. 

“I knew you liked it,” he laughs. “Apparently a lot of people do.”

“Ah, Alias, no one wants to know,” Alex grimaces at his older brother.

Before Alias can defend himself, Jungkook says, “I do.” Alex and you both look at him and he shrugs. “Might grow mine out.”

Alias laughs, throwing his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “C’mon buddy, I’ll tell you all about it.”

As Alias pulls him away, Alex steps to stand next to you and both of you watch them walk away with Alias talking in a hushed tone as though no one else can find out. 

As you watch them walk away with a fond smile on your face, Alex turns to you.  “So, how have you been?”

Still absentmindedly watching Jungkook and Alias, you hum. “Great.”

“How’s work?”

“Mm, I actually just secured a deal with Park Motors last week.”

Glancing at Alex, you see his brows raise. “Impressive.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty big win for the company and dad was proud of me.” 

Alex smiles. “And were you proud of yourself?”

As Jungkook’s head disappears from the crowd, you turn to face Alex too, taking another sip of your drink. “I know people think I’m just riding off my parent’s success, which yeah, it’s true for the most part, but after doing this all myself I was pretty proud.”

“Good,” he grins. “You should be. You may be one of the most princess-ed girls I know,” he adds with a teasing lilt, “but you’re also one of the most hard working.”

Laughing, you nudge him lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” He leans against the balcony too, pulling down his shades as he turns towards the sea where the sun shines down on the horizon. “What about things with Jungkook?”

Shrugging, you take a small sip. “He’s good.”

Alex glances at you from the corner of his eye with the curve of his lips growing. “Hm, anything else?”

Levelling his face, you break into a smile. “Oh, Alex, you’re never gonna let this go are you?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Not as long as I see it’s there.” 

Straightening your expression a little, you tilt your head. “But there’s nothing there.”

“Y/N, there’s everything there,” he says, matching your tone. 

“Alex, come on,” you say quietly, traces of a smile returning. 

He shrugs. “I make a perfectly valid point.”

Turning towards the deck again, you sigh. “I don’t see it.”

“I do!” Alex almost exclaims excitedly. “And I have for the longest time.” Letting out a small laugh, he puts his arm around you and squeezes gently. “His big doe eyes used to torture me all the time when I was dating you.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook does have doe eyes but you don’t remember seeing them often while dating Alex. 

“Seriously,” Alex says, fighting his case onwards. “I dated you for what, almost a year I think and I’ve never seen anyone sulk for that long.”

“He wasn’t sulking.”

“Listen, I’m almost a married man now, Y/N, and I can tell you all the looks of love…”

When you arch a brow quizzically, Alex sighs and continues. “That boy was sulking for weeks because he hated seeing you with someone else.”

“Oh come on, maybe he had a crush in the past but he’s a grown man now and has had plenty of his own romances.”

Now it’s Alex who’s looking at you with his brow raised. “Like who?”

It takes you a moment to think of a name but a few still come to mind. “Remember Alia, the intern from my dad's company?” you ask rather smugly, although Alex’s reaction shows no surprise. 

“The girl who he went out with like five times.”

You shrug. “That counts for something.

“It really doesn’t,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, who else?”

“Hmmm… ooh, Rachel, that super hot secretary!”

“Y/N, that was a one night stand, it literally doesn’t count.”

Sighing, you rack your memory for more, and then comes the answer. “Valentina.”

Alex almost snorts, prompting you to frown at him.

“What?” you question. “That was a real romance, there were feelings there.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex almost snorts again. “The most real thing about that relationship was the Chopard watch Valentina tried to use to bribe Jungkook back to her.”

Wincing, you remember the finer details of that supposedly real romance. You turn back out to face the horizon, pulling your own shades down. “Alright, I guess I see your point.”

Gently pushing his point, Alex carries on. “Not to mention that I was your last serious relationship, which was how many years ago now?”

You simply shrug. “I’m not looking for anyone.”

Alex hums thoughtfully. “Or you’ve already ‘found’ your someone.” This earns a glare from you but Alex ignores this. “He’s practically your boyfriend already!” 

“In what way?!”

“You do almost everything together!” Alex exclaims back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had sex already!” 

“Alex!” Something in your stomach curls unbidden at the thought. “We haven’t had sex!” you whisper hotly, glancing around to make sure no one heard. 

“Sorry,” Alex mumbles, looking over his shoulder too. Luckily there’s no one nearby, everyone seems too busy engaging in their own excited conversations about the weeks to come. 

Everything you’re hearing now isn’t news to you, you know plenty of people have questioned the relationship between Jungkook and you, and you totally get why, but you’ve been friends since such a young age and that’s perfectly okay. Neither you nor Jungkook have made a move to take things further and maybe that’s just how things are meant to stay, despite what Alex seems to think. 

“Also, what friend agrees to come on a 3 week long cruise for you, knowing full well my father doesn’t miss a single opportunity to roast him.” 

“Here’s here for you, not me.”

“Actually,” Alex raises a finger, “I invited him before you and he said he would meet us in Italy because things were busy with the company. I invited you after him, and the next thing I know is Jungkook is calling me telling me he’ll be coming with you from the start.”

As your eyes narrow, you start to think of how that happened. After Alex invited you, you texted Jungkook straight away to ask if he’d come with you as a date to the wedding. As soon as he said yes, you started waffling on about how fun the trip was going to be and it must’ve been after that that Jungkook told Alex he’d come sooner than he previously planned. 

“Well, any best friend would do that,” you say simply. 

Alex pushes his lips out, brows raised. “I’m your best friend and I wouldn’t do that for you.”

“Hey!” You shove him hard but he barely moves. 

“Oh c’mon, you wouldn’t do it for me either.” Alex looks at you with a smile. 

“Yeah,” you relent. “I probably wouldn’t unless you really needed me.”

Just then, you see Jungkook walking towards you, holding a platter of something. He simply beams when you frown at him in confusion. 

From beside you, Alex raises his glass to his lips. “I’m telling you, the boy is whipped,” he says quietly before taking a sip. 

Jungkook comes within ears width before you can say anything.  “Y/N, look,” he holds out the tray he’s holding, “they have those little cracker things you like with capa, uh, capa-something.” He pushes it closer, gesturing for you to take one while looking pleased with himself.

Looking at the platter, your lips curl mindlessly into a smile. “Caponata,” you say, correcting him gently. 

It’s when Jungkook remembers the little things like this that his place in your heart grows and you’re grateful for having him as your best friend. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he smiles. “Here, I got them for you.”

Your brows furrow together as you look down. “The whole platter?”

“Well, yeah,” he says looking down too. “You like them and I’m sure there’s more going around for everyone else.”

From beside you, Alex starts coughing and you’re more than certain you hear the word “whipped” coming out of his mouth. One glance at him proves you’re right as he raises his brows before looking away. 

Jungkook, not having noticed the word Alex let slip, is eating one of the canapés before holding one out for you too. Smiling and thanking him, you take it. 

“Good right?” Jungkook asks, his mouth full as you also eat one whole. 

“So good,” you mumble, brows furrowed as you keep eating. 

Jungkook holds the tray towards Alex. “Want one?” 

“I’m good,” he smiles. “I’ll leave you two to it though, I’ve still got some guests I need to greet.” His smile seems weary though you don’t blame him, sometimes the supposed family friends in your circle don’t seem very much like friends. After saying a temporary goodbye, he takes his leave, leaving Jungkook and you to continue devouring the canapés. 

For a moment, you’re both quiet, save the sounds of pleasure from eating, then Jungkook speaks. “Sophia’s not coming with us by the way.”

Eyes wide, you turn to look at him. “What?!” you question, mouth half full. 

Jungkook takes one glance at you and chuckles. His thumb comes up and wipes something close to your lips. “She’s joining us later, from Nice.”

“Oh.” Your lips turn into a pout. “Who am I gonna hang out with?” 

“You-bo-me,” Jungkook says with his mouthful again.  

“No,” you sigh. “I don’t got you. As soon as Alias is about, you and him turn into Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

A small laugh escapes Jungkook's lips and you frown at him.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs again, placing the mostly empty tray down on a nearby table. “Look,” he takes your hands and squeezes them, “I promise I’ll stay with you, we can just hang out with Alias too.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say looking up at him. “It’s fine though, you can hang out with whoever you want. You don’t have to stay with me.”

Jungkook hides an amused smile. “I’ll stay with you, we can’t have our princess being alone,” he chuckles again, letting go of your hands to squeeze your cheeks. 

“Mm, my makeup,” you mumble, prying his fingers off your cheeks. “And you can stay with me if you really want to,” you shrug, hiding your smug expression. 

Jungkook scoffs, laughing as you put your sunglasses back on. “I changed my mind.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, and before you get another word out, Jungkook is laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in.

“I’m joking, now let’s go say hi to the Morgan’s, they’ve been looking this way since Alex was here.”

“They’re probably just judging us,” you grumble. 

Jungkook smiles, turning you around and walking with you. “More reason to say hello.”

Most of the first day is spent the same way, greeting some families who you like and some who you don’t but at least you get to do it with a glass of champagne and Jungkook by your side. By the early evening, everyone is settling into their cabins and exploring the cruise ship which feels more like a palace. 

It’s well past midnight when Jungkook is walking you to your cabin which unfortunately is on another level to yours – Alex mentioned he couldn’t get your cabins closer since Jungkook was supposed to be joining later.

“I am so ready to knockout,” you yawn, pulling out the keycard.

“Make sure you don’t forget to take your makeup off,” Jungkook says as a gentle reminder.

Turning around at the threshold of your door, you look at him as he leans against the wall opposite. “I won’t, and you don’t forget to shower, you still stink of chlorine.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly, careful not to disturb any of the neighbouring cabins who are most likely asleep. Alias and him decided it would be fun to cannonball into the deck pool during prohibited hours and subsequently ended up running away from some of the cruise crew and you just happened to be with them even though you refused to jump in because it’s breaking the rules.

“I’m making you join us next time,” he says.

“That’s never gonna happen.”

Smiling slightly, Jungkook tilts his head. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Laughing, you step out of your room towards him. “I wouldn’t try, Jeon.” Raising your hand, you pinch his nose. “You’ll just fail.”

“Or,” Jungkook raises his brows, taking your hand into his, “it could be one of the best nights you spend here, plus running away is fun,” he grins. 

“You call that fun?” you laugh. 

“Tell me it wasn't.”

You shrug. “I have fun whenever I'm with you anyway.” 

Jungkook smiles, and so do you. It’s not hard to be honest around him, it never has been. That’s probably why you’ve been best friends for so long. “So all the time?” he says. 

“All the time,” you repeat, laughing. 

Lips still holding a gentle smile, Jungkook looks down at you and for a second you wait for him to say something but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he releases a small sigh and pulls you into a hug. 

You feel your body relax in his embrace, the weariness of today’s jet lag and socialising and cheeky antics slowly melting away as you breathe in the comforting smell of his cologne. Even though it’s tainted with chlorine, his arms around you seem to make it worth putting up with. 

His hands slide up your back, patting you softly. “I’ll see you in the morning, hm.”

“Just don’t wake me up before noon,” you mumble.

He laughs, pulling away. “Breakfast ends at 11.”

Groaning, you step towards your door again. “I wish Freddie was with us.”

Chuckling quietly, he starts to make his way towards his cabin. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night,” you wave, seeing him disappear from view as the door closes. You almost collapse onto your bed but manage to trudge to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and get into your pyjamas before finally sinking into bed and falling asleep.

Knock knock knock

Knock knock.

“Y/N?"

Knock knock knock. “Y/N!”

Grumbling, you pull your pillow over your head.

There’s a few more impatient knocks before you hear Jungkook. “Come on, or I’m going down without you.”

“Go,” you groan, tossing in bed. “I’ll eat later.”

Then you hear a series of whining outside the door. “It's already almost 11, it's embarrassing going by myself you have to come with me, please.”

With one final groan, you force yourself out of bed and open the door. “I said not before noon, Koo.”

“Please,” he says, lips forming an effortless pout. “I’m hungry.”

Well you can’t say no now. Sighing, you step aside for him to come in. “Give me twenty minutes.”

Jungkook slumps onto your bed, already dressed casually in a white tee and black shorts. “You have ten.”

With Jungkook rushing you, you meet halfway and manage to get ready in 15 minutes instead. It seems the Cirillo’s spared no expense and managed to keep an entire upper deck private for all of the meals served on sea days. There’s a breakfast buffet laid out inside but before you can even grab yourself a plate, you see your mom frowning at you from her seat outside. She raises her brows and points to her wrist, her not so subtle way of reminding you you’re late.

With a big smile, you mouth sorry and she just laughs to herself, shaking her head. 

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls your name. You look over at him and he’s already standing behind a few people up for seconds, waiting his turn. Walking over, you take a plate and glance down at the table ahead of you. 

“This looks good,” you think out loud. 

“It does, doesn’t it?” Jungkook says, glancing around. He frowns at something, moving his head to get a better look. 

“What? What’s wro–?”

His eyes widen and suddenly he’s crouching enough to remove the inches difference between you, hands gripping your arms. “Hide me.”

“What?” 

“Hide me,” he repeats, the insistence in his voice clearer than before. 

Putting your plate down, you push his shoulders lower. “I am,” you whisper harshly. “But why?” you say, glancing around. 

“No, don’t look,” Jungkook says, his tone becoming something like a whine. “She’ll come over if she sees you.”

“Who?”

Jungkook groans, eyes closing. “Why is she here?”

Ignoring his request not to look, you turn around and scan the room, looking for any familiar faces while your mind goes through a mental list of names of people who could make Jungkook want to hide before a whole breakfast buffet. Just as your name arrives at a potential suspect, the woman herself comes into your view.

“Oh.” 

Tall, glamorous and even graceful, Valentina Forero struts her preppy, perfect figure, dressed head to toe in designer and a handbag so small you’re sure not even her phone can fit in there. 

Immediately, you look away from her and down at Jungkook. He’s already looking up at you with a weary expression. Your lips form an apologetic smile and he sighs, a string of curse words coming out from his mouth in the form of a hushed whisper while he stays pressed against your side trying to hide himself from view.

Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this has to be the single worst thing.

Valentina is Jungkook’s ex friend with benefits of almost a year. They met shortly after college at your grad party and they started off as casual and eventually there were some feelings involved but they never really bloomed. 

When Jungkook tried to end things after some months, Valentina had a lot to say and for some reason just didn’t want to let him go even though she wasn’t looking for something real. 

You don’t blame her, Jungkook attracts people like a magnet, but their relationship was a little more on the toxic side with some jealousy and so many stupid arguments no doubt stemming from the feelings that budded but never grew. It was better for both of them to call it quits, so they never made things official but to call Valentina anything less than an ex would be an injustice to some of the things they went through.

Stealing a glance at her again, you watch for a few seconds as she makes her way through the families, greeting each one with a bright smile.

As she moves, Jungkook moves too, trying to stay hidden from her view behind you. His head presses against your arm, cheek almost against your left boob.

“Um, Jungkook,” you say, smiling. “I get you’re trying to hide but uh, I don’t think this is a good look…”

“What?” he says, still distracted as he glances towards where Valentina is.

“We’re standing at a breakfast bar on a family cruise and your face is pretty close to my boobs.”

He looks up at you, eyes widening when he realises. “Oh, sorry.” He stands straight, turning to face the bar instead. 

“It’s cool,” you answer, picking up your plate again and nudging him to move forward. “”I’m sure we’ve given the Collins something to talk about for today.” Turning to your right at the eyes ogling you, you smile plastically at Mr and Mrs Collins.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters again absentmindedly as he slowly fills his plate.

“Jungkook,” you say, nudging him again as you fill your own. “It’s gonna be fine, there’s so many people here I’m sure you won’t see each other that much, and even if you do, you have me.” You’re already beaming when he looks at you, and his own eyes crease in the corners and he smiles too. “Thanks. I guess you’re right but please don’t ever let me be alone with her.”

“I won’t,” you laugh. “Although once she knows you’re here, I’m sure she’ll try to hookup with you at least once.”

“I hope not,” Jungkook sighs. “She’s not a bad girl but I just don’t wanna go back there, y’know?”

“Mhm, I know,” you say, turning towards the table your parents are seated at. “But what I don’t know is how we’re gonna get to sit without her seeing you.” You nod in the direction of your parents.

Jungkook glances around. “Let’s go sit with Alex and Thalia,” he says, nodding in the opposite direction.

Stealthily, the two of you make your way out onto the deck and approach Alex and his fiancee unseen.

“Oh, Y/N,” Thalia beams, leaning in for a hug as soon as she sees you. “You look beautiful.” 

You snort. “I woke up half an hour ago, I definitely look awful.”

“Absolutely not,’ Thalia says with a gracious wave of her hand before Jungkook gets up to greet her too. “You both look lovely and I'm so happy you’re here!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling at both her and Alex. “We’re even happier to be here and so excited for you.”

“Thank you, angel,” she winks.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Alex asks quietly, frowning as he watches Jungkook carefully. Glancing to your right, you also notice Jungkook is hunched over his food.

“You’re just drawing more attention to yourself like that,” you let him know before turning back to Alex. “Valentina is here,” you say with a small raise of your brow and both Alex and Thalia immediately let out a little “ah”.

Thalia winces apologetically when she glances back at Jungkook. “I do believe that may be on me. My mother is in the same club as her mother so it seems an invitation was deemed non-negotiable, unfortunately,” she adds, placing subtle emphasis on the last word.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, I was gonna end up seeing her again eventually at some point.”

Alex coughs, his expression changing. “I do believe that time is coming sooner than you want though.”

Jungkook frowns but you understand what Alex means, as does Thalia as you both look up just in time to see Valentina a few feet away, approaching your table.

With a smile that’s far too innocent for her, she stands at the edge of the table closest to Jungkook. “Well, hello there.”

Alex, being the sweetheart he is, is the first to respond to her greeting, and without surprise, Thalia follows quickly. “Thank you for coming,” Alex says as he gives her a quick hug.

“Thank you for having me.” Valentina steps to the side to greet Thalia too. “And congratulations, I’m so happy for both of you!”

“Thank you,” Thalia says with a genuine smile. As she takes her seat, you get up to greet her too. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Val,” you say as you meet her in a brief hug, although you can’t say you mean it but you hold no animosity towards her. 

“You too, Y/N,” she winks. 

Before she even releases you, Jungkook is getting up and already avoiding eye contact with her. “Hey,” he says, just as she leans towards him too. 

“Hello, Jungkook.” When she gives him a hug, it’s a little longer than your own but Jungkook doesn’t push away despite his expression looking like he wants to. 

Alex, Thalia and you have to fight to keep your smiles contained.

“Gosh, it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Valentina says as she steps back and takes a seat. 

“I guess,” Jungkook says, showing little expression as he sits back down and resumes eating his breakfast. 

“Oh, come on, it’s been almost two years.” She gives him a knowing expression before flicking her hair behind her shoulder with a flamboyant flair that’s signature for Valentina. “I’m sure you missed me.” She leans her elbows on the table. “I know I’ve missed you.”

Seeing Jungkook’s constipated expression, you step in to help him out. “We all missed you, Valentina,” you smile. “It’s impossible not to.” That’s not a lie either, although she was a big personality to deal with sometimes, she still knew how to have fun and was great to talk to. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, returning your smile before turning her attention back to Jungkook. “You still look as good as you always have too, Kookie.” She leans forward and squeezes his bicep, maybe one too many times. “You’re still going to the gym I see.”

Jungkook stiffens next to you, meanwhile, your eyes are fixated on her hand on his arm. In a gesture of support, you discreetly slip your hand behind his elbow. 

Sitting across from you, your friends both notice this. Then, the cogs in the brilliant mind of Alexander Cirillo turn and he comes up with what can only be a genius idea. Perhaps it's all the romance he’s been experiencing recently with his own fiancee, but Alex is convinced that this can only have one outcome, the only possible outcome – the one that’s been written in the stars since Jungkook and you met so many years ago, he’s sure of it.

Beaming, Alex looks at Valentina. “Don’t they look so good together?”

She pauses then frowns. “Together?”

Your own expression matches Valentina’s as you glance at Alex too. 

“Yes, together,” he repeats as a fact, smiling at Jungkook and you before looking at Valentina.

“You’ve heard, no? Jungkook and Y/N are together.”

From next to you, Jungkook swallows hard and your hand subconsciously tightens around his arm. Both of you are staring at Alex and he just gives you a subtle raise of his brow. 

“Oh, my,” Valentina smiles, and although there’s some kind of genuinity to it, there’s more you can see but haven’t got the mental capacity to try to decipher right now when you’re still trying to figure out what Alex is doing.

 “I should’ve known this was gonna happen, you always were inseparable,” she says with somewhat of an eye roll. 

Jungkook laughs awkwardly, but he’s not stupid and he knows Alex isn’t either. This is one surefire way he can keep Valentina and any of her advances away from him for the next three weeks. All he has to do is pretend to be dating you… how hard can that be?

“Yeah, I guess it was meant to be,” he says, sounding a little stilted. 

You’re still sitting a little dumbfounded but Thalia also gives you an expression that tells you to improvise better. The most you can manage is a meek smile. 

Jungkook responds almost as awkwardly, putting his arm around you which makes Alex laugh.

“Oh, don’t be so coy,” he says, sneaking in a wink to you as Valentina’s eyes remain locked on you both. “It’s been almost what? Eight months?”

“Uh, yeah, almost,” you answer, suddenly feeling shy with the way Jungkook’s hand is gripping your waist. 

It’s not like he’s never had his hand on your waist before — his face was all up in your boobs only fifteen minutes ago — but the feeling remains. It makes your cheeks go warm, your heart races a little faster and your fingers go fuzzy. 

You’re sure it’s showing on your face but Valentina doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she must think it’s down to you finding this awkward. 

“Well, congratulations to you too then,” she says, wearing a smile that doesn’t actually seem anything less than genuine, but you’re aware there’s more to her words.

“Thank you,” Jungkook and you say in unison. 

Valentina nods, taking it as her cue to leave. “I’ll see you all around, and except for the engaged couple who get a pass, let’s keep the pda to a minimum please,” she adds airily, words directed to Jungkook and you as she saunters off. 

“Can’t promise anything with these two,” Alex calls out after her.

When he looks back at you, he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thalia purses her lips in a smile that resembles a child trying not to laugh while they’re getting told off. 

Turning to them, you burst. “What the hell was that?” you say hotly, seeming more flustered than anything else. 

Alex shrugs. “Sorry, it was the best thing I could think of.” 

“It could be worse,” Thalia adds with a smile that’s supposed to be apologetic but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s finding this just as amusing as her fiancé. 

Then, Jungkook shifts from beside you and only now do you realise you’re still holding his arm. “Well,” he says, briefly glancing down as you let go, “I guess we’re dating now.”

With a small raise of your brows, you shrug lightly and try not to show any signs of how flustered you’re feeling. “I guess so.”

When you meet his gaze, for a second you go still and think of what it means, how might you be expected to act with Jungkook — but really, it doesn’t seem that much different from how you already are now. Except of course, if you ever had to indulge in any public displays of affection, cheek kisses, lingering hugs, maybe even a peck on the lips…  

The thought of it all sets loose a swirl of butterflies in your stomach and only then do you realise that your gaze is still locked on Jungkook, and he too, is still staring at you. 

With those butterflies still swarming, you abruptly break away from his gaze and notice the tips of his ears are turning pink. You wonder if he’s thinking the same as you right now. 

“See, already believable.”

Alex’s voice interrupts your thoughts and when you turn to flare at him, he’s got a smug smirk on his face. 

“You’re supposed to be smart,” you say with a sigh, pushing down the butterflies that it almost seems like Alex knows all about. “Couldn’t have come up with something smarter?”

“This is smart,” Alex says with a hint of sass.

“How?” you sass back. 

Leaning back, he puts his arm around Thalia as his smirk grows into a smile. “You’ll see, just give it some time,” he sighs, punctuating his sentence with a wink. 

The end of the first night in Cartagena is celebrated with a formal dinner at a private venue with the most beautiful view of the coast. 

The Cirillo’s had a special menu created of authentic foods from the town and the dishes were nothing less than exquisite. So much so that Alias and you are both slumped on a hammock on the balcony with bellies full and happy. A few of the guests walk past and side eye you both, probably because Alias has ungraciously undone the top button of his suit pants but it doesn’t bother either of you. 

“Probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” you mumble, looking up at the night sky.

“We’ve still got dessert,” Alias sighs, patting his belly. 

“Well sitting there isn’t going to help,” Jungkook’s voice says from behind you. 

Turning your head, you smile when you see Jungkook with two dessert plates in his hand. He comes and sits next to you, handing one to each of you.

Alias still manages to devour his serving in silence, but you take a little longer to eat, wondering if Valentina might be somewhere near now that Jungkook is here; you’re certain she’ll be keeping a closer eye on you both so you ought to be making a conscious effort to act more like a couple but you’re not really sure what else to do. Jungkook bringing you dessert seems couple-ish enough, even though it’s what you would do on a usual night anyway.

The three of you fall into a comfortable silence and you give Alias the rest of your dessert to finish as you collapse into the hammock again. As you do so, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours and immediately you glance down at your hands, noticing how your arms and thighs are touching too. Again, it’s nothing unusual for you, but you start to wonder why it feels a little different now you’ve noticed it.

“Don’t look now,” he says, voice barely a murmur, “but she’s watching us.”

When you hum quietly in acknowledgement, his fingers brush the back of yours tentatively again and for some reason unrelated to the wind that’s blowing, you feel your skin prickling. Releasing a small breath, Jungkook curls his hand, fingers slipping between yours. The pads of your fingers press against him and you return your focus to the night sky above rather than the weird way your heart is beating now.

From your other side, Alias lets out a satisfied sigh before sitting back beside you. “So,” he says without missing a beat, “what’s up between you guys?”

“Hm?” You look at him with a small frown.

“You heard me,” he repeats with the signature boyish grin that he and his brother share. It’s enough to let you know that he knows.

“We’re, uh, together,” Jungkook answers.

Alias snorts. “You gotta sound more convincing than that, Jungkook.”

“I’d like to see you pretend to date someone,” you say, nudging his side.

Shifting to face you, Alias raises a brow. “That’s easy, watch and learn, lover boy.” He leans closer, arm moving across your chest to touch some hair behind your ears.

You get his point – Alias is close enough to lean in and kiss you if he wanted to, and the small action seems intimate enough since you’re almost laying down with him beside you.

His hand gently traces down your cheek and you giggle, finding it funny as he keeps glancing at Jungkook who shoves him back before he goes any further.

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, somehow shifting even closer to you.

When you glance at him, you can’t help but giggle at his expression. He looks a little annoyed, and although you don’t think it, anyone else might think he’s crossed the fine line to jealous — Alias certainly does. 

“Alright, I know, hands off your girlfriend,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. 

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook mutters, “Yeah, whatever.”

Alias just chuckles, leaning back and resting his palm behind his head but unlucky for him, his moment of rest is short lived. 

“Oh for goodness sake Alias!” The hushed whisper of Mrs Cirillo has all of your heads turning. She appears out of nowhere beside the hammock, a look of shock and horror on her face. “Is there a reason you’re basking in the sunset with your trousers half undone?” 

“Actually,” Alias says unbothered, holding up a finger, “only the zipper is undone, so by the length of the trousers, mother, they’re nowhere near half undone.” 

Frustrated, she glances around. “People must be thinking all sorts.” She looks at Jungkook and you who smile awkwardly, sitting up straight as you hope not to get scolded. 

Mrs Cirillo is no stranger when it comes to teaching etiquette and given the many years of friendship between your families, she’s definitely not a stranger to teaching you a few things, and over the years, Jungkook too. 

She sighs when she looks at you. “Darling, you look beautiful. Jungkook, you too, please teach my son a thing or two.” She sighs again impatiently and Alias grumbles next to you as he does up his zipper. “Now, when you’ve made yourself decent, please come with me, your father wants you to meet someone,” she says, not waiting for a response.

