Blueyesuguru - ~ Sam !! - Tumblr Blog

i want to nut inside of him so bad but im a girl

my tumblr blog is my diary

one minute i could be wanting to read the most sluttiest, jaw dropping, ghosts scaring, toe curling, cat flying smut.

the next i be wanting to read the most chest hurting, breathing problem causes, chest burning, tears rolling down my face into my hair, heart breaking angst.

I could get over anything as long as I have something new to be obsessed with

Would Simon do cute-sy couple things with MOB in public? Hand holding, kisses/cuddles, pet names? Or since they are out in the open, is he always reserved until they are in a restaurant or in the car- just away from the public eye

mail-order bride

in private, this man is on his knees for his wife. in the car, he'll put his hand over yours on your thigh or just look over at you time to time to check on you. at home, he fixes your hair for you, offers to cut your nails if you don't get them done, oils your hair, brushes it. he learns your skincare routine and will help you in the bathroom mirror, smoothing it over your face and making sure your skin is hydrated and treated. he definitely asked you to show him how you take off your makeup so that he can help you do it at the end of a long day; he'll come into the bedroom with micellar water and cotton and have you lay your head in his lap as he takes it off for you and murmurs how pretty you are.

he loves putting your shoes on for you, especially if there's laces or things to tie. gets on one knee for you and buckles your heels or ties your runners or zips up your boots.

he doesn't like when you use the stool to get to the top shelf. he likes showing off his strength, picking you up to get you to the shelf, groping you a little and making your head spin when he sets you down and buries his face into your neck.

in public, he's still affectionate, but he doens't initiate much. but he never turns his girl away.

he always wears his mask, so kissing doesn't happen much, but you make it work. when he buys you some flowers at the farmers' market, you kiss him over the mask softly, cooing in his ear, telling him he's so nice, he's so kind. doesn't say anything because he's blushing mad under the mask.

when you're walking along the main road checking out the shops, you reach over and take his hand, and he intertwines your fingers gently as you keep walking.

simon always keeps you away from the road. subconsciously even, always getting between you and someone else, always standing at your back, glaring when someone looks your way too long or looks at you funny. he carries your things for you; shopping bags, groceries, heavy packages, he doesn't let you hold a thing, but you don't mind, especially when the items get heavy. you try not to stare too long as he grunts when he lifts up a heavy box for you, big arms bulging as he carries it into the house.

calls you love, sweetheart, luvvie. his most frequently-used petname is baby, he adores calling you that, cause that's what you are to him. in public, baby makes you shy, in the bedroom, it has you a whining, squirmy little mess.

he doesn't love to be too affectionate in public though. the most he does is hold your hand or keep you close; at the pub, he likes when you sit in his lap sometimes, but he keeps it very cool and casual. although he does grip your chin sometimes or say something into your ear, and it definitely has you squeezing your legs together when you think a little too much about it (effortless sex appeal ok).

in a restaurant, simon is just a straight gentleman. opening doors for you, pulling out your chair, taking your purse for you to hold it or set it aside (and to keep you from paying, although it's adorable when you use the credit card he gave you to give to the waiter). when you need to go to the toilet, he gets up, takes your hand, walks you over so he can see you go inside safely. doesn't matter if it's a fast food place or a fancy restaurant, simon is just always concerned about you and can't sit still unless he knows you get to and from somewhere safely.

with his mask on in public, it's a lot of noses touching, foreheads pressing together, chaste kisses through cloth. always brief and always quiet, but they are intimate exchanges anyways. they are almost always silent, and you speak with nothing but your eyes, but you don't need much else with simon. you know each other by now, can read each other, and you take comfort in your new reality.

he is most himself at home, though. most himself without his mask, cooking you dinner, leaning over you as you bake something for him in your new cast iron pan (he saw the red color of it and thought of you in that cherry dress, couldn't help himself). he's most himself feeding the cats, cutting up whole sardines and quail eggs, a pump of salmon oil and some freeze-dried chicken hearts (the black cat prefers veggies, too, in an elevated bowl--the orange one is forced to eat from a lick mat or else she'll eat too fast for her own good). he's most himself watching you in the mirror, stealing glances of you coming out of the shower, tucking you into bed.

and he feels the most alone when he stands in front of you, duffel bag over his shoulder as johnny honks on the car horn outside. he feels the most alone, the saddest, when he tries to ignore your trembling lip and teary eyes as he says goodbye to you.

in his own home, mask on, feeling so close to you and yet somehow, the farthest from you. and when he kisses you goodbye, mask hiked up over his nose, he tries to forget the taste of your tears and the sound of your choked i love you.

if he thinks about it too long, he won't move from this spot.

toji falling asleep on ur chest……… big man acting all tough and pretending like the combination of how warm and soft you are and how nice you smell and your fingers scratching his scalp isn’t putting him to sleep but before he knows it he’s snoring.

going out of your way to search up [insert character] ANGST and all you get is smut

Warning: Gojo has really bad breeding/pregnancy kink

You have an inkling that Gojo Satoru is trying to get you pregnant.

You weren't sure at first, but the subtle clues began to add up. The way he insisted on being close to you during your most fertile days, his knowing smiles whenever you mentioned the future, and the way he would tenderly ask about your health and if you were taking any medications. And then of course, the fucking.

He is absolutely relentless. He reels his hips back just enough so his fat tip barely leaves your warm cunny, the anticipation building as you brace yourself. In an instant, he slams them forward, hard and fast right into your cervix. It's like he is trying to bring you and himself to the edge as fast as possible. And what you don't know is that he is, and after that, he will start all over again.

At the start he is able to keep his composure. But as he thrusts deeper, Jesus, when he feels, like, really fucking feels how warm and tight your pussy is, he starts to crumble like sand. Seeing you beneath him, your eyes glassy with tears from the intensity, your lower lip trembling as soft moans escape you, stirs something primal within him. It makes his body kick into auto-pilot as his head fills with thoughts only on filling you.

"F-feel so good baby," Gojo will groan into your ear as he rolls his hips into you. "S-shit I cant-" he gasps when you squeeze his length, your pussy squeezing him in a vice grip. That's when the babbling starts.

His mind is too hazy with euphoria to actually realize what he is saying but once he starts he can't stop; "Gonna cum in you baby, gonna cum in you and make you a mommy yeah?" He groans and throws his head back, sweat dripping now his neck, Adams's apple bobbing and mouth open as he pants for air.

"Come on answer me baby" He's not a whining man but here he is stumbling over his words like a school boy because of how good he feels right now. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how you wanna be a mommy, how you wanna have my babies"

You know you should say no. You really do, but you just cant stop yourslef. "I do, I do I do" you babble, the words strung out on your lips from how good he is fucking you. Each of his thrusts sends electric shocks through your veins, the delicious friction of his cock setting your nerves alight. He fills you completely, stretching you to a blissful fullness that borders on too much, yet exactly what you crave. The way he moves within you, deep and relentless, drives you to the edge of sanity. His intensity, the raw power behind each movement, makes you feel cherished and claimed all at once. The euphoria builds, each stroke stoking the fire within you, each moment of fullness punctuated by a hunger for more. The collision of his dick against your cervix has you seeing colors. His motions are fluid due to how wet you are and his pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit so so so perfectly, driving you closer near the edge.

He moans at your words. God you were so perfect, you were going to be the perfect mother he can practically see it now; your cute belly bump, your tits round and plump with milk. He thinks that you would have to pry him off your nipple because god once he gets a test of you he won't be able to stop. Everything feels so good, he is practically seeing colors, oh god he is close he is so close-

"Fuck!" Gojo's hip stutter and his grip tightened significantly, a loud moan of your name slipping from his lips as his own orgasm washed over him, coming so hard he sees white. As the warm, sticky liquid fills your cunt, a surge of intense pleasure washes over you. The sensation is both overwhelming and deeply satisfying, and enough to bring you over the edge. Your pussy spasms from the pleasure and a white ring of cum forms around his dick from how tight the fit is.The warmth spreads, a comforting yet exhilarating feeling that envelopes your senses, leaving you awash in a blissful glow.

Maybe a baby with Gojo wouldn't be so bad.

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

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Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

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Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

Loverboy ༓ kth (m)

✑ Summary: After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

Pairing: taehyung x reader

AU/Genre: fluff, smut, angst, established relationship

Word Count: 7,177

Warnings: feat. Jimin and Tannie, body insecurity (including some self-deprecation but nothing toooo bad), sexual insecurity, a hint of marriage insecurity, catty coworkers (one who wants your bf! 😠), swearing, social drinking, and explicit sexual content

Sexual warnings: oh where do I start? dom!taehyung, sub!reader, two smut scenes, praise kink, asking for consent, lingerie, foggy glasses, reader is on pill, f*ngering in the kitchen, oral (f.), d*rty talk, making out, tiny bit of breastplay, m*ssonary (legs over shoulders and then around waist), hand holding while c*ming bc I'm a sap, slight begging kink, back kisses, cuddling, taehyung calls oc sl*t once but all other times he is calling her beautiful, baby, etc., lots of neck kisses, oc does her best to initiate, if I have overlooked some my apologies....these are the main ones though.

Now Playing: UP by J. Valentine (thanks to tae's live 😳)

A/N: I've been have crazy tae fever 😅 once again my pwp's turn into fluffy one-shots hahah with smut ofc. Anyway please enjoy 🥰 fyi oc isn't a virgin nor shy generally speaking, but she's nervous about her sexual abilities.

The last ten minutes of work on Fridays are possibly the best moments of your life.

And it’s all thanks to an unspeakably gorgeous man with ruffled ebony hair, perfectly plump cherry lips, and a seductive tiger-like gaze. The faint mole on his nose is wicked cute too and when he puts his reading glasses on–oh fuck.

Of course, you’re referring to your boyfriend, Taehyung. You accidentally bumped into him while he was taking his Pomeranian for a walk four months ago; leading to the messiest (yet cute) first date ever. Now, he and Tannie come over to your apartment every weekend for snuggles under your cozy fleece blankets.

TGIF right?

But while Friday nights typically consist of snuggling with two goofs, it means getting hammered at the bar downtown to your coworkers. You don’t typically take up their invites to join but tonight you were guilt-tripped into it. Something about chumming with the gossipy group rather than being on their blacklist for the seventh rejection in a row was more appealing—they can be a vicious bunch.

Taehyung wasn't off work for another hour or two anyway, leaving you with a decent amount of time to kill. So why not appease the peanut gallery for a few?

“It’s my two-year anniversary with Eun-woo,” one of your coworkers, Ji-won, pipes up after taking a sip of her Cosmopolitan. She swirls the glass in her hand before setting it down on the table. Ji-won works in the finance department and is absolutely gorgeous. Her skin is clear, has honey-colored eyes, and possibly the best body proportions a woman can have. Her personality is no joke either and her laugh? Infectious. Everyone who comes across her either wants to marry her or be her best friend.

The cynical part of you wants to dislike her but it’s impossible–that’s how charismatic she is.

“Oh my god, congratulations babe!” Another coworker of yours reaches over and pulls the woman into a tight squeeze, giggling at the news. Suzy also works in the finance department and the pair are the best of friends. “I can’t believe how well it’s been going between you and Eun-woo! What are you doing to celebrate? You have to tell me!” She grabs her friend's shoulders and shakes her.

Unlike Ji-won, Suzy is much more energetic and eager to know the details of everyone’s lives. Nosy in other words. But despite her invasiveness, she manages to attract a great number of suitors as well; taking nearly half of them home with her every night. Suzy has beautiful bone structure and to get to the point, she’s naturally very sexy.

You don’t feel the same way towards her as you do with Ji-won; you dislike her quite a bit. The main reason is that she has an insane crush on your boyfriend and shamelessly flirts with him whenever he’s around. She’s told you many times before that if anything happened between you two, to let her know. She masks it as a joke to lighten the blow but god, you don’t like calling people a bitch but if the shoe fits.

“We’re taking a short weekend trip to Jeju Island,” you hear Ji-won’s silky voice reply, cheeks growing rosier with each word. “I think he might propose to me but I’m so nervous.” Her fingers move to grip her Cosmopolitan; raising it to her ruby-red lips to take another sip.

“That’s so wonderful,” you start, downing a shot yourself. The burn of the alcohol rolling down the back of your throat serves as an excellent distraction from your personal worries about marriage. You love the idea but would anyone stay with you for life?

Your relationship with Taehyung has been going swimmingly well, with the occasional fight here and there, but you haven’t been together nearly long enough for a proposal to come into the picture. Maybe someday but you can’t afford to jump ahead of yourself.

“Jeju Island will be perfect for you both. You’re like a couple straight from the Hallmark movies,” you continue with an encouraging smile. “You be sure to tell us if he really does propose though. What hint did he give to cause your suspicions?”

Ji-won chuckles and tucks some of her hair behind an ear. “We were packing for the trip last night and I saw him sneak a small jewelry box into his bag. I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe I was seeing things but when I thought about it later, I don’t think I was wrong.”

Once again, Suzy grips the poor woman’s arm to tug it out of excitement. “Please tell me I get to plan the bachelorette party! I’ll hire only the best strippers for you babe, as long as you want them of course. Oh, I’m just so crazy about this! Weddings are my heart and soul!”

After watching the scene unfold in front of you a grimace spreads on your lips. “Weddings are your heart and soul?” you repeat as a question, trying to withhold your judgment. “Last I knew you weren’t the fondest of happily ever afters.”

“That’s a good point!” A fist suddenly pounds on the table. You all look toward the source; your third coworker Mina who’s already borderline drunk. Mina is your IT specialist and after so much HTML and Python, her brain is utterly fried. Similar to you, she started dating someone about six months back except he’s been on an overseas business trip for the past week.

“Suzy,” she points at the woman whose eyes widen at the stark gesture. “You sleep around, right? So __’s right that you don’t actually like fairytale weddings.” Her words slur a bit due to her drunken state.

Across the table, Suzy rolls her eyes and shrugs. “For myself yeah, but not for other people. I’m not against weddings entirely.” She leans towards Ji-won with hopeful eyes. “By the way, if you need help picking out what underwear to bring with you on your trip, just say the word.”

Ji-won’s previous blush returns fourfold at the offer. “Thanks but I have that under control.”

“Oh good,” she praises, waving her margarita around in her hand. “It’d be an atrocity if you didn’t. Lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping your sex life spicy, and if you didn’t have any I’d drag all of us to the store right now. __ agrees with me.” She winks. “Her and Taehyung must have gone through tons of sets by now.”

What. The. Fuck.

When did Ji-won’s potential engagement turn into a poke into your sex life?

You choose to ignore the comment entirely.

Not that she needs to know but you and Taehyung have recently started becoming very active in the bedroom; you're never in the same position twice. Even began getting down and dirty in the back seat of his car (...if he isn’t the biggest experimentalist you’ve dated then you don’t even know your own name).

But while it's been wild in the bedroom, lingerie isn’t an area you’ve explored yet.

You know, it sounds crazy. Surely a couple that's open to a whole list of kinks and positions would dabble in something as basic as lacy underwear.

It's not the case here.

Truth is you're timid of the whole idea; of purposefully seducing someone with your body. Would you be so bold? No, even if you are interested to try it out, you'd shy away within the first ten seconds.

Yes, you've recently become sexually active with your boyfriend but 90% of the time it's him who's doing the initiating. The subtle hand on your thigh or kiss on your neck while you're trying to wash the dishes—he's truly evil with that one.

Not to mention that Taehyung has your clothes ripped off before you can blink so what's the point of buying expensive, itchy lingerie?

Atrocity or not, you have your reasons.

"Well?" The sound of Suzy's nagging tone brings you out of your daze. She stares you down with piercing eyes, demanding a reply.

You merely shrug and take another shot.

Sorry, but you're not really into the whole swapping sex stories with the woman who wants to sleep with your boyfriend.

Suzy gives a small huff when she realizes you aren't talking. "So anyway..." she turns to the other two. "Sex is boring without a proper lace set. Or silk if that's more your thing. I have at least twenty in my draw." She takes the lime from the rim of her glass and plops it into her margarita proudly.

You're mid-eye roll when you hear Mina shouting in agreement. "Hell yeah, it's boring! I just got a new set the other day for a video call I'm having with my boyfriend tomorrow night." A round of oohs is given before she continues. You on the other hand listen intently. "Ever since he's been away in England at his conferences, it's been like a heaven sent to keeping our sex life alive."

Ji-won nods. "I wasn't sure how it would go the first time I wore lace for Eun-woo. Once I did, we never went back. It gave me a sense of power to take the lead too, which most men find really hot. It gets tiring when they have to do all the work all the time."

The girls chuckle together while your mind reels. Taehyung's never had a problem with you being in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants before fucking you silly. But then again, it's not like you've ever asked him.

Your face flushes at the thought—you've never actually asked if he wanted more.

Is he actually happy with the sex?

Should you be doing more for him like wearing lacy underwear or a maid outfit (or whatever's in these days)?

Maybe he isn't satisfied at all but tolerates it because he loves you. Sex isn't the only part that matters in a relationship you know.

Still.

It's an important one.

And if a few pieces of lace are seemingly such a necessity as your coworkers attest...then you're fucked.

Ji-woo places a gentle hand on your shoulder and furrows her eyebrows in concern. "You feeling okay? This is the second time you've zoned out in twenty minutes."

"Oh my god," Suzy gasps, hand covering her mouth. "It makes sense now. You haven't had sex with Taehyung yet have you?!" Her eyes smile at you devilishly as she bites down a grin. This woman seriously needs to get a hobby other than obsessing over your boyfriend.

"Actually," you drawl, scooting your chair backward until you're able to get up. "We have multiple times and we don't plan on stopping. He's coming to my place in an hour or so where he'll gladly fuck me wherever we please. I gotta head out for that now but see you all Monday."

You hurry away from the group as quick as you can, fully aware of their eyes burning holes in the back of your neck and jaws dropping in shock. Why did you say that __? Fuck it.

You feel unwell.

For the next hour and a half, you're restless; pacing around the house in search of meaningless tasks to do. Cleaning usually helps in these situations, though it's proving quite useless this time.

Are you a good sex partner?

Does he secretly wish you'd take the riegns more?

You fluff the living room pillow and toss it on the couch. Stupid. It's all stupid but you can't shake it.

When your boyfriend finally arrives at your place, you take a deep breath before throwing the front door open.

"Hi baby, how was your d—"

As soon as Taehyung strolls inside and sets Tannie down on your apartment floor, you grab the collar of his shirt and press your lips firmly on his. He's surprised at your boldness yet not the slightest disappointed given the hands that smoothly settle around your hips.

"I missed you," you say desperately, walking him back into your kitchen island. Taehyung grunts when the small of his back hits the edge.

"I missed you more."

He shoves his tongue into your mouth, drawing out a sweet moan from your lips. His favorite is when you gasp, hips bucking into his. So with subtle fingers, he untucks your blouse from your pants to trace up the expanse of your back. His cool fingers cause you to shiver as he does this; not because you're chilly but because of the growing anticipation inside you.

As Taehyung runs his large palms up and down your bare back, you card through his soft, fluffy hair. He knows how messed up you enjoy making it. That and it's typically a sign that you're extremely turned on; yearning for him.

He'll gladly take either.

"Oh!" You yelp when he spins you around until it's your back against the counter. An unexpected giggle comes out of you upon seeing his glasses foggy from your mid-make-out session. You do the honors of removing them from his face and carefully set them on the counter. "Hi handsome," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Taehyung lowers his head to nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, placing several feather-like kisses along the ridge. "Beautiful," he returns your greeting, smokey eyes lifting back up to meet yours. "Wasn't prepared to be kissed like that."

"Did you like it?" You bite your lip which most definitely does nothing to tame the growing erection in his trousers. Taehyung brings a thumb up to your lower lip and swipes across it lightly before pushing it into your mouth.

"I liked it a little too much." His voice drops a few octaves as he watches you suck on the digit. He'd rather have it be his big cock but it's all about the build-up. "I was trying to be a good boyfriend and ask about your day but all you seem to want is to get dicked down on your kitchen counter. Is that all that's on your mind tonight baby? To spread your legs like a dirty girl?"

You whine and rub your thighs together but he prys them apart with his knee. He then moves to unbutton your pants, watching for a nod in consent.

"Please Tae," you say once he retracts his thumb from your mouth, giving a brief nod. "Been waiting all week for you to touch me."

"Shit." Taehyung makes quick work of your pant button and unfastens the zip. He then dips his fingers into your underwear to glide across your folds. "You want me to touch you here baby? Stick my fingers in you and make you come around them?" He teases, obvious that you're wetter than the Pacific Ocean; you could probably take him all right here and now if he desired.

"Yes, put them in," you beg, bucking your hips into his hand. "Please, can't wait much longer."

He smirks at your neediness and begins to sink two of his fingers into your wet pussy, just the tips. "How's this? Can you come like this? You're so wet I bet you can."

You shake your head, inches from snarling at him. "More. Need your whole finger in me to come. Baby—"

As soon as you drop the 'B' word Taehyung pushes his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. The loud gasp you let out reminds him of how far his fingers can actually reach; sometimes he forgets how long and slender they are.

His pace is steady from the start, fingers pumping in and out of you as he watches your head fall back further and further in pleasure.

"Fuck," he swears and quickens his speed, curling his fingers to properly stimulate your sweet spot. "I can feel your pussy clenching and throbbing already. Come whenever you want okay?"

"Uh," you answer in a pant, sweat lining across your forehead as your body jerks back and forth.

"Mm that's it," he coos. "Can't even talk can you? That's okay, focus on how my fingers are making you feel. Good right?" He continues thrusting inside of you, loving how you've started riding his fingers in an attempt to make yourself come faster.

"F-feels amazing Tae!" You moan as the peak of your high inches closer and closer. To help get you off, Taehyung circles his thumb over your clit and latches his lips to the side of your neck.

"You wanna come?" He taunts between kisses and you reply with a breathy 'yes'. Taehyung smirks and nibbles on your ear, licking the shell of it a little until finally, you come all over his fingers.

"Such a dirty slut," he says, slipping his fingers out of you and cleaning them off. He kisses you afterward while his hands work to remove your blouse. Once he has the material pushed off your shoulders he kisses a hot trail down to your collarbone.

Taehyung reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra next but then, he feels your body suddenly tense up. It's not a good tense-up either, it's stiff and uncomfortable.

"You okay beautiful?" He stops all movements and puts his hands on either side of you, caging you between him and the counter. "Did I go too far? Shit I'm sorry if I did, you can tell me."

You shake your head fervently, rejecting the idea. "No, you didn't do anything." You then glance down at yourself in your plain black underwear; nothing fancy. All at once the conversation with your coworkers floods your thoughts again and you feel silly for letting it consume you but it does, it bothers you.

"Taehyung I—" you choke on your words as you watch your boyfriend's previously playful face turn into one of worry. You glance down at your hands and chuckle, feeling bad that you just ruined the mood. "I really need your dick in me, let's just get back to it." You move to kiss him but he doesn't let you.

"Hold on a second. I know that laugh," he says, looking deep into your eyes. "Something's bothering you."

"Oh no, I was just thinking that you must be really hard right now so—" You wave your hands about but he grasps them into his, softly.

"Stop. My dick can wait. What's going on?"

You sigh and allow your shoulders to slump a little. "Its nothing, Tae."

"Which means it's absolutely something." He takes the initiative to lift you on the counter; into a seated position and you know, you're not getting out of this until you tell him what's up.

A good 30 seconds of silence pass with him patiently waiting for you to say something, anything. Taehyung's about to prod a little more until you blurt it out all at once.

"Am I sexy? I mean, we have sex but are you...satisfied? Are there fantasies you haven't told me yet? And what about lingerie? You know I haven't worn any of that so...am I boring? Is it boring to have sex with me? Because I can wear that stuff if you want...if you like it I mean."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open at you, baffled by what he's just heard. It takes him a few moments to gather his thoughts; the last thing he wants is to be an idiot and reply dumbly.

"I'm sorry," he starts and rubs soothing circles on your hands. "I don't know where to start. Of course, you're sexy, you're my angel. And boring? This coming from the woman who makes me hard just by looking at her?"

"Tae I know that–"

"I love you," he continues. "And I love all the things your pussy does to me. There's nothing you need to do, wear, or say for those to be true. Now who gave you the idea that you're boring? Was it me? Shit, it was me wasn't it?"

"No! It wasn't." Your fingers tighten in his hold, eyebrows raising in slight alarm. "I was out with some girls from work and they said that lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping sex spicy. They also said that sex is boring without it and that a woman should take charge in the bedroom so her partner isn't doing all the work."

"Well, that's bullshit."

"Taehyung! You're not taking this seriously."

"I am baby. I promise I am. But since when did fabric define a healthy, thriving sex life? We fuck all the time without lingerie and last I checked we both come. And you know why? Because we're made for each other and we have really great sex. I'm not one to blab about our sex life to others but if I did, everyone would be jealous. Especially of me, because I'm with a literal angel. So not to belittle your coworkers but they're a little narrow-minded."

The faintest smirk pulls at the corner of your boyfriend's lips as he slowly dances his fingers along your waist. "By the way, I would happily do all the work. I aim to please as you know. And taking charge isn't a problem for you seeing as you practically jumped me two seconds from walking into the door. Poor Tannie is scarred for life now. I think he ran into your bedroom."

"Stop," you allow a chuckle, feeling the tension lighten from his joke. "Tannie's seen a lot worse, I'm sure. He just likes my fluffy comforter. Little dog has high standards just like his daddy."

"It's true, I spoiled him too early." Taehyung's grin spreads like oil across his face and you smile as well, not as wide as his but enough that the mood picks back up. "Back to what we were talking about though. I don't want you to think that you're not giving me enough okay? Maybe for your coworkers, sex is different for them and fair enough, they have their own relationships to maintain. But, as long as you're alright with how we're doing, both in and out of the bedroom, then we're perfectly fine."

"So..." You pause to take in the drastic difference in opinion. "You don't want me to wear a sexy lace set or something? What about a ribboned bodysuit? I've seen those becoming more and more popular because they show–"

"Yes, I–I'm aware of the variety out there." He wets his lips, thumbs pressing into your delicate skin harder. "I won't lie in saying I wouldn't love seeing you in a set or two, but I think it's up to you. Because the only thing I need is for you to be comfortable, whether it's in an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweats or naked on this countertop. You're stunnimg to me either way because it's you in front of me and no one else."

"I love you Tae," you sigh and lean into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist to bring him near. Naturally, his crotch brushes against yours as he inches to stand between your parted legs. "Wow, you're still hard?" You snort, feeling his very obvious bulge.

Taehyung kisses the top of your head. "Yes, you'll be surprised at how long I can last with a boner."

A week after your conversation with Taehyung and getting possibly the best fuck of your life on your kitchen island, you find yourself at the mall with your favorite pink-haired boy; Park Jimin. You and Jimin have been close since college and when you say there are no secrets between you, you mean it.

Jimin is also a fashion mogul which is why he's insisted he tag along with you on your search for new clothes. Due to the coolness of the season, you're in need of some warm fall clothing. He prefers you look for something from Dior or Chanel but you put a stop to that; your bank account doesn't have the funds to support that joy ride just yet.

"My grandma's sweater looks better." You hear your best friend sass for the twentieth time behind you. "Put it back __."

"No." You throw the hanger with the baby blue cardigan over your arm and continue browsing through the sale rack. "I happen to like this one, you snob."

The man instantly slaps a hand over his heart as if mimicking being shot. "So rude when I'm just trying to save you from a fashion disaster. If my assistance isn't needed then I might as well go over to the men's section and take a look at the new cufflinks I saw on the way in."

You give your eyes a roll and if you did it once more, they'd get stuck up there. "Fine by me, you've been gawking at them the entire time we've been here. I thought you didn't dwell with the commoners Mr. Only-Buys-Designer-Staight-From-The-Runway-Itself."

"Well, what can I say," Jimin snaps and heads for the other side of the store. "We all have faults. It just so happens that my new partner prefers these kinds of cheap renditions over classic Prada cufflinks."

"Aww poor Chim," you holler after him. "Maybe gift him a pair for Christmas to help break him in?"

"Tried that for his birthday and it was a major fail __. But it's all good because I'm saving that gift for someone else."

You freeze at the questionable choice of words. "And who's that?" you ask. Jimin whips his head over a shoulder and smiles sweetly.

"Your boyfriend. Did you forget he also loves designer?"

"Oh yeah, right. Thanks, Jimin." You hold out the baby blue cardigan, observing it once more. Maybe you shouldn't get this? Not that it matters to Taehyung what you wear either but....maybe it does look old ladyish.

"Hey," your best friend strides over to you again with a softened expression. "Everything alright between you two?"

"Everything's great, you just got me thinking of something is all. I recently had a small talk with him last night about, you know, our bedroom situation."

Though your voice is lowered Jimin understands you clearly. You confide in him a lot so of course he knows about all your personal challenges; the ins and outs of you. He's known about your hesitations towards lingerie and intimacy long before Taehyung came into the picture.

"Oh shit," he swears under his breath. "What did he say?"

You proceed to retell him the highlights of last week's conversation; how sensitive Taehyung was to you and how he told you it's up to you if you want to bring lingerie into the mix. Jimin nods along.

"So what about you then? Do you want to explore the endless realm of lacy bodysuits, transparent bras and panty sets, garters, and aisles of naughty roleplay outfits to fulfill your sexual fantasies or no?"

"Damn, no wonder that lingerie store you worked at straight out of college didn't want you to leave. Anyway, I was thinking about giving it a try but I'm still unsure. It's not that I don't want to or that Taehyung's pressuring me–I still just feel really nervous."

"Here's a thought then." Jimin hums aloud. "What if we went to an underwear store and you tried on a few things? You don't have to buy any of it or take any home to show off. It'll be an experiment of sorts."

You ponder the idea and it doesn't sound half bad. Low commitment right?

"Okay. I think there's a Victoria's Secret on the second floor."

"Oh no no," the man shakes his head as if amused by your cuteness. "We're going somewhere a little more special than that."

"Jimin! Help please!" You holler from inside the dressing room of one the poshest boutiques you've been in. Turns out the place you've been dragged to is a high-end underwear store called Delilah's. You were beyond skeptical of the price on your way in but it wasn't horrible.

"Oh my god," Jimin rushes into the stall with you as soon as you call for him. "You look so sexy in this __. Like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped."

"The tiny silk bows on this thing barely cover my nipples." And you're not exaggerating. The set you've opted to try on first is Jimin's pick; a strappy red two-piece with matching garters, silk choker, and bows over both breasts. He says it's supposed to be like a sexy Mrs. Clause but while it's sexy for sure, it's way more revealing than how you'd prefer (at least the first time trying this kind of thing out).

"Turn around," he commands. "You're straps are a little loose."

"I don't think this one fits me Chim. This is obviously meant for a specific body type and it's not mine." You have a hard time staring at yourself in the mirror so you stare down towards the floor instead.

Jimin takes a small breath and turns your shoulders back around so you're facing him again. "This is for anyone who wants to wear it, love. Your body is beautiful and this set looks smashing on you. If it's not your style, no problem, but I won't have you getting down on yourself."

"You're starting to sound like Taehyung now." You give a nervous chuckle and rub your arm.

"If it means you listen to him then good. I'm your best friend and your biggest supporter __ so you know I'll always be honest with you. Now do we not like this because it's not to your taste or is it because you're not good enough for it?"

"Not...my taste," you slowly draw out the words. "Thanks Chim."

"You really mean that?" He straight into your eyes, knowing you have a habit of telling him only what he wants to hear sometimes. You nod.

"Yes, and I was thinking maybe we can keep the color the same but go for something a little tamer?"

"Anything for you, love."

Well, he convinced you to buy the third set you tried on at the boutique. It's a similar shade of red as the first set; the ones with the bows on it, but covers a bit more. Both the bra and panties are strappy and made of sheer, but also have the occasional lace detailing to cover the important parts. A matching red robe made of silk was included in the purchase too.

When you got home, you shoved the set into the back of your drawer, not thinking you'd take it out any time soon.

But alas, you did.

You're now twisting in front of your bedroom mirror with it on, along with the robe which loosely hangs off your shoulder.

"Is this cute?" You ask yourself. "I look kinda different with it on. Maybe I should return it," you continue to talk to yourself in mutters until your bedroom door squeaks open. You jump at the sudden intrusion.

There, sauntering into the bedroom is your boyfriend's dog. Being Friday again, Taehyung and Tannie came over to spend the weekend with you. But while your boyfriend is busy showering in your bathroom, Tannie has decided he wants to make himself cozy on your bed.

"Hi Tan." You crouch down on your knees in front of the pup and give him a few good pat. He yips at you but doesn't move away. "Have you still not made up your mind about me yet? I know I took your daddy away from you so now you don't have him all to yourself anymore but didn't I give you extra treats this morning?"

Tannie's big eyes look up at you and then towards your bed. He then trots over to the edge where his doggie stairs are and uses them to climb up atop the bed. You stand up from your kneeled position and place your hands on your hips.

"Well, I guess you made this place your home huh?" You watch as the little dog spins three times in a circle before plopping down. "Alright, you're too cute to be fake mad at. Since you're here though, maybe you can help me."

You feel utterly stupid for what you're about to do next, yet that feeling doesn't stop you. "What do you think about this new set I got? It's my first one so I'm excited but it looks weird right?"

Tan huffs and stares at you.

"Yeah? It does, doesn't it? You know when I got this I was thinking maybe I could get into it...this whole lingerie thing. And it's sexy, no denying that, but as I told my friend Jimin. It's not meant for my bod–"

Your sentence is abruptly cut off when a pair of hands make their way around your hips. They stay atop your robe yet the burn of your boyfriend's fingers is still fiery hot.

When did he get out of the shower?

Taehyung stands behind you in a pair of silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. His bare chest presses lightly against your back and his wet hair falls messily around his face with a few strands covering his eyes. "Hi," he breathes in a husky tone, right next to your ear. It sends a whole trail of shivers up your spine. "What's not meant for your body, baby?"

In a ball of nervous energy, you move to tug the robe as closed as you can, forcing his fingers to loosen around your body. "Tae! I didn't hear you get out of the shower. I was just talking to Tannie and I-I'm gonna go get changed, now that the bathroom's free."

You'd make a beeline out your bedroom door if it weren't for the arm that snakes around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. "Do you have to change? Because I really, really don't want you to. As always I'll let you make your own decisions though..." Evilly, he sweeps your hair all to one side to expose the nape of your neck. He then places a kiss on the sensitive area; too soft, his lips are too soft.

You bite your moan back however, don't meet his question with a response. The thought of opening your robe and showing him the number underneath makes you crazy with arousal. You just wish you didn't have the pesky whisper that tells you that there's nothing to go crazy for after you do.

You're really not trying to be so hard on yourself but can you actually do this? The set is hot, sure, but maybe it was a mistake to g– "Oh Tae, fuck." You gasp when your boyfriend latches his mouth on the side of your neck, sucking on it lewdly. It never fails to send your head backward into his firm chest. Your eyes fall shut to bask in the pleasure. "You're way too good at this," you coo.

Taehyung slowly traces down the fabric of your robe, near the opening. It's a struggle for him not to pull the thin material open. "Can I see?" It's a plead.

You wet your lips and fiddle with the material yourself. "I-I don't know."

"Let me rephrase that." He folds his palms over your fingers and spins you both around so you're able to see each other's reflection in your full-length mirror. "Do you want me to see?" His deep, lusty eyes lock with yours in the glass. Taehyung brings his chin down to your shoulder, resting it there calmly while his grip tightens around you.

He gives you as long as you need to reply.

"...yes," you finally decide, dragging your robe down and off your shoulders. Taehyung groans and kisses your bare shoulder as you cautiously show yourself to him.

"Tan." His voice calls out, more gruff than when he was speaking with you moments ago. "Living room." The little dog's ears perk up and he flees off the bed and out the room.

"Did he really have to go?"

"He's our baby. He can't witness all the nasty things I'm about to do to you. He'll make himself comfy on the couch, don't worry." Your boyfriend runs his hands up your thighs before helping you remove your robe completely. "I haven't said it yet so I'm going to do it now. You look fucking hot in this, like a lucid dream. I don't deserve this, fuck."

"Really?"

His fingers sensually trace your curves, then the thin band of your lace panties. "Yeah, really," he hums and cups your mound. "This color on you is making me insane. I can't decide if I want to take it off or savor it on your body a little longer."

"Tae—mfph!" He doesn't let you finish, preferring to turn you around so he can press his lips on yours. He moves with passion, nipping your bottom lip to sneak his tongue inside. Your moans only grow louder when his grinds his hips into you.

With a gentle pull, Taehyung leads you to the edge of your bed. "Lay down for me, on your stomach."

You do as he says and slide onto your mattress, face down. All your senses tingle at once when you feel his body hovering over you. His legs straddle you from behind as his hands cling to the sheets on either side of you.

"Tae what are you doing?" Your senses heighten, your heart thumping at the inability to see him.

"This," he answers and brings his warm lips to the small of your back. The tiny jolt of surprise doesn't stop him from continuing to kiss up your spine and all the way up between your shoulder blades. He's never kissed you like this before. Your body arches off the bed from the newness and arousal pools between your thighs.

"This feels ni-nice." The broken moan spurs your boyfriend on. He kisses you the same way again, faster. Clearly, wherever your boyfriend's lips touch you, you like it tenfold.

Once he gets back to your shoulder blades Taehyung lifts his head up and unclasps your bra. He then flips you over, gives you a quick peck, and rips the now pesky material off your body.

"I love seeing this on you and I wanted to wait it out some more but I can't do it." He cups the swell of your breasts, squeezing them together while his thumbs fondle your perky nipples. "You look so, so beautiful and I need to make love to you now or I'm going to come in my pants like a teenager." He releases your breasts and mouths at the supple flesh, tongue licking across the peaks.

"Fuck," you moan and sink your fingers into his hair. "I need you too. Please."

Your panties are off before you know it, the cool air hitting your warm pussy. Taehyung spreads your thighs wide open and tells you to keep them there until he gets his own pants and underwear off. He's seconds from putting himself into you when he pauses.

"Can't skip over this can we?" He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb and lowers his head down to your center. "Not that you really need it seeing as you're soaked down here, but I'm a creature of habit." He proceeds to lick up your folds, teasing your clit at the same time.

"Oh, oh my god Tae!" You claw his hair harder and reflexively buck your hips into his mouth, drawing a deep groan from him.

"Shit!" He raises his face from between your thighs with lips already glistening with your arousal. "Maybe I can finish eating you out after I fuck you into the mattress."

You nod your head. "Okay, yeah sure, fuck me. I'm still on the pill."

Taehyung lifts both of your legs over his shoulders and rubs the tip of his cock up and down your entrance. You clench at the teasing. "You are literally going to be the end of me, baby." He thrusts himself all the way into you, bottoming out much quicker than other times.

"Fuuck," you both moan at the stretch. Taehyung's hips snap forward with vigor, his thick length being squeezed by your velvet walls with each push and pull.

"Goddamn, this pussy is too good for me. So hot and tight, shit! You're so beautiful you know that? Everything you are. That's why—it's why it hurt me so much when you asked if I thought you were sexy or boring last week."

Your nails dig into the sheets as you watch the veins protrude from his neck. His eyes, on the other hand, are laser-focused on you.

"Hurt....you?"

"Yes," he affirms, fucking into you faster with hard, controlled thrusts. "Hurt me so much because you're mine and I–fuck I'm gonna come soon!"

I never want you to question how I feel about you. And when you asked me those things, it made my head spin. Our relationship is not all about sex and I thought maybe I was making it seem like that. And now, seeing you in sexy red set gives me such a mindfuck but I don't want you to feel like it's just because of the lace."

"No, no not at all. I don't think any of that because you're perfect to me too Tae. Going out with my coworkers and having that conversation just triggered me. This is all still new to me....us."

"I know." Taehyung unexpectedly stops his movement to lower your legs from his shoulders. He then brings them around his mid-section which you gladly wrap around. "It's new to me too but we're just starting right?" Your hands are intertwined with his when he resumes his previous brutal pace.

"Right," you breathe, fingers gripping his firmer against the mattress "I'm-I'm gonna come baby. It's so close."

"Me too."

You both have your release at the same time, panting like crazy from the post-orgasmic bliss. Taehyung rides both your highs out, then pulls out of you slowly.

"Holy fuck." You're the first to speak. "That damn lingerie really did make our sex better."

"Better?" Taehyung squeaks out. "What do you mean better? Was it not as good before?"

"I'm kidding, however, I do think you were a lot more eager this time. What happened to the whole being able to last with a boner for eternity if you have to speech?"

He breaks out into a cute grin. "I guess I was bullshitting then, lesson learned. Also, even though the lingerie is hot we don't have to keep doing it...I mean if you want to–"

You shut him up with a kiss and snuggle into him. "Maybe we'll try it again. It was kinda fun. Either way, you're right, we don't need it because I love you."

"I love you more. Now how about I fulfill that promise earlier about eating you out?" He jerks back to look at you with a quirked brow.

"Taehyung....we were having a moment."

"Oh shit, sorry. We can keep snuggling, come here beautiful." He pulls you back into himself with a smile.

a/n: Hoping you enjoyed ☺ LMK your thoughts 💞

masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

jeon jungkook fanfics that deserve to be turned into kdramas and selling books.

(a recommendation you badly need) ⭑.ᐟ

Sauvage ౨ৎ by @tljunglebook

— grumpy x sunshine, cold and detached jungkook (who turns into a whipped puppy later on) work romance, slow burn.

(starting off strong! this book’s got the most delicious slow burn to ever exist! screaming at how sexy, dirty minded, down bad & protective for oc jungkook’s in this fic ugh the wattpad girlies already know that they’re my adopted parents)

10 Seconds ᥫ᭡ by @deepdarkdelights

— yandere jungkook, abduction, stalking, stockholm syndrome.

(this series is my first love, i would do anything to read this for the first time again!)

Penpal 𓍯𓂃 by @laughing-with-god

— yandere prisoner jungkook, stalking, breaking in.

(gotta contact some directors and producers to turn this into a drama! it would slay so hard with its refreshing plot line! and tbh no words are enough to describe her writing abilities, she’s a pro✨)

Risqué ✧˖° by @mercurygguk

— age gap, forbidden romance, smut, angst.

(the time stamps and drabbles are the essence of this fic, the smut is so well written! ALSO THE SEGSUAL TENSION AND OVERALL YEARNING MA’AM!? can someone already turn this into a mini netflix series please!?)