Alias groans. “Who? I thought I had met them all.”

“Not this one,” Mrs Cirillo replies airily as she’s still walking away. “He’s just joined us tonight.”

Like the dutiful son he is, Alias gets up and follows his mother, though not without groaning about it some more.

Jungkook and you watch him go, but just like Alias, your moment of rest is short lived.

“Um, Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice sounds apprehensive and when you look at him, his expression seems the same. He’s stretching his neck and looking out towards the opposite direction of the balcony towards the main hall. “Is that… Valentina, with your parents?”

Standing up to get a better look, you realise that Jungkook is right. Valentina is mid-way greeting your parents, your mom leaning in to give her a hug. 

Looking down at Jungkook, you both realise at the same time – your parents don’t know about the two of you. 

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead – with zero regard for the high heels on your feet – he grabs your hand and rushes you towards them.

“Ow, wait, Jungkook, slow down!”

“Can’t,” he says, although you feel his pace slow down a little. “She’s gonna say something, of course she is.”

Jungkook isn’t wrong and the look on your parents face as you’re less than a few feet away from them tells you that Valentina has just said it. Your dad looks confused and your mom is frowning, her head tilting in the way it does when she’s not sure she believes something.

“Mom!” 

She turns her head to the sound of your voice, as does Valentina and your father.

“Dad,” you smile, catching your breath as Jungkook and you stop in front of them. 

Jungkook chuckles awkwardly next to you and you feel his hand go around your waist. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt…” he purposely avoids Valentina’s gaze. “We just, uh,” he glances at you, “we had a question.” 

“Well, so do we,” your dad starts, looking at you with the same confused expression. “What—”

“The dresses for the couple dance!” you blurt, knowing exactly what your father was about to ask. It would totally blow your cover if it seemed like your parents didn’t know about Jungkook so you need to come up with something fast. “We need to know the colours of the dresses for the couple’s dance, for the wedding.”

If your dad looked confused before, he looks almost dumbfounded now. “A couple’s dance?”

“Y/N, what couple dance?” your mom asks somewhat impatiently and you’re certain she wants to ask the same question your dad was about to, which is most likely about Jungkook and you.

“The one for the wedding,” Jungkook answers for you. “All the couples are doing a dance after Alex and Thalia, you know? At the wedding.” He squeezes your waist gently and you chuckle.

“Exactly,” you say, taking your mom's hand discreetly. “Since Jungkook and I are dancing together, well, he needs to know the colour of my dress and I’ve forgotten.” You say it with no hesitation but with the way you’re squeezing her hand repeatedly, your mom still seems confused.

She glances at Valentina who is now staring at Jungkook’s hand right around your waist, before glancing back at you. 

Taking advantage of Valentina’s momentary lapse in attention, you give her a subtle raise of your brow and hope that mother-daughter telepathy is a real thing. 

“A couple’s dance?” your father asks again. “Honey, I didn’t know about this,” he says to your mom. 

“Well, yes, I suppose I forgot to tell you,” she says, squeezing your hand back and you let out a grateful sigh of relief, as does Jungkook. 

“Y/N, your dress is periwinkle blue for the party,” she says to you before looking at Jungkook. You can see the apprehension in her expression though it’s only noticeable to you. “Jungkook, sweetheart, I’ll make sure your suit is matching with Y/N’s of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods, lips pursed. 

Together, you glance at Valentina who already seems bored. 

“Well, I’ll come find you later, Mrs L/N,” she says, already turning to step away. 

Your mom says a quick goodbye before Jungkook and you are left alone with her and your dad. 

“Is there a reason I didn’t know about this couple's dance?”

Letting out a small laugh, Jungkook pats your dad's shoulder. “Sorry, we made that up, there isn’t a couple’s dance.“

“There isn’t?”

“No, there isn’t,” your mom answers, her brow raises as she looks between Jungkook and you. “But what I would like to know is why we just had to lie and why on earth is Valentina congratulating your father and I about you two and your relationship?”

“It’s because of me,” Jungkook answers immediately which prompts a look of surprise from your parents. “I just wanted an easy way to keep away from Valentina and saying I’m with Y/N was the best way for me to do it.” He lowers his head looking a bit ashamed. 

“Well it was actually Alex who said it first,” you say, stepping forward. “He pretty much roped us into it with Valentina right there, we were clueless.” You take Jungkook’s arm and smile at your parents. “It’s just a little white lie and honestly as long as Jungkook and I are okay with it, then it’s harmless.”

“And you are okay with it?” your dad asks. 

“Sure.”

Your mother frowns, the apprehension still not having left her expression. “And Jungkook… you’re okay with it too?”

Jungkook nods. “Very okay with it.”

“Alright then, but just be wary.” Your mom glances between you both. She opens her mouth as if to say more but shakes her head instead. “Who else knows?”

“Alex, Thalia, Alias, and now you both.”

“Hm, if you want to keep it a secret then I would keep it to that. The more people who know the more likely it is to come out.”

“Yes, I agree,” your dad says, frowning as he thinks. “Although I do think it would make sense to tell Leon and Helena.”

Your mom agrees with him. “I suppose it does but it’s up to you both.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, brows raising. It’s not unusual for your parents to share something with the Cirillo’s, but when it’s something like this, a lie, you don’t imagine your parents telling them.

Jungkook shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, they’re coming over now.”

Your mom looks up, smiling as they come over. “Yes, Y/N, after all it’s not really such a big lie. Jungkook and you do everything together anyway, how much more different can this be?”

“Right,” you nod, confused by the sentiment those words make you feel — perhaps Alex isn’t so wrong, maybe you do do everything with Jungkook. It must be giving the wrong idea to people… 

Though that doesn’t matter now since you need to seem like you’re dating him. 

“Just who I was looking for,” Mrs Cirillo beams as she approaches, but instead of looking at your mom, she’s looking at you.

“Me?” you ask, surprised. 

“Yes.” She looks at Jungkook too. “And you.”

Jungkook shares the same expression as you. “Me?”

“Oh, yes, and don’t act so shy either of you.” Her smile seems rather cheeky, as does Mr Cirillo’s who stands beside her. “What’s this I hear about you two dating now, hm?”

“Oh.” Smiling hesitantly, you prepare yourself to tell them the truth as well. This feels a bit different though because you can see the excitement in Mrs Cirillo’s face, even in Mr Cirillo. 

“I mean it’s about time,” Mr Cirillo says with a deep chuckle, looking at your parents to agree. 

Jungkook looks rather pained as he looks between them both. “Who told you?”

“Alias, of course,” Mrs Cirillo says. “He said you’ve been keeping it a secret for some time though I don’t see why, this is wonderful news!” 

She waves her hand with the statement and with it, a part of you suddenly feels like you’re being let down by yourself. It’s odd to see them so happy for Jungkook and you, only for it not to be real. 

You don’t blame them though — you’ve only been pretending to date Jungkook for a day but you’re already starting to see Alex’s point a little bit more. Having Jungkook by your side just feels right. 

Come to think of it, if anyone else asked you to pretend to be their girlfriend for a few weeks, you’d definitely say no. It would be hard to act so close with someone not only emotionally but physically, whereas thinking of the way Jungkook was so close to your side just a little while ago on the hammock, fingers curled around yours, you feel yourself coil at even the thought of being with anyone else. 

That’s not unusual though, right? The only reason you can’t imagine it with anyone else is because Jungkook is your best friend. He’s the guy you’re most comfortable around and so you feel safe with him. Thoughts pausing, your gaze drifts to him as you briefly zone out from whatever joke Mrs Cirillo is making. 

Jungkook still looks on hesitantly and the way his bottom lip moves, you can tell he’s waiting to say something. As soon as he sees his chance and quickly gets a word in. “Oh, well, actually, Mrs Cirillo, it’s not really real.”

She looks towards him and frowns a little. “What do you mean?” There’s disappointment in her tone that you (for some unknown reason) can relate to.

“It’s more of a make believe relationship, if that’s one way to put it,” your dad answers albeit looking confused himself. 

Mr Cirillo appears to be on the same brainwave as your dad as he looks confused too. “That’s absurd. I believe it very much.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs Cirillo says, nodding. “Who wouldn’t?”

Pushing aside your own confused feelings, you help clear up this mess. “What we’re trying to say is that it’s not a real relationship.” You glance at Jungkook who looks at you and nods. “We’re just pretending to date.”

“Oh.” Their expressions fall, small frowns replacing the excitement in their eyes. 

“Why would you do that?” Mr Cirillo asks. 

“My ex is on the cruise,” Jungkook answers. “You probably remember her, Valentina?” 

There’s a few seconds of quiet until Mr Cirillo finds the name familiar. “Ah, yes, tall girl, Forero if I’m not mistaken?”

Jungkook nods, lips pursed. 

“So she’s the reason you’re doing this?” Mrs Cirillo gestures between Jungkook and you. 

Jungkook nods again. 

She sighs quietly. “Honestly, it all seems a bit fuddy duddy, Valentina is harmless. There’s better ways to keep someone away, Jungkook, wouldn’t it be better to just ask her to stay away from you?”

“That might come across as more rude than this,” you say with a shrug. “Also, we ought to mention that this was all Alex’s idea.”

“Alex?!” Mrs Cirillo exclaims. “Did he even ask you first?”

“Nope,” you shake your head with a smile having absolutely no qualms throwing your best friend under the bus. 

“Oh, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Mrs Cirillo turns and reaches for her husband's hand. “Leon, I do believe that boy is getting almost as troublesome as his older brother.”

Mr Cirillo laughs. “Oh, it’s just a little fun, besides, having Jungkook and Y/N pretending to play house can’t be all that bad.” He turns to Jungkook and you and winks.

You return his cheek with a smile. “It’s actually easier than it looks.”

“I’m sure it is,” he quips with a quick raise of his brow. His smirk seems telling but you don’t think anything of it at the moment as you feel Jungkook’s hand on your arm.

“Just don’t tell anyone please,” he says, chuckling nervously.

“Of course not,” Mrs Cirillo says. “I think Alex may have been onto something anyway.” She glances towards your mom and they share a smile. “Let’s get something to drink, hm?”

Your mom laughs, taking her arm. “Yes, please, I need one.”

Together, they walk off and to you it looks like they’re high schoolers sharing secrets again — you’re sure they’re going to have lots to talk about again today. 

Mr Cirillo chuckles as they go off. “Three guesses what they’re talking about,” he says quietly to your dad who shares a smile with his friend before they both turn to Jungkook and you.

“Well, I think I’m going to go and look for more dessert,” you say, slowly taking a step back to excuse yourself and Jungkook. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna do that too,” Jungkook says, nodding his head at your dad and Mr Cirillo.

“Of course, I’ll see you later on,” your dad smiles. His eyes fall to where Jungkook’s hand is holding your arm and his smile grows just a little wider but before you can think anything of it, Mr Cirillo makes a comment.

“That’s a nice suit you’re wearing, Jungkook.” He nods, looking visibly impressed.

“Thanks.”

Mr Cirillo continues. “I remember when you would wear your suits from those high street stores with the cheap labels but look at you now, kid.”

Pausing in your slow retreat, you blink. You’ve known Mr Cirillo all your life so you know that the comment really holds no ill intent, and also bearing in mind the fact that you know just how much he has come to admire Jungkook and cares for him as much as he does for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for Mr Cirillo to make a comment like that.

Jungkook only smiles, though he doesn’t need to say anything for anyone to see that the backhanded compliment isn’t appreciated. He continues to step away but now you’re rooted firmly in the spot.

“Well with a personality like his and far more brains than most people combined, Jungkook has never needed material to make him look good, wouldn’t you agree, Mr Cirillo?” Your expression is friendly enough but your tone? Not so much.

He smiles awkwardly, immediately having understood his mistake. “Does that mean the opposite for myself?” he asks lightly.

“Oh, I’ve never thought so,” you say, smiling plastically. “Those words came from your own mouth.”

Mr Cirillo laughs. “You’re a sharp one, Y/N. That's why I like you a lot.”

“Likewise, Leon,” you wink, reaching for Jungkook’s arm. “Now we’ll be off.”

Mr Cirillo still chuckles and you catch your dad smiling at you as you walk away with Jungkook.

“Did you just call him ugly?” Jungkook asks with a small laugh once you're out of earshot. 

“I didn’t call him anything,” you shrug.

He laughs again, coming to a stop with you near the dessert table where you both browse the selection. “You know I could’ve answered myself though,” he says after a moment. 

Taking your pick, you turn to him with a small pout. It’s not the first time someone has made a comment about Jungkook that has annoyed you more than him, and you know that Jungkook prefers to pick and choose his battles wisely, unlike you always feeling as though you have to say something. 

“I know, sorry,” you wince a little. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, taking a bowl of Eton mess. 

Together, you start walking towards the same hammock you were previously sitting at.

“I actually think it’s kinda cute,” he adds.

Your brows raise inquisitively. “Having me as your knight in shining armour?”

He shrugs, taking a spoonful into his mouth as you both sit down. “More like my princess with her many privileges.” His lips curl into a smile as he says it.

Laughing, you lean back comfortably into the hammock. “Well, of course, Mr Cirillo wouldn’t dare say anything to me.”

“And no one else other than you would insult Mr Cirillo to his face.”

Holding up your fork, you laugh again. “I only implied, there’s a difference.”

Jungkook hums, leaning back next to you. He takes a big spoonful into his mouth, eating this slowly while you steal some of his. Swallowing, he sits up a little beside you. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Looking up at him, you frown. “Do what?”

“Pretend to date me.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

He shrugs. “If it makes you uncomfortable, or even if you just don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, sitting up with him.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, watching your expression for any signs of a lie. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you repeat.

With those words, Jungkook seems to relax. “Okay.” Faint traces of a smile appear on his face as he leans back. 

“The soap here smells amazing,” Thalia says, bringing her hands to her nose to sniff again a few times after drying them. 

Tossing your used hand towel in the hamper, you take a sniff too. “Mm, it does. I smell coconut.”

“And yuzu,” Thalia says, still inhaling the smell. 

Laughing, you pull her hands away from her nose as you walk out of the washroom together. 

The corridor is dimly lit as you walk back towards the restaurant but you’re very impressed by the interior, the burgundy and golden interior of this part of the venue complimenting each other well, especially with the many plants lining the corridors. 

“Where’s Alex?” you ask.

“Somewhere around here,” Thalia answers. “Honestly I lost him an hour ago after he went to check out the golf course here.”

“There’s a golf course here?” you ask, surprised. Though really you don’t know why you’re surprised, walking to the bathroom was a mission on its own, this place is huge. 

“Yeah they have everything, tennis courts, basketball, there’s even a riding school.”

At that, your ears perk up. “Are the horses available to hire?”

Thalia turns to you with a smile. “You wanna go for a canter?”

“Can we?” You ask, eyes lighting up too. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been riding.”

“We’ll have to ask but I’m sure my dad could sort something out for us. Although we have booked a resort for when we get to Barcelona and later on in Malta too. They’re renowned for their riding instructors.”

Laughing, you walk around the next corner together. “How have you booked resorts while we’re on a cruise? I bet Mrs Cirillo had something to do with it,” you add, knowing that she always has to have everything and the best of it for her kids.

Thalia nods with a smile. “My mom and yeah, Helena. They’ve been planning this for a year, of course there’s going to be something for everyone.” 

“Strippers?” you ask, brows raising.

“Except that.”

“Hm, fair,” you say, frowning as you walk around another corner. “Anyway, I don’t really care for the instructors but it’ll have to be Barcelona. I just wanna ride, it’s been so long since I last went.”

Thalia agrees. “Sure, I’ll ask my dad, I’m pretty sure he’s already friends with the owner of the one in Barcelona so it should be easy.”

“Great,” you smile, excited by the thought, though your smile turns into a frown as you realise you’re walking by the same door you just walked out of a little while ago. 

At the same time, Thalia slows down. “Are we lost?” she asks.

Looking up at the women’s washroom sign, your frown deepens. “Yeah, I think we’ve just gone in a circle.” You look up and down the corridor, taking a few steps in the opposite direction from which you just came to follow a different path. “Maybe we should try going left from here instead?”

“There really should be a clearer exit,” Thalia huffs. “My feet hurt.”

Laughing, you glance back at her. “I don’t think anyone was taking into account the fact that people might be walking in 6-inch heels down these corridors– oh.” Mid-sentence, you bump into someone as you’re walking around the next corner. “Sorry,” you say, looking up at the guy as you feel steady hands on your arms to stop you from stumbling. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says at the same time, looking down.

Oh. 

His brows knit together before a smile breaks out on his face. “Y/N?”

“Lawrence!” A smile appears on your face embarrassingly fast. “Hi!”

He chuckles softly, taking a step back and taking his hands with him. You don’t know whether to appreciate the sweetness or be sad they’re gone.

Lawrence Goldman is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid eyes on with a personality to match, and he was your high school crush for years. He was everyone’s crush to be honest, but even in uni, you never were able to stop swooning over him, but that’s all it’s ever been, a crush. For some reason, you could never let yourself take it further despite him showing interest a few times. 

“It’s been so long, my gosh, how are you?” he asks, eyes skimming your figure. “You look absolutely amazing,” he adds without a second thought.

“Hey again,” Thalia says, appearing beside you.

Lawrence gives her a smile, his attention quickly returning to you.

“I’m great,” you beam, “how are you? I’m surprised to see you, I thought you were working in Singapore?”

“I am,” he nods before looking at Thalia. “Well I was, but there was no way I was gonna miss this one’s wedding.”

Thalia laughs, putting her arm around him briefly. “Love you for it, Goldie.”

Lawrence rolls his eyes at the nickname and you smile. Thalia and Lawrence attended the same prep school before reuniting in college, and it’s through Lawrence that Thalia was introduced to Alex and the rest of you — your world is apparently a very small world so Lawrence being here really shouldn’t be a surprise to you, but with everything else going on, you may have forgotten about Lawrence. 

“I’ve only just joined because I had a meeting I couldn’t miss yesterday,” he adds, eyes skimming down your figure once more while he thinks you’re still smiling at Thalia but you definitely don’t miss it. 

“Ah, I see.” You can’t help it when you mirror his actions, noting how the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving a peak of the chain he’s always worn since he Longbottom-ed — he clearly knows the effect it has. “So you’re joining us for the rest of the cruise?” When your eyes meet his again, his lips curl into a smirk. 

“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll be here.”

Noticing Thalia glancing between you both, you realise you ought to stop whatever weirdness is going on right now before she thinks there’s something between you, not that she won’t ask you herself anyway. 

“Well that’s great,” you smile, taking a step closer to Thalia’s side.

“Mhm, I’m looking forward to spending time with you,” he says.

Your response is on the top of your tongue — “so am I” — and you intend to say it with a flutter of your lashes, but before you can say anything, Thalia answers for you. 

“We all are,” she grins, hand winding around your waist where she squeezes with a light force when she says the next words. “Including Jungkook and Alex.”

For a second you’re confused but the mention of Jungkook sparks your memory and you remember everything that’s happened in the past few days.

Jungkook and you are dating — you realise now why Thalia interjected and she was right to do so, otherwise you might’ve made a silly mess by opening yourself up to flirting with Lawrence. 

“Oh, yes,” you answer, perking up. “Jungkook will definitely be happy to see you I’m sure, it’s been a while since we all met last.”

“Yeah?” Lawrence casually responds. 

“Of course,” Thalia says with a wiggle of her brows. “Y/N is his girlfriend, she would know of course.”

As you smile dutifully, you catch the confusion briefly show on Lawrence’s face before he quickly disguises it as surprise. “You and Jungkook?” he says, lips turning into a smile. It’s the kind of smile that could mean many things. 

“Yep,” you nod, lips pursed in a smile. 

Something resembling a sigh leaves him. “You guys will have to catch me up on that for sure,” he says.

“There’ll be lots to catch you up on,” Thalia grins, “but right now, can we figure out how to get out of here?”

Lawrence chuckles, stepping to the side. “Of course, I know the way.” He gestures towards the left, waiting for you and Thalia to pass. 

As you fall into stride with Thalia on one side and Lawrence on the other side, you can’t help but feel some kind of disappointment at Lawrence’s reaction, though what did you expect? 

Of course he’s not going to say or do anything differently, and as long as you’ve agreed to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, you shouldn’t want him to react any differently. You’re lucky Thalia stepped in when she did or you might’ve completely forgotten you’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone else and would’ve ended up blowing the story for Jungkook entirely. 

“Ah, here we are!” Thalia skips forward out into the late evening night.

The view on the balcony now is even more beautiful with fairy lights adorning the trees along its perimeter. Everyone you recognise seems to be congregating towards one area as it’s almost time to leave to board the cruise ship again. 

“Oh there you are.” Jungkook appears from the middle of the crowd, not seeming to have noticed Lawrence who’s more closely following Thalia. “We’re leaving soon, here.” He hands you your purse you left with him a while earlier. 

“Thanks,” you answer, taking it and checking you haven’t left anything else. “Sorry, we got a bit lost inside.”

“Mhm, that’s fine, I was just about to come look for you anyway,” Jungkook says, looking at Thalia and only then does he notice Lawrence. The lines expressing concern in his face deepen into confusion.

Seeing this change, Lawrence smiles. “Hey mate.”

In a split second Jungkook’s confused frown changes to a smile. “Lawrence!” Reaching forward, the two share a pleasant exchange. 

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”

“Not bad, yourself?”

Jungkook nods. “I’ve been alright.”

“Better than alright from what I hear,” Lawrence says, brow raising as he glances in your direction. 

Jungkook’s gaze follows and you smile with a little shrug, subtly nodding at Jungkook.

“Ah.” Jungkook chuckles, taking a step towards your side. “Well, yeah, better than alright,” he confirms with a very believable smile. 

Lawrence laughs, looking between you. From behind him, you catch Thalia standing beside Alex as they watch the interaction play out. 

“I think it’s amazing,” Lawrence says, patting Jungkook’s arm. “You two are great together.”

“You’ve only just seen us again,” you say with a smile. 

“Hm, I’ve seen it for years,” Lawrence replies with a nod of his head and a small sigh as he looks at you. He’s still smiling but when you look at him, the brightness in his eyes has faded. “Trust me,” he says quieter than before, “I was always watching.”

Pursing your lips, you smile but you still feel self conscious as his gaze on you doesn’t budge. “That sounds a little stalker-ish, Lawrence,” you chuckle. 

Laughing, he shrugs. “Might’ve been. I always was a bit of a recluse.”

“I wouldn’t say you were a recluse.”

He arches his brow, lips morphing into a cocky smile. “Then what would you say I was?”

Mirroring his expression, you scoff. “What d’you want me to say, huh? Tall, handsome and mysterious?”

“Took the words right from my mouth,” he says smugly. 

“Ha,” you laugh. Despite it being somewhat true, you respond to say otherwise. “You wish.”

Lawrence smiles. “Ah, I guess those words are reserved for this one, huh?” He nods towards Jungkook. 

“Hm…” you look towards Jungkook who smiles with his lips pursed. It’s not his usual full smile and behind it there seems to be a reservation that tells you he’s being more quiet than usual. Nudging him gently, you beam when he meets your eyes. “Nah, I’ve got better words for this one.”

He nods and chuckles quietly but only briefly. 

You wonder what’s caused the shift in his mood since he seemed so bright only a moment ago when greeting Lawrence. 

“Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it, I’m interested to hear how things happened between you,” Lawrence says.

Humming quietly, you nod as your attention remains on Jungkook. “Some other time, I think we need to get moving now,” you say, nodding towards the crowd of moving guests ahead of you. 

“Ah, yes,” he answers, turning to look behind him. “I’ll see you around though, yeah?” He places his hand on your arm. 

You don’t pay much attention to it but feel Jungkook pull on your hand gently. 

“Yeah man, we’ll see you around,” he says, reaching to pat Lawrence’s arm. 

Lawrence nods, throwing you a smile before he turns and joins the rest of your party. 

As he walks away, Jungkook turns to you. “Shall we go too?”

You nod, allowing him to lead the way, hand still in yours. There’s a hum of conversation around you as everyone makes their way back towards the cars to take you to the port, but you’re grateful no one interrupts the two of you as you walk alone, a little behind the rest. 

“You okay?” you ask after a quiet moment. 

Jungkook answers almost right away. “Yeah. You?”

“Mhm.” You watch him as he kicks some of the sand beneath his feet with every step. “You sure though?”

He turns to look at you, a smile on his lips though his brows furrow a little in the middle. “Yeah, why?”

“Just,” you shrug. “I thought you seemed a bit quiet back there with Lawrence.”

Jungkook turns away and shrugs. “I’m all good, no reason not to be.” 

It’s not exactly convincing to you, but you take his word for it. If it’s something he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you in his own time if he wants to. Or, it’s actually just nothing and you’re overthinking this for no reason. After all, there is no explanation that you can think of for Jungkook to be upset with Lawrence, especially when he was so happy to see him just now. Yes, you’re just overthinking it. 

“Y/N, Jungkook, please be on time for breakfast tomorrow and not an hour late like last time,” your mother scolds airily as she waves her hand behind her. 

“Yes, mom,” you smile as she turns into her cabin. 

“Will do,” Jungkook nods, raising a hand to say good night to your parents. 

Once their door is closed, Jungkook continues to walk with you towards your cabin. 

“You better wake up earlier this time,” you yawn, pulling out your key card. 

Jungkook scoffs, coming to a stop next to your door. “Me?!” He rests his hand against the door frame, leaning closer. “You’re the one who was still sleeping when I came down.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “You have no proof.”

He matches your smile, cocking his head. “Alright, I’m recording you tomorrow morning, don’t get mad at me when I get your bed head and dried dribble face on camera.”

“Hey,” you pout, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t dribble.”

Jungkook shrugs, smiling. ”Tomorrow I’ll have proof.”

You narrow your eyes at him, internally vowing to wake up early so you can be ready before he comes to you. “There’s no—“

“Oh, Jungkook, Y/N!” 

The sickeningly sweet cotton candy voice has your smile faltering. Jungkook winces, his face hidden from Valentina as she approaches from behind you. 

Slowly, you turn around to face her.

“Well isn’t this just perfect,” she beams, coming to stop beside you both. “We’re neighbours here!” 

Chuckling, you nod your head. “That really is perfect.” 

Valentine smiles again, glancing between the two of you before shrugging. “Well,” she sighs, opening her purse to look for her key card. “Don’t mind me, I was just grabbing a few things. You two enjoy your night.” She waves airily but doesn’t move. 

“Mhm, you too,” you nod. 

As she pulls out her key card, she’s just about to walk away before she pauses to focus on Jungkook and a delicate frown appears on her face. 

Glancing at him, you’re not surprised to see she’s frowning. Jungkook hasn’t said a word and he looks rather pained right now.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” She tilts her head. “You look a little…” She steps closer, frown deepening as she moves until all of a sudden she stops. “Oh.” Her eyes widen, an apologetic pout appearing on her face. “I see, was I interrupting something?” She asks, pointing between you both. 

For a second you’re confused — yes, she interrupted your conversation with Jungkook and she knows that already — but then you remember that you’re supposed to be in a romantic relationship with Jungkook, and the expression on Valentina's face tells you she thinks she’s interrupted something else. 

Jungkook is obviously just as confused. “Huh?”

“You’re both going to bed now, are you not?”

He frowns. “Uh, yeah…”

“Yes, I thought so. Apologies then…” She glances down towards Jungkook’s crotch as the words that follow imply it — “oh, sorry, I must’ve put that fire out.”

A strangled noise escapes Jungkook’s throat and he looks relatively mortified. “What?— no!” He takes a step closer to your side while you somehow pull him closer to your side protectively in an attempt to hide him from her. 

Valentina doesn’t respond to the expressions on neither of your faces and only sighs disappointedly, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “I remember there was a time when I was the one to ignite the fire in your loins.”

The same strangled noise comes from Jungkook and you have to stop from bursting out into laughter. 

“Val,” Jungkook says, “were you not going somewhere?”