About Time ִ࣪𖤐 by @yoonia

— time travel au, major angst, second chances, smut, fluff.

(if i had the chance to devour a book, i’d eat this one (obviously) it’s one of the best books of my life, i would die to see a live version of this)

I Want You To Stay ʚɞ ⁺˖ by @ahundredtimesover

— ceo jungkook, strangers to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut.

(no slow burn ever slow burned the way this story slow burned! lemme warn ya’ll this fic will keep getting better as you read it!)

Bride Of Devil ♰ 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ by @jasminefanfics

— dark romance, gangster au, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, age gap, kinda yandere husband jungkook.

(my youtube fanfic girlies assemble! this is the best mafia jungkook fic i can recommend for ya’ll! the bgm is so addictive and perfect)

An Abundance Of Luck And A Sprinkle Of Fate 𐙚 by @borathae

— strangers to lovers, romance, found family, smut, angst, healing.

(I remember being unhealthily obsessed with this lord, aaol!kook & oc will forever be my babies TT this book tugs at your heart in a way that’s inexplainable)

ps — have a good read girlies <3

follow for more.

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗨𝗽 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗛𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝘁𝟭

Warnings: None

Hyung Line x Reader. Angst.

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ᗷᗩᑎGᑕᕼᗩᑎ

The dim glow of the studio lights reflected off the stacks of equipment, casting long shadows across the room. You leaned against the doorway, watching Chan furiously click through different tracks on his laptop, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. The clock on the wall ticked past 2 AM, but for him, it seemed like time had no meaning. He’d been working on this track for hours, refusing to take a break even when you’d suggested it earlier. "Chan," you called out softly, but he didn’t respond. The constant hum of the music filled the space, his mind completely absorbed in his work. You sighed, stepping into the room, stifling a yawn. “You need to relax,” you said, a teasing tone slipping into your voice. “You act like the world’s gonna fall apart if you don’t finish this track tonight.” His hands stilled on the keyboard. The playful smile you wore faded when he didn’t respond. You took a step closer, placing a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off, pulling away as if your touch burned him. “I’m serious,” you continued, your voice softer this time. “You’ve been at this for hours. Just take a break. It’s not healthy to push yourself like this.” Chan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back, but instead, he closed his laptop with a slow, deliberate movement. The air in the room seemed to thicken, tension radiating off him in waves. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. You blinked, surprised by the edge in his tone. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to help.” He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with more force than necessary. He still wasn’t looking at you, his gaze fixed on the ground, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You think I don’t know it’s not healthy?" His voice was low but filled with barely restrained frustration. "I don’t have the luxury of taking breaks whenever I feel like it." Your heart sank at the bitterness in his words. You opened your mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished. “Every time I stop, every time I take a moment for myself, I fall behind. I have responsibilities, expectations-” He finally looked up at you, his eyes dark with exhaustion and something deeper, something raw. “I’m the leader. I’m the one holding everything together.” You felt a lump form in your throat as you realized how deeply you’d misunderstood the situation. You had meant your words lightly, but they had triggered something in him - something he had been keeping bottled up for too long. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you whispered, taking a cautious step toward him. He looked tired. Oh so tired. And while you were more than sure people had seen his tiredness, you knew that they weren't aware of even the fraction of exhaustion he was feeling now that you were looking at it from two feet away. “I just…I didn’t realize how much pressure you were under. I mean I was aware, but I didn't think it was to this extent.” Chan let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t realize because I don’t show it. I can’t afford to.” The room was suffocatingly silent, the weight of his confession sinking in. You had never seen him like this- — so vulnerable, so... broken. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I don’t appreciate everything you do,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I know how hard you work, Chan.” He shook his head, his expression distant, as though he were already miles away from you, even while standing right there. “Just... leave me alone,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion as he turned away from you, walking toward the door. “I need to finish this.” You wanted to reach out, to pull him back, but the look in his eyes had warned you against it. There was a wall between you now — one you hadn’t meant to build but had somehow erected with a few careless words. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you standing alone in the empty studio, your heart heavy with regret and a sinking feeling that you’d hurt him far more than you’d ever intended.

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ᗰIᑎᕼO

It had been a long day, and as you and Minho sat together in the living room of your apartment, the remnants of dinner still scattered across the table, you found yourself in one of those easy conversations where words flowed without much thought. You both had been teasing each other, poking fun at small quirks and habits, but then you said something - a single sentence that changed everything. "You can be so cold sometimes, Minho." You laughed. It slipped out so casually, but the moment the words left your mouth, you knew you had made a mistake. The room seemed to freeze, the playful banter dying on your lips as you watched Minho’s expression shift. His face went from light-hearted to something unreadable - his eyes darkening, his smile fading into a thin line. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and the silence in the room grew suffocating. "Cold, huh?" His voice was quiet, almost emotionless, but you could feel the tension building in him, like a storm just waiting to break. He traced his index finger around the mug in front of him. You immediately tried to backtrack. "I didn’t mean it like that. I was just-" But Minho cut you off, standing up abruptly from the couch and turning his back to you. "No, I get it," he said flatly, his shoulders stiff. "You think I’m cold." The way he said it, so detached and hollow, made your stomach twist with guilt. You had known Minho long enough to realize that, behind his sharp exterior, he was someone who felt deeply, even if he didn’t always show it. But now, it seemed like you had confirmed his worst fear - that people only saw the distant, guarded version of him. "Minho, wait," you pleaded, standing up and reaching for him, but he took a step away, avoiding your touch. "Don’t," he said, his voice sharper now. "If that’s how you see me, then fine. I don’t need to hear more." You watched helplessly as he walked toward your bedroom, his posture rigid, shutting himself off from you with every step. The sound of the door closing echoed through the apartment, leaving you standing alone in the living room, your heart sinking with the weight of what had just happened. The thing about Minho was that, while he came across as tough and indifferent to most people, you knew there was a part of him that feared being misunderstood. He was always careful with his emotions, keeping them tightly locked behind that sarcastic, cool demeanor. It was one thing you loved about being with him, that you were one of the only ones who knew him well enough to see behind that exterior. To know and see him so deeply to know his true self; one that he didn't show everyone. But tonight, with one careless comment, you had struck right at the heart of his insecurity. And it hurt you that you did that. Hours passed, and the tension in the air didn’t lift. You tried knocking on the bedroom door, offering a quiet apology, but he never answered. It felt like a wall had sprung up between the two of you, one made of all the sharp edges he used to protect himself from getting hurt. That night, you lay awake, replaying the moment over and over in your mind, each time wishing you could take back the words. You had never seen Minho so distant, and the thought that you had caused it filled you with a gnawing guilt.

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ᑕᕼᗩᑎGᗷIᑎ

It had been a tough day, the kind that leaves you exhausted to the core. Changbin had just gotten back from the studio, a heavy frown weighing down his usually bright expression. You could tell something was off the moment he walked through the door - his usual energy dampened, his movements stiff, almost mechanical.

You had asked him about it, but he shrugged it off with a noncommittal, “Just tired.” Still, you could feel the tension radiating from him.

Later that evening, as you both sat in the living room, watching a movie that neither of you were paying attention to, you tried again to break through the silence. Changbin was scrolling mindlessly on his phone, his jaw clenched.

“You seem really down lately,” you said gently, looking at him from across the couch. “Is everything okay?”

He glanced at you, his expression guarded, but still didn’t say much. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You weren’t convinced. “You don’t seem fine. You’ve been so quiet lately.”

And that’s when you said it - the words you immediately regretted.

“You’re always talking about how hard you work, but maybe you should take a break. Sometimes it’s like you think you have to prove yourself constantly...but you don’t.”

It wasn’t meant to hurt him. You had said it because you cared, because you had watched him work himself to the bone without ever showing any signs of slowing down. But the moment the words left your lips, you saw Changbin’s entire demeanor change.

His fingers tightened around his phone, and his eyes narrowed as he set it down on the coffee table. When he looked at you, his gaze was sharp, defensive.

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, his voice low, though you could hear the edge in it.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I just mean...you don’t have to push yourself so hard all the time.”

His jaw clenched tighter, and suddenly, the air between you felt heavy, charged with something you couldn’t quite grasp. Changbin sat up straighter, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at you.

“You think I’m overcompensating or something?” he asked, his tone colder than you’d ever heard from him. “Like I’m not good enough, so I have to try harder?”

You were stunned by his reaction, your heart starting to race. “No, that’s not what I meant-” You stuttered.

“Then what did you mean?” he interrupted, his voice louder now, almost confrontational. “Because it sounds like you think I’m not doing enough. Like I’m not enough.” You froze at his tone.

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had never seen Changbin like this - defensive, hurt, and shutting you out. He was usually the one with the most confidence, always sure of himself. But now, it was as if you had shattered something inside him, something you didn’t even know was fragile.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said quickly, your voice faltering. “I just- I know how hard you work, and I worry about you.”

Changbin stood up, his movements tense, as if trying to escape the conversation. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room. His frustration was palpable.

“Worry about me?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You have no idea what it’s like. You don’t get it. Everyone expects me to be this - this strong, perfect version of myself. If I stop for even a second, I feel like I’ll fall behind, like I’ll fail.”

You stood up too, reaching out for him, but he took a step back, creating more distance between you. His words cut through you like glass, the raw emotion behind them catching you off guard.

“I never said you were failing, Changbin. I just-"

“You didn’t have to,” he snapped, his voice filled with a bitterness that made your chest ache. “But that’s what it feels like. Like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. And now you’re telling me the same thing. The one person I would think wouldn't tell me that!”

His eyes were dark, filled with frustration and hurt. The walls he had carefully built around himself over the years were crumbling, and you were standing in the wreckage, helpless to fix it.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your lip trembled. “I’m sorry.”

But he wasn’t listening. He turned away from you, his hands gripping the back of a chair, his knuckles white with tension.

“I need to be alone,” he muttered, his voice hollow. “I can’t do this right now.”

You watched him walk away, your heart breaking as the distance between you seemed to grow wider with every step he took. The sound of the bedroom door closing echoed through the apartment, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, your heart heavy with regret.

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ᕼYᑌᑎᒍIᑎ

You hadn’t meant to upset him. The last thing you wanted was to make Hyunjin feel small or inadequate, but somehow, in the middle of a conversation that had started so innocently, you said something you couldn’t take back.

The two of you were sitting at the kitchen table after dinner, an empty bowl of ice cream between you as you talked about the latest art exhibit he’d visited. Hyunjin’s eyes always lit up when he talked about art - it was a passion that fueled him just as much as music. But tonight, something was off.

He had been unusually quiet the whole evening, his usual spark dulled. You had noticed it right away but thought maybe he was just tired. Still, the longer the silence stretched, the more concerned you became.

“Is something bothering you?” you asked gently, reaching out to touch his hand.

Hyunjin sighed, looking down at your intertwined fingers. “I don’t know. It’s just...I’ve been feeling a little off lately.”

You tilted your head, urging him to continue. “Off? How?”

He hesitated, biting his lip before finally answering. “I’ve been feeling like...I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am. Like I’m just pretending to be this perfect version of myself. When I see other people’s work, especially in art, I can’t help but compare myself. I feel like I’ll never be able to reach that level.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, and you wanted to reassure him, to tell him how talented he was. But instead, without thinking, you said, “You don’t have to be perfect all the time. No one expects you to be.”

His expression shifted, his brows furrowing as he looked at you, and you realized too late what you had just implied.

“So...you...think I’m not good enough?” he asked, his voice quieter but laced with hurt.

Your stomach dropped. “No, baby, that’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?” His tone grew sharper, and you could see the cracks forming in the carefully constructed mask he wore. “Because it sounds like you’re saying I’m not living up to everyone’s expectations. Let alone yours.”

“I just meant you’re already enough,” you said quickly, panic rising in your chest. “You don’t need to push yourself so hard.”

But Hyunjin wasn’t hearing you. He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor as he began pacing around the room. His long fingers ran through his hair in frustration.

“Do you know how hard I try?” His voice wavered, a mix of anger and sadness. “Every day, I’m fighting to be better, to live up to the image everyone has of me. People look at me and expect me to be this flawless, beautiful person who has everything figured out. But I don’t! I don’t have it all together.”

You stood up, following him as he paced. “Hyunjin, I know you-”

“Do you?” He turned to face you, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion you couldn’t name. “Because it feels like you think I’m not good enough either. Like I’m just pretending.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. The Hyunjin you knew - the sensitive, artistic soul who poured his heart into everything he did -was unraveling before your eyes, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“That’s not true,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “I think you’re incredible. I just-”

“Then why does it feel like you don’t believe in me?” His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw tears glistening in his eyes. “Why do I feel like I’m constantly failing?”

You were at a loss for words. Every attempt to reassure him seemed to make things worse, and the walls he had put up between you were growing taller by the second.

“I never meant to make you feel like that,” you whispered, your own tears threatening to spill over.

Hyunjin shook his head, his jaw clenched as he tried to hold himself together. “I just...I can’t do this right now. I need space.”

The finality in his voice made your heart break. He turned away from you, heading toward the bedroom, leaving you standing in the kitchen, alone and devastated.

The silence that followed his departure was deafening, and as you stared at the empty space where he had stood, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had just lost him for good.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

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id love to create an acc for angst and fluff imagines of bts and skz but idkkkkkk how to startttttt, its so hard 😭😭😭‼️‼️‼️

Pairing : Dad!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : Chans daughter is not readers child ; Chans ex wife and daughter are shit starters ; drama of course ; angsty ; honestly, poor Chan ; fluffy ending though ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Please write an angsty / fluffy fic about Dad!chan who, after years of not dating, finally decides to get back into dating & when he finally finds someone he doesn't tell reader he has a teenage daughter because he doesn't know how reader would feel about it but when reader finds out they're really upset and avoid him and his daughter reaches out to reader and convinces reader to talk to Chan and make up because she hates seeing her dad upset. A/N : This request is so cute and I'm so happy I get to write it. Of course, it will be super drama because I love when it happens, and with Chans recent bbl messages we know this man loves this kind of shit, so... This is for Chan and Chan stans and we love Chan!

“I got a call from your teacher today, Ella.” Chan said as his daughter walked through the front door. “They said your grades haven’t been the best lately, that you haven’t been focusing in class. Is something wrong? Do you have something going on?” He didn’t want to be the kind of father that always got on his child when their grades were below average, but he also didn’t want his daughter to flunk out. He wanted to see her be successful and happy in life, that’s all he ever wanted. 

“I’ve just been going through some stuff, dad.” Ella mumbled as she kicked her shoes into the corner near the front door and dropped her bags onto the floor. “Mom said she’s been trying to get in touch with you lately. I guess she saw that you’ve been posting about going out on your facebook.” She pulled out the chair across the table from Chan. “Why don’t I get to meet your new girlfriend?” 

Chan rolled his eyes, finally looking up from his phone to look at his daughter. “You’re changing the subject. What I do in my spare time isn’t important. Your grades are. So tell me, what kind of stuff have you been going through that’s been keeping you from being able to focus. Maybe I can help.” 

She huffed loudly, the attitude that he was warned would come along with a teenage daughter was in full force now. “It’s not even important anyway… Don’t you have a date to go on tonight? That’s all you ever talk about anymore. It’s like you don’t even care that mom left…” It was finally making sense to him, but it hurt that she felt that way. He had been kind enough to keep his ex wife’s dirty secrets just that, a secret, so that Ellas view of her mother wouldn’t be warped. He was trying to do the right thing, but it was becoming harder and harder. 

“I do care that your mother left… I was hurt by it for a long time, El. It’s been 8 years, and I think that it’s time that I’ve finally moved on because she isn’t coming back. Your mother has gotten remarried, divorced, and married again in those 8 years and I haven’t been with anyone until just a few months ago. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.” He tried to explain, but he could tell, he could just see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to hear about it. “And, just so you know, I don’t have a date to go on tonight. I was planning on being here to help you with your homework and studying so that I don’t get another call like I had today.” 

///

“Had a late night in the studio, huh?” You said as you walked up behind Chan, your arms draping over his shoulders as he sat in front of his computer in his office. You could tell he was tired, he could barely sit up straight and his eyes wouldn’t stay open for longer than a few seconds. “It’s okay to take a break, bubs. It’s 3racha, not ChrisRacha.” 

He snickered at the little name, finally swiveling his chair around to face you and pulling you down onto his lap. “You sound like everyone else. I don’t like taking breaks, it gives me too much time to think about the time that I’m wasting.” He explained, his voice was groggy and not even laced, but completely filled with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine once I go over your place tonight, we can cuddle up and watch a movie.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin sending a wave of goosebumps all over. 

“They’re repainting all of the apartments, I can’t even go into my own house right now. I’ve been staying with my parents.” You reminded him, although you were sure you had texted him about it and told him about it in the days leading up to the renovation. “We can go over to your place. We’ve been dating for 4 months now and you haven’t even invited me over.” 

There was a reason for that, a reason that you didn’t know of, but he felt it was just better if you didn’t find out. The last thing he wanted was for you to run off because he had a daughter, not just any daughter though, a teenage daughter who was still hung up on the divorce of her parents. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and although Chan had tried to butter her up to the prospect of one day meeting you, she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that he was dating again. “My place is a mess…” He lied, trying to muffle his words in the fabric of your shirt so you wouldn’t pick up on it. “We can go to a hotel if you’d like.” 

“That seems sleezy…” You mumbled, and he felt awful, he truly did. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He absolutely loves his daughter with every ounce of his heart, his entire being, he loved being her father. He loved you too though, you had been the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you, it just didn’t seem fair. “I guess we’ll just wait for my apartment to be ready…” He could feel you trying to pull away, he could tell that you were upset, he didn’t want you to leave like that, so he tightened his arms around you, holding you close to him. 

“You’re not sleezy! I’m sorry I even recommended that, you’re better than that.” He quickly tried to get himself out of the hole that he had dug, it felt like he was clawing his way to the top, and everytime he got halfway out, he’d slip and he’d fall right back to the bottom. “I’ll clean my place, I just want it to be perfect for when you come over. Okay? You deserve the best.” 

The tension slowly left your body, he felt you soften up against him, and for a moment, it felt like he could breathe again. “Okay… Fine. I’ll wait… I just really miss sleeping next to you.” You whispered, and those words made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. He missed sleeping next to you too. “I have to get back to work though… I’ll see you later. Try taking a break though, take a nap or something, that’s what the couch is for.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up, his arms reluctantly loosening around you until you were free to go. “Seriously, get some sleep.” 

///

“Where are you going?” Ella asked from the couch, watching Chan storm to the front door and yank his coat off the hook. “Did you and your girlfriend get into a little fight? Do you have to go kiss and make up now?” The mocking tone in her voice would usually only slightly irritate him, but he was already beyond irritated at the reason he had to leave in the first place. 

“No, it’s your damn mother.” He snapped, pulling his shoes on before grabbing his keys. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold me up, there’s food in the freezer, or you can grab my wallet out of my bag and order yourself something. Try to do some studying while I’m gone, please?” And without another word he was out the front door, slamming it behind him. 

What Chan didn’t know was that he had left his wallet at work on his studio desk, and you had gone into his studio before leaving to see if he was there but only found his wallet. He must have left the building without saying anything to you, and you wondered if maybe he was sick or something had happened back at his place. You were doing the right thing, at least that’s what you felt you were doing. You were just going to take his wallet home to him and check up on him. You didn’t mind that his house might be a little dirty, you completely understood that he was busy, you didn’t expect his house to be immaculate. 

You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to stand in front of his front door, but a chill ran through your body and you had to take a few breaths before even lifting your hand to knock. Once you did, you took a step back, listening to the locks being undone before the door opened. It wasn’t who you expected to see, it wasn’t Chan, it was a girl, she looked younger, at least 15 or 16. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have read the address wrong.” You quickly apologized, bowing your head to the girl before turning away. 

“Who are you looking for?” The girl asked, and what you weren’t aware of was that she had seen Chans wallet in your hand, she knew that you had come to the right address, she was just playing a game that you didn’t know about. You quickly said his name, and she let out a soft hum. “He’s out right now. It’s date night for him and my mom.” You felt your stomach sink, deeper and deeper until it couldn’t go any further. “Is that his wallet? Thank you so much for bringing it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you brought it back. Hopefully he’ll answer his phone so he can pick it up and pay the bill, you know?” 

You nodded slowly, the bile from your stomach rising into your throat. “Y-Yeah… Of course… H-Here you go.” You stammered, your hand shaking as you handed the wallet over to the girl. You knew she wasn’t lying, she looked so much like Chan it was uncanny. Why hadn’t he told you? What was he even doing with you? He had a wife, or at least a girlfriend or fiancee… He had a child… But he was going around with you? It was beginning to add up though… Why he always wanted to go over your house. Why he’d rather go to a hotel than to bring you to his own place. You felt absolutely sick. 

“Have a good night!” The girl chimed cheerfully as you made your way back to your car, the light from inside the house that had illuminated the front yard faded until you were covered in darkness. You were devastated, you were heartbroken… You had never felt more humiliated in your life and all you wanted to do was go crawl underneath a rock and hide there. 

///

The meeting with his ex wife the night before had stressed Chan out beyond belief. He couldn’t believe that after 8 years she wanted to fight for custody of Ella now. Her reasoning behind it would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so damn ridiculous. By the time he had gotten home though, Ella was already in bed and he was so tired from dealing with his ex that he had gone right to bed as well. By morning, Ella had already left for school, so he’d have to wait until he got off work and she got home from school to even talk to her about what her mother had said. 

Now, he was only looking forward to seeing you. You were the only person at this point who could calm him down and bring him some semblance of peace, at least for the short amount of time that he got to be with you. “Hey, lovely.” He called to you when he caught you walking down the hall. Usually you’d smile and wave, you’d even run over to him sometimes if the hall was empty. This time you just shook your head before lowering it and walking right by him. 

It was a shock to say the least, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst, although he couldn’t be 100% sure of what had happened that would cause you to be acting like this. Was it because of the hotel comment the day before? Was it because he wouldn’t let you come over to his house? It couldn’t be that though, he had talked to you about it. It had to be something more, but he couldn’t figure it out. You looked absolutely pissed, like you didn’t want anything to do with him. 

“Y/N!” He called out your name now, jogging down the hall to catch up with you, but you didn’t even look up at him, and you sure as hell didn’t slow down. In fact, it seemed like you sped up, like you were trying to get away from him. “Hey… What… What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” He lowered his voice but quickened his steps to keep up with you, trying to duck down just enough to get a view of your face, but every time he got close enough you’d look away. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Whatever it was that you made me think we had, it’s over. I’d like it if you left me alone now.” You stated flatly, your arms tightening around the multitude of folders that you clutched to your chest. “I’m changing groups, I won’t be one of your staff anymore as well, so please, don’t bother me anymore.” 

Something had happened, and it wasn’t something that could easily be fixed like Chan thought. It was worse, way worse. You had basically fired yourself from being his group's staff because of whatever happened. “Hold on!” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from going any further. “So you’re just… Breaking up with me? You’re not even going to tell me why!?” His voice cracked as it rose in pitch, his chest rising and falling heavily as the panic fully set in. “I fucking love you, Y/N… You can’t just do this to me and not tell me why.” 

When you finally looked up, he could see your eyes were glistening, your bottom lashes bedazzled with twinkling tears that clung onto them. You were just as upset as he was. “Stop pretending, Christopher!” You croaked out, sniffling loudly once the words left your chapped lips. “I refuse to be the rebound chick that you think you can run to when your marriage is on the rocks. I won’t be strung along by you, not anymore.” You took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose yourself before you pulled your arm free of Chans hold. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have another group to meet. I have work to do. I do believe that you have some work to do as well.” You bowed your head to him before turning and walking away, leaving him more confused than he was before. 

His marriage… It had fallen apart years ago when he had come home to find his wife in bed with another man while his daughter was fast asleep in the room across the hall. It had been disgusting, heartbreaking, it would have been his downfall if not for his daughter and the moral, mental, and emotional support of the guys. He wasn’t sure why it was being brought up, he didn’t even know how you had found out, but that same feeling of devastation that he had felt 8 years ago was flooding him once again. 

The guys… They were the only ones who would be able to talk to you, they were the only ones who knew about the secret past that Chan was trying so hard to hide from you. Would they do something like that though? Would they hurt him like that? “Yo! What’s up?” Changbin said as he came up behind Chan, his arm draping over his shoulder. “You’re… crying? What happened?” The cheerful tone was immediately dropped, and even though Changbin was younger, he was in full protection mode. 

“Y/N… She… She broke up with me…. She knows about Sana…” He gasped out the words, each of them getting caught in his throat, it felt like he was choking. “Somebody told her… Someone… They had to have told her! Who!?” He was shouting now, his sadness turning to anger in a matter of seconds. The look of confusion of Changbins face was enough for Chan to know that he had no idea what Chan was talking about, and that in itself proved his innocence. That left 6 more guys to question. 

“Y-You know that none of us would do that to you… Why would we do that? You were happy!” Changbin quickly defended the others as well, seeing in Chans eyes that he was on the warpath and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out who had told you. “I… I do know she went to the studio last night after you left… She… She said something about your wallet but… Maybe she went to your house to drop it off and… and…-” 

“Ella…” Chan muttered out the name, a loud groan leaving him as his head fell back. “I have to go… Will you be okay? Can you run practice for me?” Now he was in a hurry, a hurry to get home, to talk to you… He had so many things he had to do, he didn’t even know where to begin. Changbin nodded his head, patting Chans shoulder before taking a step back. Truthfully, Chan didn’t know what the hell he was going to do… But he knew he had to do something. He wasn’t going to lose you… He couldn’t. 

///

“Sit. Now.” Chan said, not even giving his daughter time to fully come through the door before the words left his mouth. He had been sitting at the table, thinking over and over about how he’d go about bringing it up to her, but now that she was finally home, all of his thoughts had gone out the window and all he could feel was irritation. She rolled her eyes, dropping off her bag and kicking her shoes off like she did every day, heading in the direction of her bedroom. “Did you not hear me? I want to talk to you.” 

“About what?” She snapped, whipping around to face him. “About the lady that showed up on our front porch last night?” Chans eyes widened, he didn’t even have to drag it out of her, she wasn’t a liar… and for that, he was proud, he had at least taught her one good thing. “Did she dump you? Well good… You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to mom…” After… what he did…? He was stunned into silence, his head cocked to the side as he tried to think about what he could have possibly done to make him the bad guy in all of this. “She told me all about it, don’t try to act like you’re so innocent.” 

Those weren’t Ellas words, those were her mothers words and she was speaking them for her. “I tried so hard to protect your mother for some reason… So that you wouldn’t think badly of her… And this is what she does.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. “Can you please sit? I really need to talk to you…” He stretched his legs under the table, pushing out the chair across from him and motioning to it with his head. He could see the reluctance, but she finally made her way over, dropping down into the chair, but not without an eye roll and a look of disgust. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth… I didn’t want you to see your mother as anything less than what she is… But I wasn’t the one who did anything. Your mother is the reason we’re divorced…” 

“You’re a liar… She said that you’d lie…” Ella mumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her father. “Just like you lied to that lady. She didn’t even know I existed! You kept me a secret from her… Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Are you ashamed of me?” The sulky teenage attitude subsided, and he could see that she wasn’t just angry, she was upset. He never meant for it to be like this, he didn’t even think that something like this would happen. It’s not like he planned on keeping his daughter hidden forever… He just didn’t want to spring it all on you at the beginning of the relationship. 

“No! God, no… El… You are an amazing daughter, you’re smart and you’re funny… You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever created. I’m so proud of you…” He whispered, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. He should have told her these things a long time ago, maybe she wouldn’t be acting out, but it was too late, and now all he could do was try to fix things piece by piece. “I didn’t want to bring someone into your life unless I knew that it was serious… It’s one thing for me to be hurt… But I didn’t want you to potentially get close to her just for her to leave and hurt you too.” He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before continuing. “I divorced your mother… Because she cheated on me, Ella. Do you really think I would have gotten custody of you if it were the other way around? The man she married… That’s… That’s the guy… And they’re already divorced… And she’s already married again. She’s been married twice since the divorce, and I… I haven’t been with anyone until a couple months ago. Do you think that would be the case if I was the one who had screwed up?” He could see the gears turning in her mind as she thought about everything that he was saying, and he could see that it was all adding up. “Your mother wanted to meet up with me yesterday because she’s trying to get custody of you…” 

Ellas eyes widened and her head shook fast. “No… I don’t… I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live with her, dad.” The words were rushed out, full fledged panic written across her features. “Don’t let her take me… I want to stay with you… I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told the lady that you were having date night with mom. I’m sorry that I ruined it… I’m sorry… Please don’t let her take me.” She was crying now, absolutely bawling, and it broke his heart to see his daughter so upset. 

He jumped out of his chair, running around to her side of the table and pulling her up into his arms. Right now, she wasn’t just a teenager with a bit of an attitude problem… She was his little girl, and he was going to protect her and he was going to keep her safe. He was going to fix everything, no matter what it took. “She’s not going to get you, she won’t win. You’re staying here with me… I promise.” 

///

“Have you gotten a hold of her?” Ella asked, dropping down onto the couch beside her father. It had been weeks since the last time he had spoken to you, but he had seen you in the halls at the building every single day. No matter how many times he tried to stop you and explain everything, you’d just keep walking like you didn’t know him at all. Ella could see that it was breaking him, and she knew that it was her fault. “I’m really sorry, dad…” She mumbled. 

Your picture was still his lockscreen, and every time a notification would pop up on his phone he would jump up, a single second of excitement and wishful thinking, only to be let down once he realized it was someone, anyone but you. “It’s okay… I’m gonna try to get some work done. Let me know when you get hungry, I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” And she nodded slowly, waiting for Chan to get up and go into his little office before running to the front door and pulling on her shoes. If he wasn’t able to fix it, maybe she could. 

The walk to the building wasn’t too far, and she knew that, for the most part, whenever her father went into his office it was so he could cry in private. That usually lasted a couple hours, and she was sure that she wouldn’t need too much time. 

Everyone in the building knew her, they had heard so much about Chans daughter that she was looked at as an idol herself. They all welcomed her warmly, but she was on a mission. “Hi! Would you happen to know where an Y/L/N Y/N is? My dad sent me to make sure she got something.” She came up with it quickly, and no one seemed to question it either. They gave her the information just as fast and sent her on her way… It was far too easy… She’d have to talk to her dad about that. 

The ride up the elevator gave her enough time to think about what she would say, or at least a little bit of what she’d say. Truth be told, she was nervous. She wanted things to go well for her fathers sake, but she knew that the trouble she had caused and what she did could have irreversible damage. 

When the doors slid open, it was like fate had brought her here at this exact moment, because you were standing right outside the doors. “Oh… Uhm… I-I remember you…” You murmured, bowing your head to her before taking a step back. “I think you’re on the wrong floor though… Your father is a couple floors down.” 

Ella shook her head, stepping out of the elevator, trying to look like she wasn’t a nervous wreck standing in front of you. “I’m here to talk to you.” She said, her head held high just to exemplify the false feeling of confidence that she was trying to give off. “Are you busy?” 

“I’m very sorry if me being with your father created any problems. I’m not with him anymore though… And, with all due respect… I’m just trying to move on.” 

“That’s the problem though!” Ella blurted out as you moved past her and stepped into the elevator, turning around quickly on her heel to face you, her hand pressed against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Him and my mother aren’t together… They haven’t been together for 8 years. I… I was upset because… I didn’t understand what happened… I didn’t know why my parents weren’t together and… My mom lied and… And I’m sorry. My dad really loves you… And he wanted me to meet you… And he’s been crying every night because I ruined your relationship because I lied just like my mom and I’m… I’m really sorry, ma’am…” 

She was once again crying, and you didn’t really know what to do, but it felt wrong to just stand there and watch her cry, so you hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and gave her the most awkward one armed hug. “It’s… It’s okay…” You murmured, and much to your surprise, she turned her body completely toward you and wrapped her arms around you. Whether there was a maternal bone in your body at all before this moment or not, you immediately felt the urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay, to wipe her tears and tell her that everything would be fine. “Hey… Hey, let’s go to my office. We can get a drink and some tissues and then… I’ll take you home. Is that okay?” 

Ella nodded slowly, her face scrunched up and her bottom lip pushed out. She really did look like her father. “Will you talk to him?” She asked weakly, and as much as you hated him… Now that you knew the truth… It felt like the right thing to do, so you hummed in agreement to her question, leading her down the hall to your little office and pushing the door open for her. “Y-You know… You’re still his main picture on his phone. He’s waiting for you to text him or call him or something… He misses you so much.” 

You were sure that she didn’t mean to tell you so much, and you were very sure that Chan would be incredibly embarrassed if he found out that his daughter was telling you so much. “I’ll talk to him, I promise… Pinky promise.” You held out your hand, your pinky extended to her, and she quickly latched her finger around yours, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. 

“You are really pretty… He wasn’t lying… And you’re really nice too. I would be really mad at me if I were you…” She lowered her head, her entire body slouching forward as she sat in the chair across your desk. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Her voice was below a whisper, her question genuine, and you didn’t really know how to answer it. 

“Well…” You began, your fingers drumming against your lap as you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t blame you for what you did… You’re a child and… And your parents divorced. I’m sure that any child would be upset if they found out either of their parents was dating someone else, especially if the kid doesn’t understand why their parents divorced in the first place. You were protected from the truth… But it made you do something that you regret. It’s still not your fault though, it’s no one's fault.” You reached across your desk, your hand faced up for her, and she slowly placed her hand in yours, the smile from earlier returning to her face, but this time it was just a little bigger and it reached her eyes. “Let’s go see your dad, yeah?” 

///

Chan had at some point cried himself to sleep while sitting in front of his computer, but the sound of a soft knock on the door had him jolting awake. “Dad?” Ellas voice came between the small crack in the door as she peeked inside, and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up from his chair, almost bringing his entire laptop with him since he forgot to take the headphones off. “I ordered dinner for us… It’s here.” She said between little giggles at the way he stumbled. It was nice to hear her laugh, he hadn’t heard it in a bit, not from anyone in the house. He wondered what had changed. 

“You didn’t have to do that, I would have cooked for us…” He said somberly, but he knew that she was doing it as a favor for him. He was a wreck, it was visibly noticeable that he hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was a shell of the man that he once was when he had you, but he knew he had to get better, he wasn’t sure how he would do that, but it wasn’t fair to Ella to constantly be like this, it would only make her feel more guilty. “I’ll be right out… Thank you.” He said when she hovered in the doorway, and he watched her walk away. There was a bounce in her step, she hadn’t been this peppy in a while. He was genuinely curious and now he was rushing out of the little studio room so that he’d be able to sit down and talk to her, maybe he could find out what was going on. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend over.” She said from the kitchen. He was adamant that he had never heard her bring up a friend, especially not one that would come over and visit. Was it a boy? She never mentioned liking anyone at school… Was she too scared to talk to him about those kinds of things? He made a mental note to sit down and talk to her about it one day this week. “Are you coming?” She called out and he hummed in agreement, trudging out of the little room with his head hung just a little. 

This wasn’t the first impression that he wanted one of his daughter's friends to have of him as her father. He wanted to look more respectable for the sake of Ellas reputation. It seemed like he didn’t really have a choice though, she was rushing him to come out, and he didn’t want to keep her and whoever she had over waiting. “I apologize, I wasn’t really told that you’d be coming over.” Chan began as he walked down the hall, and he completely froze when he saw just who his daughter had brought over. 

“I don’t think anyone really knew I was coming over.” You said lightly, the warmest smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t find words, all he could manage to do was open his mouth and croak out sounds as salty tears pricked his eyes. “Is it… okay… that I’m here?” You asked when the silence lasted longer than you thought it would, and he nodded his head fervently, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“It’s… It’s more than okay… I just… I don’t know why… I don’t mind it though.” He rambled, looking between you and Ella who was currently setting the table for three people instead of the usual two. “You’re… staying for dinner?” He questioned, and you gave him that adorable, heart stopping smile that had stopped him in the halls of the building all of those months ago, the smile that had pushed him over the edge and made him fall for you in the beginning. 

“Yes she is.” Ella spoke up, clapping her hands together to get both of your attention. “Do you want me to eat in my room… So the two of you can talk? I’m sure you have a lot to talk about… I can leave you alone if you’d like.” But you shook your head, walking over to the table and playfully ruffling her hair before opening the takeout bag and pulling out the contents. 

“I’d like it a whole lot if you stayed and ate with us… But if you want to eat in your room… If your dad says it’s okay… Then you can.” You sounded so… sweet, the way a mother would talk to her own daughter, and the craziest part was that Ella smiled at you before taking a seat at the table, she actually listened to you… There was no attitude that came alone with it. “Are you just going to stand there and look at the food, or are you going to join us in eating it?” You asked, bringing Chan out of his own thoughts and back into the room. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming…” Chan whispered, walking into the dining room and taking his usual seat, but the aura at the table was a lot different now. It’s like the whole room had gotten 10 times brighter, and no matter which way he looked he was met with a warm smile. He had so many questions, but he knew that he had all the time in the world to ask them, and regardless of the answer… He knew that things would be better now, all of the pieces were falling back into place, and the picture was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it to be. 

~6 Months Later~

“You’re gonna absolutely crush this test, I know you will.” You stood at the stove, preparing breakfast as Ella sat at the table, her face buried in her text book to get as much last minute studying in before she had to go to school. “No matter what, I want you to remember that your dad and I are so proud of you and how hard you work. Okay? We love you.” Ella hummed softly, not even looking up from her book, but you could see that she was smiling, and that was enough of a response for you to know that she had heard you, that she was listening. You carefully placed her plate down beside her, lightly tapping the table to get her attention. “Please eat. Okay?” 

Chan ran out of the bedroom, his eyes barely even opened, his shirt wrinkled and twisted and his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Did she leave yet?!” He asked rather loudly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking a few times before focusing in on his daughter who was looking up at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I wanted to give you a hug before you left.” He pouted, and she quickly got up out of her chair, rushing over to Chan and wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll do great. I-” 

“No more speeches! You guys are going to make me cry!” Ella dramatically whined, pulling away from Chan and running back to the table to pack her things into her bag and then shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could before going to the front door. “Love you! I’ll see you later!” She mumbled with her mouth full of food, and before the two of you could say it back she was out the door. 

Once the door was shut, Chan walked over to you, his arms wrapping around your from behind as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “Hey…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek that was dampened by tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He cooed, gently turning you around to face him, his head cocked to the side. 

“I don’t know… I just… I’ve only been here for six months and… We’ve gotten so close and… She’ll be going off to college soon if that’s what she wants to do… But… I’m gonna miss her and the house is gonna be so empty and…” You pouted up at Chan who couldn’t help but find it adorable the way you were right now. It was the most heartwarming thing, to know that you loved his daughter so much already that you were crying at the thought of her leaving. 

“Well… We have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours… We could watch a movie or something to take your mind off of being sad… Or… We could go have some fun… Surprise Ella with a brother or a sister when she comes home from college…” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, but your feet were already moving in the direction of the bedroom, that all too familiar tingly feeling building in your stomach. “We can watch a movie when we’re done… If you’re not too tired.” 

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ SECRET RELATIONSHIP — BANGCHAN ꒱

— cw. idol!chan x 9thmember!reader , sexting , fluff , both mc and chan are jealous

request: Whenever you have time, could we get Chan and reader being in a secret relationship? It could be text messages if you’d like! 🩵🩵

authors note. i hope you like it 💗!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

©️LUVYENI

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, pt. 1 — JJK (m.)

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

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

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

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

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 20k 😍

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, countless mentions of weddings and engagements, angsty undertones, it’s the… yearning? 97liners assemble lmao, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, explicit sexual content [dry h*mping, making out, c*nnilingus], alcohol consumption, arguments 🤓, i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me 🙏🏼 belated happy birthday jaykay, my forever muse❤️❤️

NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry this got delayed!! gave up on trying to make this a one shot cos it stretched out into 50k words IM SORRY! anyways check out my trello page for updates on my writing progress 🩷 make sure to comment down ur thoughts and like and reblog to circulate hehe !! asks are deeply appreciated!! scream your takes!! let me know what you think!! also made a spotify playlist for this mini-series soooo if u wanna listen to the songs that i think embody this fic, i've linked it below 🫶🏼

[ TLP MOODBOARD ] // [ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ]

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

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

The girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations and a cute little beach wedding to boot. You’re the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. That girl who thought the guy she met at nineteen at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. The girl who thought that her boyfriend at twenty-one would finally be The One after introducing her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. You’re exactly the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.

Reality pretty much hit you hard with a big slap on the face; because you soon found out that your love interest doesn’t suddenly come into your life while you clock in your shift at a coffee shop, and there is no such thing as grand love declarations – no one wanted to profess their love to somebody at airports anymore, or even in the pouring rain, for god’d sake! And there is never going to be a beach wedding when there’s no one to do it with in the first place.

Because even if you do everything right, men just always somehow manage to do you wrong.

Your first boyfriend, Changsub, just suddenly ghosted you after you moved to a different town for college. When you saw him again for winter break, he was dating the girl from his History class – the blondie who was always the cause of your heated arguments in the lockers because you’ve always been jealous of her. Needless to say, you never talked to him again, and Changsub never bothered to reach out either.

At nineteen, you met Soohyun at a frat party your roommate invited you to. He was part of your college’s football team – the regular famous jock, and you felt a little bit special when he showed you a little bit of attention. When he chased you for a while, you caved in and had sex for the first time. You soon realized that was his thing – “popping them girls’ cherries” – as what you’ve overheard from his equally asshole teammates when you made an impromptu visit at their sweaty, stinky locker rooms – and that he apparently had a thing for girls in the cheerleading team (you were a part of it for awhile). Soohyun just told you it wasn’t working anymore. He was out and about with another girl three days later.

You swore at twenty-one, you were smarter. Heck, you got your heart broken two times already by then by the same brand of asshole with two different names and faces! You must’ve been a bit wiser, no?

But in your defense, Jaehyun was totally different from Changsub and Soohyun. He wasn’t an athlete. He was low-key… an introvert, and a total nerd. A film major guy who was so good at getting you through his art. He told you you were his muse, and you believed it wholeheartedly for the almost three years you’ve dated, most especially when he brought you to his hometown that one New Year’s Eve and introduced you to his family on your first anniversary.