“Oh, yes.” She perks up, smiling brightly again. “Well you two lovebirds go ahead.” 

Just when you expect her to walk away, she doesn’t. In fact she stands there waiting for Jungkook and you to go into what she thinks is your shared cabin. 

“We will,” Jungkook says with the fakest smile you’ve seen on him.

Valentina only nods, still waiting.

Jungkook is about to say something again but you know there’s no point. Unlocking your door, you pull him into your room with you. “Bye, Val.”

“Good night,” you hear her respond as the door closes shut. 

Turning around to face Jungkook, you look at him with an expression crossed between shock and amusement. “Oh my God, how did you ever date her?!”

Jungkook groans, collapsing face down onto the end of your bed. “I swear she isn’t that bad, she’s doing it on purpose,” he says, muffled into the sheets.

Humming, you sit at the end of your bed beside him. “I guess so.” You lie down so you’re level with him.

Lying beside him, it’s quiet for a moment as you replay the exchange in your head. “So, she must’ve really been something if she was igniting the fire in your loins.” You can’t help but snort after saying it and Jungkook laughs beside you too, head still buried. 

Now that Valentina isn’t here, you allow yourself to laugh at it and you’re glad Jungkook does too. By the time you’re done laughing at it, you’re wiping away tears.

Lifting his head, he shakes his head. “This isn’t gonna be easy,” he says. 

“Yeah, she really doesn’t make it easy,” you respond quietly. 

Both of you fall silent for a moment again, listening carefully to see if you can hear her footsteps. 

“I can’t hear her anymore,” Jungkook says.

“Me neither.” You turn to look at him. 

He props himself up on his elbows. “So what now?”

“Well, we could wait till she goes away and then you sneak out,” you think aloud. “But how are we gonna do that every night?”

Jungkook nods, understanding. “So I should just stay?”

“I’m cool with it if you are,” you shrug.

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, then he looks at you with a soft frown creasing his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“Totally sure,” you nod, rolling onto your side to lean on your elbow. “Besides, it’s not like we’ve made things easy for ourselves,” you add with a laugh. 

The lines seem to have disappeared from Jungkook’s face but when your eyes search for some kind of clue to his feelings, you find something you can’t decipher hiding behind the brown of his eyes. 

He smiles, releasing a soft breath as he does so, and only now do you realise how close your face is to his. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable?” he says. 

Nodding, you lift your pinky finger. 

He raises his own hand and closes his own pinky finger around yours. 

“I will,” you promise him.

His smile grows and oddly, you feel your heart do a little flutter in your chest as a warm feeling spreads through you. You’re suddenly reminded of how you felt earlier on in the evening as you lay on the balcony with Jungkook… has he always made you feel this way? Before you can let yourself think about it, Jungkook is leaping off the bed and with him, the feeling disappears. 

“So, I don’t plan on having your mum tell me off tomorrow morning so I’m going to sleep.” He turns to look at you, placing his hand on his hips.  “Slight problem though, my clothes are in my cabin.” 

“Then go get them, duh,” you answer.

“What if Valentina is still outside?” he says, pointing to the door. “It’s only been a few minutes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to eavesdrop on us right now.”

“Hmm…” you can’t deny he has a point. “Well I guess,” you say, dropping your voice to a whisper, “you won’t know until you try.”

“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, grabbing his phone from the bed. 

You follow him to the door and you’re actually almost surprised when he opens it to reveal no one is there. Jungkook turns to look at you sporting a similar expression on his face and shrugs before stepping out. 

“I guess that makes things easier for us—“

You’re interrupted mid-sentence as Jungkook immediately turns back into the room with a slightly panicked expression, barging into you. 

“Jungkook!” Losing your balance, you feel yourself falling backwards with Jungkook stumbling forward. Your ass hits the floor first and you just manage to bring your arms behind you in time but your head still hits the carpeted floor behind you, and Jungkook who seems to fall in slow motion with you, eventually lands on top of you. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” he mumbles, pushing himself up onto his forearms.

“That really hurt,” you groan, squirming on the floor. You’re grateful the floor is carpeted but both your head and ass still hurt. 

Jungkook looks down at you with concern replacing any previous features. “Where?” 

Rubbing the back of your head, you frown at him. “Everywhere. Why’d you turn back?”

“She’s right there!” Jungkook suddenly whispers instead. “She was practically having sex against the wall with some guy.”

Still recovering from your fall, you look at him confused. “What?”

Jungkook grimaces. “She was outside her room with some guy.”

“But we just saw her!” you respond in a hushed whisper. 

“I know! He must’ve been close by and they were making out like their lives depended on—” 

“Well, this is interesting.”

Rolling your eyes at the sound of her voice, you let your head drop back onto the floor while Jungkook scrambles to move off of you. Moving beside you, he reveals Valentina standing at the door, her lipstick smudged and her hair a bit messier than it was a little while earlier.

She narrows her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Foreplay on the floor is new to me, and leaving the door open…” She looks directly at Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism.”

Jungkook visibly freaks out, getting up and pulling you with him. “No, gosh, it was an accident.”

Valentina frowns. “I don’t judge, Jungkook,” she says matter-of-factly.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies almost exasperatedly. “But this was just an accident, we fell over.”

“Hm, okay,” she says with a shrug as she glances at the bed. 

You know she doesn’t believe him but really there’s nothing else you can say to make her think otherwise. Besides, you don’t really care what she thinks while your head still hurts. 

“Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.” She looks back at you with a smirk. “How about we both do our best to keep it down tonight, hm?” she winks before turning and fluttering her fingers. “Ta-ta angels, see you in the morning!”

As soon as she’s disappeared from view, you go shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood. 

“Okay, she is so doing it on purpose.”

“I know,” Jungkook agrees almost immediately. “I don’t get why though.”

“I know why,” you say, raising your brows. “She probably still isn’t over you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “If anything, she’s just not used to people moving on from her. Her exes were always all over her when we were together.”

“So she expects you to go crawling back to her?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “She’s really not helping herself though. Maybe I should talk to her, tell her to just give me space…” He looks at you, raising his brow in question.

“You could, but I reckon she’ll just act innocent and pretend she has no clue what you’re talking about.”

“True,” Jungkook sighs.

“Look, it’s fine,” you say, walking over to the drawer. “It’s just Val, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Throwing a set of satin pyjamas on the bed, you turn around to face him again. “Besides, I’m tired now, my head hurts and I’d like to sleep.”

The frown on Jungkook’s face doesn’t disappear. “It still hurts?” he asks, coming over to you. 

“Yeah, you knocked me over pretty hard, my ass hurts too,” you pout.

Jungkook chuckles, hands coming to rest on your shoulders and he squeezes gently. “Want me to massage it?” he jokes.

“Ooh, good idea. Let’s leave the door open too,” you laugh.

Jungkook smiles, still giving you a shoulder massage and you feel yourself letting go slowly. 

“Mm,” you hum softly, head relaxing. Jungkook steps closer and you let your forehead rest against his chest.

You don’t realise as Jungkook’s hands stop working and gently make their way around your waist, holding you up as you get lost in the warmth of his embrace.

“Should we go to bed before you fall asleep here?” Jungkook says after a moment. 

Pulling away from him, you smile with tired eyes. “Dibs on the bathroom first.”

Jungkook obliges and sits down on your bed while you go first. When it’s his turn, he goes quickly since he has the most minimal night time routine, one of which you’ve always been envious of. 

You’re just finishing brushing your hair when he’s coming out.

“What time is it?” he asks, stepping out as he dries his face. 

“Almost two,” you respond, getting up to walk over to your pyjamas on the bed. 

Jungkook turns around without being told, facing the opposite direction. “D’you think I could go get my clothes from upstairs now?”

You pull on your pyjama bottoms. “Probably not. I don’t think I have anything that would fit you either.”

“What do I do then?” Jungkook asks, his confused tone making you laugh.

“Don’t act like you don’t sleep naked half the time, Jeon.”

“Well when I’m alone, yeah. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he says.

“I’m not, don’t worry.” You clamber into bed, pulling the sheets up to your shoulders as you get comfortable. “Just get into bed.”

Still facing away from you, Jungkook shrugs before pulling off his top. You don’t realise you’re staring at him strip until he starts pulling down his pants.

Abruptly, you pull the covers up even higher so you can’t see him. You hear him shuffling and then he stops but you can’t feel him getting into bed.

“Really?” he says. “My abs offend you that much?”

You can’t help but laugh, still keeping your eyes closed as you move the sheets down but place your hand in front of your eyes instead.  “Actually, they make for pretty good eye candy.”

Jungkook gasps scandalously, still shuffling about the room. “Have you been checking me out, Y/N?”

Cocking your head, you smile. “Now what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t appreciate you and your God given looks, hm?”

“A terrible one.”

“Exactly.”

“So why are you covering your eyes?” he asks, his voice growing louder as you feel the covers move beside you. 

“Because there’s another friend of yours that I don’t think I should be seeing as your best friend,” you say, ignoring the way you feel your cheeks go warm when you say it, and especially the way Jungkook’s deep chuckle sounds as you notice the bed dip beside you.

“He’s covered,” he says quietly.

“Not enough.”

Jungkook laughs again and this time you can feel his body beside yours. “That friend is hidden safe and sound, Y/N. You can look now.”

Peeking your eyes open slowly, you see Jungkook right beside you in bed. He’s sitting up, smiling down at you with his abs eye level to you. You’ve seen Jungkook topless before plenty of times, but being this close and being in bed with him is new to you. You’re sure it’s the reason you feel your heart rate rising. 

“Good,” you say, turning away. “Now hide the eye candy please. It’s bedtime, I’ve brushed my teeth and I’m not trying to get a cavity.”

Jungkook laughs, sliding down further into the bed to cover himself up to his shoulders. 

“They’re that sweet, huh?”

“I’d be disappointed if they weren’t, all that time in the gym would just be a waste.”

“Now that’s true,” Jungkook says with a smile, shifting in the bed so he’s more comfortable.

You hum quietly, staying still as Jungkook moves. Only once he’s found his comfortable position, then you do the same, turning onto your belly facing him. 

Jungkook happens to be facing you too and he smiles sleepily as his eyes close. “Good night, Y/N.”

Your eyes remain open for a few seconds as you look at him a little longer. “Mhm, night Koo,” you whisper, smiling even though he can’t see you. 

He looks pretty when he sleeps. You take in every one of his features, unaware that there is still a smile on your face as you do so.

Catching you unaware, Jungkook winks an eye open. “What’re you looking at, hm?” he asks softly with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

You feel flustered, eyes going wide. “There’s something on your face,” you say quickly, brushing nothing off of his face. “Eyelash or something,” you mutter, subconsciously shifting away from him a little since the close proximity definitely isn’t helping. 

“Uh-huh,” he nods, hiding a smile. 

You’re not sure what it is about his smile that makes your heart skip a beat and your senses go fuzzy like they’ve done so more than once now because of Jungkook. It’s odd, he’s not doing anything different, yet you feel different. Mentally, you officially dub this The Jungkook Effect. 

There’s not much you can say to defend yourself so you press your eyes shut and fight back a smile yourself. “Well, anyway, good night.”

“You sure you wanna sleep?” Jungkook teases. 

“Oh shut up,” you say with a laugh, you pull one of the pillows out from behind your head and place it in the small space between your torsos. 

Jungkook lifts his own head off his pillow and looks down at it with an amused smile. “Is this really necessary?”

Lifting your own head and resting on your palm, you arch your brow at him. “I’ve read enough books to know what happens when two people who aren’t dating share a bed.”

Jungkook mirrors your expression and dares to move an inch closer. “And what’s that?”

Smiling like the little know it all you are, you answer, “They wake up in the morning with someone’s cute ass, which would be mine in this case, conveniently pushed up against someone’s dick.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and the smirk on his lips is clear as day. “Ah, which would be mine,” he says, briefly looking down. His lips look wet when he says it and for some reason you find yourself wanting this conversation to continue on the same wavelength it is right now… but it’s also at this moment you realise you’re lying in bed and practically flirting with your best friend.

“Exactly,” you say, letting out a small breath as you fall back into your pillow, looking up to the ceiling.

Pursing his lips, Jungkook hides a smile. “Well I guess we definitely don’t want that to happen.”

You stifle a laugh as you lightly whack him with the pillow between you before putting it back in its place. “Shut it, Jeon.” 

He chuckles, falling back into his pillow. “Just kidding,” he murmurs, sliding further beneath the covers and getting comfortable. “Good night, Y/N.”

With a tired smile, you hum. “Good night, Koo.”

The stops at St Tropez and Nice both pass as quickly as the first few cities in Spain and before you know it, you’ve visited all the cities scheduled for France too. The stop in Barcelona has been your favourite so far though — the resort the Diamindis’ booked for the families on the cruise most definitely did not disappoint and the riding you got to do was just a big bonus, especially watching Alias struggling with his mare. 

The whole Jungkook situation has been pretty easy to navigate too. Now that the important people in your life know it’s not real, it makes it easier and Jungkook and you only need to behave as you normally do so you’re both happy. On top of that, you’ve noted that you haven’t had any more experiences with the Jungkook effect, though you’re not sure you can say that pleases you. 

It’s also been a while since you’ve hung out with Lawrence. He seemed to stay close in the first few days but you figured it must be his parents encouraging him to socialise with some of the other families since he’s not at home much. This became true enough when you saw him stuck at a table in some fancy restaurant in Nice with the Maddison’s. 

Although you did hope to get to spend some more time with Lawrence, at least for old times sake, you can’t say you care much, especially since Sophia has finally joined you. 

“Why don’t we go to the pool?” you say, raising your brows at Sophia. It’s almost midnight but you’re still lounging on a quieter deck with Jungkook and Alias. Since it’s a sea day tomorrow, you don’t need to be up early and it seems like it’ll be more fun than the last time now that Sophia is here too.

She perks up at that, turning towards you. “It’s closed right?”

“Yep, but that just makes it better,” you smile, ignoring Jungkook and Alias scoffing at your change in opinion — last time you were adamant that you should be following the rules. 

“Okay, let’s do it.” She looks at Jungkook and Alias. “You guys joining us?”

“Sure,” Alias hops up. “It’ll be fun to see Y/N break the rules,” he grins at you.

Sassing him, you get up too. “This time I’m pushing you in.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Alias tenses, flexing his biceps. “I’m 73 kilos of this,” he nods.

It’s no secret that Alias has an impressive figure, but unwilling to cave, you just roll your eyes and playfully swat his arm. “Whatever.”

“Alright, let’s meet at the top deck pool in ten minutes?” Jungkook says hopping up from the lounge. 

“Make that fifteen,” Sophia says. “I don’t know where I put all my swimsuits.”

Agreeing, you all head towards the upper decks, only splitting up to go towards your respective corridors to your cabins. Sophia and Alias go right towards the corridor where their family cabins are situated, while Jungkook and you still need to walk a little further to get back to your shared cabin.

Surprisingly, it’s been easy to share a cabin with Jungkook. Most days you come back from whatever activity you had that day and knock out easily since you’re so tired. On top of that, your pillow idea seems to be working perfectly and you haven’t experienced any awkward or uncomfortable moments. There have, however, been a few times you’ve mistaken the pillow for Jungkook and in the split second it takes you to realise it’s only the pillow, you can swear your heart skips a beat and your pulse races. The disappointment that follows is something you can’t seem to explain to yourself. 

“So Sophia comes and all of a sudden you’re Little Miss Daredevil, huh?” Jungkook says, as you walk together. 

You glance at him and note how handsome he looks today. After spending some time in the sea while in Nice, his dark locks are curled and framing his face perfectly. He walks with his hands in his short pockets and the linen material of his shirt blows in the evening air giving the occasional glimpse of his lean figure. It occurs to you that this is going to be coming off in a short while when you go to the pool—

Oop. You pause your thoughts, realising that the little flutter you just felt down south was definitely due to picturing your best friend topless. A part of you feels guilty wondering if Jungkook would be embarrassed, but you also know that Jungkook knows what you think of his physique. You pretty much said it all the other night and he’s caught you looking plenty of times before that, even making jokes about it when you did.

“She brings out that side of me,” you sigh, smiling as you descend the steps that lead towards your corridor.

“Alias and I aren’t good enough for you, huh?”

“Don’t take it personally,” you joke, and Jungkook just laughs quietly so he doesn’t wake up anyone as you walk past some cabins. 

Once back at your own, you quickly change into a bathing suit and throw on a hoodie and shorts so in case any staff see you, they don’t suspect you’re planning on going to the pool.

Alias is already waiting at the top deck and you can also see he’s brought some drinks along with him. He’s chosen not to cover up and is revealing his washboard abs for the whole world to see, and let’s not forget those killer thighs of his. 

“Beat you here,” he says without even thinking.

“Who was counting?” Jungkook says, bumping shoulders with him on purpose. 

“I was,” Alias responds, and quickly the two resort to their childish antics as Jungkook pulls him into a headlock. You choose to sit and watch, dipping your toes in the pool as you throw your hoodie to the side. 

“Guys, shut up, we can hear you from a mile away,” you hear Sophia’s voice from behind you as she climbs the steps to your deck. 

Jungkook and Alias stop mid-wrestle and you get up to pull your shorts off. 

“Huh?” Alias frowns, pulling himself free from Jungkook. “We?”

Once Sophia is standing on the deck, you see someone else coming up behind her. 

Lawrence. 

Sophia steps to the side as he steps up. “Yeah, we,” she repeats. 

“Hey guys,” Lawrence says with a harmless smile, glancing across at you all.

“Hey,” you smile back.

“Oh, hey man,” Alias waves. 

Jungkook smiles too with a nod of his head. 

“I saw Lawrence on the way so I thought I’d ask him to join us,” Sophia explains as she too pulls off an oversized hoodie. 

“I hope that’s alright,” Lawrence chuckles awkwardly.

“The more the merrier,” Alias says with a shrug. “So,” he looks at you, “who are we pushing in first?”

“You,” you smile. 

Alias spreads his arms, inviting you. “I’d love to see you try, babe.”

Glancing to his right, you subtly raise your brow at Jungkook who smiles back at you. In a split second, Alias is being lifted from the ground and tossed into the pool. 

Sophia and you jump into the pool right after, surfacing close to Alias.

“I thought we were friends,” he laughs at Jungkook splashing water towards him. “Gosh, I forgot how whipped you are.” 

Jungkook just laughs and shrugs. “Sorry, man,” is all he says.

“You getting in?” Sophia asks Lawrence as she joins you next to the pool, dipping your toes first. 

He nods. “I guess.” He glances around looking at the empty surroundings. This top deck is pretty big considering it’s wholly private.

“What?” Alias holds out his arms. “We’re not good enough for you?” he jokes. 

“Of course you are,” Lawrence says before he shrugs, lips curving into a smile. “I just think with all this space, we could do something more.”

“Oh.” Sophia raises her brows, intrigued. “Like what?”

She speaks for all of you as you all look at him.

“I risk sounding like a five year old,” he says with a small laugh, “but how about hide and seek.” He looks around again. “We’re on a ship, we’ve got plenty of hiding spaces.”

The rest of you glance at each other and it’s clear that you’re all in agreement.

Alias jumps out of the pool. “Alright, but it’s hide and seek chase.” He grabs a towel and dries himself off. “I’m it first,” he adds with a devilish smile.

“Even better,” Lawrence says, pleased that everyone is on board. “Are we splitting up or staying together?”

“I’ll go with Y/N,” Jungkook says, approaching your side as you get up from the side of the pool. The air is chilly to your wet skin but you quickly warm up as Jungkook helps you pat dry.

“I’ll stay with Lawrence,” Sophia says, walking over to his side.

“Alright let’s stick to the top two decks when hiding, but if I’m chasing you, we can go anywhere,” Alias says, pulling on a linen tee.

“Where’s the base?” you ask, covering yourself up too. 

“Here?” Sophia proposes.

“Or only inside the pool,” Jungkook adds to the suggestion with a shrug.

Lawrence nods in agreement, as do the rest of you.

“Alright,” Alias smirks. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to count down, “one hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight…”

The rest of you bolt immediately knowing that 100 seconds with Alias will only be 50, if that.

Sophia doesn’t even wait for Lawrence’s confirmation before running in the direction she came from but he follows her anyway.

With a tight hold on your hand, Jungkook pulls you in the opposite direction, already running faster than you can keep up with. 

“Slow down,” you laugh, squeezing his hand.

“C’mon,” he says without turning back and without slowing down. “We gotta get away first, he’s only gonna count to ten.”

Just as you suspected, even with the distance that’s been put between you already, you can hear Alias yell out for you all to hear.

“Ready or not, here I come.”

You’re just grateful there’s no cabins near here. 

It feels like you’re running for a mile, starting outside before Jungkook takes you through a door and down multiple corridors and even two smaller staircases you had no idea existed. He’s slower now which comes and a relief to you, but you’re still panting from all the sprinting.

“Koo, where the hell are we going?” you ask, tugging on his hand to make him stop.minutes, you find yourself on a part of the ship you’ve never been to before.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” you say, not really caring about being lost because you’re just glad Jungkook stopped running.

“No, I’ve been here before.” Judging by the way he’s walking, it does seem like he knows where he’s going. “We’re near our cabin.” 

“Really?” You look around, frowning at your surroundings. “I don’t recognise it.”

“Yep,” Jungkook takes your hand as he taps his pass on a door to go down a corridor which you still don’t recognise but from the smell, seems to be near the kitchen. 

“Wait, Jungkook…” you pause, looking back at a small sign above where Jungkook tapped his card. Staff only. “How?” you ask in bewilderment.

Jungkook just pulls you forward with a smug look on his face “Alias gave it to me. He got one for himself and Alex too.”

Of course he did. “He’s trying to get us kicked off, I swear.”

“It’s just for a little fun,” Jungkook grins. “Besides, this way, we can win the game.”

“Yeah, except Alias can get in here too then.”

Coming to a split in the corridor, Jungkook stops. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles. “Well, 

“Hey!”

Jungkook and you both turn on the spot to the sound of a voice from ahead of you. It’s a member of staff, the same one from the night Alias and Jungkook jumped in the pool. He seemed pretty mad at the time and seeing his expression now as he starts walking towards you, he seems the same. You don’t blame him, he was chasing you guys for the better part of ten minutes.

“Run?” Jungkook whispers, his fingers clasping yours tightly.

“Run,” you nod.

Before you know it, your legs are moving as Jungkook leads you down the closest corridor.

“Hey! Stop!” 

You almost feel bad about running away, but at the same time, you know that the guy is only trying to stop you to feed whatever power trip he’s on, so you keep running as fast as you can to try to keep up with Jungkook.

“Do you know where you’re going?” you huff, looking over your shoulder.

The guy is right behind you. 

“No,” Jungkook laughs, slowing down as he sees a corridor to his right. 

“Keep going,” you laugh too, pulling him down the corridor before the guy can catch up. 

“Oi, I said stop!” he yells.

“What d’you think, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, though he shows no sign of stopping. “Should we listen to him?”

“Never,” you respond, glancing back again. He seems to be slowing down but you don’t stop yet. This time, you take the lead and go down a smaller corridor which you realise leads to a staircase.

“Up,” Jungkook ushers you, letting you go first. Luckily it;s a short one and Jungkook comes up close behind you.

“Left or right?” you ask, glancing down the corridor. The left leads to a door which heads outside, the right leads to a door which seems to hide a dimly lit corridor.

Jungkook takes your hand again, going left. As he pushes the door open, you hear the guy is still coming close behind you. “Stop,” he yells.

You’re honestly surprised he’s still chasing you but you’re also tired now and really just want to stop. “Koo, I think I have asthma,” you breathe out, feeling your steps slow down.

Jungkoook chuckles, looking back at you. “Y/N, we’ve been through this before, you don’t have asthma.”

You would pout because you know he’s righ and you still want to stop but you also don’t want that guy to catch up to you. 

Still, Jungkook glances around while jogging as though he’s looking for something. “Ah, there!”

You’re too tired to ask what, only letting Jungkook lead you across the deck to a door which takes you back inside. As you enter, you see the staff still coming behind you. Gosh, he’s bothered. After only a few yards, Jungkook uses the staff pass to open a door on your right. Inside is a small room with a few shelves lining the walls and one big one in the middle; it’s full of rescue equipment.

“What the hell, Koo?” you laugh, letting him take you inside as he closes the door quickly. 

He takes you to hide behind the biggest shelf in the middle of the room. With your back pressed against it, he stands close in front of you so he can still see the door.

When you look up at him, you see a massive grin on his face and that mischievous gleam in his eyes that you love.

“You’re crazy,” you murmur, restraining a laugh.

“Shh,” he whispers, placing his hand beside your head as he takes the smallest step closer, one that’s enough for you to feel the warmth of his breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you. 

The sensation makes you fall quiet anyway and you’re sure that even if you did speak, no one from outside would be able to hear you, but you’re rather enjoying the feeling of having him this close to you. The smell of his perfume – your favourite – fills you with every heavy inhale as you catch your breath too, and suddenly, you find this feeling familiar.

That damned Jungkook effect. 

Since you’re stuck here hiding for a few moments, you can do nothing but just embrace it as it comes. Apparently you’re embracing it a little too much as you don’t realise your eyes close and your head slowly moves closer to his chest. It just feels so good being this close to him – feeling his warmth, smelling him… his body is so close to yours, you wonder what would happen if you just took another step forward and–

“You okay there?” Jungkook’s voice comes out low with a humorous lilt.

‘“Hm?” Your eyes go wide as you realise your head was resting on his chest. “Sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling your cheeks go warm. “I’m tired, it’s late.”

“Mhm, that’s okay.”

Looking up, you see the mischievous gleam in his eyes has changed to something playful. 

“You can use me as a pillow anytime,” he adds with a wink.

Scoffing, you poke him in the chest. “Well I gotta put these pecs to use somehow.”

He laughs quietly before poking his head out to the side. “Come on, I think he’s gone and we’ve got a game to get back to.”

You follow him to the door and find the corridor empty, thankfully. “Alias has probably already found the other guys.”

“That would make us the winners.”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get back to base first.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jungkook pauses, looking around. “Where is the base from here?”

“Um…” Stopping beside him, you look around too. It’s hard to tell when it’s dark but there’s some parts of the deck which look familiar to you. “I think we keep going forward.”

“Actually, I think we’ve passed the way up.”

“What?” you frown, looking up confused. 

“Well the pool was at one of the top decks and there’s one way up which we missed, no?”

“I don’t think so.”

Jungkook looks down at you, his brows raised. “Really?”

“Really,” you say, taking his hand to tug him along, except he doesn’t move. When you look back at him, you see he’s got his brows raised with a smile, one that only spells a challenge. 

“Oh, c’mon, Koo,” you sigh. 

He shrugs before swinging your hand. “Let’s see who gets there first then,” he says in a sing-songy voice.

“Fine,” you shrug, already turning away from him. “Just be careful Alias doesn’t get you on your way.”

“I’ll be fine, just look out for yourself,” he responds as he already starts skipping back the other way. 

Shaking your head, you turn back to look at your surroundings. You’re sure there’s a small staircase somewhere near here that you’re supposed to go up which should be close to the pool. It’s when you’re glancing around now that you realise it’s actually quite scary being alone on an empty deck late at night with no company but the sea.

Taking a few steps back, you look down the way you came to see if Jungkook might still be there but of course he’s not – he’s probably running to make sure he gets back before you.

Sighing, you continue down the path that seems familiar to you, only to hear a small bang from somewhere in front of you. Immediately, you’re relieved to see Lawrence coming around the corner ahead of you.

He smiles when he sees you. “Hey,” he says, voice hushed. 

“Hey,” you answer, looking behind him. “Was that bang you?”

He looks back, confused for a split second before he nods. “Oh, yeah, I just jumped down the last few steps when I was coming down.”

“Right. Where’s Alias and Sophia?”