You don’t exactly know what happened then… he just ran cold. Backed out of your plans of moving in together. Suddenly got so busy with his gigs when he normally would make time. Until the elephant in the room was acknowledged and it was just over before you knew it.

That relationship was your first “I love you”, Jaehyun said it was the same for him.

Fast forward, he gets married two years into the break-up, which is six years ago from the present. He has three kids now, two lovely girl twins and one boy. You didn’t go to the wedding, just sent him a post-it card that said you’re happy for him.

Which is true. He was your first love, but the heartbreak didn’t last long like you thought it would.

Because lastly, there was Eunwoo. The guy you met during the construction of the condominium near the apartment where you were staying at for med school.

Cha Eunwoo was an intern architect around that time, a nice one at that that it didn’t really take long for you guys to hit it off. Too many encounters on the street made you think that maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence anymore that he was there whenever you walked passed by. You really thought it would be difficult for you to love somebody again like how you loved Jaehyun… but Eunwoo made it easy. He did everything right. From the cute encounter, a grand love declaration in your fourth year together wherein he proposed to you in a romantic cruise ship dinner, down to the beach wedding he promised you during that night.

What was supposed to be a three-month engagement lasted longer than you both wanted, though. And it was mostly due to you because you told him you couldn’t marry yet. Not until you pass your licensure exam. Unintentionally, it stretched into a year. Eunwoo blamed it on your internship, said you were too busy that you couldn’t really give him time anymore.

You still remember that argument so vividly inside your head. When you said you told him already that it was life for you in residency. He rebutted with the sentiment that if you wanted to, you would. But you knew it was unfair of him to say that – not when he was also volunteering himself for the mountain of projects at his firm just so he could impress the senior architects there. Eventually, the engagement was called off. You two broke up. You both settled that it was the schedule conflict… you were just both so busy with your careers. Such big ambitions. So much to prove, passionate to a fault.

But two years ago, Eunwoo got married, and his wife is a general physician. The last time you two accidentally bumped into each other at a café downtown, he said he was “so happy and contented” that he felt like “taking a sabbatical to focus on being a husband”.

You guessed then he doesn’t actually mind dating doctors. Doesn’t mind making sacrifices for them. He just minds specifically you.

Your long, tragic dating history should already stop you by now from believing in love altogether. You mean, it just never works out for you, do they? The universe gives you a taste of what it’s like to embark on that journey, but it never takes you to the final destination.

But what can you say… love is just so special to you; romance, falling in love… they hold a significant place in your heart that you can’t help but bet on it every time it comes. You just have so much love to give – but unfortunately no one to give it to, because the men you date always don’t want you in the end of it all.

It bubbles up frustration in you, especially when you see all your exes getting fucking married left and right and them having the audacity to send you an invitation – and even thank you for what you’ve helped made them become. Eunwoo made that lame ass speech in the café. It’s such a subtle physical act of slapping you right on the bone of your cheeks and violently hurts you psychologically.

You’re frustrated that marriage seem to come easy for them, but never for you.

It’s why you unintentionally spat water out of your mouth when one of your co-residents, close friend, Nayeon, announced:

“Minhyuk proposed!”

Naturally, your other friends at the cafeteria attend to your spluttering, with Doyeon patting your back and asking, “Girl, are you okay?”

You shake your head repeatedly at them, tapping your chest to regulate your breathing, putting on a tight smile before turning to Nayeon.

“I’m sorry— what? Minhyuk proposed?” You ask her, and you don’t intend it to sound incredulous.

Nayeon, thank god, doesn’t notice it. And you realize it’s because she’s in a lovesick haze to care about anything else.

“Yep!” She almost squeals. “You guys are all invited to the engagement party next week on Friday.” She giggles when Doyeon pokes her side, lightheartedly teasing her about the wedding.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” You say, grinning widely, but your jaw hurts from the way you forced it. You look at each one of them; Nayeon, Doyeon, and Taehyung. “You guys are soon gonna be… married.”

Taehyung turns to Doyeon, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Doyeon’s still single, though.”

Doyeon throws a napkin at him. “It’s because your kind are bums. Anyway, Taehyung is also still not married.”

Taehyung pauses. Then, he purses his lips into a thin line, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly.

“Well… about that…”

“He’s planning to propose to Hyerin!” Nayeon exclaims and quickly covers her mouth when some of the doctors in the cafeteria turned their heads to look in your direction. She shrinks herself small, as if realizing what she’s done, and then her eyes widen when she sees your guys reaction. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Taehyung!” Nayeon quickly apologizes to him who looks like heaven and earth fell on him. She scrambles to say, “It’s just that I saw the ring in his locker today and so of course I have to ask and you guys met Hyerin, she’s an amazing woman and I’m so excited for her and Taehyung and she are a good couple aaand… I’m shutting my mouth.” She stops, closing an imaginary zipper over her lips when she notices the death glare Taehyung’s sending her way.

He turns to look at the rest of you.

“Well… you heard it from her.”

“Oh my god, Tae! This is insane!” Doyeon tells him. “When are you proposing?”

Taehyung shakes his head and rubs his nape. “I don’t know… she has this, uh, case that she’s confident on winning this Thursday. Maybe I’m going to do it when she gets home that day…” he trails off, and Nayeon coos at him when she sees his ears turning red. Doyeon throws back the napkin Taehyung threw at him, and she receives a juvenile pinch on the arm from Taehyung back.

You laugh along with them.

But deep inside, you’re finding it hard to process all the information that you learned today. You were just letting out words when you said that they were all going to be married, an exaggeration at best, because Nayeon is apparently now a fiancé, Taehyung has been in a long-term relationship with his prosecutor girlfriend that it’s easy to assume their next step is tying it down, and Doyeon is single but you refuse to believe that’s the case. It’s a wild theory that your friends have but you all feel like she has a secret boyrfriend or something.

Apparently, though, you’re not exaggerating at all. Because Taehyung is indeed planning to tie it down.

“It seems like everybody is getting married these days, no?” Doyeon mentions. She looks at you and you feel your heart beating abnormally for some reason. “What about you, __? How did that blind date last week go?”

She’s talking about the guy whom your cousin set you up with a few months back and have only gotten around to meet a week ago, Park Hyungshik.

They all seem to eagerly wait for your answer, and you can only meekly shake your head, sipping on a juice box so your jittering fingers can have something to do.

“It was okay.”

You can see the way their shoulders deflate, and you know you don’t need to explain the details for them to know how bad the date actually went.

“Fuck men.” Doyeon sighs.

“I agree.” Taehyung affirms, followed by Nayeon.

It earns a laugh from you.

“Fuck off, you guys.” You say, rolling your eyes, knowing they’re blindly judging Hyungshik in unconditional support for you. The joke is appreciated though, as it makes you light up and forget about the sudden grey that washes over your insides at the terrifying thought that maybe you’re never going to be married at this rate.

“You’re laughing right now but I’m still scared that you’ll just put up an IG story of you and Jungkook getting married on a random Sunday.” Nayeon suddenly says which elicits quite a violent reaction from you.

“Fucking gross, Nayeon!” You slap her on her arm and she gives you an ingenuine, “Owe!”

Taehyung laughs and adds in another nonsensical input, “That’s where my grandma and grandpa started, by the way. The line between love and hate is thin, after all.”

Your face contorts into a deeper frown every passing second as they continue to tease you.

“Fuck you, Taehyung. I’ll kill you in your sleep and me and Doyeon will hide the body.” You threaten him with your eyes and when he only laughs more, you make quick work of your hands and snatch out his egg omelet, putting it in your mouth fast enough he doesn’t get the chance to take it back.

“Aw, man! Hyerin cooked that for me!” He whines, going back to his seat, defeated after trying to get back the food from you.

But Nayeon is more concerned about another thing.

“Why is it only you and Doyeon? I can help hide Taehyung’s body, too!” She says, face painted with an expression so solemn as if you betrayed her.

“You made the joke first, you don’t get the privilege.” You cross your arms under your chest.

“I’ll commit perjury for you in court. Doyeon can’t do that ‘cos she still hasn’t told us about her secret boyfriend.” She insists.

Taehyung deadpans. “You guys really do love me a lot here, no?”

“We never pretended to love you, Taehyung,” Doyeon taps his arm, giving him a contrasting look of faux sympathy. “And for the nth time, I do not have a secret boyfriend,” She says dryly, sounding exhausted for having to say it again. And then, she turns to you, “Where is that punk, Jungkook, anyway?”

You scowl at her. “Seriously guys, why do you always look for him from me?”

“It’s just that you always know where he is, babe.” Nayeon says as a matter of fact. “No offense.” She says, looking straight into your eyes. When she sees your eyebrow raising higher, she adds quickly, “And malice!” And then she continues some more, “Even though I personally think you’d be cute together and all but we understand perfectly you both just have this sort of weird relationship where you’re platonic roommates and you’re like best friends but you argue all the time for no reason—”

“Oh my god, shut up, Nayeon.” Doyeon cuts her off before she goes on a spiral again.

“See why it’s only me and Doyeon who gets to hide Taehyung’s body when I kill him? You’re gonna tell the police word for word how exactly I did it.” You tell her, and she pouts at you.

“And we’re back to killing me again.” Taehyung comments, sighing, and you stick your tongue out at him in that juvenile manner, only that Taehyung does the same because he’s an even bigger child than you.

“Kids, stop fighting.” Doyeon warns. “Seriously, where is Jungkook?”

“He told me he has a laparoscopic cholecystectomy.” You say.

“Damn.” Comments Taehyung.

Everybody including you nod in understanding.

It’s always been an inside joke in your friend group that Jungkook and you are gonna end up marrying each other because you’ve known each other for a long time, the closest to each other, live together – and you both are also the ones that can’t keep a relationship.

After your breakup with Eunwoo in the middle of your internship which was four years ago, you took a break from dating for a very long time. It’s only two years ago that you picked up going on casual dates, having quick flings, all that sort of stuff. It’s an occasional thing and they never end up as something more.

It’s why you’re still single up until now, and it’s not even that you want to be so – you prefer to be in a happy, loving relationship, thank you very much – but you yearn for a deeper connection with someone, and every date just doesn’t seem to click. And even though you find a little ugly bitterness when somebody brings up marriage, you would never, ever want to settle down with somebody just ‘cause you feel like you have to.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is a special case. He’s single because he wants to be. He’s single because according to him, the bachelor life has “chosen” him and he can’t do anything about it.

It’s why he goes to this myriads of dates… with those… women. Sleeps around. Never attempted a serious relationship as far as you’ve known him except that one time in your last year of med school when he exclusively dated Min Sora for about a year.

You don’t judge him for the kind of life he lives. He’s just an admittedly good-looking, liberated guy who hooks up with good-looking women who are looking for the same fun as him. When you asked him if they ever do fall, he told you that they always agree prior sex that it’s just going be a one-time thing (two or three or four times if they particularly like each other… or whatever the hell he said).

Despite that, Jungkook is – and always has been your best friend. You met each other in med school and were in the same study group together with Doyeon and Taehyung.

As much as heartbreak is a constant in your life, Jungkook is a frontrunner in it as well because from being in almost all the same classes during med school for four years, you both decided to live in the same apartment unit together.

It has two different bedrooms, of course. The apartment’s a big unit he and Taehyung owned three years ago until Taehyung moved in with his girlfriend. Jungkook couldn’t pay for it all by himself, and the only logical roommate choice was you because when he proposed it to Doyeon, she just looked at him disgusted beyond belief.

You’ve been with each other for so long it’s quite impossible to not know the other like the back of their hand. You’ve seen him during his worst in med school days up until the years of your residency as does him you. You both shared the highs and lows of life with the other’s presence, and as much as you both quite differ in the way you approach certain things in life – he’s ultimately your person, the one-call-away friend (or the one-knock-to-the-door-friend), and the guy you can always lean on when things are just particularly hard to bear.

Jungkook may not be the most ideal when it comes to romance, but he’s the guy you’d certainly wish was your friend.

Why you don’t understand when the rest of your friends tease you both is because you’re so… platonic with each other. Sure, you’re closest – you knew each other first – but you and Jungkook never acted borderline sweet for other people to be making assumptions. You aren’t the kind of friends who call each other siblings but then get weirdly clingy towards each other behind everyone’s backs.

You may have had a tiny bit of crush on him when you first saw him during first year of med school – it’s a common fact that he’s handsome and whatever, okay – but he had never shown interest; from post grad all throughout the years of your shared residency. You never, either.

But maybe it’s the teasing, since you always fight like goddamn children whenever you’re near each other. There’s nothing romantic about it, though, you don’t think so. In your defense, that’s how your dynamic works! That’s how your friendship with everybody works! If you didn’t banter with a person, you probably hate them.

Shaking the thoughts of Jungkook in your head, you continue to eat your lunch, asking questions about Nayeon’s further plans, squeezing your break with the rest of your friends, knowing your pager is going to beep anytime soon.

What Doyeon said, though, everybody does seem to be getting married these days. If you could sigh, you would, but you have to do with a little bit of internal mulling for now lest one of the gang notices and you get interrogated for it. You don’t want to get aired out for feeling suddenly weird at the tough realization that again, everybody seems to be getting married and proposed to except… you.

You’re happy for them – you really are! You’d be such a shit friend if you weren’t. But there’s a pang in your chest and you know exactly where it’s coming from.

There was an added case to the OR schedule when you checked it earlier this morning, and you were assigned to it as per instruction from the chief of your team – a melanoma excision.

After your lunch, you went to scrub in for the surgery and it was what made you busy including the paper works needed to be done, so busy that you thought you’d forgotten the pain from a while ago.

Turns out, it sat at some bench at the far end of your heart, hiding and shrinking itself for a little while, only showing up when it’s time for you to clock out; in the quiet of the locker room, alone while you change out of your scrubs.

You let out a heavy sigh and lean your forehead to your locker door, closing your eyes and getting your breathing even.

You’re just tired from work. You tell yourself. You had two surgeries today; it would be true. But you know it’s not entirely that. It’s the reminder of your loneliness when you see an envelope peeking out from your locker.

You take out the invitation card for Nayeon’s engagement party she’s given you this afternoon. It’s a thick off-white material that has her and her fiancé’s name printed on gold beveled font. So intricate to the touch; you deduce once you run your fingers over it.

“Yo, what are you up to?”

You quickly stand up straight and hide the envelope behind your back, your other hand going right above your chest when you turn around only to see Jeon Jungkook approaching the inside of the room.

“Jesus christ, learn to knock.” You say, genuinely surprised and taken aback. Jungkook cocks a brow at you.

“Feisty.” He muses, and the way his eyes fall to your chest makes you realize you’re still in your bra having not put yourself into a clean and fresh top yet since you decided to have a sentimental moment in your locker door like some high school girl.

“Asshole.” You mutter under your breath, making quick work of putting on a shirt.

Only when you’re done wearing it do you see Jungkook stripping out of his own scrubs until he’s left with only his boxers across from you.

“Some decorum, please?” You tell him, turning around to sit on a bench to change out of your sneakers and wearing a more comfortable pair of sandals.

You hear Jungkook laugh behind you.

“What can I say? I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, you see.” You take a quick look at him so he can see how far your eyes roll to the back of your head. Jungkook ignores that, wearing his shirt while he says, “You’re out the same time tonight?”

You take out your ponytail and comb your hair through your fingers to fix it.

“Yeah. You?”

Jungkook smirks and suddenly there’s something flying at your direction. You’re quick on your reflex and manage to catch it on time, only to realize it’s his keys.

“You’re driving.”

It earns an instant groan from you.

Jungkook puts on another pair of shoes while laughing. “What? I drove us here this morning.”

You’re about to give him an attitude but then you realize making him pity you may be more effective. Stepping closer to him, you sit on the bench where he placed his foot to tie his shoes on. You look up at him and try your puppy face on.

“But I had two surgeries today, Kook.”

Jungkook stares at you, his expression unreadable. A few seconds pass by, with you blink up at him, and you think he’s gonna cave.

Instead of getting swayed by your poor attempt to get his sympathy, he takes down his leg and says with a sarcastic smile on his face, “I did a major one. Yours were both minor.”

Your shoulders deflate, making sure to jab at his thigh that was at eye level and snark, “And two is more than one. Fuck off, Jeon.”

Jungkook follows behind you while his boisterous ass is laughing.

“Don’t get pissed at me, are you kidding? It’s your turn to drive. Favor for a favor.”

You turn back to him, and because you were walking in a faster pace, he crashes to your back. He grips your shoulder, pursing his lips into a thin line, obviously holding in another fit of laughter.

“You’re gonna drive us tomorrow here, do you understand?” You say, giving him an ominous glare.

Jungkook raises his hands up. “Okay, okay.” He nods his head, and to piss you off more, he adds, “Bossy.”

That earns him a pinch to the side which he quickly dodges. Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and continue to head towards the exit.

You both enter his car soon after.

“I miss my car…” you longingly say, turning on the ignition to start driving.

“It’s still in the shop?” Jungkook asks while rummaging around his compartment glove to look for a snack. He always has a few in it. It’s convenient.

“Yeah, the mechanic told me it’s gonna take a few more weeks. So,” you look at him bitterly.

“That’s tough.” Jungkook comments, opening a granola bar and biting on it. He extends his hand to you. “You want some?”

You stretch your neck to the side, eyes still on the road while taking a bite off his food.

“Tough because you can’t bring your girls here anymore?” You joke a little. Jungkook gives you a dirty look. Your eyes widen a little, realizing what you just said. “Please say you don’t fuck in your car. I’ve touched your passenger seat and your backseat.”

“Give me more credit, yeah? I don’t fuck in my car, that shit is unhygienic as hell,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and you heave a sigh of relief upon his confirmation. “I wine and dine my women before we do the deed, thank you very much.”

“You’re just so sweet, aren’t you?” You say with a straight face.

Jungkook sing-songs. “Just like how they like it.”

“You’re really beating them off with a stick these past few years, huh?”

“A gorgeous stick, might I add.”

That earns a disgusted groan from you, which he laughs at, and you drop the subject before it even goes to another place.

There’s a comfortable silence that sits on the air for a while until Jungkook speaks.

“Hey, what was that earlier?”

“Hm?”

“In the locker room.” He says.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Clearing your throat, you answer, “Oh, it’s just, uh… Nayeon’s getting married. Do you know that?”

“Yeah.”

You turn to him in surprise. “Wait, how? You didn’t eat lunch with us.”

Jungkook snorts. “I saw the invitation cards in her locker yesterday, she thought she was being discreet. She threatened me to keep it a secret when I asked her about it, though. I guess she told you guys today at lunch?”

“Oh my god, you really need to stop snooping in everybody’s locker.”

“I do not snoop in in everybody’s locker.”

You give him a certain look. Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

Letting out a heavy breath, you look straight ahead as you say, “I don’t know. I wasn’t doing anything…”

“Just getting a little sentimental in the locker room?”

“A bit.” You purse your lips. “But it’s not a big deal.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. From your peripheral vision, you can see him staring at you but you choose to ignore that, focusing on driving instead.

“If you say so.” He says after a while.

You’re thankful for the dismissal. Jungkook’s usually insistent that you tell him everything – he’s just nosy like that – but deep down you know it’s because he cares. And if you’re in any trouble, he’s always willing to be there for you may it be listening to you vent or eat unholy amount of Chinese take out in the middle of the night.

As you went on the road, he played a few of his playlists and they served as background noise as you both talked about your day, like how your surgeries went. It’s a usual drive when you’re both in the same car together – which you’ve done quite a few times now because after all, you work in the same building and gas is expensive. It’s the most logical way to save up in this economy.

These past few weeks, though, it just so happened that your car got a little bitchy and started to act up so you made a bargain with Jungkook.

Anyway, you both arrive at your apartment shortly, with Jungkook and you taking turns in the shower.

“You wanna order in something?” Says Jungkook who’s currently drying his hair, a towel wrapped around his lower half.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’s some kind of exhibitionist. Jungkook has the habit of walking around the apartment shirtless and sometimes with just even his boxers on, and it’s not like you aren’t used to seeing it! You admittedly see a lot of it when you guys would change in the locker rooms back at the hospital, but that is work, and you have more things to worry about at work other than your co-worker changing in front of you.

Still, it’s hard to get used to his exhibitionist tendencies. You had a hard time with it especially in the first few months of living together, but you had to adapt, and right now, even though you can say you’re partly immune to it, his naked upper half still bothers you. A little.

Listen, you’re a human being with primal instincts and men who have good bodies do, in fact, distract you a tiny bit.

“Nope.” You take a sip of the glass of water, closing the refrigerator with your foot, looking at Jungkook who groans at your answer. “What?”

“I was hoping we could split the delivery fee.” He deadpans.

“Wow. And they say chivalry is dead.”

Jungkook laughs while you head towards your room. He follows you until you reach your door so you turn to him, putting your hand on your hip as you ask, “What?”

“Don’t think too much about it.”

Your furrow your brows. “How do you mean?”

“The wedding,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “And weddings, in general. I know you’re thinking about a few things up in that smart brain of yours. Don’t.”

You’re completely taken aback by his words, but at the same time, you’re not at all that surprised. Jungkook can read you almost like an open book.

Still, you decide to lie.

“I’m not thinking about weddings, weirdo.”

“Liar,” Jungkook’s brow arches, and you know he’s figured out your shit. “Your nostrils flared up. You’re lying.”