“Well Alias tried to get me just a little while ago but I lost him,” he says, looking proud of himself before he frowns. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“We split up,” you answer with a smug smile. “He thinks the base is back this way.” You point in the direction that he went in. “But I know it’s this way.” You point in the opposite direction.

Lawrence chuckles, looking at you somewhat endearingly though it goes unnoticed by you. “Uh, Y/N, it’s the other way.”

“Huh?” you frown, looking back. “Really?” 

“Yep,” he nods, hiding an amused smile. “I can show you the way if you like?”

Sighing in defeat, you agree to go with him. “It’s not like I have any chances of beating him now.”

“Ah,” Lawrence sighs as he falls into stride beside you. “Still got the competitive streak I see?”

“Me?” you laugh quietly, glancing at him.

“Mhm, you,” he says matter-of-factly, still sporting a smile.

Looking at him now, you note how relaxed and care-free he seems. You’re not sure whether it’s because his usually swept back hair is now falling freely, or if it’s because of the glow on his face from the light sheen of sweat from the humidity of the evening air. It’s nice to see him like this, even the smile is a difference – growing up he always seemed so mysterious and quiet which no doubt had to do with the pressure he faced as an only child and a big family name to live up to. 

“Well, it’s good you remember. I won’t be losing today either,” you say with a playful nudge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he laughs. “If we bump into Alias, I’m ditching you fast.”

“I hope so, you’re dead weight to me.”

“Hey!” He nudges you back as he still laughs, loosely running his hand through his hair.

“Mm, remember when we were kids?” you say, suddenly reminiscing. “We used to do this stuff all the time.”

Lawrence nods. “I do,” he says with a smile. “There was one Christmas, we all went up to that chalet in… oh, where was it?” he frowns, looking at you. “Courchevel?”

“Hm…” You shake your head as it rings a bell. “I don’t think so, there was only one year we celebrated Christmas abroad all together and it wasn’t in France.”

“Switzerland?”

“Yes!” You say, pointing your finger at him as you suddenly remember the finer details of the trip.  “At St Moritz, we had that massive suite at Kempinski.”

“That's the one,” Lawrence says with a smile matching yours. “D’you remember those nights we would always want to go out but our parents never let us? So we used to run around hiding from them.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I remember Leon and Helena would get so mad, even I was scared of them but their own kids never even cared.”

“My parents got mad too but we still did it every night,” Lawrence laughs, his walk slowing down as the two of you approach the bow. “I wonder how he were so brave,” he continues, “I bet it was Alias’s idea, all the fun stuff was always his idea.”

“Mm, actually, I think it was yours,” you say, tilting your head towards him. 

“Really?” Lawrence questions, brow raised as he walks closer to the ledge overlooking the tranquil evening sea though you can’t actually see much besides a distant glittering coastline. 

“Mhm, really,” you nod, coming to stand beside him.

Lawrence turns so he’s facing you, a thoughtful expression on his face but his lips are still curved in a smile as they have been this whole time. “I’m surprised you remember.”

You shrug. “I remember a lot of things.”

Lawrence opens his mouth as though to say something before closing it. 

“What?” you ask, turning to face him too. 

He shakes his head. “I was about to ask something but it’s probably gonna sound stupid.”

“Stupid questions are my favourite to answer,” you say with a smile. 

He arches a brow, his smile changing to something more timid. “D’you remember a lot about me or just everything in general?”

You laugh, not having expected that. Lawrence isn’t really the conceited type so you don’t think it’s coming from a place of vanity, and the shy hesitancy he says it with almost makes him seem cute — like he wants you to say him.

“Both I guess,” you answer honestly. 

He laughs too, one that reminds you of the days you spent daydreaming about him. It feels almost nostalgic, certainly not the same. If this was a few years ago you might’ve gotten butterflies from just hearing that laugh but now you only feel happy to see him letting his guard down and smiling which is a rare occurrence with him.

“Are you surprised?” you ask.

“Well, yeah,” he says, still with a shyness. “I thought I just went unnoticed in school.”

“Unnoticed? You were without a doubt one of the most popular guys in school.”

He shrugs. “Never felt like it.”

You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, because imagine being the one to receive almost 100 cards on Valentine’s Day every year, not to mention the endless notes in your lockers.”

“Ah,” Lawrence laughs softly. “Okay I see your point.” He glances towards you. “Never got one from you though.”

“I was too shy,” you say, trying to hide the truth a little with a tone of sarcasm. 

“Probably would’ve said yes if it was from you,” he says with a playful smirk.

“Thanks for telling me this late,“ you laugh. “But wait…” You look at him in amusement, having just processed some of what he’s said. “So you’re telling me you had no idea that I had a crush on you in school?!”

Confusion is the first and only emotion you manage to catch on Lawrence’s face, the rest passing in a second. “I had no idea!” he says, half laughing while still in what can only be surprise. “You liked me?” He looks at you and you notice a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks.

“For a long time,” you laugh. “Though I don’t know why, you never paid me much attention until college.”

Lawrence doesn’t skip a beat when answering. “I had to! I’m two years older than you, any attention I wanted to give you throughout school might’ve just caused problems and I didn’t want that for you.”

“Well, how thoughtful of you to not want me to be the subject of stupid rumours, meanwhile I was left to pine over you,” you say somewhat sarcastically but still humourful. “If only I knew that you were being so considerate…” only now do you realise exactly what it is that Lawrence has just said… “Hang on.” You pause, brows creasing as you turn to look at him. “You what?”

Lawrence suddenly hesitates, timidly. “I had a thing for you,” he mumbles after a few seconds.

“You did?”

“Mhm, for a while. It’s always been there… still is.”

Your head is reeling… you could’ve had Lawrence. You still could have Lawrence – he’s telling you as much – but…

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask softly, still dumbfounded.

“I wanted to,” he admits with a small smile, just about managing to look at you now. “Your first year of college, but you seemed so carefree and I didn’t wanna be the older guy tying you down. Even though it’s just one year, everyone has fun in first year so I wanted you to have that too.” He purses his lips before releasing a small breath as he looks away. 

“I wouldn’t have cared about that,” you say quietly with a laugh. 

To your relief, Lawrence laughs too, albeit awkwardly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I tried again in my last year, your third.” He glances at you before shrugging. “I don’t think you cared for it though.”

It’s easy to remember what he’s talking about now — there’s no way you wouldn’t remember all the times Lawrence tried to shoot his shot with you, especially because you could never figure out why you denied it to him and yourself.

Lawrence continues in your moment of silence. “I always thought it was because of Jungkook.”

All the thoughts come to a standstill in your mind… 

“Now I know I was right,” Lawrence says with a wistful smile. 

Is this your answer? The reason you never wanted to pursue Lawrence even after having a crush on him for so long — because of Jungkook? 

It’s even crazier to you that right now, it doesn’t seem so bizarre. 

Jungkook has always felt right. Maybe you do care about him in more ways than you realised, maybe everything Lawrence is saying is true, and maybe everything Alex has been saying for months now is true. There’s obviously a reason you’ve started to feel differently around him, not to mention you’re always finding any and every excuse to be with him.

Lawrence continues, unaware of the thoughts unravelling in your head. “I just wish I’d had the courage to say something sooner, but it’s my fault.” He takes a step closer and the feeling of his hand brushing yours draws you back into this moment. 

Looking up, you meet his gaze to see soft eyes and furrowed brows. 

“Now it’s all out there though,” he says in a voice quiet enough to be a whisper, “I have to know…” 

His eyes search yours and he hesitates for a brief moment before you feel his fingers lace between yours. “It is too late, right?”

note. please interact with all parts and share your thoughts with me! <3 part 2 here

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Illicit Favors | MYG | Oneshot

Pair: Min Yoongi x f!reader 

Summary: When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

Genre: ONESHOT. Fluff, tiny angst, smut, non idol au. Friends to Lovers. 

Warnings: Producer Yoongi, virgin and inexperienced reader, teaching-sex au. From Yoongi’s POV. Yoongi is relatable and slightly overthinks and is a little socially awkward, but he’s whipped for her and cute as fuck. There’s lots of smut in this. Long hair Yoongi. Side pairing Jikook. Some text messages edited, but not a smau. 

A/N: Happy birthday to our favorite cat boy! The love of our lives, the man who gets proposals on the daily! 

WC: 29k.

MAIN MASTERLIST I If you want another Yoongi Oneshot

SEPTEMBER 18TH | 19:35

Ever since Yoongi met you at a coffee shop four years ago, when you simply asked him to look after your computer while you used the bathroom, coming back with an orange muffin for him as a ‘thank you’, visiting him in the studio wasn’t a rare feature in itself for you. But Yoongi knew those eyes. 

Even in emoji form, the pleading, puppy-kitty eyes told him you wanted something from him. And, chances were, you’d get it. No matter what it was. From picking you up in the middle of the night because you were craving convenience store corn dogs, to going to the bulk supermarket with you once a month because the prices were better and he could reach things you simply could not. 

It didn’t help that he had a spring in his step as he got up from his rolling chair and walked to the door of his production studio, quickly typing out the code that unlocked it. And there you were, standing in the slightly dark hallway, heavy backpack thrown precariously over a shoulder –even if he always told you to put on both straps, lest your back get crooked–, a pout on your lips and the perfect copy of the aforementioned pleading eye emoji. 

You were already stepping out of your shoes, knowing Yoongi didn’t like them inside his space, and throwing your arms around his middle as you hid your face on his chest. Now that wasn’t a common occurrence at all. Yoongi didn’t like people in his personal space, a fact you very much knew and respected. Then again, you weren’t just people. 

“What happened?” he asked, arms wrapping around your smaller frame almost instantly, resisting the urge to sniff the top of your head.

“Kibhamun.” was your muffled reply, making him chuckle. 

“What was that?”

“Kim Namjoon.” you corrected, pulling away from him to step into the studio properly, placing your bag on the floor as you dropped to his couch. 

Ah, yes, Kim Namjoon. 

Yoongi’s best friend, the chairman of a family run publishing company. 

Call it nepotism, but Yoongi had introduced the two of you and put in a good word for you, so that his dongsaeng would read your manuscript; the one you had been working on on that fateful day at the coffee shop. To this day, Yoongi still insisted you got a publishing contract –and now had three books out in bookstores of South Korea– all on your own. 

Namjoon took every opportunity to tease Yoongi about his obvious crush on you, which was a small price to pay for not only the friendship that blossomed between you and Joon, but for the fact you were able to kickstart your career as a writer. 

“I'm trashing my book.” you said with the jutting out of your bottom lip, folding your arms on your chest and your legs under you. 

“What–why? You were so excited to hand in the new chapters last week.” Yoongi sat down on the couch beside you, with one seat cushion still between you. His brows were knitted together as he wondered just how wrong your meeting with your editor had gone down this afternoon. 

“Yes, but your best friend changed that.” you grumbled with a tiny shrug of your shoulders, leaning sideways against the couch to lay your head on the backrest. 

With a sigh and the tilting of his head to mimic yours, Yoongi asked: “What did he do now?”

“He said my new chapters are shit.”

“He did not say that.” Yoongi reasoned. 

He was the blunt one of the two, there’s no way Namjoon would ever say something of that nature to you. If your chapters were bad, he’d give you pointers and ways of making them better. But you were resolute. 

“Not with so many words, but the sentiment was there!” you complained with a pretty pout that made Yoongi’s gaze flit to your plump lips. 

“What happened, doll?” he asked, a little softer, knowing how to work you into telling him what really happened. 

You sighed dramatically, back straightening as you looked down to your hands on your lap. Yoongi followed the movement, watching how you fiddled with the ring on your middle finger of your left hand; it had belonged to your grandma once, he knew, and you always wore it when you needed that little extra pick-me-up. 

“Apparently I can't write smut.” you told him so quietly he barely heard you. 

Your new book, the one you’ve been working on for the past three months, had adult scenes in it. Not necessary essential to the plot but not gratuitous fucking either. Just something to spice it up, to open up to a different market. You were never scared of trying something new and Yoongi admired that. 

Yoongi himself was the kind of person that never even changed his coffee order, sticking to it forever when he found the one he liked. You were brave and adventurous, while Yoongi liked his routine and comfort zone.   

“What makes you say that?” he asked you once you didn’t elaborate. 

“Joon said I got many things wrong. I believe his exact words were 'it doesn't happen like that, that's not how it tastes, or how it feels’–” you said with a roll of your eyes, which made Yoongi bite back a chuckle. But then your fire was aimed at him: “You've read the chapters! Why didn't you tell me it was shit?!”

“It wasn't shit–”

How could he tell you the reason he didn't notice some things were off was because when reading your smut, all he could do was picture you? And him. In the various situations you wrote in rich descriptions. Like a fucking creep, he got off to his friend's writing.

“Yeah, well, I'm a fraud.” 

“You're not a fraud, doll.” the pet name he had for you came out a lot more natural now than the first few times he blurted them out on slips of the tongue, but it still made his neck flush. 

“No, no, Joon is right. I know he wasn't trying to hurt me, and I don't want to publish something bad either.” you insisted, quieting the fidgeting of your hands after turning the ring on your finger a few times. “Just... he said I should write from experience.”

“Oh. Yeah, that usually helps when writing lyrics, too.”

Yoongi felt cold sweat clinging to his back as he wouldn’t want to read about your sex adventures, if you started writing about them in your new book. Some of the things you wrote about were pretty wild, Yoongi could only imagine what you were up to in your private life. You never really told him about it, but he guessed it was something you shared with your girlfriends. Or Jimin. Not with him.

“That’s the problem.” again, you spoke too quietly. “I don't have them.”

“Don’t have what?” he asked with the nervous nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip. 

“The experiences to write about.” you supplied with a small grit of your teeth, as if you were pretending you weren’t the one saying those words. 

“Sure you do. I'm sure you can change a few things to make it fit the plot–”

“No, Yoon.” you interrupted, crestfallen, rubbing your hands on your thighs in what should be a self soothing manner. “I haven't... Done anything.”

The weight of those news was shocking to him, but Yoongi tried not to let it show in his face. He watched you for a while, too, trying to decide if you were joking or trying to pull one on him, but your pink cheeks of embarrassment were too real and you weren’t that good of an actress. 

It just didn’t really make sense to him. You were a few years younger than him, but not by much, and you were so pretty and clearly attractive. Whenever he agreed to go to a night out with your group –most likely being dragged out by a lying Hoseok that told him it would be chill– guys hit on you all the time, much to his own chagrin.

“Ever?” Yoongi hushed with a frown. This whole conversation had his forehead hurting from how confused he was. 

“Ever.” you shook your head, a stray piece of hair moving out of place and Yoongi’s fingers flexed in want to fix it. “I'm not ashamed of it, okay? I'm also not saving myself for marriage or anything. I just never had a boyfriend and I didn't want to just hook up with a stranger for a night.”

“Yeah, no, that's... dangerous.” he agreed with a single nod of his own. 

“Mhm! I mean, I thought that would happen with Jungkook the night we met. He was nice enough and just my type.” you said, not meaning much by it, but damn if it didn’t feel like a punch in the gut. Ouch. “But he turned out to be gay and only chatted with me to get to Jimin.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” Yoongi was there the night Jungkook showed up in their lives and would later become part of their small group and subsequently Jimin’s boyfriend. 

“I don't know what to do, Yoon. I had so many hopes and plans for this book!” you cried, a hand running through your hair in frustration.

“I know, maybe... maybe you should read more smut? To be able to write it better?” he tried, but it only made you huff. 

“If you look at my search history you'll think I’m a sex addict that should get an intervention.” you shook your head. “I’ve read it all.” 

“Didn't Joon give you some advice? Isn't that his job as your editor?”

Yoongi might need to have a chat with his bestie, as his job was to help you out, not leave you feeling lost and defeated. Yoongi knew first hand how happy you were with your latest project, all of the twists and turns you had planned for it. And here you were, sulking on his couch, questioning whether or not you should throw it out. 

“He did, and I'm starting to think he's right.” you said, and it gave Yoongi a glimmer of hope, giving up on scolding Namjoon. At least for now. 

“There we go, what did he say?”

“He said that if I don't have any experiences to write about, then I should create some.” you avoided Yoongi's eyes as you said it, which didn’t help his choking on air. 

“He said what–”

“It makes sense.” you insisted, gathering your courage to finally look at him. 

“It does not– you can't possibly think that going out to find someone random to be your first is a good idea!” Yoongi couldn’t help how worked up he was getting over this. The mere hypothesis of you getting out there to find someone to lose your virginity to just for the sake of experiences was making his blood boil. “It's dangerous, and borderline traumatizing, and you can't expect to write well after that–”

“No, that's not what he said at all!” you waved a hand in the air, reaching for his arm with the other. Your touch was firm, but gentle at the same time. As you wanted to make sure he understood. “Joon didn’t mean I should find someone random.”

There Yoongi went, with the choking again. Because your eyes… Those eyes that were the front door to your soul. They told him so much. And Yoongi was slightly scared to read what they were trying to tell him at that moment. 

“He said I should consider talking to a friend.” you continued after Yoongi didn’t say anything, but your hand stayed in his arm. “Someone I trust, someone I know won't use me, and that won't let things get awkward after.”

Okay, Yoongi would have to have that chat with Namjoon afterall. He could just about imagine his best friend sitting in his suburban house right now, with a drink in his hand, chuckling to himself, thinking he was a mastermind. 

Of course he planned all of this. Namjoon knew of Yoongi’s feelings for you, and he knew that he’d be the one you’d come to with this. He just hadn’t decided if Namjoon was trying to play cupid or pull a prank on him. 

“You're considering it?” Yoongi asked, not wanting to believe what was happening right now. 

“I've decided. I'm either doing that or throwing the whole book away and starting something else.” you sounded so sure of yourself that Yoongi really started to worry. “Which would just be stressful, because I'm already way into the deadlines. So what's it gonna be?”

“Wha-why are you asking me?” Yoongi’s heart was going a mile a minute inside his chest, and it most definitely wasn’t the caffeine he’d been drinking all day. 

“Are you going to make me say it?” you pleaded, squeezing his bicep just once.

“Yes, because I don’t know what you want from me.” he wheezed. 

“I trust you.”

“No, you're not serious. You want me to–” 

“Teach me, yeah.” you assured him, tugging on the sleeve of the cardigan he was wearing. “Or at least have those experiences with me so that I know how things work.” 

Yoongi was about to start hyperventilating. Maybe he had drunk so much coffee all his adult life that it didn’t work on him anymore and he fell asleep on his desk and this was all a dream. Because there’s no way in hell that the girl he had a crush on for the past four years –yet wasn’t brave enough to do something about it– was asking him to–

“Are you even attracted to me?!” his voice came out more high pitched than he wanted, making him cough behind his fist.  

With a deadpan, you stated: “I have eyes, Yoongi.” 

“And also a nose and a mouth, what does that have to do with anything?”

“I think you're hot!” you specified with a giggle and Yoongi went back to the dream axiom. “Especially ever since you decided to let your hair grow long. And I like your face.”

“Thanks.” it should have come out as sarcasm, but his face was too red and the word sounded too breathy. 

“And you’re... strong and tall.” you continued, eyes obviously settling on the width of his chest. 

“Hoseok is taller, why didn't you ask him?” Yoongi didn’t mean to ask that, not one bit, not for a second. It was just one of those things that came out of his mouth when he was nervous. 

“I can. I'll go to him after I leave here, if you really say no.” you were clearly taken aback, hand finally dropping from his arm as you pulled back just a little further away from him. You blinked a few times before offering him an awkward smile. “Which you're already doing. Yeah, sorry, no, I just assumed that you'd be up for it because, after Jimin, you're my closest friend. But I guess being close to someone doesn't mean you're attracted to them? God, this is awkward, I don't know why I just assumed that.”

You were getting up and Yoongi was panicking. Because he didn’t want you to think that he wasn’t attracted to you, and he didn’t want to offend you. But, above all, he didn’t want you to bring this to Hoseok. 

Because Hoseok might say yes. 

Honestly, not many people he knows would ever say no to you. 

“Wait, that's not what I meant.” Yoongi insisted as you were already standing and on the way of going after your backpack. 

“No, Yoon, it's fine!” you waved him off, as if trying to take the burden you had dropped on him off. “Might be better to do it with someone I'm not that close to, anyway. I'll try Hobi.”

“Doll, stop, hang on.” Yoongi reached for your wrist as you walked in front of him and you stopped your stride. “Let me consider this.”

“You don't have to.” you repeated, but didn't take your wrist from his grasp and didn’t walk away. 

“What is it you want, exactly? And please be honest with me, so we both know what we're getting ourselves into here and so there's no misunderstandings.” if he was even entertaining the idea of saying yes to this crazy plan, then he needed you to be as straightforward as possible. 

“I haven't thought this far? But I guess we could do stuff.”

“I said to be specific.” Yoongi pressed. 

You huffed and, dare he say, squirmed, as you sat down on the couch again, this time closer to him. “I mean, would you fuck me? You know, so I know how it works? And, uhm. Stuff?”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, we should probably start with, like... Kissing. Handjobs? I'd like to suck you off if you're okay with that?” 

Nevermind his dreaming theory, Yoongi might have died and this was his personal version of heaven. Or maybe hell, depending how long it would take for you to start laughing in his face, saying that Namjoon was right and he would fall for it. But that wasn’t like you at all, too sweet and nice for your own good, and –despite his little hours of sleep and caffeine intake– Yoongi was pretty healthy to have died all of a sudden. 

“You can't be serious.” Yoongi was still incredulous. 

“I am! And I can ask Hobi, you don't have to feel pressured.” you told him as the wrist he was still holding on to finally slipped from his grasp, but just so you could hold his hand instead. “Even though this is all Namjoon’s fault and you're the one who introduced me to him and so this is also your fault, and I think you should fix it.”

There it was, the arguments, the innocent guilt trip, your special little way of getting Yoongi to do what you wanted, while not actually forcing him to do anything he didn’t want. And this? You? This was something he wanted. For a really long time. This might not be the way he ever thought he would get to be with you, but if anything, Yoongi was an opportunist. 

And he wasn’t about to let you walk into the studio next door to ask Hoseok to do this favor for you. He’d never forgive himself if he let you walk away now, if he handed you over to one of his closest friends. You might fall in love with each other, get married, and make Yoongi give a speech during the ceremony. You might even name your first born after Yoongi. 

“So.” you squeezed his hand, looking at the difference in size of your palms. “What do you say?”

“You're crazy. But if you're gonna do this anyway.” his shrug was supposed to be nonchalant. 

“Yes! Yoon, thank you! Okay, so what do we do? I promise I'll pay attention!” your excitement made him chuckle, despite the weight of reality slowly sinking in, and untamed butterflies going haywire in his stomach. 

“Calm down, we're not starting right now.”

He needed time to let this new reality settle and tame his anxiety and the voices in his head that were screaming at him. Besides making a list of everything that could go wrong by having agreed with this. 

“Right, I should probably shave down there.” you said with a side pout, as if you were thinking hard about what you had to do to prepare. 

“You– that's not a problem.” Yoongi wanted to make sure you understood you were perfect, just as natural as you wanted to be, but he couldn’t just say that. “Just do what you feel comfortable with, this is not about me. You shouldn't have to worry about things like that, unless you want to.”

“Okay. I should still get on the pill, right?” you asked him, too innocently for the type of conversation you were having. 

“I mean... maybe? You should talk to your doctor about it?” he had no idea really, as that question made Yoongi wonder just how much you needed help with. “There are side effects and long term commitments with that kind of stuff, that you shouldn't put yourself through just for a few experiences? And I'll get tested too, just so you're sure I'm clean.”

“I trust you, Yoon, I don't want you to go through that trouble.”

“It's no trouble, really, I've been meaning to do it anyways, just to be safe.” not that his own sex life was a particularly crazy one at that, and he always wore a condom. 

“This is exciting. Nerve-wracking but exciting.” you giggled, looking at him as your fingers gently traced his knuckles. 

This was the longest you had ever touched each other, even if it was just a simple hand holding. And his insides were already churning and he felt like he could pass out at any given moment, blood wasn’t reaching all the way to his brain apparently. He couldn’t even comprehend what it would be like to be intimate with you. 

“I'm glad you think so.” he said with a low chuckle. 

“Now we just... set up a time and place?” 

“Mhmm.” he nodded, as there wasn’t much else he could do with how mentally frozen he was. 

“Okay, but I really want to start fixing these chapters, so can you give me something today?” you asked sheepishly, fingers tightening around his. 

“What?” 

“Can you show me how to kiss?” was your request, and Yoongi’s eyes fell to your mouth on command.

“You've kissed before.” it wasn’t a question, but an affirmation. In fact, Yoongi had seen you kiss someone before. 

It was years ago, during a stupid game of truth or dare –which was Jimin’s idea– during one of Taehyung’s house parties. Namjoon had thought it would be a good idea to make the two of you play, no doubt another ploy to get something to happen between the two of you. But luck was never on Yoongi’s side and you were dared to kiss another guy; some dude named Seo-joon that Tae knew from acting class. 

“Yeah, but it was never satisfactory and I lack skills.” you told him, bringing him back to the present. “Besides, it might be good to break the ice. Make sure things don’t get awkward between us after I leave.”

“Why would things get awkward–”

“Are you saying you’re not going to overthink everything that just happened as soon as I walk out of this studio?” you challenged with a little grin and Yoongi rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Alright, I’ll kiss you.” he agreed, and there’s no way he ever thought he’d be saying those words to you. 

“Gee, Yoon, thanks.” you were giggling as you got up from the couch to stand in the middle of the studio. “Try to pretend to be into it, at least.” 

If you only knew. 

Yoongi got up on wobbly legs, but pretended to stretch his back to get his body work properly. Walking the two steps it took to reach you was the most nerve wrecking course he ever had to take. But at least you looked as nervous as he felt, even if you were doing your best to mask it. 

You stood in front of each other, awkwardly staring at one another, hands on your sides. And Yoongi knew he had to move. He had to take the lead, he was the one meant to be showing you how things worked, of course you wouldn’t take the first step. And unless he wanted you to change your mind and actually go to Hoseok instead, he had to act fast. 

“Do you need a step by step guide?” he asked in a low voice, as if sharing a secret. 

“I know how it works, I’m not that inexperienced.” you giggled, hitting his chest playfully. 

Yoongi took your wrist as your hand landed on his chest in your pillowy light attempt of provoking him, bringing your hand up to rest it on the back of his neck. He didn’t miss the way your breath hitched, or your giggles replaced a soft gasp as his other arm circled your waist to bring your body flush against his, or even how your fingers softly threaded through the long hairs at his nape. 

A lot was on the line when it came to this kiss, Yoongi realized wearily. It would be your first kiss together, something he only ever daydreamed about before. And it would set the tone for your future interactions. You could just as well change your mind after it, and it would not only be a blow to his self-esteem, but also his pride. 

“It’s just me.” you said in a meek voice that did nothing to calm his nerves. 

“I know.” 

That’s the problem, he wanted to say. 

Yoongi’s free hand touched the side of your face to tilt it up towards him, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. With a teeny sigh, your eyes fluttered closed and Yoongi took that chance to study your face, as he had never seen you so up close like this before. Even if you changed your mind later, he still committed your every trace, every little detail about you that he possibly could. 

From your dark, long lashes that kissed the apples of your cheeks, to the outline of your cupid’s bow and your plump bottom lip. As you were about to open your eyes again, Yoongi pressed his lips to yours and you pulled back. Not enough for your mouths to part, but with a little surprised reaction. Thankfully, and before Yoongi’s anxieties could settle in, you moved closer to him again, pulling him towards you by the back of his neck. 

Yoongi’s lips started moving against yours, hesitantly, but his second guessing went out the non-existing windows of his studio as you followed his lead and moved yours along with his. 

Your mouths moved together slowly, his tongue sliding between his lips to lick between yours and you crooned; a small sound that Yoongi didn’t want to focus on, unless he wanted all of his blood to run south. 

“Relax your jaw for me.” Yoongi mumbled, not wanting to go too far. 

Your hand tensed on his neck as your breath grew a little heavier and you did just as he requested, lips parting wider so his tongue could finally slip into your mouth. Yoongi cradled your face by your jaw, feeling it move as your tongues brushed together. 

He could taste your peach flavored lip balm and right then he decided it was his favorite flavor in the world. Your other hand was resting on his chest and Yoongi wondered if you could feel just how fast his heart was beating as you tipped your head sideways so he could deepen the kiss. 

It made his own hand slip to the back of your neck, hold turning firm as he kept you in place to lick around your mouth, exploring it as if he wanted to map it out. 

You pulled away first, having a hard time breathing, which did wonders for Yoongi’s swelling pride, but he wasn't ready to let you go just yet, acting on instinct and taking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

It was worth it as your surprised gasp turned into a moan, making the man smirk. It eventually made him let go of your lip and he watched as your eyes opened; as blown out as his probably were. 

“That was… Good, right?” you asked in a breathy tone that Yoongi wanted to hear more of. 

“Really good, yeah.” he nodded, so close to your face, hands still holding you close. “If the rest of it is anything like this, you don’t have anything to worry about.” 

SEPTEMBER 23RD | 17:41

Yoongi’s apartment wasn’t the biggest one, but his producer salary allowed him to have enough room to fit all of his friends comfortably whenever they decided to use his place as a hang out spot. Is not that he hated to have friends over, if anything Yoongi really enjoyed hosting and cooking for everybody. But the bunch could get rowdy, and Yoongi was left cleaning up the aftermath alone most of the time. 

The group-chat had decided that their Saturday plans should include movie night at Yoongi’s place, just because of his soundproof walls and surround sound system that matched his big flat screen TV. Yoongi enjoyed few things in life, not really one to flaunt his status as one of the most sought out Korean producers of present times, but he was proud of his entertainment set up. 

A light rain was falling outside, the pitter patter of the drops of the early autumn falls being drawn out by the music video playing on the television as he and his so-called-best-friend organized the living room before the rest of the group arrived. 

“I don't know why you're mad at me.” Namjoon was saying as he pulled out the seat cushions of Yoongi’s dark gray couch to make it just a little longer and more comfortable to be laid on for the duration of the movie. 

“Really.” Yoongi deadpanned from the kitchen as he rummaged through his food cupboard in search of the kind of microwavable popcorn you liked.  “You have nooo idea?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, I might have acted with mischief, but I meant what I said–”

“In what world did you think that telling her to find someone to have sex with was a good idea?” Yoongi finally snapped, letting the popcorn packets drop to the kitchen island with a smack. “What if she went after some rando at a club?” 

“I see your point, hyung, but she didn't!” Namjoon tried to apologize by doing a better job of fluffing the cushions. “She went after you!”

“Thank fuck for that.”

Namjoon stepped away from the couch to look at his OCD-friendly set up, making sure the decorative cushions were symmetrically parted from each other and the wool blankets Yoongi always had laying around were folded in perfect squares. Yoongi liked his apartment to be a little on the colder side, and he wasn’t ready to let go of summer just yet, but he also got cold easily. 

“Shouldn't you be thankful that you got to kiss the girl of your dreams?” Namjoon turned to his older friend, walking to the kitchen to inspect the snacks that were already littering the dark marble island. “And you'll be doing a lot more than that–”

“I don’t know if I am.” Yoongi confessed with a sigh, which picked Namjoon’s curiosity. 

“Why not?”

“She– It’s been a week and nothing else happened.” Yoongi shrugged, as if trying to downplay it and mask his disappointment. 

“Haven’t you seen each other again since that day at your studio?” Namjoon leaned over the island to read the label on the honey and mustard chips, but his attentive eyes always went back to him. 

“We have. We were never alone, though, because Jimin and Jungkook were there when we had takeout, and then everyone was at Jin's on game night.” Yoongi recalled all of the times he managed to see you during this past week. 

“True, but you did look closer during game night.” Namjoon offered, but Yoongi scoffed. “I'm serious! She was always touching your arm, sitting closer to you... hugging you when you scored a point.”

“She's always like that with everyone, I'm not reading into it.” Yoongi refused to see things where there weren’t, because he knew that he would be the one broken hearted at the end of whatever this was. 

“Yeah, but she wasn't like that with you.” Namjoon pointed out. 

“Because she knows I'm not clingy like the rest of you.” Yoongi rebutted. 

“She picked you to be on her team, and you're a bad player!” 

“Hey!”

“Am I wrong?” Namjoon arched an eyebrow, dropping the bag of chips back onto the counter, which made Yoongi flinch, thinking about the broken snacks. “Didn’t think so. She usually goes for Kook because that kid is good at everything.”

“Of course, just something else I come second in.”

Yoongi didn’t mean to sound so bitter. He didn’t even intend on speaking out loud in the first place. But he did, and Namjoon raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his friend prodded, and Yoongi had no choice but to turn his back and pretend to be searching for something as he replied:

“She said Jungkook is her type.”

“Really? So... gay af, pouts like a baby, dresses like a hobo most of the time?” Namjoon chuckled fondly of the maknae of their weird friend group. 

“I think it's more like muscles, piercings and tattoos.” he couldn’t sound more dejected if he tried. 

“Is that why you're wearing your hoops again?” Namjoon’s laughter grew louder, pointing at his own pierced ears as he looked at Yoongi’s. “And why are you going to the gym again?”

“No– how do you know I went to the gym?”

“Hobi told me he ran into you. It's cool though. I’m not here to judge.” 

Namjoon better not judge him, as he was the one to get Yoongi in this mess in the first place. Yeah, he had unrequited feelings for you, and yeah, he imagined plenty of what if scenarios where he grew the balls to ask you out, or make a move on you. But was this the way his friend had to help him out? By planting ideas in your head and making you offer him something like this? 

Yoongi’s heated thought process was interrupted as his phone started to buzz inside his pants pocket and his heart skipped a beat when he read the name on the notifications.

“Oof, that friendzone gotta hurt.” Namjoon said, over Yoongi’s shoulder. His height gave him an advantage that was almost as annoying as his nosy tendencies. 

“I swear to fucking god–” Yoongi rasped, shutting his phone and shoving it in his pocket. 

“Hey, at least you might get a handy today, huh?” the younger man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, running away before Yoongi could throw a bag of chips on his head. “And clearly your kiss can't have been that bad, if she's coming to you for help again.”

“Not helping, Joonah.” 

Your text did light him up a little bit, and Namjoon wasn’t all that wrong. If you were asking him for help with whatever it was you needed, you didn’t change your mind about this, and you didn’t go to someone else for it; friend or foe. 

You didn’t specify just what you needed help with, but Yoongi took a longer shower just in case, scrubbing his body from top to bottom, brushing his teeth just a little harder, blow drying his hair just a little fluffier. Just in case. 

You might just ask him questions and not actually want to do anything, but on the off chance that you did, Yoongi wanted to be ready for you. 

He wasn’t proud to say that he spent just a little longer inside his decent sized closet deciding on what to wear. Yoongi didn’t want to try too hard, as it would make things too obvious, but he also didn’t think sweats and a white t-shirt were good enough either. But then again, if Jeon Jungkook was your ideal type, maybe he could grab oversized black clothes and call it a night. 

“Everyone is already here, hyung.” Namjoon said from the outside of his door, and that’s when Yoongi started to rush. 

He ended up picking a pair of jeans with holes on the knees, but that was nicely fitted on his hips, and a soft blue sweater with some green at the end of the sleeves. Hoping he didn’t go too hard on his favorite cologne, Yoongi left his bedroom to find the seven of you already taking over his living room and kitchen space. 

Jimin and Taehyung were being disgusting on his couch, giggling as they looked over something on the former’s phone. Jungkook and Seokjin were sitting on the floor, looking up at the TV as they clearly searched for something to watch tonight. Hoseok and Namjoon were in the kitchen, helping you make popcorn. 

Microwave popcorn shouldn’t be so hard that it took three people to make it, but you had a routine. You hated it when you took it out too early, meaning half the corn didn’t have time to pop, but it was even worse to leave it in the machine for too long so that it burned. So it took one of you sniffing for any hint of burnt popcorn, another one to pilot the STOP and ON buttons, and a third one listening in for the popping sounds. 

And, of course, it took giving you a good look over to almost stop Yoongi’s heart altogether. 

Just because you had no business looking so damn pretty all the time. 

Today you were wearing one of Yoongi’s favorite styles on you; a lilac suede overall dress that made you look like a cute gardener with a long sleeved shirt under it. Your hair was falling in soft waves, as if you had taken the time to style them before coming, which made Yoongi wonder if you had the same thought process as he had. 

“Hyung! There you are!” Hoseok announced his presence for everyone to hear, in that chirpy way of his, and Yoongi’s ears burned a little as the attention of the room landed on him. “The popcorn is almost– wait, wait, stop!” 

“Stopping!” you announced, clicking on the button to pause the microwave. “That was a close one, commander.” 

Yoongi couldn’t help the little chuckle he let out while watching you and his two best friend’s dramatics, shoulders shaking a little, gums probably out for the others to see. 

“Have you gotten from here, Joon?” you turned to the taller man, who nodded while taking the last popcorn packet from the microwave. 

You turned towards Yoongi again, who seemed frozen in place until that very moment. You grabbed the three tubs of popcorn that were already ready and took them with you to the couch, nodding your head for Yoongi to follow you. And he was a little socially awkward by nature, but he didn’t think he made a fool out of himself as the others knew he was more on the quiet side most of the time. 

“Alright, who let the maknaes choose the movie?” you were saying as you stepped on the soft black rug that took over half of the living room. 

“Who are you calling a maknae–” Seokjin threw a glare over his shoulder, one you answered with a scrunch of your nose. 

“What’s wrong with our movie taste, noona?” Jungkook asked you, about to pout. 

You handed Jungkook and Seokjin a tub of popcorn, and another one to Taehyung and Jimin, keeping the last one for yourself as you sat down in the middle of the couch, having to scoot a little awkwardly as if your overall-dress made it hard for you to move. 

“The problem is not your taste in movies, but you never agree on anything.” Yoongi supplied, making you nod in agreement. “Jungkook-ah is going to either pick a superhero movie that we’ve all seen before, or a horror movie, and hyung will be too scared to watch anything with serial killers or ghosts and shit.” 

“That’s because I live alone and have an old man's bladder and don’t like having to run from demons on the way back from the bathroom, in the middle of the night, thank you very much!” Seokjin complained in that rushed way of his, making you giggle. 

Namjoon and Hoseok joined the rest of you in the living room, with the last tub of popcorn. The packs of chips and other snacks were already on the center table, alongside glasses of soda. 

Yes, Yoongi was still standing, but that’s because he always had to be the last one to sit down. Everyone always complained that they didn’t know how to work the lighting system of his smart home, and Yoongi had to be the one to dim the lights low enough so the television was the focus point, but not dark enough that they couldn’t see anything else. 

When Yoongi finally made his way to the couch, everyone was already paired up and laying down with their snacks of choice. 

Jimin had exchanged his best friend for his boyfriend and was now sitting between Jungkook’s legs, resting against his chest. Tae was still sitting beside them, never minding the third willing. You were right in the middle of the couch, where it was your preferred spot. Hoseok was right next to you, followed by Namjoon and Seokjin. 

Before Yoongi could walk to the edge of the couch, to join the hyung, you spoke: 

“Hobi, can you scoot over a little?” you asked the man with little taps to his thigh. “Come sit next to me, Yoon.” 

The living room was silent as everyone stared at Yoongi once again, just another proof that the only person oblivious to his feelings toward you was, well, you. But at least Yoongi wasn’t completely awkward when it came to you; there was no stumbling, no hesitating, no fumbling around as space was opened on the sofa so he could sit between you and Hoseok. 

You handed him the popcorn you were about to share as you unfolded one of the wool blankets and threw it over your legs, more concerned about covering your legs and getting comfortable than actually escaping the cold. While the younger boys bickered over the final movie choice and which sound configuration was best for the settled genre, the three other guys started a heated discussion over something political they heard on the news.

When Yoongi looked at you, you were already looking at him. 

“I like your ripped pants.” you said with an easy smile, reaching to slip two fingers inside the wide holes on his knees. “Didn’t know you had things like this.” 

“That’s because hyung’s fashion sense only includes either a blazer and white shirt or dress pants and a hoodie.” Jimin teased from the other side. 

“I’m sorry I’m not into Chelsea boots and skinny jeans.” Yoongi scoffed, which wasn’t really a jab at Jimin’s fashion sense. Even Yoongi could admit the blonde man knew how to dress better than most. 

“You’re forgiven.” Jimin was grinning, which was noticeable even in the dimmed atmosphere of the room. 

Your fingers were still tracing random patterns on his knee as you said: “Don’t listen to Jiminie, I like your style.” 

“Thanks. I like yours too.” he said, which somehow made you giggle. 

“You don’t think I look like a little girl?” you asked in what must have been a moment of self doubt. 

“Nah, just cute.” 

You smiled appreciatively at him, throwing half of the blanket over Yoongi’s legs so you could share. He handed you the tub with popcorn and the movie finally started; the thumping of the bass from the intro not the only thing making his heart accelerate. 

The group ended up deciding on a new movie with a few known actors, like IU –the only woman Jungkook would ever turn straight for–, no demons to scare Seokjin, and no blood to make Taehyung queasy. 

The drama wasn’t Yoongi’s particular cup of tea, but he wouldn’t be paying attention to it anyways. Not when you felt so warm sitting so close to him, smelling so good. And not when his brain was filled with the possibilities of what was coming next, after everyone had left. 

You and Yoongi shared the popcorn, hands brushing every now and then as if you were in a teen movie. You didn’t seem to notice it, however, engrossed in the movie. You had tears in your eyes during some of the more emotionally heavy scenes, but held them in pretty well. 

While you could. 

Thirty minutes into the movie and the popcorn was over, the tub resting somewhere on the floor, and you were aggressively wiping tears from your eyes with your sleeves. 

“Just let her keep her baby.” you said under your breath, moving your arm under Yoongi’s so you could hug it like a safety blanket, cheek pressed hard against his shoulder. “They will be okay, right?” 

“Mhm, yeah. Everything is going to be fine.” 

Yoongi had no way of knowing that, especially when it came to this kind of movie. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try to soothe you. You nodded softly in response, snuggling into his arm a little harder, pressing your body to his completely. You were exactly like this, Yoongi told  himself. You’d be clinging to whoever was sitting next to you, and it just so happened to be him. 

That was okay, he told himself as he quietly sniffed your hair, because, at least right now, it was him you were clinging to. 

SEPTEMBER 23RD | 22:15

It wasn’t surprising the way Yoongi was a lot more relaxed by the end of the movie, but it was a little shameful that he grew more and more at ease as his friends started to take their leave. Yoongi dealt better with smaller groups of people at a time, even if he loved every one of his friends; yes, even Jungkook and all his piercings and tattoos. It wasn’t the maknae’s fault that you were apparently so attracted to him when you first met. 

Hell, even Yoongi caught himself gawking at Jungkook whenever he put a little more effort into looking good; like when he combed his hair off his forehead, or wore the black jeans that may or may not belong to Jimin. 

“You guys can leave it, I’ll do it.” Yoongi insisted as you and Hoseok continued to clean up the living room. 

“It’s alright, hyung, I don’t mind.” Hoseok told him as he knelt on the rug to pick up stray pieces of popcorn and chips that eventually made it to the floor. “We’ll just finish it up and go. I’ll drive you home when we’re done.” 

“Me?” you blinked, as Hoseok clearly meant you, eyes moving to Yoongi as you silently asked for help. “Thank’s, but I’m not going home yet.” 

“Oh.” Hoseok nodded. Then stopped. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second and his neck almost snapped with how fast he turned to Yoongi’s direction, sending him a sly grin. “Ohh.” 

Yoongi was shaking his head at Hoseok, with wide eyes and behind your back, telling his friend to cut it out as you picked up the empty boxes of pizza. Hobi winked in slow motion and sent Yoongi a thumbs up, which made him sigh. 

The job of tying it up the living room and kitchen was a lot easier now that he had more help, and fifteen minutes later, the dishes were washed, the couch was clear of any mess, and Yoongi was walking Hoseok out of his apartment. 

“So.” Hoseok spoke quietly, which Yoongi appreciated, but it still made him cringe a little on the inside as his friend teased: “You two, huh?” 

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Yoongi stated, holding the front door open while the younger man put his shoes on. 

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” Hoseok squinted his eyes, but his knowing smile was enough to make Yoongi’s ears burn. 

“I can assure you.” Yoongi chuckled, as there was no way his friend would ever be able to guess why you were staying longer tonight. “Night, Hobah.” 

Hoseok waited as the elevator dinged and walked in after the automatic doors opened for him, singing: “Goodnight, hyung. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” 

And, just like that, he was gone and Yoongi could breathe a little easier. And, just like that, you were alone together after what felt like ages. 

Yoongi found you sitting on the couch, looking a little tired, eyes still a little red from when you cried at the end of the movie. He mustn’t look so hot either, social battery on its lowest setting. At least he never felt like he needed to try hard with you, surprisingly. There was never a need to be entertaining, to talk more than he wanted to, to constantly search for something to do. 

He could just sit next to you and do nothing, and it didn’t feel awkward, you were never bothered by his quieter moments. You also had a way of bringing out his other sides, too; the joker, the one with the weird noises and funky dances, and also the deep one that could talk about music for hours and had random facts to spill. 

“Movie nights are fun, but you always look a little dead after.” you giggled, and it wasn’t even an insult. Yoongi felt a little dead as he sat down next to you, relaxing into his couch cushion. 

“I know I’m not that much older than them, but sometimes I feel like I can't keep up.” he chuckled with closed eyes, basking on the quietude that was only ever broken by your giggles.

“Okay, grandpa. Do you want me to leave?” you offered, which made Yoongi open his eyes and look at you. 

By now, the mood lights in the living room had been put into a brighter setting than during the movie, but not uncomfortably so. Yoongi could still see the blush on your cheeks, the hesitation in your eyes and the way your fingers fiddled with each other. 

Yoongi didn’t want you to leave, however. No matter how tired or drained he felt, this was the first time he had a chance to be alone with you all week. And when the last memory he had of a moment like this came along with the feeling of your lips on him, he really wanted you to stay. 

“Not really.” he replied, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but he thought he saw you breathe a little easier. “You, uh, needed help, right?”

“Yeah, but I can just come back another time, I don't mind.” you assured him, always one to worry about his boundaries and need for the occasional alone time. It warmed his heart, in more ways than one. 

“I promise I'm fine, doll. You said something about your book?” Yoongi wasn’t trying to push, in case you changed your mind, but your eager nod as he mentioned it made him sit up a little straighter on the sofa. 

“Okay, so, I was reading chapter eleven again and I really agreed with Joon's notes on it.” you said as you turned a little more to the side, so you were facing him. 

“Which were?”

“It wasn't realistic, the, uh, sexy scene.” you explained with a nibble on your bottom lip, the blush was dusted on your cheeks again. “Just because there are things that I don't exactly know how they happen.”

“Okay. You wanna ask me about it?”

“Sure. But I was hoping that showing me might work better?” there it was, the hesitation again. Your words were already causing something to stir in Yoongi’s lower belly, but he kept his cool. “Maybe. If you're okay with that.”

“You need to tell me what it is first, doll, or I can't tell you that.” he chuckled, hoping it would help you relax a little more around him. 

Not that Yoongi wasn’t having a little moment of nervous anxiety himself, this was you, he didn’t think he’d ever be completely cool about any of this. But he wanted to help you, and he wanted to be good for you. Even if the only chance he ever got to do that was purely platonic. 

“Right, right, just... I feel kinda bad now that we're here.” you said with a frown, reaching out on instinct to thread your pinky through his. 

“Did you change your mind? Because that’s okay, too, we can just forget about it.” Yoongi had to swallow a lump in his throat, but he meant every word. 

“No, not at all... I just feel like I'm using you in a way.” you said, eyes downcast as you looked at your linked fingers. You let out a small laugh, but it was a bitter one. “This is ridiculous, right? I'm sitting here, about to ask you to show me how you get hard. And what do you get in return?”

Yoongi’s breath intake was a little harsh as he held back a groan, fingers flexing of their own accord. In what should be a joke to lighten the mood, but that immediately made him fluster, he said: “An orgasm, maybe?”

“Be serious.” you rolled your pretty eyes, but an even prettier smile broke on your face. 

“I am! Unless you want to see how it goes down naturally as well?” Yoongi really hoped you said no. 

“No, that's not part of it. There's something else I want, but–”

“Oh?”

“–we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

The possibilities were making Yoongi’s mind go a little hazy, butterflies that felt more like bats in the cave of his stomach, and his dick was already twitching in his pants. So much so that he feared  he might get hard before you even had the chance to actually see it happen. 

“Kay. How do you wanna do this?”

“Uh, I really didn't think this far.” you admitted sheepishly. 

“Do you wanna help?” Yoongi asked, wondering if you wanted him to pull it out and touch himself into full hardness, or if you wanted in on it. “I can guide you.”

“That might be better, yes.” you nodded, too cute for what was about to happen, and scooted even closer to him so your knees were pressed against his thigh.

Was he really about to do this? Was Yoongi actually going to drop his pants, show you his cock, and let you study him like a guinea pig? God, don’t let this get awkward, he was reasoning to whoever was out there listening. He didn’t want to scare you with it either, as it wouldn’t be good for your kinky-field-search, and even worse for his own pride, so he asked: 

“You don't want to start the chapter with the guy just pulling it out, right?” bringing it back to your book might be easier to set the scene for the two of you, too. “You wanna tease the reader as much as you wanna tease your character.” 

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“You might wanna start with some light making out?” he offered, words taking a turn and missing his brain filter altogether. 

Your eyes widened just a little, instantly dropping to his lips. “Should we?”

“We don't have to. I'm just telling you what might work well on a scene.” he lied. 

“What if I want to?”

Yoongi thought he might be dreaming again as you moved first, leaning closer to him to press your lips together just once, just a peck. Nervous eyes stared up at him as you pulled back but didn’t go all too far. 

“Is this okay?” you asked in a whisper.

“Mm. Shouldn't I be asking that?” Yoongi spoke as quietly as you, his hand reaching out to push your hair behind your ear. 

“I'm not sure.” you looked at his lips again, with a small nervous laugh as your hand rested on his thigh. 

“I’m okay with it.” he told you, holding back from lunging for your lips again. 

“Me too. Definitely.”

That was all Yoongi needed to slip his hand to the back of your neck and drag you into another kiss. This time it was longer, a little harder than the soft peck. He moved his mouth first and you followed suit, slightly parting your lips for his tongue to slip into yours. Your little breathy sounds, paired with the tightening of your hand on his thigh, were making Yoongi a little dizzy. 

You were melting into his kiss, following every lick and every flick of his tongue, allowing him to dictate the pace, deepen the kiss when he wanted. It wasn’t missed on Yoongi how much trust you actually put on him to have these experiences with, and he would make sure you never regretted it. 

Even if nothing ever came of this, he wouldn’t burden you with his broken heart, but continue to support you and be there for you regardless. 

As your hand started moving on his thigh, hiking up, Yoongi groaned against your lips and you swallowed the noise, replying to it with a tiny moan. Yoongi took your bottom lip into his mouth and sucked on it gently, which made your hand squeeze at his thigh and he parted his legs for you in an invitation. 

You didn’t move it to where Yoongi wanted and when he let go of your lip and studied your face, he understood why. He could see how reluctant and shy you looked, eyes pleading with him to help you just a little more. 

“It’s okay.” he assured you, voice coming out raspy. “Give me your hand.” 

You put your palm in his and when Yoongi gently tugged it closer to his ever growing bulge, there was no pulling back, no halting. Just the fear of not knowing what to do. You let out a little gasp as Yoongi placed your hand over the outline of his cock, molding your fingers around it so you could feel all of him. 

“Oh my god.” you breathed out with a little laugh. 

“Too much?” he checked, loosening the hold on your hand in case you wished to pull back. 

But now that you were let go of, you didn’t retreat, but started touching him, over his pants, at your own accord. You squeezed a little, testing the pressure, tracing the length, and Yoongi’s head fell against the back of the couch, eyes hooded and stuck on you, reading your every reaction. 

Small sighs and groans left his lips each time you did something he really liked, which made you ask:

“Does it feel nice?” your whole hand was palming at his crotch and he had to suppress the need to push his hips into your hand, only managing to nod. “You look so good like this.” 

The praise was too much, and he didn’t want to cum inside his pants, just from this, so he chose to stare into the ceiling instead. It did little to quell his worries of not lasting long as you took it as an invitation to kiss his neck. Your lips felt as soft as they did against his and the way you let your tongue lick at his heated skin made him bite back a moan. 

“Can I see you?” you asked in a whiny tone, delivered to his ear, making his cock jump. He wondered if you could feel it. 

“Yeah.” Yoongi nodded and you moved your hand back to his thigh, leaving his neck with one last kiss under his jaw. It was his turn to become a little embarrassed as he said: “Uh, you should know, dicks are pretty different from one another, so.”

“I know, I’ve seen dicks before.” you giggled. “I’ve watched porn, Yoon.” 

Right. 

Yoongi cursed at himself, because of course you knew what a dick was supposed to look like. You might be inexperienced when it came to having practice, but you weren’t sheltered, you weren’t naive, and you clearly weren’t innocent; not with the type of stuff you wrote about. At least your giggle calmed him down a little, and his own embarrassment made his impending release recede. 

He pushed his sleeves all the way up to his elbows and pulled the hem of the sweater from the inside of his pants, revealing a small strip of skin of his lower stomach for you. Yoongi didn’t know what your little gasp meant, but he chose to believe it was positive. You adjusted yourself on the couch as his fingers reached his pants’ button and fly, squeezing your thighs together as he pulled them down. 

Not trying to drag this out or make a mystery of it, Yoongi lifted his hips to push his pants and underwear to the middle of his thighs; a quick pull off of a bandaid, so to speak. His cock jumped free, resting against his lower belly. Hard, leaking pre-cum, the tip a familiar shade of darker pink. 

He really regretted not masturbating in the shower before everyone arrived, because at least the edge would be off and Yoongi wouldn’t need to fear getting off the moment you touched him for the first time. 

You didn’t do much at first, and Yoongi was almost afraid to look at you and find disappointment in your eyes. Your eyes were a little glossy as your tongue poked between your pouty lips. When you noticed his gaze was on you, the spell broke and you reacted. 

“You– Uhm. That’s a big one, right?” you asked with a flushed face and neck. “I know I said I’ve seen them, and I know what it’s supposed to be like, but. I didn’t expect it to be so long? And fat.” 

Your choice of words made Yoongi laugh, an actual belly laugh, shaking shoulders and everything. It made your eyes widen as you blinked cutely, clearly embarrassed. 

“Thanks, doll.” he grinned as his laughter subsided. “And yeah, I’m a little above average.” 

“A little?” your eyebrow arched in suspicion as your eyes followed the movement of his hand as he held his cock, squeezing a little to alleviate some of the ache. “Since when are you modest?” 

“Alright, I have a big dick.” he agreed with a shrug as he took a leap of faith and kissed your cheek with a hot smack. 

“That’s more like the Yoongi I know and love.” you giggled, clearly oblivious to the way your words affected him. 

Yoongi knew you meant in a friendly kind of love, he felt the same way towards you. But his feelings went a little beyond that, which caused his heart to clench and expand in his chest as he basked in your love, however innocent and platonic it was. 

“Can I touch you?” you asked and Yoongi really wanted to say you could do anything at all to him. 

“Go ahead.” 

This is the part Yoongi thought would be weird. In his mind, maybe he pictured you poking him in the dick, giggling like a schoolgirl, maybe frowning or looking a little disgusted. God knows that he didn’t really know what to do when he saw a pussy for the first time. 

But you were gentle with the way your fingertips touched him, following the vein on the underside of it, using your thumb to spread the leaking pre-cum around his velvety tip. You were paying attention, yes, and studying him. But it didn’t make him feel under a microscope. If anything, it made Yoongi feel appreciated. 