You groan, giving him a light jab at his bicep. Jungkook chuckles.

“My nostrils do not flare up.”

“It does so,” Jungkook points out. “Like this.” He stands there on your door and start to purposefully enlarge his nostrils to imitate you.

You roll your eyes. “My face is not like that when I lie. Go back to your room,” you say, pushing him slightly out of your doorway, ready to close it in front of his face, but you add more, “And don’t bother me.”

Jungkook stands up straight and gives you a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” he says in a register octave lower, walking away with laughter as you tell him he’s annoying. You roll your eyes once again before finally closing your bedroom door.

A lot of people may judge your love for romance as naivety, but you really couldn’t care less. Even if you get heart broken countless times, love will never fail to make your heart soft and make you feel like you’re floating.

It’s exactly what you think as you look at Nayeon and her fiance, Minhyuk, on the stage huddled so close together, laughing and giggling to each other. They look so incredibly happy. So connected. So sweet. It brings a feeling of warmth to your heart – to see one of the most important people in your life finally meeting the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. It makes you melt on the inside to see two people so deeply in love that it emanates in the whole venue of the garden their engagement party is being held at today.

The weather is sunny – not too hot, like the universe knows not to fuck it up for Nayeon and her fiance. There’s also a lot of people; their families, some of Nayeon’s friends and probably Minhyuk’s – people you’ve never seen before. You assume it’s Minhyuk’s friends or acquaintances. The guest list for their wedding must be big, but it isn’t surprising, given that Minhyuk comes from the big corporate world.

“You want more champagne?” Jungkook whispers beside you, ready to stand up from his seat.

You stare at him, and you notice his eyes are not even on yours. He has it glued towards a woman across from you. A pretty woman wearing a satin dress that shows off her slender figure. You notice Jungkook’s been looking at her since the beginning of the party.

Shaking your head, you scoff. “You’re just gonna pick up some woman.”

Jungkook sputters and quickly take his gaze off the woman. “No, I’m not. I just think she’s familiar.”

You raise your brow. “Let me guess… one of your hook-ups?”

Jungkook huffs. And then off he goes.

Everybody has their plus-ones except you two, and now that Jungkook is probably off his mission to find a hook-up for the night, you’re left alone as usual.

You don’t feel bad about it. The champagne is good and there’s hors d'oeuvre on the table.

“Miss?”

You look up, finding the owner of the voice.

And holy hell.

“Hi.” You greet reluctantly, not sure if he meant you. You’re also trying to contain a blush from spreading across your cheeks because goddamn, was the man beautiful.

He smiles. Wow. Whoever this is… he looks pretty damn good.

“Is this seat taken?” The stranger says, pointing to the now empty seat beside you. You look around but can’t really spot Jungkook.

So, you shake your head, gesturing to the chair beside you. “No, not really. You want to sit here?”

He nods. “Alone?”

“No, not really… but I’m Nayeon’s friend. I’m her co-resident at the hospital.” You smile, taking a sip of your champagne that’s already about to run out. “Are you one of Minhyuk’s friends?”

“You guessed right. Law school friends. Worked at the same firm when he was a practicing lawyer until he quit some time ago,” You nod at that, and he gives you a boyish smile again. He offers his hand for a handshake. “I’m Mingyu, by the way. Kim Mingyu.”

You take his hand.

“I’m ___.” You both laugh when you shake your hands together.

His hands feel rough but at the same time warm. It’s nice.

“You’re a doctor?” Mingyu asks, keeping up the conversation.

“Yeah. A resident surgeon.” You glance at him. “I’m assuming you’re a lawyer?”

Mingyu nods. “Yeah. Corporate.”

“I see.” You nod, looking in front of you again, trying to stray from any eye contact. He’s way too attractive for your own liking.

“Say… I hate to make this about work but I just need to ask real quick,” Mingyu says, and when you look at him, you furrow your brows at the worry in his eyes, suddenly growing nervous at the depth of seriousness it’s showing. “So, I got here, and I suddenly have this sort of… feeling of heart palpitation. Increased heart rate. It’s like it’s missing a beat and it’s been making me real nervous.”

“Oh,” you look at him in concern. “That’s— did you drink uh… coffee?” He shakes his head. You place your champagne glass on the table and turn your body to him so you can face him properly. You don’t know if it’s just the doctor in you, but you forget about pretty much everything when you see or hear someone feeling under normal. “Are you a smoker, then?” You continue your line of questioning.

“I quit years ago.”

“I see… okay, uhm…” You look around, trying to look for something. “There’s a lot of roots for heart palpitations. Does your heart feel like pounding right now? Flip-flopping or something like that?”

Mingyu nods.

“Okay… well I can’t say for sure – I wish I have stethoscope with me right now. But I’m gonna lay out all the possible reasons why you might be feeling so. Smoking’s out of the question. You didn’t drink coffee, but do you drink more than one cup in a day?”

“Not in the past few weeks, no.”

“So, you’re not overcaffeinated, then. I really don’t want to lay this out on you, but you might want to check in with your doctor if this is not your first time feeling this. Heart palpitations is normal most of the time but I’ve seen lots of people get in these situations and it ends up being arrhythmia, which is a really serious condition.” You look at him straight in the eyes.

Mingyu looks stricken back. “Well… are there any more reasons out there that’s not… as dangerous?”

You still in your position.

Oh, right. There is more.

“Are you feeling certain emotions right now? Like, really, strong emotion?” You say, internally face-palming yourself because how can you not remember one of the very basic roots of palpitation!

“Yes, I am.”

“Well… certain emotions do trigger your heartbeat to accelerate. It might be anxiety… fear, panic, stress…” You look at Mingyu, noticing that his once serious face is now forming a smile. That makes you back-track, but you hesitantly continue. “... infatuation.”

And then he says, “I think you’re right off the bat with that one.”

Your lips part slightly. A few seconds passed and then suddenly, what he’s doing registers in your head, and you can’t help but to let out a laugh.

“Oh my god,” You say in disbelief. “You weren’t– you weren’t actually asking for medical advice?”

“Bad way to flirt with a pretty woman, huh?” Mingyu smiles and it’s so dashing that you shy away from his gaze, but you’re still laughing at the turn of events.

“God, no. I can’t believe I didn’t get it earlier.” You say, gingerly placing a palm on your forehead at the embarrassment.

But Mingyu just laughs along with you.

“It was just bad flirting. I’m sorry,” He says, sipping from his glass and takes a glance at you. “I can do better.”

You arch your brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. If you let me. Say, Friday, ten o’clock?”

You chuckle. “That was really smooth.”

Mingyu was about to say something when suddenly, you hear a familiar voice approaching your direction.

“Mingyu?” When you look up, you see Jungkook. You eye him in confusion, wondering how the hell he knew Mingyu’s name.

But then Mingyu speaks and you grow even more confused.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“Oh hey, it’s you,” Jungkook says, and he looks genuinely surprised. Mingyu stands up from his seat to give Jungkook a hug, slapping him on the back – kind of like how guys usually greet each other. You watch as Jungkook reluctantly reciprocates it.

“You work with Nayeon?” Mingyu asks, and even with a smile on his face, you can see he’s also in disbelief to be seeing Jungkook.

Jungkook nods at him, still looking a bit stricken. You can’t figure out if it’s just his surprised face or something else. You’ve never seen him look so… stunned like this before. Nevertheless, he says, “Yeah. How ‘bout you?”

“Been with Lee and Song for the past three years, Minhyuk’s previous firm before he quit and went out to the business world.” Mingyu chuckles, tapping Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook smiles. “That’s crazy, man. I can’t believe we’ll meet here again.”

Mingyu, seemingly sharing the same sentiment, says, “Man, it’s been, like, what– almost ten years?”

“Yeah, yeah, too long, man.” Jungkook nods, chuckling slightly.

You hate to interrupt, but you’re confused, and you need to confirm something.

“Wait,” You butt in, making them both look at you. “You know each other?”

Jungkook sits across from you while Mingyu follows.

“We did pre-med together during undergrad.” Mingyu says.

“You did pre-med in undergrad?” You look at Mingyu incredulously, and he nods with a bashful smile on his face. You squint your eyes at him, feeling slightly betrayed that he asked you all that stuff earlier when the whole while he has a pre-med degree.

Jungkook cuts in.

“How the hell do you two know each other?” He said, leaning back and pointing between you two. It seems like he’s finally out of the trance he was in earlier.

“I just met him today.” You tell Jungkook, blinking your eyes at him.

“Well, how about you two? How do you know each other?” Mingyu asks and the whole thing suddenly feels like watching a game of tennis somehow.

You’re about to answer when Jungkook beats you to it.

“We’re co-workers. Together with Nayeon.”

Mingyu nods his head and then turns to you, “So not his girlfriend, then?”

“What? No!” you didn’t mean for it to come out that violently, so you repeat it in a gentler manner this time. “I mean no. What?”

Mingyu turns to Jungkook who’s now looking confused.

“I was just asking her out for a date.”

You suddenly feel blood rushing to your cheeks at his straightforwardness. In front of Jungkook, out of all people! You aren’t embarrassed! You just feel weird and shy.

But Jungkook looks at you as if silently asking you if Mingyu’s being serious. You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.

Then he nods his head slowly. “Really?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at you. “What’d you say?”

Mingyu looks at you with a hopeful smile. “What do you say?”

You feel weird about doing the whole thing in front of someone, but you look at Mingyu again – how attractive he is, his charming smile, his physique, and his charisma… and you don’t think it’d be too bad to chance at least one date with him.

So, you nod, avoiding Jungkook’s sudden way too intense gaze.

“I would like to,” But he cocks his head to the side. You chuckle, adding, “Yes, Mingyu. I’d like to go out with you.”

“Woah!”

“Jungkook, please knock!”

You look at Jungkook irritably while you lock your stud earring, standing up from your chair in front of the vanity table to pick up your purse from the edge of your bed.

“I was just going to borrow your hair dryer.” Jungkook says, trudging inside your room freely which makes you roll your eyes at him.

You watch as he expertly makes his way to your vanity table and slides one of the drawers, taking out the hair dryer.

“You need to buy your own one.” You say with a straight face.

But Jungkook just stands there for a while, and when his stare goes on longer than necessary, you start feeling conscious.

“What.”

“What are you so… dolled up for?”

You jab him on the chest when you get near him, enough to make him wince. “What an asshole way to say I look good.”

Jungkook laughs. Your heart drops.

Most of the time, you understand that your dynamic consists of teasing and bantering with each other until one of you gets pissed off. That’s usually you. But they never go too far – you’ve built a foundation of respect in your relationship which you love. However, sometimes, there are moments when you’re under a certain kind of pressure – like right now in which you only have twenty minutes before Mingyu arrives to pick you up outside of your building complex and you still haven’t done your hair – and Jungkook laughing while looking at you is not helping.

The faux confidence falls as fast as that.

“Okay, Jungkook, can you just tell me nicely if this dress looks ridiculous or if I put too much make-up on?” You say, failing not to sound defensive.

Jungkook’s quick to halt his laughter, and he looks taken aback at your clipped tone.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You were laughing at me.” You point out, turning around to rummage through your make-up products scattered on the top surface of the furniture, thinking that maybe you overblushed. So, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Jungkook situates himself on your vanity table so you’ll look at him.

“Wha— you thought I was laughing at you?” You don’t answer, checking if your cheeks are way too pink, purposefully ignoring him. “Okay, that’s– I wasn’t. I’m sorry if you thought I was. I laughed at your words, not the way you look.”

You let out a sharp breath, look at him angrily, ready to present more argument, but you see the look of sincerity on his face and you realize then that you’re being borderline sensitive.

You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Jungkook places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You pout at him. “It’s just… first date jitters. I feel slightly anxious, I don’t know,” You sigh again, “I bought this dress two days ago.” You say, looking down at it. It has a tube top with thin straps, fitting your upper half like a glove but flows prettily to the bottom, stopping just about four inches above your knee.

“It looks good on you.” Jungkook comments, and you quint your eyes at him.

“You swear?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie?”

“To make me feel better, I don’t know,” Then you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway, does my make-up look okay? I didn’t put too much blush?”

“You have lipstick on your teeth,” Jungkook says, baring his own to emphasize what he meant.

“Shit.” You panic, quickly ducking down to check it in the mirror.

You soon realize Jungkook was fucking with you when you hear him laughing beside you.

“I hate you.” You hiss, pushing his thighs so he can get off your vanity table. He remains on his seat, fighting your force while laughing. “Ugh, don’t you have a date of your own or something?” You groan as you take the hair straightener on the side, sitting back down again on the chair to straighten a certain part of your hair again so it’s looks nothing but perfect.

“Ohh, so you are going on a date.” Jungkook says as if he wasn’t there in front of you when Mingyu asked you out.

You give him a weird look. “With Mingyu, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He’s quiet for awhile, and then, “You’re really dating him?”

You put down the hair straightener.

“Yeah… why?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nothing.”

But you want to insist. “He’s your friend. You told me he’s a nice guy.”

He nods his head. “That’s true.”

You eye him suspiciously. “You’re making me nervous.”

Jungkook chuckles and pats your head. You scowl at him and slap his wrist.

“You’re like a cat,” Jungkook comments. “Anyway, I told you, it’s nothing. It’s just…” He trails off. You look at him, waiting for his continuation.

You don’t expect the genuine smile he sends your way.

“I wish it works out for you this time.”

Lips parted, you think about what to say to that, but nothing comes out of your mouth.

Jungkook gets off the table and brings with him your blow dryer. Before he heads out completely, he tells you, “And don’t worry about how you look. Mingyu likes pretty women. You’re exactly his type.”

“Really, mini-golf?” You ask Mingyu, but he already has his fingers intertwined with you as you both enter the course.

You’ve just had dinner at some fancy restaurant that served, admittedly, good steak. He told you it was some sort of special place for him; where he takes himself to whenever he closes a deal or wins a case. You tried not to think too much about what it meant that he brought you there – given that you’re only on your first date.

But hey, maybe he thought you deserve to eat good steak? That’s probably what it was.

You don’t ask.

You thought the night was over when you finished your meal and good two glasses of Malbec, but Mingyu commented in his car that he’d love to burn off the food for a moment – and you didn’t really want to leave just yet.

So, you end up at Pier 26, and Mingyu’s enthusiastic.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He says, and you have no choice but to follow behind him.

“I really don’t know how.” You tell him, smile bashful as you watch him carry the golf club, walking towards the direction of the ball. 

“What’s up with that? I’ll teach you,” Mingyu says, putting down the club and unbuttoning his cuff to push his sleeves up to his forearms.

You try not to focus too much on the veins that show up at the action and how his biceps are almost fighting to pop out of his sleeves. His hands look so big compared to yours when he offers it to get you to stand beside him.

“Really? You’re gonna teach me like a big… macho man?” You tease, taking his hand nonetheless.

Mingyu smiles once you’re beside him, placing himself behind you, guiding your hands so you can hold the club together.

You can feel his breath on your neck as he instructs you what to do. “You just have to stand like this,” He lets go of your hands in favour of your hips, and your breath hitches when he whispers, “Look ahead, and you just… let go.”

The golf ball jumps out of the line and you giggle at the way it completely misses the hole.

“That was… wow.” Mingyu says, staring at the ball.

“Shut up! Okay, okay, I’ll try it alone.” You say, dismissing his incredulous look, a bit embarrassed at your performance.

From your periphery, you see Mingyu closely watching you as you grip the golf club a little less tight this time so it’s not too tense when you hit the ball. Squinting your eyes, you eye the goal and let out a controlled breath. You relax your posture just like he taught you and when you finally hit the ball, it lands right in the hole perfectly.

You turn to look at Mingyu immediately with widened eyes, and when he gives you a huge grin, you do a little jump out of excitement.

“Oh my god, I did that!”

Mingyu chuckles at your enthusiasm. And due to the high of hitting the goal once, you agree to another round until it turns into a session.

You only stopped when you got tired. Nonetheless, you realize it’s actually something you’re good at, and that geeks you inside. Meanwhile, Mingyu suggested you walk around the park for a little while.

Mingyu told you he was just going to buy some food at a stall, but as you sit on the bench to wait for him, you think about how you’d like to go with Jungkook here some time to challenge him to mini-golf. You almost always never beat him to any games… surely, he must not know mini-golf, right? You can finally have the upper hand, if ever.

“Ice cream?” Mingyu returns from the stall and extends the cone to you. You try not to show your wince. You’re lactose intolerant.

“Thanks.” You say, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. It’s not that bad, and you want this date to be perfect. Mingyu joins you on the bench.

The night’s cold and you regret not bringing your blazer with you and leaving it in his car instead.

“You know,” you start to strike up a conversation. “I’m still pretty shocked you studied pre-med.”

Mingyu chuckles. “Why?”

“I don’t know… but in hindsight, I should’ve known the moment you asked me about “heart palpitations”.” You say, quoting the last two words, trying to tease him.

“I really thought that was a good idea, huh?”

You snort. “It was–” you gesture with your hand, pursing your lips. “Pretty lame, yeah. But admittedly… it was cute. So, there.”

Mingyu laughs. “Thanks. I also thought that was a brilliant way to flirt with a doctor.”

You shake your head, laughing at him.

Silence sits in the air for a while until he speaks.

“You know what they say? Study law when you don’t know what to do after getting a degree, so law it was.” Mingyu shrugs.

“You didn’t see yourself as a doctor then?” You ask curiously.

“Not really. Didn’t really think too much about it when I chose a pre-med program as my major. Soon realized it wasn’t for me. I was lost in law school too for a good couple of years, though. But I love it now,” Mingyu looks at you who’s intently listening. “You? You always wanted to be a doctor?”

You look ahead, nodding. “For as long as I can remember.”

“Just like Jungkook, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “He really wanted it a lot. I remember him excelling during those moving tests. He had a lot of people getting jealous over him for balancing his school and basketball lives so well, you know?”

You furrow your brows. “He did basketball?”

“Yeah. We were in the varsity team together.”

“Hah.” You smile. Jungkook. A jock. “That makes sense.”

“That I’m a jock?” Mingyu asks with a teasing smile on his face.

You didn’t mean him, but regardless, you nod, finding that it also applies to him. “You look like someone who plays basketball.”

“And what’s the diagnosis of that, doctor?” Mingyu leans closer.

You nibble on your bottom lip.

“Let’s say you have a… chronic jock face.” You say, not backing down from Mingyu’s sudden challenge of eye contact.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Is that a good thing?”

You chuckle. “It just means that you are conventionally attractive.”

“Ah,” he nods, but you notice his hand making its way around your waist. You don’t make a move to protest it. “Then, can a conventionally attractive guy like me chance a kiss with a pretty girl like you?”

Your breath hitch when he leans his face closer. One more inch and his lips will lock against yours.

“Yeah.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste a second longer and leans in to plant his lips on yours. It’s nothing short of a peck when he breaks away from the contact, but when you look up at him with parted lips, he goes back to kissing you again, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him better, this time taking you closer by your waist.

It starts off as something experimental, like he’s testing the waters first. But when you take out your tongue to prod the side of his mouth, he does the same and inserts his tongue in yours.

You did not really think that you’d end up making out of some bench at a park, but here you are.

“Oh,” you unintentionally let out a low moan, and you hear a guttural sound coming out from his throat. Your hands come up to fist his collar as some sort of support, and Mingyu responds with a slight pinch to your hip.

You break away from the kiss to regain your breathing, and Mingyu takes that as an opportunity to plant kisses across your cheek down to your jaw. Sighing at the sensation, you close your eyes as you let yourself get drowned in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.

But when you open your eyes, you see people walking by at a short distance and that’s when you wake up from your trance.

“Mingyu,” You call him, but he’s too busy kissing your neck. “Hey, I think we shouldn’t do this here.”

Mingyu stops. Then, he looks at you, eyes hooded, hair a mess, his lips swollen, some of your lipstick getting on it.

Your blood flows to your cheek at the sight. He looks unbelievably hot. God, what more if he was under you and you were doing more than just kissing and– no, no. Not going there. Absolutely no thoughts of … there.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Mingyu says after seemingly snapping himself out of the trance as well. “Shit. I really am.”

He looks so apologetic, so you put your hand over his arm.

“It’s fine. Just uh… let’s take it slow?” You tell him.

Mingyu gives you a small smile.

“Slow. Yeah. Let’s do it slow.”

What's the definition of slow, anyway?

The tension at the park was too much and you made out some more in his car with heavy petting that may have included Mingyu copping a feel of your boob and you coyishly feeling out the bulge in his pants.

Safe to say, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

You started coming over to his place, but you still haven’t had sex. Not yet at least. You haven’t even taken off your clothes in front of each other yet. Suddenly, you remember being eighteen and just making out with your boyfriend – the territory of any form of sex prohibited for some reason. Somehow, you two have never gotten around that for the past few weeks you’ve hung out. It may be because you always stop it before it happens, but it’s not because you don’t want to; just that it feels like you’re going to a place you won’t know how to go back to.

So, it’s mostly date nights, a sneaky coffee hung during the afternoon when you’re not particularly busy and your schedule aligns, and making out in his car until your pager beeps or when his phone rings.

And as good as Mingyu may be with his lips when he locks them with yours, he’s more than what you thought he was.