Your small hand wrapped around his cock and Yoongi sighed, his free hand was resting next to you on the sofa and he had to hold back the urge of touching you. Your thigh was so close to his hand that he could feel the warmth emanating from you, but you hadn’t talked about it yet and he feared you might not like that. 

For now he had to appreciate the feeling of your hand on him, which was more than he ever thought he’d get. 

When you let go of him, Yoongi feared that might be it, all you needed from him tonight, that you’d tell him you gathered all the information you needed for the chapter. He missed your touch already and having to touch himself after you left would not only be sad, but a little pathetic. 

You were full of surprises, however, as you brought your hand to your lips and sucked on your tongue, letting your spit fall on your palm. You did know what you were doing after all, as he didn’t need to instruct you when your hand got back to his cock and you spread your spit all over him. 

There were things you were trying, Yoongi noticed as he let go of his shaft in order to allow you to take over. The more you touched him, the more confident you grew, tugging him a little harder, jerking him a little faster. When you fisted at his tip, your small hand wrapping around it and squeezing as your wrist flicked, Yoongi’s moan was too loud. 

“Oh, you like that.” it wasn’t a question, but an affirmation as you repeated it one more time before dropping your hand in a tight ‘o’ all the way down to his base. 

“Yeah, it’s uhm–sensitive.” 

Yoongi was breathing heavily as you tugged and stroked his cock. You were a little messy, a bit awkward at times, not really following a steady rhythm, but Yoongi found out that he liked that. 

“I can feel you pulsing.” you commented in awe, letting out small whines that were half the cause for that very throbbing you were feeling against your palm. “Does that mean you’re close?” 

“Not always.” he shook his head, not sure if he rather look at his cock disappearing and poking out from your fist, or your pretty face as you were obviously getting hot and bothered by this. “But I am.” 

That last information seemed to light a whole new fire within you, making your movements a little more firm and determined. You teased his slit with your thumb as the rest of your hand worked on the underside of his head, making him let out raspy moans, sweat starting to cling at his skin. 

It took him completely by surprise as your free hand dipped into his hair and you stared at his lips until Yoongi took the hint and leaned in the rest of the way to capture your lips with his. He couldn’t really kiss you properly, not in the way that he wanted to, and it basically meant that he was moaning against your lips and licking around your mouth more than actually kissing, but it was tearing whines from you either way, and your movements never stopped. 

“Gonna cum, baby–” 

The term of endearment was a slip, one that Yoongi would justify by being in the throes of the moment if you ever asked him about it, and not because he dreamed about calling you baby for years now. You didn’t complain, however, as you flicked your wrist in an upstroke, in that way you already knew he liked, and you squeezed at his hair just as he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Yoongi felt his lower stomach tense, his cock throb as it felt impossibly hard and borderline painful. He let go of what was holding him back and allowed himself to enjoy the pleasure the girl of his dreams was giving him; thick ribbons of white shooting out of his tip as he groaned what sounded a lot like your name. 

You pulled away from his lips to look as the last strings leaked out, movements slowing down, but not completely stopping. 

“That was beautiful.” you said in that breathy tone that let Yoongi know you were affected. “You’re so beautiful, Yoongi.” 

“Stop that.” he chuckled, cheeks flustered as he watched you milk his cock of the last drops. “I’m the one who had an orgasm, you’re not supposed to be the delirious one.”

“I mean it.” you assured him, not an ounce of doubt in your words. “You’re incredible.” 

"You're the one who did all the work, doll." 

You giggled softly because you agreed, letting his softening cock go as you rested it against his stomach. Clearly you didn't know what to do next, and Yoongi intended on getting up to clean himself up, grab some tissues to clean your hand, he just needed a couple of minutes to catch his breath. 

Yoongi watched as you brought your dirty hand to your face to sniff his release and then swipe your tongue, licking at his cum. It made him groan and intake a breath, wanting to laugh at your childish curiosity. Your nose scrunched a little, obviously surprised, but you weren't gaging, which was a good thing. 

"That's stronger than I thought." was your conclusion. "Not horrible, though."

Yoongi wanted to tell you that the taste and the way cum looked changed a little,  depending on how many times and how often people with dicks had sex or masturbated, but that would include telling you that his sex life was practically nonexistent and even his solo time was cut short by his long studio hours. 

"Can I wash my hands on your sink?" you asked  already up from the couch and walking a little funny as you tried to play it cool. 

"Sure."

Yoongi could only imagine why you were walking like that, wondering if your panties were so wet with your arousal that you were a little uncomfortable. Of course that would mean that you actually enjoyed yourself while jerking him off, that it wasn't purely for your research. 

And then again, didn't he already know that? He saw the way you looked at him, he heard your little mewls and moans and you didn't have to kiss him like that but you still did. 

When you got back to the couch, your hand was clean and you were offering him a paper towel so he could clean himself too, realizing then that he was just sitting there, pants still around his thighs and cock out. He felt a little silly, but took the paper and wiped himself as best as he could before tucking himself back into his underwear and buttoning his pants in place. 

"I had fun tonight." you told him, in what should be a way of saying goodbye, but it didn't match the way you settled on his couch once more, folding your legs under you  

"Yeah? You seemed to enjoy the movie." Yoongi turned toward you after bunching the paper towel in a sticky ball and throwing it at his center table. 

"I mean with you." you half whispered, tapping your bottom lip as an irrational movement, which inevitably dragged Yoongi’s eyes to them. "I'm glad I came to you with this."

"So you haven't changed your mind?" 

You shook your head, lighting up with a smile as you said: "I'm excited to try more." 

"Like what?" Yoongi had suggestions of his own, but this was about you so he didn't want to project his own wishes and wants on you. 

And, thankfully, you were pretty good at telling him what you wanted, despite how shy you got while at it. 

"Maybe you could do something to me next time?" you offered, Yoongi nodded. "Like… whatever you feel like."

"Want me to eat you out?" 

"Are you offering or asking me?" you replied, eyes a little wide, breath a little dragged. 

"Same thing, doll." 

"Okay." 

You agreed softly and it was all Yoongi needed to pull his legs up and crawl to you. Your eyes only grew as you watched him approach, hands resting on his chest as he began laying you down on his couch, gazes stuck to each other. 

“Y–you mean n–now?” you stuttered and even that sounded cute to Yoongi. 

“Is that okay?” he paused, nose an inch away from yours. 

“Yeah.” you sighed, letting your back fall against the couch, head resting on the arm of the sofa. 

“Stop me anytime you want.” Yoongi told you, leaning forward to peck your lips. “Or tell me to keep going when you like something.” 

“I’m convinced I’ll like everything coming from you.” you admitted with a shy chuckle, hands on each side of Yoongi’s neck as you kept him there to kiss his lips a little longer. 

“I sure hope so.” his laugh was easy, as was everything when it came to you. No matter how complicated his feelings were. 

Yoongi dragged his lips against your skin, from your jaw and down to your throat. Your legs parted for him to fit in between them and as your hands got lost in his long hair, making him grunt appreciatively each time you pulled, it felt like an invitation for him to touch you, to feel you. He trusted that you would stop him if you didn’t want any of it, and you never did. 

This didn’t feel like an agreement, didn’t feel like he was doing you a favor by showing you how things worked, making you feel things for the sake of gathering experience for your book. So it was easy to forget that’s all it was, and even easier to feel like you were lovers. 

Yoongi’s hands were roaming your body, touching your sides until he reached your thigh. His mouth was opening and closing against your neck, tongue licking at your skin as you squirmed under him, letting out the prettiest moans. More than anything, he wanted to bite you, leave a pretty bruise on your skin, mark you as his. 

But you weren’t. So he couldn’t. 

“Yoon, please.” you pleaded, so sweetly that it made his cock stir inside his pants. 

Yoongi could never deny you, he wasn’t about to start now. Pulling back from you to kneel between your legs, he was slow with the way he raised the skirt of your overalls, just enough to let him see your bottom half, the softness of your lower stomach and your cute belly button. He didn't want to seem too greedy and raise it up too much. 

Even though he was. 

You were wearing black panties, a little sheer, delicate fabric, with tiny lace frills around the elastic band and an even tinier bow at the front. It wasn’t the kind of underwear one wore if no one was about to see them. It made him wonder if you picked those for him. 

Did you wear them just in case? Did you worry about him liking it? 

The way you were staring at him expectantly let him know that you did. 

“I like these.” he told you and you smiled with pink cheeks. “Were you thinking of me when you chose to wear them?” 

“I bought them for you.” you admitted with a squirm, threatening to close your legs, but his body was on the way. “I didn’t really have any reasons to own lingerie before.” 

Does the top match? He wanted to ask, but refrained from it. All in due time. 

Yoongi touched your knees, thighs, feeling your smooth skin under his fingertips, all the way up your hips to hook his fingers on the elastic bands. “Is it okay if I take them off?” 

“Uh–” you hesitated, which made Yoongi worry. He started to retrieve his hands when you held onto his wrists to keep them there. “Yeah, it’s fine, just– What if you think I look weird?” 

“You could never look weird, doll.” he marveled. 

You huffed in a ‘how would you know’ way and chided: “I hope you know you’ll be the first to see me like this.” as if he didn’t know. As if he wasn’t fucking proud of that. “Well, you and the brazilian lady from the waxing place yesterday, but I don’t think she counts.” 

“I can live with that.” 

He could also live here. With you under him. On his couch. Sharing his space. Your laughs filling the silence of his home, your touches filling the empty spots of his heart. 

When you let go of his wrists and lifted your hips, Yoongi pulled your underwear down your legs, trying not to stare, but unable to look away as you were revealed for him. You were perfect, but he knew you would be. Soft lips, looking a little puffy as your arousal clinged to you, making you all shiny and delicious. 

You spread your legs a little wider, opening yourself to him, inviting him in. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, there was no question about it. Yoongi had never been rendered speechless like this before, hands resting on your legs as he just… Breathed. 

Hard. 

Heavy. 

You reached out for his wrist, squeezing it, thumb caressing his skin in a way that was soothing, as if he was the one that needed reassurance. It was enough to make him snap out of whatever trance he was under and lean down to lay on the couch, between your legs, and start to kiss the inside of your thigh. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

He had never heard you curse like that before, and it made him greedy to hear more of that. Yoongi trailed kisses on your skin, moving closer and closer to your pussy until he reached it. Yoongi didn’t want to overwhelm you, but he couldn’t really go slow, not when he was dying to taste you. 

His tongue slipped out of his mouth and dipped between your folds, licking a stripe all the way up. Your moan was worth it, your taste was better than he could have expected. 

“How’s that?” Yoongi checked in with you, peppering kisses all over your lips before moving his tongue up and down your soaking cunt. 

“That–shit, I– my god, Yoongi!” 

“That good, huh?” he chuckled close to your pussy so you would feel the vibrations and it made you arch your back. 

“Can you just– keep going?” 

Yoongi looked at you from between your legs, noticing the lip worried between your teeth, your half lidded gaze, the hands resting on your lower stomach as you squeezed the suede fabric of your dress. 

His hands slipped under your thighs and he pulled you down with strong arms, making you squeal and cry out as his mouth latched onto your pussy and he ate you like a man starved. Yoongi was good at it, if he said so himself, and he was about to prove it to you. 

His tongue was quick and purposeful as he explored your pussy, teasing your hole with little circles, only to drag all the way up to your clit. He was drinking from you, swallowing hard, using his lips and tongue to make you feel good. You weren’t able to stay quiet, it seemed, hips starting to rock at their own accord. 

“You taste so fucking good.” he told you, and it was true. 

“You feel really good, too.” you admitted with a long, dragged moan. 

His lips formed a pout around your clit and Yoongi held it there, sucking softly with rhythmic movements of his tongue around it. That’s when your hand grabbed onto his hair and you held on for dear life, keeping him there. Not that he would dare move as your moans and the clenching of your cunt under him were telling him you were close. 

It was more than a little exciting, to know he was the first to taste you, the first to make you unravel like this, the first person to make you cum. In a way, even if nothing serious came out of this, Yoongi would still forever be your first. He hoped you’d always remember him like this, with his face shoved between your legs. A more selfish part of him hoped no one would ever be this good to you, no one would make you moan and cry so loud that the neighbors might hear. 

Yoongi could worry about those implications later, for now he would focus on making you cum on his tongue. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so close, please don’t stop, please–” 

Your pleas and moans were desperate, making Yoongi almost start to hump his own couch just to find relief for his bulge that was already swollen and begging for attention. The sting on his scalp was painful, but he loved it, especially because it meant you were enjoying yourself. 

Yoongi’s sole focus was on your clit, drawing quick circles with the flat of his tongue, until a cry of his name made his ears buzz and his eyes roll to the back of his head as you started trembling underneath him, your orgasm washing over you. Your thighs closed around his head, keeping him there, and he continued to lick you through your climax, a little gentler this time, so that you could enjoy that feeling for as long as possible. 

Only when your hand dropped from his hair and your legs fell open, did he stop. 

You were both breathless when Yoongi pulled away to lay down next to you. He was so drunk on you and your taste on his lips that he didn’t let his overthinking get the best of him. Yoongi simply pulled you into his chest, and you willingly clung to him, laying on your side, as you tried to regulate your breathing. 

“If that’s how it always feels, I’m really fucking mad at myself for not doing this before.” you giggled, but it was muffled by his chest. 

“That’s how it always feels with me.” Yoongi pointed out, letting himself brag. “Unfortunately, most guys out there don’t know where anything is.”

“Oh.” you looked up at him with somewhat wet eyes and red bitten lips. “Well. I might just keep coming back to you, then.” 

“That’s fine with me, doll.” 

OCTOBER 11TH | 16:05

If one wanted to find Min Yoongi, chances were, he’d be in his studio. His workspace, located in a tall building in Yeongsan, was where he spent most of his days, including weekends. The studio, affectionately named Genius Lab, had everything Yoongi needed; his desk filled with the best equipment for recording and producing, a couch where he could nap whenever he was too tired to function properly, a mini fridge where he kept a few drinks and quick snacks, and dark decor and lighting that made the space entertaining and homey enough. 

On a good day, he’d be in the zone. So focused on whatever he was working on that day that the world could be falling to pieces outside of his soundproof walls, there could be a zombie outbreak, and Yoongi wouldn’t even notice it. 

But then there were days like today. 

Yoongi had been going over the same verse for what felt like the thousandth time and he simply did not like how it sounded, his metaphors weren’t good enough, the flow was weak. And the producer, lyricist and rapper wasn’t the kind to just easily move on to the next project, come back to this later with a clearer mind. No, Yoongi would obsess over something and only actually move forward once he fixed what needed fixing. 

His back was killing him from being hunched over his keyboard for the last however many minutes, his neck felt stiff, and he was stressed. Grabbing for his phone on his desk, Yoongi noticed two things. 

Firstly, it was the middle of the afternoon already, when he thought it was just after lunch, so maybe he was stuck on this one song for longer than he hoped. 

And, secondly, Yoongi missed you. 

Now, he didn’t have it that bad for you that simply looking at the time reminded him of you, no. But your face was the image that greeted him when he awoke his sleeping phone, staring back at him, right on his screen background. Again, he was that obsessed to have made you his wallpaper, you had done it yourself, just five days ago, in what he was sure was supposed to be a joke, a lesson to not leave his phone unattended next to you. 

Yoongi just didn’t have the time to change it back to the picture of his family dog just yet. 

Things between the two of you had been going steady for the past few weeks now, almost a whole month ever since you walked into this very room and asked him to help you learn things for your book. You saw each other a few times every week, either with your friends or just you and him, but something always happened. 

Either hidden kisses and stolen moments behind the boys’ backs, or you’d go to his apartment over the weekend and stay the night. Your sessions usually involved a lot of making out, some heavy groping, handjobs, fingering or he’d eat you out. You always had lots of questions for him, which he did his best to answer with examples and practicing time. 

Yoongi wondered if you were as affected by it as he was. Sometimes he asked himself if your yearning eyes, long lasting touches and sweet kisses even after you were done meant something to you as much as they meant to him. He didn’t think you were a cruel person to pretend not to notice how infatuated he was with you, but there were only so many times one could call another person baby or fall asleep holding each other, before one starts to wonder if there’s something more there. 

As Yoongi’s phone turned dark again, he wondered if you were busy. You lived fairly close to his work, everyone in the building pretty much already knew you, so he wouldn’t get in trouble if you came over. He could use a distraction, maybe you could have something to drink at the coffee shop downstairs, it’s been a while since you met there for an afternoon snack. 

To say that escalated would be an understatement. Yoongi didn’t message you with those intentions in mind, but after reading the text conversation again, he could understand how he sounded. The man was slightly awkward when it came to texting, much preferring calls or talking in person. You were always full of emojis and funny ways of communicating, which he thought was cute. 

But then again, Yoongi thought everything you did was cute. 

And he had exactly twenty minutes to get his shit together and stop acting like such a simp, as that was the time that it took for you to walk from your apartment to his studio. A little more than that if you were in your pajamas and had to change before leaving the house. 

At the knock on his door, Yoongi got up to unlock his studio and let you in, but before he could even say hello, you were throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his. Just a smack of your lips, but still enough to surprise Yoongi. 

“Hi.” you whispered with a little smile. You had never greeted him like this before, especially not in the middle of the hallway, where anyone could see. 

“Hey–” Yoongi finally snapped out of it as you slipped your shoes off and walked into the room, going straight to the couch. “I swear this isn’t a booty call.” 

He didn’t really know why he felt the need to reiterate his pure intentions, lest you think that’s the only reason he had to want you over. 

“I know, I was just messing with you.” you giggled as you folded your legs under yourself and Yoongi took a breath of relief. “I just guessed you either wanted to show me something new or a distraction from your genius creations.” 

Yoongi scoffed lightly as he walked back to his chair, dropping down onto it with a squeak. “Got nothing genius to share today, I’m afraid.” 

“New project giving you a hard time?” you asked, leaning forward and tilting your head as you watched him. 

“You could say that.” Yoongi nodded, bringing a thumb to his mouth to bite and pull at the little piece of skin that had been bothering him for the past hour. 

“Is it for the important meeting you have next week?” you asked as you pulled his hand away from his mouth and brought it to your own lips to kiss at the corner of his finger as you noticed how red it looked. 

And this shit right here, this is exactly what he meant. There’s no way you didn’t feel something for him, when you did things like these, right? Wishful thinking or not, it made Yoongi’s heart swoon and his cheeks feel hot. 

“Not at all, so I guess I have two reasons to be worried.” his laugh was void of amusement and filled with self-deprecation. 

“Oh, no.” you scrunched your nose, only now letting go of his hand. “Honestly, Yoon, you have no reason to worry at all. Not about the meeting, not about whatever project is being annoying. You’re great. You’re more than great, you’re the best producer I know.”

“Do you know many producers?” Yoongi challenged you with a cocked eyebrow, and this time his laugh was a little more real. 

“At least two.” you pointed out in a matter of factly way. “And don’t tell Hobi, but you’re my favorite one.”

“How can I be sure you don’t tell him the same thing?”

“I guess you’ll never know.” you grinned, white teeth behind a dark lipstick smile. Now that autumn was in full swing, your wardrobe and seasonal makeup were changing, it seemed. “Is that for Agust D or someone else?”

You were nodding at his computer screen behind him, which was still opened in the latest mixing program he used to add his vocals to the melody he already had.  

“That’s mine, yeah.”

“What’s the problem with it?” you got up from the couch, walking to the desk and leaning over it with your hands flat on the wood top. Yoongi turned his chair to face you, smiling at the lines on your forehead as you tried to figure out what all of the lines, splits and soundwaves meant. 

“Not sure I like it.” he told you with a long, dragged out sigh. 

“Can I hear what you have so far?” you asked as you turned to him instead of the monitor. 

And, the thing was, Yoongi never let anybody hear his songs before he was 100% happy with it. Not Hoseok. Not Pdogg. Not even Bang PD and that was his boss. But you were looking at him so expectantly, and you were always so excited to be one of the firsts to hear his music that he couldn’t say no to you. Ever. 

Yoongi nodded and your sweet smile was already enough to calm his nerves and ill intended feelings towards his music. 

Yoongi rolled his chair a little closer to you, so he could reach for his mouse and move the song back to the start so he could play it for you, but you took it as an invitation to sit on his lap. Not that he wouldn’t actually invite you if he thought it was an option. Which he didn’t. But he was glad that it was. 

The producer was also glad for the way that you so naturally fit there, sitting on his leg, one arm naturally circling his shoulders as his wrapped around your waist to make sure you were balanced. 

“What is it called?” you were asking, looking at him from so close that he could see the little freckle on your eye. 

“People.” 

Yoongi pressed the right button with the mouse and adjusted the volume of the song so you could hear everything as one and not be deafened by the bass that he was working on previously. The song sounded a little different from what he was used to putting out, like ‘Agust D’, ‘Give it to me’ or ‘The last’, which was probably the reason he was feeling so weird about it in the first place. 

It’s not that he didn’t like the song itself, but he was worried that it was not what people expected of him. 

You were nodding your head as you both listened to it playing, trying to school your features in an attempt to not let it show how you felt about it. But when it got to the chorus, you couldn’t hold back the smile that was pushed onto your lips as you heard him sing. 

Yoongi avoided looking at you after that, as his own smile was difficult to contain. 

When the song came to an end, you turned to him with the biggest grin, and Yoongi’s cheeks were puffed as she smiled at your reactions; internally rolling his eyes at himself and his inability of keeping a straight face when it came to you and his music. 

“So, what’s wrong with it?” you asked as the hand that was around his shoulders touched the back of his neck, nails scratching at his nape. 

“I–” Yoongi sighed, almost purred, relaxing into your touch, forehead resting on your cheek as he couldn’t help himself. “Don’t remember.” 

“That sounds more like it.” you giggled, wrapping the other arm around him as he did the same to your middle. “All you needed was to get out of your head a little, huh?” 

“I guess.” 

And you. He definitely needed you. To wordlessly assure him his song was good, to enjoy listening to it, making him laugh and breathe and stop overthinking. You barely did anything at all and yet it felt like so much. 

“Glad I could help.” you were smiling. Yoongi could feel it even if he couldn’t see it. 

“You always do.” 

“I can… You know?” you started softly, almost hesitantly, and Yoongi pulled back enough to look at you. Explaining, you said: “Help you.” 

“You just did.” he insisted, but Yoongi could read it in your eyes that there was something more. 

“No, I mean… This arrangement doesn’t have to be just for me.” your eyes dropped to his lips and Yoongi licked at his bottom lip on instinct, something inside him stirring into life. “I’m here if you need me. For whatever.” 

“Doll.” 

It was a warning, but Yoongi wasn’t sure of what. Was he warning you that he might say yes? That he might be falling for you? At this point it felt like it was too late to warn you about that last one. 

“Would you let me?” you asked, a little more steadily, hand touching the side of his face, thumb running across his cheek. “Let me take care of you.” 

“Okay.” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Yoongi nodded, even if you didn’t even have to ask. This was dangerous, at least for the man, as kissing you was easily becoming one of his favorite things to do. He hugged you a little tighter as you started placing tiny kisses against his lips, just because. And then your mouth pressed against his, properly this time, and it stayed there for a while longer. 

You were dictating the pace and the intensity of the kiss, and Yoongi let you. He wanted to see how far you would take this, how you intended on taking care of him, so he followed your lead, moving his lips against yours only when you did so. Your tongue slipped past your lips to lick at his and Yoongi parted his mouth and chased yours.

Only for you to pull back with a teasing little smile and playful eyes. 

“What a greedy boy.” you whispered, the hand on his nape slipping into his hair. 

“Baby, please.” Yoongi heard himself saying, avoiding your eyes. 

“Hm. I like that.” with a stronger hold of his hair, you made his neck bend backwards. 

Yoongi gasped in surprise and asked: “When I say please?” 

“When you call me baby.” 

You were smiling against his neck as you kissed just under his jaw, teeth nipping at his skin and Yoongi wanted you to claim him just as much as he wished he could claim you. 

Yoongi’s hands were around you, squeezing you, pressing his fingertips as he tried to feel more of you. Your sweet smile was the last thing he saw when his eyes fluttered closed and you kissed his lips. Really kissed, squeezing his long hair between your fingers once more, slipping your tongue past his lips to lick at his. 

Your lips moved in sync, dragging over each other’s, with so much more familiarity than the first time you kissed, but the bat-like butterflies were still there. Yoongi knew the taste of your lips, and he knew you liked it when he sucked on your bottom lip or pushed his tongue deeper into your mouth to take control back.

Your little, breathy moan was swallowed by Yoongi as his hand dropped to your ass and he squeezed. 

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you, babe.” you said with a little whine and Yoongi’s body twitched with the new pet name. 

“How are you planning on doing that?” he challenged, staring at your swollen bottom lip, taking it into his mouth before you had the chance to reply. 

With a new moan, eyes closing shut, your hand slid down Yoongi’s body, between his legs, to palm his growing bulge. Yoongi hissed and let go of your lip, spreading his legs wider and shamelessly so you’d have more space to work with. 

“Let me show you.” 

With one last press of your mouths, you left his lap and sunk down to the floor, sitting on your feet between his legs, thighs pressed together as your small hands rested atop his. Yoongi’s breath got caught up in his throat as this was a sight he longed to see for longer than he’d ever openly admit. 

Up until this point in your arrangement, you hadn’t yet done what you were so clearly hinting at. You hadn’t reached that part of your book just yet, but it was just another proof that today wasn’t about your book, but about Yoongi. As long as you wanted it too, so he checked:

“You know you don’t have to, right?” his hand landed softly on top of yours as he caressed your smooth skin. 

“I want you, Yoongi.” 

The way you said those words made Yoongi believe in much more than what you were about to do right now. It gave him hope that, maybe, one day they would be true the way he wanted them to be. 

You scooted just a little closer to his legs, cheek rubbing on the inside of his thigh as you laid your head there, staring up at him with uncertain eyes that told him you weren’t quite sure what to do. But Yoongi didn’t hurry you, more than okay with following your pace, letting you explore and experiment. 

Just as long as he could keep looking at you like this. 

A gentle hand touched your face, tracing the curve of your nose, down to the shape of your cupid's bow, pulling gently on your bottom lip to see it part. You closed your eyes as you basked in his caresses, mouth opening to lick at the pad of Yoongi’s thumb making not only his breath grow heavy, but his dick twitch in his pants. 

“My pretty girl.” Yoongi’s words left him without much thought. 

“Yeah?” you sighed, eyes fluttering as your face pulled away from his legs and your hands reached for the waistband of his pants. “Are you claiming me?” 

Yoongi felt hot all over, in his cheeks, in his chest, toes curling inside his studio slippers. You had no idea just how badly he wanted to claim you, in every sense of the word. 

He lifted his hips higher as you pulled his trousers down his legs; not sure if this was the best day to not wear anything else under his soft cotton pants. It made your job easier and it cut back on the teasing, but when his cock sprung free, already hard and ready, your eyes widened slightly with overwhelming. 

You tried not to let it show, or maybe you were just a little more eager to see him bare, letting the pants fall around his ankles as he spread his legs just a little wider. Yoongi was past the point of feeling self conscious about showing himself to you like this, letting your curious eyes roam all of him, but this was a new angle for you, and he wondered what you were thinking. 

You held his cock from the base, raising a little on your knees to reach his tip. Your hand wrapping around him was familiar, he knew your grip, the feel of your smooth fingers. But the feeling of your lips dragging up his shaft was brand new, as was the wetness of your tongue as you licked at the tip. 

Yoongi pushed the backrest of his chair a little further back to recline it, hands holding tightly onto the arm rests on each side of him. Suddenly his shirt felt too hot as it started clinging to his chest, but removing it felt like too much for right now, even for him. 

You teased the slit of his cock with the tip of your tongue, swirling it around the crown, hand moving up and down slowly, as if you had done this a million times before, as if you knew what Yoongi liked. The slide of your hand was a little dry, so you pulled away from him to spit on your palm and make it better. 

Yoongi’s breath hitched and came out as a slow moan as you wrapped your lips around his tip once you returned to what you were doing, looking up at him as if asking if it was okay. 

“You’re doing so well, baby.” he told you in a raspy voice that made your eyes flutter. “Keep going.” 

You nodded, seemingly forgetting you had a cock in your mouth, which made it slide just a little deeper into your mouth. It made Yoongi moan a little louder as he felt more of the warmth of your mouth, and you liked that, sinking down just a little further until you both felt the moment he hit the back of your throat. 

You sputtered with surprise, pulling off of him as you held back a cough with a hand over your lips. 

“Easy, baby. Don’t want to hurt you.” he assured you with a fond smile. “You’ll learn to deepthroat with time.” 

“Wanna make you feel good, Yoon.” you pouted, bringing your lips to his cock again. 

“You are.” he nodded through half lidded eyes, fingers twitching on the arm rests as he controlled the urge to hold you by the hair or back of your head. “Just put it in your mouth. Suck a little.” 

You did exactly that, wrapping pouty lips around the tip, moving your tongue around it inside your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you gave it experimental sucks. You hummed as his pre-cum dribbled out of him and onto your tongue, and Yoongi’s eyes rolled as he heard you audibly swallow. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” he cursed low and heavy. 

A little more confident, your lips dragged down his cock, pushing a little more of him inside, sliding on the flat of your tongue. Whatever you couldn’t fit inside –which was a lot–, you worked with your hand in tugs and strokes. You looked so perfect like this, spit coming out of the corners of your mouth, tears brimming your eyes, jaw probably aching to accommodate his girth. 

When you pulled out again it was in search of air, breathing as hard as he was. Your hand stroked Yoongi’s cock in that way you already knew he liked, closing a fist around the head as you twisted your wrist and pumped up and down. You were mouthing on his shaft, licking and sucking on his skin, tracing the engorged vein. 

Instead of making it up to the top again, your lips dragged down and down and Yoongi’s heart was in his throat. Your mouth was hot and wet as you took one of his heavy balls into your mouth, eyes on his face as if to ask if that was okay. 

“Shit, that’s nice–” he made sure to tell you, no longer able to control his hands on his sides. 

He held you by the back of your neck with a firm hold, squeezing  your nape to encourage you to suck a little harder, which he instantly regretted as it made his lower stomach tense. Yoongi tugged gently on your hair to pull you off his sac and it should be illegal how innocent and wide eyes you looked during such an act. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” you asked with a scratchy voice, which made you frown and Yoongi chuckle. 

“No, doll, that was too good.” he sighed a breathy gasp. 

“Oh.” you smiled, a little shy, hand never stopping the long tugs of his cock. With a giggle, you admitted: “I think I like sucking you off.” 

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s smile was still fond, despite the tension on his limbs and the sweat covering his body. “Think you can make me cum like this, hm?”

You nodded with vigor, not an ounce of doubt in your stance. Yoongi chuckled, but it would hardly be a challenge when you were getting him so close to his end already. 

A jolt of hot, white pleasure coursed through him as you mouth was on him again, fingers tightening on your hair as you covered your teeth with your lips as you sunk down and sucked harder as you pulled off. You started bobbing on his cock, pumping his shaft, fist connected to your lips to give Yoongi the feeling of being buried deep into your wet mouth. 

You started sinking lower and lower, not taking him all the way, but Yoongi felt your throat open and contract around him as you tried and tried to push him as deep as you could. Yoongi was a mindless mess, nothing else existed outside of his studio, nothing else mattered but the pure bliss you were inflicting on him. 

With droopy eyes, Yoongi watched you make a mess out of him, spit leaking from your mouth and covering your fingers and his cock. His cock was throbbing, painfully hard, twitching in time with his untamed moans that only made you keep going. 

Your free hand cradled his balls gently, squeezing as they felt heavier, drawing up as his lower stomach tensed. He wanted to hold your pretty face in place and fuck his cook deep down your throat, but it was much too soon for that. Instead, he just sat there, about to go insane with how good you were making him feel. 

Yoongi had no warning words for you, but you didn’t need them as you read the familiar signs of when he was about to cum; the pulsing of the fat vein on the underside, the twitches of his muscles, the groans and rough moans he wasn’t trying to contain anymore. 

Your lips stayed around his crown, tongue swirling and twirling around it with little sucks of your mouth as your fist twisted just under the tip. That and the harder squeeze of his balls was too much for him to hold back from. Yoongi felt his whole body flush, jolting with pure ecstasy that pushed him a little deeper, just as his orgasm hit him like a truck. 

He spilled inside your mouth with thick ribbons of white and you closed your eyes as you let him use your mouth. You were humming, he thought he heard it through his ringing ears, as you swallowed his load like a good girl. 

Some of it escaped from the corner of your mouth and you licked it clean after you pulled off of him once you milked the last drop of his release. Yoongi was breathing hard, with a stupidly proud grin on his face as you gave his softening cock little kisses. 

“Was that acceptable?” you asked with those innocent eyes again. 

“It was great, doll.” he nodded with a gummy smile, eyes closed as his hand dropped from the back of your head. “More than great. It was perfect.”

You were giggling as you stood up on wobbly legs, pulling Yoongi’s pants along. “I’ll believe you once you're not drunk on your orgasm.” 

“Ask me again in ten minutes then.” he laughed, settling his pants around his hips and reaching for you. 

“Does that mean I get to stay a little more?” you beamed, sitting on his lap, resting your red cheek against his shoulder. 

“You can stay all day if you want.” You could stay forever.

OCTOBER 19TH | 17:26

Yoongi avoided leaving his studio in the middle of his workday. Not only did he have deadlines he had to match, but it was his safe space. A place that more often than not felt like his home more than his own apartment. But he didn’t mind leaving Genius Lab if it meant he got to see you for an hour, share a cup of coffee in the place that meant so much for the two of you. 

The coffee shop across the street from the music company he worked for was the very place the two of you had met all those years ago. In an afternoon much like this one, where the autumn leaves were stuck to the wet pavement, a light rain was falling over central Seoul and the weather made you dress a little warmer. 

That day you had been searching for a change of scenery as you wrote what would soon become your first published book, and Yoongi was looking for a different background after staring at his computer screen all day. 

As he crossed the street, hands deep in his military-green jacket, hair partially hidden by a black beanie, Yoongi could already see you sitting at your preferred spot, by the big glass wall. Yoongi much rather sit deep into the shop, as the busy passers-by always posed a distraction to him whenever he tried to write lyrics outside of his usual set up. 

You, however, always said that you liked to watch people walking by, often getting lost in watching the life outside the café. You were both writers, he supposed. But while he wrote songs to sing or rap, you built worlds for people to get lost in. 

Yoongi could never do what you did. 

He was about to knock on the glass, wave at you to show he arrived and was coming in, but as a guy approached you and took your attention completely, Yoongi froze. He knew who the guy was, having been served by the man many times during his visits to the coffee shop. And he also knew that Kai had a not so secret and very obvious crush on you. 

Yoongi couldn’t blame the guy, he was in the same boat afterall, and you seemed oblivious to both of their infatuations with you. But it always rubbed Yoongi the wrong way, especially now. Even if he knew that this agreement you had going on gave him absolutely no claim over you whatsoever. 

In fact, it made Yoongi’s throat feel a little dry as he realized that he wasn’t just teaching you things you could use in your book, but you could also use in real life. With other guys. With guys like Kai. 

Not that hooking up with him –if he could even really call it that– would mean any great changes in your life. You were naturally flirty, but not obnoxiously so. And you were already confident, never afraid of speaking your mind, a social butterfly that made friends with anyone, anywhere. 

All Yoongi was doing was taking the pressure off. 

By sharing these experiences with you, all he did was make sure that your “firsts” were with someone you trusted, someone you wouldn’t regret down the line. Even if virginity was just a concept created by society to control and overpower women over the centuries and dictate their values, it was still kind of a big deal. 

But once you were done with that unnecessary pressure, you’d be free to have all of the one night stands and adventures that your heart desired. You said so yourself, you never had them before because that’s not how you envisioned your first time. 

Yoongi didn’t think that’s what you had in mind when you asked for his help, and he was positive you were focused on writing your book and that was it. But it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t realize this once you were done with the novel. Once you were done with him. 

“Hey!” the knocking on the glass, coming from the inside, made Yoongi jump. You were looking at him expectantly with that sweet smile of yours, a little wave as you called him in. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah." 

By the time Yoongi walked into the neutral colored coffee shop, Kai was already gone and you were closing the lid of your laptop, waiting for him to walk to you. 

The smell of coffee and fresh pastries attacked Yoongi’s stomach, reminding him he had skipped lunch; a fact you’d definitely scold him for if you found out. He’d order something to eat in a bit, Kai never spent too long without an excuse to go back to your table anyway, at least he could do some work while blatantly flirting with you. 

“What were you doing out there?” you asked him with an amused smile, looking cute in your mustard-yellow knitted sweater. 

“Thought I forgot my phone for a sec.” he lied, patting the device on his pocket just to make sure he hadn’t actually. 

“I highly doubt you would, that’s like an appendage to you at this point.” you joked, pushing the plate with an orange muffin towards Yoongi. “Here. Eat.”

“How–”

“How did I know you didn’t eat? Call it an educated guess.” you jutted out your chin, resting back against your chair and taking a sip of your drink. You were having a hot chocolate today, which wasn't surprising as it was your drink of choice whenever the weather started to turn cold. “I like to think I know you pretty well, Yoon.” 

“If you really knew me, you’d have coffee waiting too.” Yoongi grumbled, using it to cover the fact that the knowledge you had of him and his habits made him a little giddy. 

“Nope, not until you eat. I don’t want you developing stomach problems with the amount of caffeine you already drink.”

You shook your head, blowing on your hot chocolate before taking another sip. Yoongi listened to you, as he always did, and plucked pieces of the muffin to take into his mouth. This was his favorite baked good from this coffee shop, something he had never tried before you showed up in his life. 

Now it was his usual order, his guilty pleasure to indulge in whenever he had a craving for something sweet. It didn’t have anything to do with you, he always tried to convince himself, it was just another one of his habits. 

“Were you writing?” Yoongi asked as you seemed distracted watching a woman walk a small dog outside. The dog was wearing even smaller rain boots, which was no doubt the reason for your delighted smile. 

“Mhm, I’m making progress, thankfully.” you nodded, attention moving back to him. “Thanks to you.”

“You’re the writer, I’m not doing anything.” he shrugged noncommittally, swallowing the last piece of his muffin.  

“We both know that’s not true.” after noticing he was done eating, you looked at the counter of the shop, lifting your hand in a thumbs up that made Kai nod in the distance. “You’re helping me in an unconventional way, but you are.”

“As long as it’s really helping.” 

Not even a minute later, Kai was back at your table, greeting Yoongi with an ‘afternoon, hyung’ and placing a coffee in front of him. One Yoongi hadn’t ordered or paid for. You had a proud little smile pulling on your berry-lipstick-lips, raising an eyebrow as if challenging Yoongi to say you didn’t know him again. 

“I think I managed to fix most scenes.” you got back on the subject, leaning forward on the table with your elbows, holding the hot chocolate mug between your hands. 

“Already?” Yoongi was surprised to say the least, but he knew what it was like to be under pressure to make through deadlines. 

“Yes, but the first chapters are pretty tame, so.” you justified. “Nothing I really need to delete and start over.”

“Good.” 

Yoongi got a little lost on the way you brought your drink to your lips, watching as your lipstick left a stain on the rim of the mug. He wondered how good that color would look staining his skin instead; his lips, his neck, his chest. 

“What about you? How did that meeting go yesterday?” you asked him earnestly, reaching out to hold his hand on top of the table and Yoongi felt little shocks where your hands met. 

“Ah, it went well, yeah. Pretty well, actually.” a tight lipped smile turned into a gummy one as he said: “I’m going to be working with Jae-sang sunbaenim.”

Your scoff was pained as you frowned: “I’m sorry, am I so out of the loop that I don’t know who that is?”

“You know him as PSY.”

The squeal that escaped your lips was high pitched enough to catch the attention of the table next to yours, but you never minded that and this time Yoongi didn’t mind the looks from strangers either. 

“What?!” you hissed, a lot more contained this time. “No way!”

“I’m pretty excited about it, actually.” Yoongi let out a small sound of his own; one that sounded like a squeak as he wanted to get up and do a little dance. But he didn’t. 

“You should be! That’s huge!” your hold on his hand was a little firmer, smile a little brighter. 

Yoongi had worked with famous musicians many times before. The main part of his job was writing and producing for other artists, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his own mixtapes, and his own collaborations with stars that be admired; like IU –much for Jungkook’s delight and Jimin’s panic–, Suran, MAX and Lee Sora. But none of those had the potential of really making it internationally as this collab with PSY had. 

“He wants me to feature on it, too.” he told you, and your jaw dropped. 

“Yoongi! That’s amazing!” your other hand reached for his and you held it between yours. “You deserve it so much. I’m so proud of you, I hope you know that.”

“Thanks, doll.”

“We should do something to celebrate.” you stated before he had the chance to deflect. 

With a shrug, and the desire to hold onto your hands for the next three hours, he said: “We’re having coffee at our spot, that’s good enough.”

“Not for a collab with PSY it’s not.” you sounded almost offended. “I’d say we should go to Serendipity, but you hate clubs.” 

“Please don’t make me go there again.” his laugh was one of suffering and despair, which made you giggle. 

“Oh! I know!” you chirped, letting go of his hands in order to clap excitedly, just once. “I’m going to cook for you!”

“I thought you wanted to do something nice–”

“Hajimaaaa!” you complained with another laugh, one so contagious Yoongi found himself mimicking. “Maybe I’ll order something from Jin’s restaurant then, and put it in pans and dishes, so you think I cooked.”

“Sounds good, doll.” Yoongi agreed, which was the easiest thing to do. 

“Perfect! It’s a date then.”

OCTOBER 21ST | 18:03

By the time Yoongi made it to his car, he had already opened and buttoned up his shirt all of five times. He did trust Jimin when it came to fashion choices, but not when it came to mischief. And that group chat screamed ‘dongsaengs up to no good’. But the two boys did make Yoongi feel good about his choice of clothing, how he did his hair and the little bit of makeup he added to his lids just to make them pop. 

He could only hope you didn’t think he was trying too hard. 

Even though he was. 

Even if this wasn’t a date. 

Yoongi’s routine each time he sat in his car was always the same: Sit down, make sure the mirrors were all in the right position, start the car, connect his phone to the bluetooth sound system, pick a playlist he was in the mood for, seatbelt, drive. But this afternoon as he drove out of the parking lot of his not-so-modest-building in Hannam, the soundtrack for Yoongi’s drive was the beep of a connecting call. 

“Hyung!” Namjoon’s voice was the one fill his car as the call was connected. “You know you’re the only person who even makes calls these days, right? A text would have been fine.” 

“I’m driving, can’t text.” Yoongi provided as he leaned a little further front to see that his road was free and he could go. 

“Oh. Ohhh, are you going to see our favorite writer for your celebratory date?” Namjoon’s all knowing tone made a tiny smudge of heat taint his cheeks, but at least he wasn’t there to see it and tease him about it. 

More to himself than to his best friend, Yoongi felt the need to clarify: “Not a date, but yeah, I’m on my way.”

“And you called me to get tips on her latest chapters?” on the other line of the call, Yoongi could hear Namjoon’s voice turning a little clearer, as if he’d closed the door of his office. “I just read the edited ones and damn, hyung! Who knew you had that dirty mouth–”

“That’s not– She doesn’t write what we do word by word.” Yoongi panicked for a second, thinking about not only Namjoon, but the rest of the world reading what the two of you had been doing. With a whisper, he hissed: “Right?”

“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you.” Namjoon laughed and Yoongi shook his head, fingers relaxing on the steering wheel. “But she’s been doing well, I don’t have any new pointers for the chapters. She’s a lot happier too, it seems, and I don’t think the book is the only reason why.”

“You know, that right there is the reason I’m calling you.” Yoongi scoffed for no one to see as he drove out of his neighborhood and into the busy roads of Seoul. So much for avoiding rush hour when the capital was hustling 24/7. 

“What did I do this time?” Namjoon sighed on the other side. 

“Not this time, still the same thing.” he said. “Why did you put this crazy idea into her head?”

“Hyung. It's been weeks.” his best friend sounded tired, as if they went over this time and time again. And they had. 

“Over a month and I already regret this–”

“Do you regret accepting it? Or do you wish she never asked you?” Namjoon had a way of using hard phrases and poetic analogies sometimes, the perks of being an editor and a published poet, no doubt. 

“What's the difference?”

“Well, in one scenario you realize you work better as friends, and in the other it means you got it bad.”

“I got it so fucking bad is not even funny.”

Admitting that to his best friend was easier over the phone. Even if Yoongi knew Namjoon and all of their other friends also knew about it. It was a miracle that you didn’t, at this point. Unless you did, but had been ignoring it in order to not make things awkward. 

If that was the case, Yoongi wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or worried.

“Ahh, I see. So your feelings are growing impossibly fast and you're starting to feel bad because you don't think this means the same for her as it means for you?” Namjoon summed it up as Yoongi stopped his car at a red light. 

The trees were in full autumn colors, all shades of red, yellow and orange. If Yoongi rolled his windows down, he was sure he could smell the pumpkin spice and cinnamon in the air, which always brought him a nice, warm feeling inside.  

“Was this part of a master plan to get back at me for senior year?” Yoongi asked after a lightbulb moment.

“What?”

“You know, Jiheun?”

Jiheun was a girl Namjoon had a massive crush on, back when they were both in High School. And Yoongi might have read the signs wrong and told his best friend that the girl liked him back. Only for poor, string bean, bowl cut, awkward Namjoon to ask her out and get rejected in the middle of the school cafeteria. 

“Wha- hyung! Of course not, it's been years I’m not that petty.”

“Okay, okay.” not that Yoongi thought Namjoon would do something like this as they were both adults now, but his anxiety-filled-brain still asked stupid stuff sometimes. 

“Besides, I have a simple solution to your problem.” Namjoon stated.

“Do tell, because I'm almost at her place.” not completely true, he still had one more stop on the way to your apartment. 

“Have you thought about confessing?”

Yoongi’s answer was the love child between a wheeze and a snicker. 

“If you're not happy about this agreement, but you still wanna help her, and be with her for real,” Namjoon continued, seeing as Yoongi was too gobsmacked to reply. “Then tell her how you're feeling.”

“What part of that solution is simple?” Yoongi asked with a glare directed to the panel of his car, hoping Namjoon could feel its heat. 

“It’s simple because it’s telling the truth.”

“The truth that could ruin everything. Her book, our friendship–” Yoongi argued, being interrupted by his best friend:

“Are you so afraid of rejection that you would rather keep hurting yourself? You know this arrangement won't last forever.”

“I know.”

“And maybe she feels the same way.”

Yoongi’s fingers tightened against the steering wheel just a little harder as he said: “That’s a big fucking maybe.”

“Didn’t you say she’s been calling you babe and shit? And you like… cuddle now?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Those are good signs, hyung!”

He knew that, it’s been plaguing his mind for the past couple of weeks. But to hear someone else say it, someone as rational as he was, made him feel like maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part. 

As if the universe was on his side for once in his life, Yoongi found a parking spot right in front of Maybell Bakery. You had promised to cook for Yoongi tonight, but he said he’d bring dessert. And you really liked the double layered, pumpkin pie that was only sold during the month of october and was extremely overpriced, so he placed an order and paid a little extra for it to be done by the time he was able to pick it up. 

“Alright, I’m here. Gotta go.” 

“Okay. Call me if something happens, I’m invested in this.” Namjoon said and Yoongi could picture his little grin that would most likely poke a dimple in his cheeks. 

“You better be, you’re the one who threw me into this mess.” Yoongi took his seatbelt off, but didn’t move, waiting for his friend to hang up. 

“You fail to remember that she’s the one who asked you, I didn’t tell her to go after you.” Namjoon pointed out in that know-it-all tone that fit him so well. “If I’m being honest, I thought she’d go for Hoseok hyung and not you.”

“What?!” Yoongi frowned at that new piece of information, hand freezing on the way to his key to turn off the car. 

“He’s more… Dom, you know? That seems to be more like her type.”

“Great–”

Yoongi did take control with you, and he had his moments in bed before, where he had girls and guys begging for him to let them cum, but he wouldn’t define himself as a Dom. Not the way Hoseok was, Namjoon was right about that. 

“But she still went after you, hyung! That counts for a lot.” Namjoon tried to backtrack but the damage was done. 

“I know, okay.” Yoongi took a deep, calming breath that didn’t do much to quell his nerves; of seeing you, of considering the ideas Namjoon was planting in his mind. “Nice going on telling the kids about this, by the way. Jiminie and Jungkook were teasing me about this date.”

“First of all, stop stalling and get out of your car already.” Namjoon laughed on the other side and Yoongi nodded to himself. “And second of all, I didn’t tell anybody.”

“Then how did they know–”

“Well, hyung. Have you ever thought that maybe she told them? And she’s thinking of this as a date?”

Yoongi had not, in fact, thought about that possibility. Not only were you a lot closer to the three younglings –who were closer to you in age– than Namjoon, you usually told each other everything, seeing as Jimin had been your best friend since way before he even met you. 

So to say it gave Yoongi all kinds of butterflies, the simple chance of you telling your best friend and his boyfriend that you were having a date tonight, officially, would be an understatement. 

“Go get your girl.” 

Namjoon’s encouragement was the last thing he heard before leaving his car to pick up your pie in the bakery. 

On the drive to your place, Yoongi’s nose was being attacked by the fresh baked goods resting on the passenger’s seat of his car, as his mind was plagued with the thoughts of you and him. 

You, who had walked into his life by mere chance, and stayed in it from your own insistence, as Yoongi hardly made new friends. You, who had the most expressive eyes Yoongi had ever seen. You, who owned his heart in a tight grip and you didn’t even know. 

You, who were already waiting for him at the front door of your apartment as the elevator dropped him off on your floor. 

“You don’t have to call me to buzz you in everytime, Yoon, you know the code to the gate.” was the first thing out of your pretty mouth as you walked him into your apartment. 

“So, what, am I supposed to just let myself in?” Yoongi’s smile was easy as he slipped out of his shoes. “Why don’t you give me the key to your apartment while you’re at it?” 

You giggled as you said: “Because then you might come in and steal all of my tangerines.”

Yoongi was rolling his eyes at your words, pink cheeks as you called him out on his small addiction to the fruit. You reached for him after you locked the door of your apartment, raising on your toes to kiss his lips in that way that made Yoongi feel like you were something more. 

“You look so handsome tonight.” you told him so, a hand smoothing the black silk shirt he was wearing.

“Thanks. You’re always looking pretty.” Yoongi told you in an unbribed moment of boldness, making you smile sweetly, hand still on his chest. 

You were wearing a black sundress with a tiny red cherries pattern that was too light for the weather outside, but perfect for the toasty ambiance you kept your apartment in. 

“Thank you.” you beamed, walking deeper into your apartment and leading him inside. “What’s that you got there?”

“Can’t you take a guess?”

Yoongi saw you eyeing the cardboard box with the pretty fall themed design when he walked in, and there was no way you couldn’t smell the festive pie. But you were still playing coy, as you usually did whenever anyone gave you gifts or did something nice for you; never one who liked to assume. 

You and him were pretty alike in that sense. 

“I know what I want it to be, but that would be impossible, because I’ve been calling Maybell and they keep telling me they are booked for the double layer pumpkin pie until next year.” you told him with a pretty pout. Yoongi had just felt your lips, but he wanted more. 

Focusing on the matter at hand, he placed the box on top of your small kitchen counter and pushed it closer to you as he said: “Why don’t you open it, then?”

You did so, pulling apart the dark orange bow to open the box, letting out a high pitched squeal as you saw the pie. Yoongi’s mouth watered at the sight, he could only imagine your excitement. 

“Yoongi!” you gushed with a small jump. “How the hell did you do this?!”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” he said, not really calculating his words and offering you a tight lipped smile as he realized how he sounded. 

“Cheesy.” you giggled, but reached out to squeeze his arm. “Thank you.”

“What smells so good?” Yoongi deflected. 

“That would be the bulgogi!” you chirped, pointing to the pan in the oven. “We can eat in a bit, and I hope it tastes as good as it smells.” 

“Well, you’re making it, so I’m sure it probably won’t–”

“Than–hey!” you laughed at his joke, huffing as you pretended to be mad, which made Yoongi laugh along. 

You shook your head and walked to the fridge, opening it to grab a wine bottle that Yoongi could recognize the label of. It was the brand and kind that he used to have at home, alongside his many bottles of whiskey. 

“Should we open this? It’s supposed to go well with the food, according to Naver.” you offered, and your eyes were pleading. 

“I’m driving, doll. If you had told me you wanted to drink, I would have taken a lift.” it hurt him to say that, and Yoongi didn’t like the way it made you bite your lip, uncertain. 

“You can spend the night.” you told him, avoiding his eyes as you placed the bottle on the counter. Not moving to open it, but not putting it away either. “Or you can leave your car here and I’ll drive it back to you tomorrow.” 

You didn’t like driving in Seoul, Yoongi knew that. You did have a license, and you drove whenever you absolutely had to, but it wasn’t something you’d offer lightly. Not only wouldn’t he put you through that, but the option of sleeping over at your place tonight was an inviting one. 

You had spent the night at his place before, shared a bed, so it wasn’t the end of the world and wouldn’t make Yoongi spiral. But this was the first time that you’d share your bed. And somehow that felt like a new step you were taking in whatever this was. 

Yoongi moved around you to take the bottle opener resting on the counter behind you and you smiled at his acceptance grabbing the two wine glasses you had already left out. 

Once the drink was poured into the glasses, you made the move to sit on the small couch of your modest apartment and Yoongi followed you closely. 

Your apartment was a small one bedroom unit, with a tiny kitchen and small living room. Enough for a single woman living alone in Seoul. It was filled with creams, whites and a few pops of color here and there. Yoongi could already notice the pumpkin shaped candle holder on top of your center table, and the cookie jar that looked like a ghost on your kitchen counter. 

“I see you’re getting ready for halloween.” Yoongi pointed out.

“Oh, those have been out since October first.” you smiled, following his line of vision. You pulled a maple leaf printed cushion and rested it over your legs to sit comfortably.  “You have to see my room, it’s really cute.”

Yoongi chuckled, because he could imagine the sheets that must be in autumn colors, maybe some bunting and pumpkin shaped fairy lights. 

“I’m thinking I want to do Halloween differently this year.” you started again, softly swirling the wine in your glass.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Jiminie wants to go to Serendipity for costume night.” you were nodding as you told Yoongi of the plans. 

“Of course he does.” he mused. “What are you thinking about dressing as? Sexy Anne Rice again?”

“Oh my god, that wasn’t supposed to be sexy!” you giggled with a cute blush on your cheeks, hiding your eyes behind a hand. 

“The fang marks on your neck made it sexy.” Yoongi hadn’t seen you dressed in the costume that was supposed to represent your favorite writer, that would mean he actually went to the halloween party last year, but he got many selcas and pictures of the night. 

“Well, it was an homage to her Interview With a Vampire world.” you explained and he smiled, because that was just so you. 

“What are you thinking of changing this year?” he asked and you moved a little on your seat. 

“I’m thinking about a couple's costume.” you said, not looking at him, and Yoongi’s blood ran cold. “Maybe I’ll dress up as Agatha Christie. Now I just need to find my Poirot.”

“That’s, uhm–” Yoongi nodded, gaining time to drink a few long sips of his wine. 

How was he supposed to answer that? You were thinking of going to a club with someone else? Wearing a couple’s costume? You knew Yoongi didn’t go to clubs or parties, so you obviously didn’t mean you thought you and him should go together. It was easy to wonder if you were talking to someone on the side. 