You have to admit that you had doubts when you first met him. You don’t trust a lot of good-looking men, because they always end up being assholes. He also has the face of a guy who – in a cliche fashion – likes to break women’s hearts on a regular basis. You went to the first date a little hopeful of something real, but you knew your luck with romance isn’t the best – may be the worst you’ve ever known – but recently, you’re starting to think that maybe the poison’s wearing out and Mingyu may just be… decent.

Decent enough to be a boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

And it feels so weird to think so. You’ve been single for so long, and sure, you went to a lot of dates during the past two years but Mingyu’s going on two months, and everything just seems so… right. Like this can be it.

You hate having wishful thinking. You hate getting your hopes high. But god, he makes it so hard.

“You going with us later?” Nayeon asks, stretching her neck while looking at you.

You’re all currently at some abandoned ward at the hospital where you take quick breaks from your shift to eat or talk for a while.

“Where to?” You ask, taking a bite off Taehyung’s egg sandwich which he gave you earlier.

“We’re going out for barbecue tonight. Jungkook didn’t tell you?” Doyeon says, coming back from her quick trip to the vending machine.

You look at them confused. “No, he didn’t tell me about… barbecue or going out.”

As if on cue, Jungkook arrives in the scene.

“She’s not coming with us,” Jungkook says, and you look at him with visible offense on your expression. “She’s going out with her boyfriend tonight.”

The room quickly becomes rowdy at the declaration, and you flip Taehyung off when you hear him let out a lighthearted “boo”.

“Oh my god,” Nayeon squeals. “Mingyu’s your boyfriend now?” She asks, going over to the bed you’re sitting on, huddling closer to you ready to hear some gossip.

Doyeon looks surprised as well.

You look at Jungkook to give him a death glare. The fucker just puts his hands up in the air.

“No, god– why would you believe him?” You huff out, rolling your eyes. “Mingyu’s not my boyfriend.” Nayeon’s shoulders deflate. “Yet.” You add, and suddenly, she smiles. You take a glance at Doyeon who looks at Jungkook subtly. Or not so subtly, since you saw her. She didn’t seem to notice.

But Jungkook just wears a smug expression as he approaches you closer.

“See?” He shrugs, plopping himself on the same bed beside you. He looks at everybody. “She barely goes home nowadays.”

“Shut up, Jungkook!” You say, continuously hitting him on the arm as he makes little effort to dodge them.

But as usual, your friends love to bully you and join in the teasing.

“So, you joining or what?” Taehyung says after a while.

You actually had plans with Mingyu tonight. Just the usual dinner at his place and some movie and some fooling around, but you remember Jungkook’s teasing and felt the competitive need for him to not be right.

Besides, you don’t want to be the kind of friend who suddenly ditches their friends just because they’re starting to date – and you know that beneath their good-natured chaff is a genuine feeling of sulk because you’ve been admittedly bailing out on all your hangs lately.

It isn’t even that much because you don’t get to hang outside the hospital often – but you usually do go out on Fridays or Saturdays for some barbecue and go to a KTV bar afterwards. It’s sort of like became a tradition at this point, and it dawns on you that you haven’t been present in them for the past few weeks, which makes you feel bad.

“I’m coming with.”

Jungkook immediately eyes you with an arched brow. “For real?”

You challenge him with a look. “Yes, why?”

“I just remember you mentioning you’re going to Mingyu’s tonight.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “I’m just gonna tell him I’m hanging out with you all. No big deal.” You say, believing what you said. Mingyu’s come accustomed to your group of friends and you’re both adults who live separate lives. As far as you know him, he wouldn’t be making a big deal out of you cancelling on a plan. You think he’ll understand. You hope he does.

“Oh my god, don’t!” Nayeon cuts in. “Don’t worry about us. Go date your hot lawyer boyfriend right now. Are you insane?”

You look at her incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

Doyeon looks at you, nodding her head. “Nayeon’s right. If it’s between a date with my boyfriend or having barbecue with Taehyung and Jungkook, I’d rather be with my boyfriend,” She looks at the two guys. “No offense.”

“As if I don’t want to be with my girlfriend either tonight?” Taehyung says in disbelief.

Doyeon rolls her eyes, but she lets out a low chuckle.

“Wait– why are we fighting right now? If __ wants to cancel her date with Mingyu to come with us for barbecue night, then let her be.” Jungkook says.

In the corner, Taehyung crosses his arms and sends a certain look Jungkook’s way.

“Don’t get too excited, Jungkook.”

Jungkook and you pretty much have the same exact reaction at that.

“What the hell does that mean?”

You feel a slight pinch to your arm.

“Aw!” You slap Jungkook’s bicep for what he did. “What the hell!”

“I said it first.”

“You’re a child.” You roll your eyes.

Taehyung raises his hand. “I think you’re both twelve-year-olds trapped in thirty-year-old surgeons’ bodies.”

“Twelve’s too generous, I think they’re mentally still in first grade.” Doyeon comments.

You don’t get to rebut as you see a glimpse of the resident chief coming your way. It seems that the rest noticed the same thing, and suddenly, you’re all scrambling from your comfortable positions on the ER beds and going your separate ways to the hallways.

You went to your go-to-barbecue restaurant as soon as your shift ended for the day.

The eating becomes a drinking session until everybody tapped out but you and Jungkook. More like, you, because Jungkook wasn’t drinking at all. Doyeon was the first one to call herself an Uber, and then Nayeon and Taehyung had to leave because they have an early shift the next day.

“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?” You ask Jungkook, downing another shot glass of soju. Your alcohol tolerance is not that high nor is it that low, but after two bottles – you admit you’re starting to feel a little dazed.

“Yeah. Afternoon.” Jungkook responds. When he sees you pouring yourself another glass again, he takes the shot and downs it himself.

“Rude!” You pout at him.

“You’re all red and shit, it’s time to tap out.” Jungkook chuckles when you show him an even deeper frown. “Come on, it’s nearing twelve.”

“I’m so tired.” You whine, not even bothering to take your glass back from him, just letting your shoulder deflate and bowing your head down, your eyes becoming droopier by the second.

After four years of residency, you feel like you have started to operate on autopilot somehow. Wake up at fuck-ass o’clock at dawn to prep for work and finish a varying number of hours of shift for the week. You admittedly barely get time to partake in leisure activities – and it’s not new per say. It’s just like in med school except you’re actually doing the real thing now and instead of grades, real lives are involved and at stake – which puts an even bigger weight on your shoulders.

It’s why you’re thankful to Mingyu; for his presence… for starting to invite you to his place rather than eat out. Don’t get it twisted– you love the bougie dinners and all that, but his penthouse is definitely way more comfortable.

But lately you’ve forgotten about what it is like to hang out with your friends outside of the five-minute breaks in the hospital – and times like these you love letting yourself loose and relax because, hey, you deserve it a little!

“Should I buy you soup to drink in the car?” You can hear Jungkook ask. You don’t answer. “Yeah, I should buy you soup.” He tells himself.

And then you see him going to the counter only to come back after a few minutes with a paperbag in his hand.

“You’re drunk.” He announces.

You snicker. “I’m not.”

“You sure are.” Jungkook shakes his head as he takes you by your waist to help you stand up.

“Just feeling a little dizzy, ‘s all.” You mumble when you fall against his neck upon straightening your legs.

“You’re not just a little dizzy, silly.” Jungkook whispers against your head.

You hum as a response and you can feel the vibration on his chest as he laughs at you. He doesn’t say another word as he guides your steps outside of the restaurant, and before you know it, you’re situated in the passenger seat of his car, with him wearing your seatbelt around you.

“Thanks.” You give him a lopsided smile, shifting around in the space to get more comfortable.

“Welcome, your highness.” You giggle at his response. “Drink up, it’s gonna help you sober up.” He says, handing you the paper bowl of soup he bought from the restaurant a few minutes ago.

You groan, taking it from him and slowly sip from the cup. Jungkook tells you to get his water flask from his backpack on the back seat when you finish your soup.

The soup and water relieve you from the acid reflux you feel in your stomach. Only slightly. Because when you close your eyes and lean back on the seat more comfortably, that’s when you feel something in your throat.

“Jungkook,” You call him.

“Hm?”

“I think I want to puke.”

Jungkook immediately turns to look at you. “For real?”

You bite your bottom lip, nodding your head repeatedly.

“Okay, shit– wait,” Jungkook looks around for something. Probably a plastic bag or whatever. But when he finishes scoping the area around the interior of his car, he seems to find nothing. When he glances at the rearview mirror, he takes a reverse and suddenly, he turns off the ignition of his car. “I’ll park here for a while. Let’s go outside.”

He gets out of the car first before opening your door. You think you’re fine to walk on your own, but you don’t oppose to Jungkook wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you to a…

Playground. The swings, in particular.

“Sit here for a bit.” He instructs, holding the chains steady for you as he waits until you’re sitting on it. He runs towards the car, and you feel way too weird in the throat to ask him why.

You recognize the place that’s not exactly far away from your complex. Maybe a ten-minute drive away.

Jungkook comes back with a crumpled plastic bag. It’s from a familiar provision shop. Probably was in his compartment glove the whole time.

“Here,” he hands you the plastic. “I’ll help you.”

You get it from him and shake your head.

“No, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind.”

You look at him straight in the eye. “You’re not gonna help me puke, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stares at you for a while and then sighs. He holds the chains of your swing again, standing beside you, putting his hand in his pockets.

“Okay. Puke your heart out.”

You snort. You open the plastic bag and get a feel of that weird invasive push in your throat – until you realize Jungkook is watching you.

Looking up at him, you whine, “Jungkook. Don’t watch.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “I’m not watching.”

“It’s gross.” You say, a bit embarrassed. The whole thing’s embarrassing, to be honest. Jungkook taking care of you because you got stupid drunk. It’s not the first time, and there were definitely a lot more occurrences worse than this – you’re just grateful he hasn’t kicked you out of a curb. Yet.

“Watching somebody puke?” He scoffs as he says your name. “We literally amputated a leg today, and FYI, I’m just scared you’re gonna have some serious complication while puking.”

You frown because– okay. Fair. He has valid points.

“Okay. Well. I’m not gonna die puking. So, turn around or stand back there at the slides far from me.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asks, disbelief painting his voice.

You just nod. Thankfully, he doesn’t say any more and obediently walks about five steps away from you, acquiescing to your request.

It takes you a few minutes to settle yourself before you let out the accumulation of what you’ve digested for the day. Your throat feels crass when you’re done, and your stomach feels empty. When you look ahead, your head still feels like it’s floating. But at least you feel a little better now.

“Drink this,” Jungkook approaches you again and gives you his tumbler once again. You drink from it quickly and quietly. “Feel okay now?”

You hum, nodding and smiling up at him.

“Thanks, Kook.”

He only mirrors your smile and goes to sit on the swing beside you. “You wanna go home now?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, contemplating his question. As you look around, you notice it’s so... solemn. It’s midnight, after all. There’s a sort of eerie calmness with the cricket sounds but the wind is nice and the dark skies project twinkling lights.

“It’s so nice here,” You say instead.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jungkook chuckles and you follow.

You look at him and sincerely, you ask, “Just for a few minutes, please?”

Jungkook’s quick to say, “Okay.”

His voice is just as gentle as the night breeze.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. You’re sobering up?”

“Eh. I’m getting there.”

“Good.”

You look at him again. “Thank you.”

Jungkook sends you a confused look, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I heard that.”

You chuckle. “And I’m saying it again. Thank you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Alright. You’re welcome. Times two. And you’re not allowed to say it again.”

You both laugh at the exchange. The silence that follows after that is comfortable.

“You know, you still remember Changsub? My first boyfriend?” Jungkook nods at your words. “He asked me to be his girlfriend at a playground. Some old one in our hometown.” You pause for a while, recalling that memory. You laugh because it was just… so long ago. But the pictures are still so vivid in your head.

“Sweet. Too bad he’s an asshole, huh?” Jungkook comments, having known most of your relationship history.

“Yeah,” You shrug, laughing still. “But I, uhm, I remember a day after that– I had, like, this whole scenario in my head. I pictured a few years down the line, he’s on his knees and he’s showing me a ring asking me to be his wife on the very same playground. I thought it would be really sweet if he proposed to me at the same place.”

“Wow.” Jungkook muses, and you chuckle at the reaction.

“I know. It was crazy. I mean, why the hell was I thinking about getting married at that time? I was literally only sixteen and I think I had an AP assignment due the day after that. I was just so in my head.” You say, looking at Jungkook who has a smile of amusement on his face.

And then your laughter fades.

“I was so naive that time. But then I was also naive at twenty. And Jungkook…” You bite your bottom lip, feeling it quiver when you look into his eyes this time. “I’m afraid that I’m still naive at thirty.”

Jungkook calls your name softly, noticing the drop on your tone and the shift from playful to… melancholic.

You close your eyes and draw a deep breath.

“I like Mingyu. I really like him a lot,” And the declaration feels weird verbally announced. You’ve thought it for the past few weeks you’ve been with him – but you’ve both never said it to each other. Not yet. But saying it out loud now – it feels different. It feels real. And you’re so scared. “And we enjoy each other’s company a lot that I feel like he likes me just as much as I like him. You know, we kissed on the first date. I don’t usually kiss on the first date. But I like him so much that I did.”

You look at Jungkook sadly. You gauge the look on his face, but he just sits there with an unreadable expression on his face, though he listens. He always does. You’re not particularly looking for any response, anyway. And he just seems to know so well that right now, you just want to vent.

“It’s so embarrassing to say but I feel like he’s it, Kook.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “And I feel like… like the last time I felt this way about someone was with Eunwoo. And that was four years ago—” You let your head fall slightly. “And I’m so scared.” You don’t intend the crack in your voice when you say it.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls you again, turning his body towards you, reaching out to hold your arm.

“What if I’m wrong? Again?” You tell him.

It takes Jungkook a few seconds to answer.

“I think, __, that you’re a person with a big heart,” You scoff with a smile on your face at that. You get that a lot. But Jungkook insists, “I think you have so much love to give, you know? And I think… Mingyu’s a lucky guy if he gets to receive it.”

That makes your lips curl. Touched.

“You think so?”

Jungkook only nods.

“Why can’t you be nice to me like this all the time?” You crack a joke.

“I’m always nice to you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, obviously finding your words absurd. You only laugh but now Jungkook turns serious, and you fear you might have induced a genuine worry in him. “Am I not always nice to you?”

“You always tease me and shit in front of our friends but so incredibly sweet when we’re all alone.”

Jungkook stutters when he says, “Well… that’s my love language. Teasing you.”

You squint your eyes at him. “Awe, you love me?”

“Okay, fuck off.”

You burst into laughter when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you.

“Hey, swing me.”

You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.

“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.

“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”

“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.

“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.

Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it – a huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.

“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.

You laugh.

“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”

He visibly winces. “Touché.”

Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.

For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.

But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.

“Okay, your turn.”

Jungkook gives you a big grin.

“Nice.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.

“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.

You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”

The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.

You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.

“What the fuck, __?”

You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.

Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.

Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.

“Let’s lie on the ground.”

“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.

You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.

Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”

You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.

Jungkook stops his rambling after that.

“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies.

“The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him.

As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.

You smile, going back to looking at the sky.

“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.

“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.

Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”

You chuckle at the irony.

“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”

You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”

That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.

“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”

“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.

“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”

“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”

You hum, eyes still closed.

“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.

The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.

Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.

“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.

You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.

Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.

“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.

You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.

“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.

Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.

You fall asleep easily mid-drive.

In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.

morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed — your angelic friend, kookie

You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.

“Mingyu,” you call his attention. Mingyu turns to look at you. “This is a really nice place.”

He smiles at your remark. Mingyu moves his hand from your waist to your lower back as he leads you to the entrance door.

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while.”

When you both reach the door, Mingyu introduces himself to the butler. You let the two of them talk for a while, him confirming his reservation, your eyes roaming around the restaurant and taking in the classy interior.

“Please follow me, Mr. Kim and Ms. __,”

The butler gestures inside and you both follow behind him.

It’s another one of your date nights. While it isn’t unusual for you both to get fancy with dinners, you’ve gotten used to the casual dinners you’ve been having at his own place with take-outs and his impressive cooking.

But tonight is a little different. There’s a certain something in the air – especially when Mingyu especially asked you to dress a little more formally. He always has a suit on naturally with his line of work, but tonight he’s wearing a particularly shiny one. The tie is something you’ve never seen before, but maybe you just like to think that. You on the other hand settled for an indigo satin dress that hugs your figure like a glove and shows just enough skin. You’ve always thought you looked good in it.

And you think it’s perfect for when Mingyu asks something that will change the trajectory of your relationship for good.

Today marks the third month since you started seeing each other. You don’t know if he’s aware of it – but it’s been, indeed, whole three months. An monthsary some sort? Granted, there’s no official label to it, at least not yet. But with the fancy set-up and the way he cryptically replied to when you asked him what the whole thing was for tonight, you think he does know. And this is his idea of surprise.

Of course, you don’t let yourself get obsessed with the idea lest you end up with only mere assumptions.

“Thank you.” You both say to the butler as he leads you both to your table. He gives you the menu book and you take your sweet time to choose from the selection, giving the butler your orders after a few minutes.

When he leaves, Mingyu looks at you wearing his usual charming smile.

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of his face.

“This is really fancy,” You tell him, smiling.

“It’s sort of like special place,” Mingyu chuckles. “You know, Mr. Yang– the senior partner over at work– officially announced me as partner here.” He tells you, eyes looking into yours.

You feel your heart do a somersault at his gaze and the possibility of his words.

“Good steak?” You say, trying to act oblivious to the weight of his confession. You also don’t want to assume he’s saying what you think he’s saying…

“Yeah, yeah,” He nods his head, chuckling, then his laughter fades as he begins to look more serious when he continues, “So… it’s been three months since we started seeing each other.”

Your heart skips a bit when you listen to his words. You didn’t think what you were thinking earlier was true, but now that he’s brought it up, you deduce you might not be too far away.

“__,” Mingyu calls. You hum, leaning in closer to let him know you’re listening attentively. He gives you a coy smile, then his hand on the table moves over towards yours. You don’t fight your big smile off when he places it on top of yours, especially when you feel the warmth it radiates and how it looks like it could just easily enclose your own. “You said you wanted to take things slow, and I respect that. I just want you to know that this is – this thing between us – it’s serious for me.”

“I’m serious about us two.” You say immediately.

Mingyu chuckles, simpering when he looks at you again. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“So?” You ask, waiting.

“I want to be your boyfriend. If you let me.” Mingyu says, clear and firm. “It’s just… I’m happy with our dates. And I just love hanging out with you. But I think I’ll be even happier if we go out together as boyfriend and girlfriend – officially – from now on.”

You nibble on your bottom lip; couldn’t contain the big smile you’ve been fighting against since earlier.

You’ve been expecting the question ever since you got here, but you’re quite surprised for your assumptions to be right.

“Okay.” You say coolly.

Mingyu furrows his brow. “Okay– as in…?”

“Okay, as in, I wanna be your girlfriend.”

His lips part. “Are you… for real?” You nod your head repeatedly, stifling a giggle as Mingyu begins to smile so widely. “Fuck.”

“Hey,” you lightheartedly scold.

Mingyu nods his head, still smiling. “I’m sorry, I’m just—” he cuts himself off with a chuckle. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle.

“I wish I can kiss you right now.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as you look around. There are too many people. But the hopeless romantic in you tells you it’s okay.

“Why won’t you?” You challenge him, and Mingyu arches a brow at that.

He looks like he’s giving in, but then he shakes his head. With a smile that borders on flirtatious, he leans closer to you and whispers, “Later.”

Mingyu’s sweet promise at the restaurant ends up with you straddling his lap on the driver’s seat, your dress riding over your thighs and the thin straps falling off your shoulder.

"Fuck," Mingyu breathes in your ear, hands full of your ass while you continue to grind against the bulging crotch of his slacks.

You're not any better, panting on the crook of his neck as he encourages you to move on top of him. You feel the wet kisses he bestows across the column of your neck, moaning at the delicious friction from one particular thrust of his hips.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, in your defense. Your dinner ended on a really good note and Mingyu was just supposed to lean in for one sweet kiss once you were situated in his car.

But then you swiped your tongue over his lips and Mingyu threw away his gentlemanly act for the night, granting you back with a kiss that had more fervor in it. Forceful in a way that says he wants you.

And the feeling’s more than mutual.

His coat’s long gone now, stashed away on his back seat, and you’ve already undone the top three buttons of his dress shirt. Mingyu squeezes your boob over the thin material of your dress, prompting you to let out a low moan.

“Why—” Mingyu cuts himself off to kiss your lips one more time.

“Why don’t we go to your place?”

You don’t register his words the first time, too drunk from the sensation of his touch over your body.

“Yeah?” You mindlessly say, eyes shut as Mingyu peppers kisses to your jaw down to your neck once again.

“You’ve never invited me to your place.”

At that, your eyes open and you still on top of him.

“What?”

Mingyu looks up, and you’re about to be distracted by his messy hair and his swollen lips but then he says, “We’ve never gone to your place before.”

“Oh.”

He’s quick to gauge your reaction. Cupping your jaw, he plants a kiss to the side of your lips. “I’m not insisting if you don’t want to.”

“N-no, I want to,” is your immediate response. “It’s just…” you trail off, thinking about how to approach the subject.

Mingyu hums, waiting for your next words, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. It helps you regulate your nervousness at the sudden mention of your place.