On the side of what? Yoongi asked himself bitterly. It’s not like you two were dating in the first place. It was easy for him to forget about it, but you clearly didn’t. 

“Are you thinking of doing anything?” you pushed as the silence grew too thick. 

“Nah. My building might have trick or treaters again, so I’ll just give out candy.” he shrugged, bringing the glass to his lips. 

“I can help you with that!” 

“I’m sure you’ll find your Poirot by then and will be too busy for your friends.” 

That was a jab at himself, a way for him to get it through his head that that’s what the two of you were. You were just offering him help to be nice, because you were really nice. So nice you’d have anyone wishing to go to a club with you as your date. 

Yoongi included. If you asked him. 

“Yeah, we’ll see.” you sounded a little disappointed as you sipped quietly on your wine, but that could have been his own projecting. “So how’s the collab with PSY coming along?”

As you both sipped on your wine, Yoongi told you all of what he knew so far about That That. He’d have a meeting with the artist again this following week, to talk about their expectations and schedules, but he was staying positive. 

You were so excited for him, hanging off to his every word, asking questions and being so supportive of him and everything he did that his hunched shoulders turned a little straighter and his breathing got a little easier. 

There was no need to be worried right now, Yoongi decided, the more wine he drank, the further away the lump in his throat got. No matter what happened tomorrow, he still had tonight. 

“I really hope he makes you dance.” you were saying as you brought the dinner to the small table, making Yoongi scoff. 

“There’s no fucking way I’m dancing.” he told you with a squint, following you with the last of the banchans. 

“Oh, come on, you’d be so good at it!” you told him without an ounce of doubt, giggling as you turned to face him. “I’m sure you can move those hips!” 

Yoongi had a bowl of kimchi in one hand and another of fresh cabbage slaw in the other, so he had no way of protecting himself when you held him by the hips, making him turn this way and that as if you were proving he could dance. 

“Hajimaaaa.” he warned you with closed eyes and a laugh on his lips. 

“Admit it, you’d be great at shaking that ass!” you continued to sway him, both of your laughs mixing together as he was just trying to put the food down. 

“I will do no such thing.” 

With each step forward Yoongi took, you took one backwards, until you both reached the table and he could place the banchans down. His hands were now free, so he could take yours away from his hips and pin them to his chest. 

“Hajima.” he repeated, a little lower this time, as he could smell the wine on your breath from close to each other you were. 

“Or what?” you challenged with a pretty, innocent smile. 

“Or I’ll have to stop you myself.” 

“I think Min Yoongi is the greatest dancer this country has ever–”

Yoongi felt your smile against his as his lips pressed against yours, softly, but determined. He let go of your hands in order to hold both sides of your face as his lips moved against yours, tongue licking between your lips for you to part them for him. You were holding onto his shirt, little gasps leaving you as his tongue swiped at yours. 

Yeah. At least he had tonight. 

OCTOBER 21ST | 21:17

As it turns out, Yoongi did not have tonight. 

Towards the end of the dinner –which was delicious, by the way–, you started to grow a little restless. Too stuck in your mind at times, not really answering Yoongi’s questions as if there was something worrying you. And Yoongi knew not to push you, you’d tell him whatever was bothering you whenever you felt comfortable to do so. 

He knew something was really wrong when he got up to take the empty dishes to the sink and you didn’t try to stop him, nor did you move to help. You stayed in your spot, looking at the top of the table as if you were reading something really important there. 

And then it came, the three words that made Yoongi’s stomach drop: “Can we talk?” 

Yoongi left the dishes where they were, too nervous and hands too trembling for him to attempt to wash any of them. When he turned to you, you weren’t sitting at the table anymore, but standing in the living room, looking over at the city lights outside your window, arms around yourself as if you were trying to self soothe. 

“What’s up?” he asked you, voice wavering. 

“I’m not sure how I feel about this agreement anymore.” you were blunt and straight to the point. The dinner and the wine were trying to make a comeback, but Yoongi held himself together. 

“Oh.”

“I mean, I did learn a lot–I am learning a lot. Each time we… do something, it’s fun and nice and I really enjoy myself.” this is when you turned around to face him and it wasn’t fucking fair that you looked this good while you were about to break his heart. 

“Okay.” 

“Maybe you were expecting to have sex tonight–”

Hearing this made Yoongi take a couple steps to close the distance between you, but stopped short of touching you. “No, doll. Stop, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, you know I’d never push you.”

“I know.” you nodded softly, avoiding his eyes, twirling the ring on your finger. 

“We can just drop everything, I told you from the start.” he assured you once more, having to stick his hands into his pocket to stop himself from reaching out to touch you. He’d never get to touch you again. Pretending this wasn’t hurting him, that his hands wouldn’t shake if they were out of his pockets, that the lump in his throat wasn’t back. “There’s no pressure. You’re free to walk away whenever you want.”

“Yeah, okay.” you sniffed, as if you were about to cry. Yoongi’s heart broke for a whole different reason. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” he shrugged, even if he was positive nothing would ever be right again. 

“It’s not. I really didn’t mean for this to happen… God, I’m so silly.” you chuckled, but it was a heavy one. You took a step back, both hands on your waist as you shook your head. 

“You’re not silly, you wanted to make your book better.” Yoongi supplied. 

He wondered if he should just count his losses and leave, walk away with the little bit of dignity he still had left, make this easier for you as well. And he couldn’t even drive home, not with how much wine he had. He could take a cab and ask one of his friends to come back for his car tomorrow; what annoyed him was that he couldn’t even have Namjoon do that as payback when the man didn’t drive. 

“Yeah, and what do I do?” you asked, obviously a rhetorical question as you laughed at yourself.  “I ask the guy I have a crush on to help me.”

“What–”

“As if that crush wouldn’t turn into feelings!” you continued, waving a hand in the air. 

Yoongi’s mind was a mess as he tried to make sense of your words. His voice came out as a high pitched sound as he asked: “Feelings?”

“I know I made this awkward. I’ll understand if you need me to step away for a little while.” you said, still not looking at him, still talking to yourself as you started walking from one side to the other, hands and arms making random gestures. “You know what, if anything, Namjoon made this awkward.”

“Doll.”

“He knows how I’ve always felt about you, and you know what he told me just this afternoon?” you looked at him then, but it was fleeting. “That I should just confess! As if that was so damn easy.”

Yoongi’s lips split into a grin and suddenly the weight was lifted. His stomach stopped turning, but the butterflies were still there. His cold sweat wasn’t of anxiety anymore and the trembling in his body was from excitement, not dread. 

“Doll.”

“Well, this is the last time I’m ever listening to that giant fool–”

“Baby.”

At the term of endearment your mouth closed and you looked at Yoongi with wide, sparkling eyes. He walked to you then, hesitance flying out the window. When his hand touched your face, you didn’t flinch or pull away from him, leaning into his touch. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked softly, eyes closing, bottom lip pushing out. “Shouldn’t you be running?” 

“I should be doing exactly this.” Yoongi pressed his lips to your forehead and you let out a shuddering breath. 

“Yoon, it will only hurt more when you leave.” you pouted, and the producer guessed it was a good time to let you in on a little detail you seemed to still be missing. 

“What if I don’t leave, hm?” he lifted your face when you avoided looking at him. “What if I have feelings for you too?” 

“Well, that would be great, but–” you were about to start spinning again when you gasped. “Do you?” 

“Thought it was obvious.” he chuckled, gums out and everything. 

“Nuh-uh!” 

Your jaw dropped and you blinked slowly, kinda like a cat, letting his words sink in, the small brushing of his thumb on your cheek that dragged down to touch your bottom lip. Then your lips kissed the pad of Yoongi’s digit, he looked at your eyes to find nothing but joy. 

“Will you take me out on a date, then?” you asked, hands circling his torso in a hug. 

“I think we just had our first date.” Yoongi looked over his shoulder to the table where your dinner had been perfectly pleasant until the moment you got in your head. 

But Yoongi understood now why you were so restless, why you sunk in on yourself and barely touched your food towards the end of the dinner. He could imagine exactly all that had been plaguing your mind, as the same thing was running through his. 

“But I’ll take you on a second one.” he said, kissing your cheek. “And on a third one. And fourth one.” 

You were giggling and squeezing him as he kissed all over your face, just to hear more of your sweet noises. “Does that mean you’re my boyfriend now?” 

“If you want me to be.” Yoongi nodded, pulling his face away from yours so he could look into your eyes as he asked: “Do you want to be mine?” 

“I’ve been yours, babe.” your arms unwrapped from his middle so you could hug his shoulders. “You have no idea for how long.” 

“Let’s keep it that way, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You were smiling as Yoongi held your face a little firmer, pressed his lips to yours a little harder. It was just supposed to be a celebratory kiss, really, one that marked the end of your arrangement and the start of your relationship. Until he swiped his tongue between your lips and you parted them with a moan. Your hands slipped into his hair, his dropped to your waist. 

The wet sounds of your mouths sliding together were turning Yoongi’s happiness and elation into pure desire, greed and desperation. You were his now. Properly. Truly. You were with him because you had feelings for each other, not because of a silly book.

With the way you were pressing yourself to him, as if trying to melt and mold the two of you into one being, he could guess you were feeling the same way. When you pulled your lips from his, they were red and slightly swollen, and your eyes were like a kaleidoscope, pulling him in, making him dizzy with all of your colors and shapes. 

“You wanna see my room?” you invited, making Yoongi’s stomach do a flip. 

“I do wanna see your Halloween decor.” he nodded with a grin. 

You smiled and took his hand with yours, palms and fingers slotting together as if they belonged just like that. You dragged him out of the living room, through the short hallway and into your bedroom, turning the lights on to let him see the space. 

Your bedroom followed the same color patterns as the rest of the apartment, lots of whites and creams, but the apricot orange bed sheets complimented the halloween decorations sprinkled here and there. Your double bed was pressed against the furthest wall, right under a high window. Your dresser was cluttered with makeup, an opened jewelry box, a few papers and your laptop. On the headboard of your bed, a string light with little white ghosts was hanging, which you turned on as soon as you walked into the room. 

Next to your bed, on top of the white nightstand, was a book, a case of wireless earbuds Yoongi had gifted you on your last birthday, and a printed picture of you and him. It had been taken months ago, by Hoseok and one of his many disposable cameras, but Yoongi didn’t know you had kept it. 

“Ah.” you said with a small laugh, wrapping your arms around Yoongi’s middle as you noticed what he was looking at. “I was hoping you might see that and realize I’m in love with you.” 

“You could have my face as a blanket and I still wouldn’t have realized that.” Yoongi chuckled, pulling you to his front and bending down to pick you up. “It’s nice to hear it, though.” 

You squealed as he lifted you with strong arms, biceps bulging in his tight shirt as you wrapped your legs around his waist and held on. Your gasp made him feel really good about himself. 

“Bed?” you offered with a smile and an eyebrow wiggle. 

“Bed.” 

Yoongi was nodding as he took the two steps to reach your bed, holding you with a tight grip until he sat down against your headboard. The little plastic ghosts clinked and poked him in the back of the neck as he settled with you on his lap, making you giggle. 

“Come here.” Yoongi urged and you complied. 

Your small hands were on his chest, sliding on the silk fabric until your fingers came in contact with the triangle of skin created by the three buttons he left open –per Jimin’s advice–. Each of your legs were on one side of Yoongi’s hips, straddling him as you sat right on top of him. 

“Did I tell you that you look pretty tonight?” you asked him as you dragged your nails on his skin, nose touching his, lips brushing together. 

“Did I tell you that you look pretty every night?” he countered, eyes closing as he took your bottom lip between his teeth. 

You mewled softly, chasing Yoongi’s mouth once he let go of your lip. Your kiss was heated, deep, full of tongue and little moans that grew louder and louder as you started to rock your hips back and forward, dragging your core on Yoongi’s erection, making it feel harder and harder with every slow sway of your hips. 

Yoongi’s hands were moving up and down your legs, slipping under your dress and growing bolder as you pushed into his hands when they settled on your ass. He squeezed the flesh, fingertips dragging on the tiny material that felt like lace under his touch. 

His hips flexed up at the same time that you pressed down and the pressure on your core must have felt good, for you to throw your head back with closed eyes and parted lips. Yoongi took that as an invitation to kiss down your jaw, covering your throat in kisses, choosing a spot at the side of your neck to latch on. 

“Yes, babe–” you breathed out, a hand slipping into his hair as if you were trying to keep him there. 

“Mine.” he growled against your skin. 

Yoongi licked your neck, as if preparing the skin to take his mark, sucking on the soft patch once he deemed it warm enough. Yoongi suckled hard enough to hurt, but you were lighting up with the sting, skin blooming with a red and purple bruise. 

“All yours.” you nodded breathlessly, moaning as your hips never settled. 

With one arm around your waist, Yoongi trailed kisses on the length of your shoulder, knocking the tiny strap of your sundress down. Your movement made Yoongi pull back a little to watch you push the other strap of your dress down, looking at him with an inviting bite on your bottom lip. 

He was looking at you, gaze boring into yours, as his hands moved from under your dress to climb up your ribs to touch your breasts. They felt so full and soft and perfect as he squeezed both on each palm, your lips falling open with a sigh as he pulled the top of your dress down. 

Your breasts spilled free and Yoongi groaned, looking at your pretty, perky and pebbled nipples, shade a little darker than your own skin. 

“My eyes are up here.” you giggled, but you weren’t able to mask your nervousness. 

“Mhm, and I love them too.” Yoongi nodded, but his gaze stayed where they were, watching the mounds of your breasts move as he cupped them both, rolling your nipples with his thumbs. You gasped and whined, which prompted the question: “Sensitive?” 

“Guess so.” you nodded shyly, nails scraping at his scalp. “My own hands never really did much, but guess your fingers–ooh.” 

You gasped, closing your eyes as Yoongi watched your face contort in pleasure as he pinched your nipples between his pointer fingers and thumbs. 

“My fingers?” he probed, just to hear more of your shaky tone. 

“I love them.” you mewled. “You have really sexy hands, did you know?” 

Yoongi chuckled, not thinking much as he said: “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

Your grasp on his hair tightened as you stared at him right in the eye, lines between your eyebrows as you frowned. 

“Only I can have them now.” you stated with a hint of possessiveness that made Yoongi shiver. “Just so you know.” 

“I know, doll.” he told you so with a little chuckle that didn’t last long as his mouth met the heated skin of your collar bones. 

“Yeah?” you whined, squeezing his hair between your fingers. 

“Mhm, I’m all yours.” he told you in hopes of quelling your worries, even though your jealousy was hot. “And you’re all mine.” 

You whispered a tiny ‘okay’ that turned into a moan as Yoongi kissed his way to your breasts, choosing a nipple to latch on. His lips wrapped around the bud and he sucked it into his mouth, dragging his tongue around it to hear you make more of those delicious sounds, just for him. 

Pushing your chest harder against his face, you resumed the rocking of your hips, making him groan around your nipple, pulling off of it with a pop. As Yoongi switched to repeat the same treatment with your other nipple, you started to unbutton his shirt, button by button, getting a little worked up when your trembling fingers took longer to pop one open. 

“Can you lay down for me?” Yoongi asked as his kisses changed direction and his hands squeezed your hips. 

“Are we really doing this?” you asked with a nibble on your bottom lip, which made Yoongi pause. 

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” 

“No, no, I do, just… Don’t want you to think I asked to be your girlfriend so I could get in your pants.” you reasoned, making him laugh. 

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?” he mused. “You’ve been in my pants, baby.”

“Ahh, yeah, okay.” you giggled sweetly, moving off of his lap to keel on your bed. 

“Cute.” 

Yoongi was smiling like a fool in love as he moved to give you space to lay on your pillows, in the middle of your bed. While he pushed his shirt off his arms and let it fall on the floor, you pulled your sundress off the rest of the way. Yoongi’s breath got caught as he looked at you like that, for the first time, only a flimsy pair of panties on, which you removed even before you laid down for him. 

He wanted to tell you that you were absolutely perfect, gorgeous all over, but the way you spread your legs for him, as your hands rested on your lower stomach, lip worried between your teeth, Yoongi didn’t know any words anymore. 

Except maybe ‘want’ and ‘now’. 

Yoongi was lowering himself between your legs, laying on his stomach as he kissed your inner thighs, sucking on the signs of your arousal that he found there. You smelled so good and looked so wet that he couldn’t resist bringing two of his fingers to your pussy, spreading your lips so he could see all of you. 

You mewled as your back arched off the mattress, spreading your legs even wider for him. 

“You’re so tight, baby.” he teased as the tips of his fingers circled your little entrance, watching as it clenched at his words. “How am I ever going to fit here, hm?” 

“Been wondering the same thing, if I’m honest–” you chuckled breathlessly, hands falling to grab onto the comforter under you. 

“I’ll be gentle.” Yoongi told you as his middle finger pushed deeper inside you, just the tip, pulling it out to bring it to your clit. “Stretch you nice and slow at first.” 

“Yoongi–” you moaned as he flicked your bundle of nerves. 

“Gonna have to fuck you over and over again, so your body understands you’re mine.” he told you so, fingers touching you all over as his lips met your lower ones. “That okay with you, doll?” 

“Mhmm, so okay.” 

Yoongi’s fingers dragged down to your clenching hole again and stayed there, teasing your entrance, collecting more of your wetness, pushing in slowly but retrieving whenever your moaning became pained. Yoongi didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted you to feel nothing but pleasure and love. 

The flat of his tongue met your clit, lapping slowly and repetitively, until your moans became those of enjoyment. Once he was sure you were relaxed and content, Yoongi pushed the fingers into you again. He could feel your walls stretch to accommodate the digits, cock complaining inside his pants for being so constricted as all he wanted was to be buried inside you. 

The more he sucked on your clit, the more you moaned and moved your hips in little circles, pushing his fingers deeper and deeper inside you. You were growing wetter and wetter and Yoongi was swallowing every sweet drop you gave him. 

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, between rubs of your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

“Doesn’t hurt as much anymore… Better than I thought.” you told him with a little whine. “Want more, babe.” 

“Yeah? Think you’re ready for me?”

“Born ready!” you chirped with a little drunk giggle and the nodding of your head. “Please fuck me.” 

Yoongi hummed and left one last kiss against your clit, which made you squirm and squeal. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, scissoring them apart for good measure, to stretch you around them so you could take his cock. 

You moved up a little on your pillows, from where you had slipped down with all your squirming, attentive eyes watching all of him, making him grow a little shy. Yoongi could read the desire in your eyes, you wanted him as bad as he wanted you and it was making him fluster a little, neck and chest feeling a little hot. 

As he pulled his wallet from his back pocket you asked: “Are you buying anything right now?” 

“I’m getting a condom, doll.” Yoongi laughed at your wide eyes as you understood. 

“We don’t need one.” you told him while sitting up to touch his stomach and chest, kissing his lower belly as your hands got to work on his belt and button. “I’ve been on the pill since we started this.” 

“A–are you sure?” his stammering was what made you giggle no doubt. 

With your little nod, Yoongi let his wallet drop to the floor where his shirt lay discarded and helped you push his pants and underwear off in one go, baring himself to you just as you were to him. You smiled sweetly and playfully licked at his tip, sending a rocking shiver all over his body. 

“Jesus–” he hissed, taking a finger under your chin to make you look at him. “Lay down.” 

“Be gentle.” you begged with a pout, which Yoongi kissed. “Go slow.” another kiss, one that became a dragged moan as your hand wrapped around his shaft. “And make me cum all over your big cock–”

“Okay, lay down, now.” 

Your giggle was high pitched as Yoongi pinched your sides and had you squirming away from him to lay down on the bed. The man pushed your knees apart so he could lay on top of you, between your legs, heavy, painfully hard cock resting between your warm and slippery folds, making you both moan. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, nails and fingertips dragging up and down his back as he pulled you into a kiss. Yoongi kissed you slowly, deeply, full of passion and want and need. Your lips moved together as your tongues clashed with one another, breaths fanning each other’s faces. 

When you started to move your hips back and forth, rubbing yourself on his cock, Yoongi moaned into your lips and you took his bottom one into your mouth to suck on and drag between your teeth. 

His hand ventured between your bodies to stroke his cock a few times, teasing himself, pumping him to make him drip beads of pre-cum on your lips. He brushed the tip between your folds to open you up to him, leading his cock to your entrance. You started breathing harshly, so Yoongi kissed your cheek and jaw to relax you, whispering praises that made you calm down. 

“I promise it won’t hurt as much as you expect it to.” he told you and you hit him with a snort that screamed ‘how would you know?’ which made him bite back a little smile. “I’ll be careful. You’ll be begging me to fuck you harder in no time.” 

“Fuck, okay, I like that.” you writhed under him as he pressed his thumb to your clit to distract you from the sting as he pushed his cock into you, just the tip, breaching you for the very first time. “Shit, that’s– a lot.” 

“Just breathe, you’re doing so well…”

Yoongi was holding himself up with an arm, chest pressed against yours, your body so small in comparison to his. Your small hands were on each side of his neck, your lips pressed against the side of his face as you let out the prettiest little sounds. 

He was gentle with you, just as he promised, allowing you to get used to him, while holding back from taking you as he wanted. You felt so warm and so fucking tight, wet as slippery as he pushed in little by little, listening to your moans and stopping whenever you showed any signs of discomfort. 

Yoongi could feel you clenching around him as his cock throbbed inside you and he made the mistake to look down, where your bodies met, and he saw the way your cunt was swallowing him, swollen clit and puffy lips. 

“You’re amazing.” he told you as an afterthought. 

“Pretty sure you’re doing all the work–” you managed to croak out. 

“I’m sorry it hurts, baby.” he leaned down to kiss the frown between your brows, the pout on your lips. 

“It feels good.” you whispered against his lips as they found yours. “Just feel so full, but it’s nice.” 

“Yeah? Can I move a little?” 

“Mhmm, you can.” 

With desperation, you parted your mouth to take Yoongi’s lips and he kissed you back, the hand between the two of you easily finding your clit to rub it in small circles as his hips pulled out and then fucked him back in, making you cry out. The more you moaned, the more he rolled your clit to distract you and little by little you opened up to him, making the slide in and out a little easier. 

Soon he couldn’t see any traces of pain in your pretty face, and that’s when he started to let go of his own restraints, starting to fuck you in a quicker pace that would catapult him into a different dimension with how hard you were squeezing him and how deep your nails were sinking in on his skin. 

Your body was rocking with each fuller thrust and harsher pace, little cries of yes, yes, yes! letting him know that it was okay and you could take it. 

“You feel so good, baby–” his voice was broken as his hips snapped back and forward. “I didn’t think anything could be better than your mouth, but–” 

“Good to know you liked my blowjob so much.” you bantered, a dopey smile on your lips. “I can suck you off anytime you–fuck, Yoongi!” 

Instead of fucking in and out of you, Yoongi tentatively rolled his hips, pressing deeper and harder, and you seemed to like that, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close to you. 

“Like this?” he gruffed next to your ear. 

“Yeah, right there–oh my god, the fuck is that–” 

Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as his cock started to repetitively hit your g-spot with each new shallow thrust that was still enough to make you bounce under him, some so strong that it made the little ghosts on the headboard shake. 

“I’m gonna cum, babe, please–!” 

You warned but he already knew it. Could feel you squeeze him impossibly tight, walls milking him for his own release, but he wouldn’t get there before you did. His thumb rolled your clit in quick figure eight movements, despite the tight fit for his arm between the two of you, as his hips pulled almost all the way out, only to snap back in and roll against yours. 

The noises of the creaking bed under your combined weights and the skin slapping against skin only lost to your loud yelp as you let go and your orgasm washed over you. Yoongi’s mouth latched onto your nipple to suck and you trembled all over, twitching with the aftershocks as your climax lasted and lasted. 

Your cunt was clamping so tight, sucking him in so strongly that Yoongi couldn’t even pull out of you, he just stayed there, letting your pussy milk his orgasm out of him. You both moaned together, bodies sticking with sweat, hugging each other for dear life as Yoongi filled you up. 

As your breathing calmed down, Yoongi stayed close to you, peppering kisses all over your face. 

“I love you.” he finally told you, hearing your tiny chuckle of bliss. 

“I know.” 

“Do you, now?” he laughed, pulling out of you slowly to fall onto the bed next to you, trying not to crush you with his weight. 

“Mhm. You wouldn’t fuck me this good if you didn’t.” you grinned, trying to mask a wince as you were empty again, legs closing shut to keep his mess inside.

“You’d be surprised.” Yoongi joked, which earned him a slap to the chest. 

“Stop making me jealous!” you whined, but couldn’t hold onto your pout as you laughed. 

“I didn’t know you were so jealous, doll.” 

Yoongi got up from your bed, not bothering to put his clothes back on as he left your room to walk into your bathroom. There he found more makeup bits, perfumes he knew well, and a vampire soap dispenser that made him laugh. 

“You have no idea how many times I had to tell Kai you were straight.” you were saying as Yoongi looked through your cabinet to grab a clean towel, almost hitting his head on the marble top as he heard you. 

“Wait, what?” 

Once the small tower was wet, and his dick was properly clean, he made it back to your room to find your abashed little smile. 

“You know Kai, the guy from our coffee shop?” you said as if it should be obvious. “He keeps hitting on you, but you’re always clueless. So he keeps asking me what’s your deal and I always tell him you don’t like boys.” 

“You’re kinda right, I just like you.” 

Yoongi couldn’t help but be amused about this new development, but as long as Kai was into him, Yoongi wouldn’t have to worry he might be into you. And it offered many opportunities for him to make you a little jealous, maybe a little more possessive over him. 

Not that you ever had anything to worry about, as far as Yoongi was concerned, he’d belong to you for as long as you wanted him. 

He got back to the bed and helped you pry your legs open, just so he could clean the mess the two of you had made together, both choosing to stay naked as you pulled him back to lay down next to you. 

You were laying on his chest as you said:

“That was so good, Yoon.” 

“Yeah?” he squeezed you a little tighter against his chest, lips pressing to the crown of your head. “Better than the pie?” 

“The pie!”

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1: the confession // series m.list

note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3

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fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston

//

The library is your favourite place. 

At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better. 

You won’t have it this time. 

No way. You have so much work to do!

"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter. 

“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!” 

“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”

“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”

“But then what if I need to throw up—”

“Then throw up.”

“... Jungkook will be there!”

You blink at him. 

“So?”

Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”

His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming. 

Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.

“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy. 

Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”

Your eyes widen.

In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”

“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”

“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion. 

Hobi rolls his eyes at you. 

“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”

Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail. 

He’s right. 

You are dense. 

But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?

“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”

“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you. 

“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"

Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction. 

“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”

“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly. 

You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted. 

Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you. 

He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…

Wow… 

“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.

“... H-hi.”

He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”

Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”

Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”

“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. 

“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. 

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back. 

“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”

Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi. 

“She doesn’t wanna go.”

Hobi groans. 

“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”

“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."

He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”

Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number. 

“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks. 

“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”

“What? Why?”

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”

Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”

You laugh.

“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”

Hobi turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”

With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you. 

“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”

Your body stiffens.

“Do what?”

Jungkook eyes your chair distance. 

“You moved away.”

What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch. 

“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”

“I’m moving closer to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”

“N-no!” 

Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“Now you do.”

For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?

Oh god. 

“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?

“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone. 

You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you well. 

“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”

You stay silent and contemplate.

Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—

“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”

Then, you blurt it out. 

“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.” 

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath. 

He doesn’t deny it. 

“I do have a crush on you.”

Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?

“W-what? You can’t j-just—”

Jungkook tilts his head and pouts. 

“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs. 

You hit his chest. 

“This isn’t funny!”

“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”

“Hey! I like it here.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I… I thought you wanted to study.”

Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”

“... To study!”

“To be with you.” 

You shut up. 

No words, no thoughts, no feelings. 

Okay…

Feelings. Lots of them. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."

You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you. 

“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."

You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!

And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—

"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"