“I have a roommate.”

There you let it out.

Somehow in the past three months you’ve been dating, you never mentioned that you’re living with Jungkook. The subject just never came up – until now, that is – and you didn’t really feel the need to tell him when he never asked in the first place.

But deep inside, you’re a bit hesitant to tell him about it. Sure, Jungkook’s his friend, and Mingyu did say they were close and knew each other well, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him that you’re residing with his close friend – but that’s exactly what makes the whole thing weird. It’s one thing as a woman to live with a man in one place, and it’s another if that man is a friend of your – well, now boyfriend.

And you know to yourself that you and Jungkook are purely platonic so there should be absolutely nothing to be worried about. It’s not even that you don’t trust Mingyu to understand – it’s just that it’s not as easy to tell him straight up. Not when you’re just starting a relationship right now with an official label to it – not when you’re finally in a serious relationship after four whole years of looking and waiting.

You don’t want to ruin it. Not right now.

“Oh, okay.” Mingyu nods at your confession, understanding. “Is it why…?”

You nod your head, already getting what he means. Licking your lips, you look anywhere but his eyes. Instead, you focus your gaze on the exposed upper part of his chest and let your fingers toy with his collar. Mingyu lets you.

“But… roommate’s away for the night.” You tell him. And it’s true. Jungkook told you he has a date tonight and that usually means he won’t be going home.

And you want Mingyu so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

That puts a smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“She is, huh?”

Your heart skips a bit, and you give him a smile you hope he doesn’t recognize as fake.

Somehow, you don’t bother to correct him even though Jungkook – your very roommate – is most definitely not a she.

“And here goes my bedroom,” You say as you open your door, letting Mingyu in. You’re not really worried about its state because thank god you cleaned up before leaving for your date tonight. Jungkook’s the cleaner one though, and that’s an advantage because he’s kind of obsessed with cleaning the whole apartment and not just his room when he has the time. It’s exactly why Mingyu pays you a compliment on the neatness of the place.

“Cute,” he muses, looking at the Sanrio plushies on your nightstand.

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling a little shy. Mingyu’s place is the definition of bachelor – his bedroom’s literally out of an Architectural Digest page. And while you’re proud of your Sanrio plushie collection – they’re your childhood gifts and you’ve collected them until college and they were expensive as hell – you can’t help but think that maybe you’re coming off as childish right now. You wish you could’ve hidden them or something…

You hope Mingyu doesn’t think too much about it.

“I like the room,” Mingyu says, looking at you who’s sitting on the edge of your bed. “It feels very… you.”

“Really?” You chuckle. “I mean, I’d hope so. I’ve been here for two years.”

Mingyu chuckles, following you to the bed. You feel the mattress sinking in when he sits beside you.

“I wanted to give you something at the restaurant earlier, but I kinda chickened out,” He says.

You arch your brow. “What is it?”

You watch as Mingyu takes something out of his pocket, your heart skipping a few beats when it turns out to be a jewelry box. Mingyu looks at you and smiles, hands slowly opening the velvet box, and your lips part when it reveals a dainty silver necklace with a small drop diamond pendant.

“Wow.” You utter, eyes blinking repeatedly, not knowing how to react.

“Well…?” Mingyu says, gauging your reaction.

“You’re giving that to me?” You ask in pure disbelief. He only nods. “That’s really– it’s really pretty.”

“I thought about you when I picked it up. It made sense.” He says smoothly, and you giggle at his words.

God, you like him so much.

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” You chuckle, cupping your face with your hands as if it could make the blood go away from your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“I’d love to wear it on you.” Mingyu smiles.

“Of course.”

He takes out the necklace from the box and asks you to turn around for a bit. You do so, helping him put your hair over one shoulder. You can feel him scooting closer to your back, his breathing on your nape, and the way he slowly caresses your shoulder first before his arms go around your neck to lock the necklace around your nape.

The cold of the material hits your skin, just on time when you feel Mingyu planting a kiss on your clavicle.

“It’s really pretty.” You say in awe, touching the pendant.

“Hm,” Mingyu continues to pepper your skin with small kisses. “You’re beautiful.” You turn to look at him, smiling. He mirrors that and cups your jaw to give you a peck on the lips. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You giggle when he squeezes your waist.

“Thank you.” you say in between your laughter. You hold his arms and stand up from the bed to place yourself in front of him. Mingyu looks up at you with one brow raised, but he’s quick to manspread when you begin to straddle his lap. As you situate yourself on top of him, you wrap your arms around his neck and let him run his hands across your body when you do so. “I really appreciate the necklace.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu whispers against your lips.

You hum, trailing your fingers down his collar then start to unbutton his shirt. When you get the few undone, you look Mingyu into his eyes and he meets your lips that crash into his in a few seconds.

You suppose it’s not exactly surprising that the kiss turns heated way too quickly. After all, you were both humping each other in his car earlier.

Sighing into the kiss, you tug at his hair, and it prompts his hands to squeeze your ass a little too tight. Mingyu breaks the kiss and there’s a barely noticeable string of saliva when your lips move away from each other. He trails kisses from your jaw down to the base of your neck, taking the straps of your dress down, hands beginning to rub your bare arms.

“So beautiful,” Mingyu sighs, lips travelling back to your own. He prods his tongue in your mouth that you gladly open for him. You let out a moan from the sensation of his tongue against yours, clutching his shoulders so hard you're sure you're gonna imprint your nails on his skin despite the shirt he still has on.

"Mingyu," you whisper, mouth ajar and gaping uselessly against his hair as his mouth leaves yours eventually to go down to your cleavage. His wandering fingers go around your back to fumble with the ribbons that are holding the dress, and you’re quick to help him tug it down completely until your chest is out for his full viewing.

Mingyu hisses at the lack of bra – except the nipple tapes – when the top of the dress comes off. He stops and stares, then takes a long and deep breath, as if the sight of your breasts intoxicated him; sighing as if he's long wished to see you like this.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so hot." He cups the swell of your chest in his two large palms, fondling them as you continue rolling your pelvis against his straining crotch area. He grazes the silicon material covering your nipples, looks up at you as if to ask.

“Y-yeah,” you sigh out, knowing what he meant with the look.

Taking them off gently, Mingyu earns a moan from you, the sound getting a bit louder when he puts one of the two peaks in his mouth, and the sight is nothing short of erotic.

It elicits a sharp breath from you, hands flying to his soft and brunette locks. You almost feel bad thinking that you've been grabbing at them since earlier.

But you have more important things to mind than attending to Mingyu’s silky and healthy hair.

You seek for his lips which he gives you almost automatically when he notices you asking for it, the two of you meeting in a hungry kiss, your nails on one hand clawing at his back as you cup his jaw in the other. But his hands don't leave your breasts, palming them roughly but just right; squeezing so hard all the while tugging at your nipples.

For a moment, you take a halt, catching your breath and look at him with your hooded eyes. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "Take your shirt off."

He does as you say so, and you help him unbutton the entirety of his dress shirt to get the thing off him faster. Mingyu lets go of your boobs but quickly holds them as soon as his shirt is off. This time he flicks at both your nipples, and you can’t help but bite at his neck. The pleasure’s too much and you can feel yourself dripping down your thong, the sticky feeling of it making you squirm on his lap.

As if Mingyu has read your mind, he grips your waist and sets you down on the bed. He hovers over you, fingers idly exploring under the skirt of your dress until he finds the band of your panties.

You groan when you feel the cold brush of air on your bare thighs, suddenly feeling impatient. "Mingyu,"

“You want me to eat you out?” He whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You almost cry at his question.

“Yes,”

Mingyu drags his fingers on your clothed core, groaning when he feels how soiled your thong is. "You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. Look at you," he sighs, hands leaving your pussy as he leans back and palms the strain of his pants. Your toes curl at the sight, uneven breaths puffing from your lips. "Look so sweet under me."  

And you're also a mess under him, writhing and completely getting lightheaded from his actions.

You let out a mewl when he pushes up the skirt of your dress to your hips, dragging down your underwear to your thighs.

Lifting your butt off the mattress, you help him get it off of you completely and you don't miss the way the flimsy thong sticks to your pussy before he takes it off you entirely. Mingyu seems to notice as well, judging from the way he hissed under his breath.

Your pussy is slick and sloppy, wet and dripping for him.

"So fucking pretty for me, god, I can’t believe I get to have you like this," he whispers against your throbbing heat, leaving a small kiss on your clit.

You arch your back when he uses his finger to run it through your slit, adding another one to spread your walls. Mingyu groans at the juices that stick to his digits.

As he adjusts himself on the mattress, hands gripping the back of your knees, you push them up until you're bended in almost half. You hold up your own legs, getting whiplashed when he licks a long, firm and deep stripe over you, making your eyes roll from the back of your head, breath hitching as you keep yourself steady in your own hold.

"Oh my god – Mingyu!–"

He starts slow, kissing around your labia, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit. Your head falls from the mountain of pillows under you, suddenly feeling frustrated.

"S-stop teasing me. Please, Mingyu,"

Ending your misery, he spreads your thighs, puckers his lips and dusts a few pecks over your bare heat and dives in for it seconds later with too much fervor. He savors every drop that oozes out from your hole, licking and lapping until you feel his tongue inside you. Mingyu could be spelling out his name for all it matters, but you really couldn't give a fuck.

"Oh, fuuuuck–" you groan, trying so hard to keep yourself steady. "S-so good,"

He hums in your pussy, and you don't help the way one of your legs drop to the mattress, the other one hooking on his shoulder. It makes you grab for his hair, pushing his head down and thrashing underneath his face.

It felt like minutes passed and you're almost crying by how good it all feels, his tongue doing wonders in the walls of your heat.

Soon, tears start to well in your eyes because of the pleasure, drawn out moans and heavy breaths filling the room. You couldn’t care less about the volume. Right now, you just want to cum.

"Your fingers, Mingyu,” You sigh out, and before you could even prepare yourself, he's inserting his middle finger inside you, pushing it in until it's knuckle-deep. "Oh god!"

“Yeah?”

He starts at an average pace until he adds another finger in your entrance, this time picking up his speed – and it makes you drip everywhere.

When he settles on scissoring his fingers inside you, moving at an abnormal pace that have you gasping under him, your body shake and your toes curl on the sheets. Mingyu swoops down to kiss your pussy again, two digits being repeatedly swallowed by your warm hole, slurping every juice that comes out of it. As he feels you tremble, the precedence of you nearing your climax, he takes his thumb to your clit.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," your pant, "I'm coming–fuck–“

Mingyu removes his fingers from you, exchanging them with his tongue instead and you cry out while he continues to rub your clit vigorously.

And when you arch your back higher this time, you spasm around his fingers, moaning uncontrollably.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it,” Mingyu whispers, pecking your heat a few more times to calm you down from your high. After a few moments, he removes your thigh from his shoulder, quickly coming up to kiss you on the mouth.

You taste yourself on his tongue but you couldn’t pay much attention to it when you feel his dick against your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let exhaustion wash over you.

Mingyu lets you stay still, and when you open your eyes again, you see him staring at you with a warm smile dancing across his lips. Your heart skips a beat, could no longer feel it but hear it instead, and you bite your lip, pushing his chest away slightly in an attempt to get on top of him.

“Let me suck your cock.” You say, but Mingyu shakes his head, firm on his place: on top of you.

“Let’s do that next time. Tonight, I have to fuck you well into the next day.”

And he does.

You didn't cum again – you usually don't from penetrative sex – and your first orgasm exhausted you way too much to let yourself go the second time. Mingyu didn't mind, telling you it was fine when you gave him an apology about it.

You wake up panicking at the thought that you’re going to be late for work.

Scrambling to sit on your bed, you take your alarm clock in your hands, letting out a dramatic “Thank god” when you see it read as 5:06am. Your alarm goes off at 5:30 as your weekday shift starts at seven.

Which means it’s still early. And you’re not going to be late for work like you feared.

You remember last night’s events though, and your eyes quickly go over to the other side of your bed.

Mingyu’s not in it – but it feels warm. An indication of the fact that he stayed the night over after what you did. You also deduced that he must’ve only gotten out a few minutes before you woke up.

Thinking he’s outside your room, you begin to stand up – groaning the way your thighs ache a bit as you do so. You’re only dressed in your panties and camisole, and you thought about going out in them – but then it made you feel a little weird. Okay, sure, Mingyu’s already seen everything there is to see – you had sex last night – but being naked in a non-sexual fashion in front of someone is kind of a little different, so you opt on putting on a pair of short shorts.

As you head towards your door, fingers ready to twist the knob, you’re surprised to see Mingyu meeting you halfway.

“Hey—”

“Why the hell is Jungkook here?”

Your smile drops and you look at him in confusion.

Mingyu wears an expression you’ve never seen him in before. He’s pissed. Eyebrows furrowed, gaze not soft like it usually is when it comes to you, and above all… his tone borders on accusatory.

“Why is he in the living room saying he’s your roommate?” Mingyu asks once again when you don’t say anything.

“I—” but you’re rendered speechless, frozen in your position. Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Your brain is a jumble of thoughts and all you can think about is Mingyu seemingly getting mad at you.

“__?” A voice that’s absolutely familiar speaks up. You hear Jungkook’s steps getting closer to your door when he finally shows himself to you. “What’s Mingyu doing here? And why doesn’t he know we live together?”

Mingyu forces himself inside your bedroom and bumps into you a bit as he faces you with a venomous tone. “I’m going.” He declares, grabbing his shirt from your desk chair and putting on his belt.

“Mingyu, it’s not—”

“Save it, __.” He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence, hastily buttoning up his dress shirt.

Jungkook frowns and butts in. “Mingyu, let her talk. I told you earlier, we’re roommates—”

“Jeon,” You turn to look at him, almost spitting out his name. “Not now.”

You see Jungkook visibly recoiling at that. But you’re too concerned over Mingyu already on his way out the door, ready to leave.

“Mingyu, just hear me out.” You say, looking at him sincerely.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Not right now.” Mingyu tells you with a cold look paired with a cold tone. You deflate, taken aback at how nothing on his face screams like he cares about you. He glances at his watch. “I have to go to work.”

He heads towards your apartment door and you follow him there, hoping to change his mind about hearing you out.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, and it’s not that, Gyu.” You tell him once again, following him outside your unit.

Mingyu stands there for a while. Then, he sighs, putting his thumb over his temple. He heaves out a breath, looking into your eyes as he says, “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? Let’s just… let things cool down for a bit.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you mean?”

“I’m flying to Chicago this afternoon but I’ll be back in the evening. I’ll call you later after work.” He says, and now his face doesn’t look so devoid of emotions like how it was earlier.

But you worry about his words.

“You’re flying to another state.” You reiterate, just so you know you heard him right.

“It’s just for a few hours, sweetheart,” The petname soothes you a little but then he continues to add, “Look, I’m not sure of how I feel about… Jungkook being your roommate. You didn’t tell me about it– just imagine my surprise when I saw him after I went out of your room. It’s not a nice feeling to get lied to,” He says, and you feel an arrow shooting straight to your heart at that. You blink your eyes, feeling like there are tears forming on the sides. Mingyu seems to notice that as he steps closer to you and rubs your arm. “We’ll talk later, __. Just not now. Give me time to process this.”

You give him a weak smile.

Mingyu cups your cheek, and you lean towards his touch. Rubbing a thumb over your skin, he leans down to kiss your lips.

When he breaks away after a quick moment, he tells you, “Later, hm? I promise.” You nod. Mingyu gives you a smile. “And thank you for last night.”

That erases your worry. Not all, but some of it.

“Thank you too.”

“Alright, I’m going, okay?” Mingyu lets go of your face and you look at him as he turns around after you bid your goodbye.

You watch his retreating back in the hallway from your position, nibbling on your bottom lip trying to process the turn of events – and it’s only five fucking am still.

When you enter your apartment again, you see Jungkook sitting on the couch of your living room. And he looks just as pissed when your gaze falls to him.

“What the hell was that?” He welcomes you with.

“What the hell is this?” You point back at him. “You told me you weren’t coming home.”

“Yeah, but I have work – which we both go to at the same time, by the way. Apparently, you’re bringing boys now to this goddamn place.”

You do a double take at his tone.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” You say, voicing starting to pick up volume. You feel irritation bubbling up inside you as Jungkook stands up from the couch and turns his back to you, ignoring your question as he heads to the direction of the kitchen.

“I said we’re both gonna be late for work.”

You follow his steps. “No, you said I’m “bringing boys here”, what do you mean by that?” You grab his arm and that’s effective enough to make him turn around and look at you. But he avoids eye contact. “Don’t turn your back to me when I’m talking to you, Jungkook.”

“I’m so sorry then, I’ll make sure to look into your eyes when I say every word that comes out of my mouth from now on.” He sarcastically says, and your annoyance grows.

“Watch your goddamn tone.”

Jungkook scoffs. “You’re the one to talk about watching tones when you literally just told me to shut up in front of your boyfriend?”

Your frown instantly. So you were right to think that moved him a little. But you tell him your confusion, “Where the hell did you get that? I didn’t tell you to shut up.”

“Yeah, you just told me “not now” like I’m a child trying to insert himself in mommy and daddy’s little argument. You might as well just have told me to shut the fuck up.”

The way he phrased your argument with Mingyu “little” rubs you off the wrong way.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you sarcastically say. “Did getting told to shut up by a woman in front of another man hurt your big macho man ego?” 

“You’re making it about another thing.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, opening the refrigerator and taking out a loaf of bread.

“You think I forgot about your little “bringing boys here” comment?” You point out, but Jungkook decides now is the time to be an asshole and starts acting nonchalant instead, putting jam all over his bread. But you see the tick in his jaw, the tongue prodding against his mouth. He’s just as pissed as you are right now.

“And you sure as hell did. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You seethe. “Fuck you. I don’t bring “boys” here. Mingyu’s my boyfriend,” You say, and to be petty, you add, “As if you’ve never ever brought girls here before?”

Jungkook looks at you instantly. “Don’t you dare pin that on me. That was in the very first week that we lived together, mind you. But you told me how uncomfortable it made you feel and I thought about boundaries since then and never did it again. Why do you think I come over at their place instead of just hanging out here, huh, __? Even when we didn’t verbally agree on not having sex around this place, I thought it would be a goddamn principle. Heck,” He looks somewhere and scoffs, “Mingyu didn’t even know I’m your roommate. What did you tell him?”

You open your mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing comes.

Because you realize in the middle of his outburst that… he’s right.

The first time that you saw a woman coming out of his own room and Jungkook noticing your discomfort about it, he just stopped doing his… thing in the apartment. It wasn’t a verbal agreement, as per his words, but he’s right. It should have been a principle.

In the past two years you lived with each other – that was the only time he ever did it. It became an unspoken rule: don’t bring your hook-ups here. But you never really had to worry about that unspoken rule because you didn’t do one-night-stands often, and when you did hook up with people over the past two years, it was rare so it was easy to do it in their place.

It has become a norm for you that you don’t see other people here anymore except for your friends when they invite themselves over – but you aren’t aware that Jungkook’s apparently making an active choice to specifically not hook up in here this whole time.

Coupled with the fact that you didn’t tell Mingyu about him being your roommate and him being caught up with your argument earlier – you feel a sense of guilt. A huge one at that.

But the stubborn part in you thinks that Mingyu’s different. He’s not a mere hook-up. He’s your boyfriend now! Couldn’t that be an exemption to the rule that’s unspoken in the first place?

“I…” you trail off, scolding yourself internally for not forming a coherent thought faster than you’d like.

When you don’t follow it up with anything, Jungkook takes his plate with him, turning on his heels away from you.

“See you at work.” He says, but it’s sarcastic and clipped.

Jungkook leaves one piece of bread for you though – just like he always does. And you take that as a sign that he’s not all that mad at you.

… Maybe?

You stand there in the middle of your kitchen island like some stupid stoned individual, going over the things that happened for the past – what – twenty minutes? You don’t even fucking know. Your wall clock in the living room had run out of battery, and your brain is too occupied with messy thoughts scattered all around you can feel a headache coming.

One thing’s for sure, though: you’re in the wrong. With Mingyu and with Jungkook. And you need to make it right somehow.

PART TWO | PART THREE

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

I Want You to Stay (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels (What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim-inspired); angst, drama, fluff, smut

Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Word count: 261.3k

Status: Complete

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Inspiration: Stay by Mikky Ekko

A/N: Hiii I am BAAACK! 🫡 This story is finally seeing the light of day after 3 years. I feel a little rusty, especially this being my first new JK series in 1.5 years! But it's also been a bit rough getting back into writing (and in Tumblr) after so long and after the year that was, so there won't be a schedule for chapter releases and I'll probably be a lot slower than usual. I wasn't sure if I was gonna go back to writing but I realized that I've missed interacting with you guys and screaming about stories so I do hope you give this some love. Fair warning that it's a really slow burn and some scenes are reminiscent of k-dramas. There are also sensitive and triggering topics so please proceed with caution!

And lastly, my biggest love and deepest gratitude to @wonwoonlight who's been the sweetest and loveliest person to talk to about everything, including this story. 🫶🏼 I give her credit for her amazing photos of Seoul (check moodboard) and for being the playlist manager. Please send her love as well!💕

Season 1 -> Playlist 🎶: on the way home

Episode 1 (wc: 12k)

Episode 2 (wc: 11.9k)

Episode 3 (wc: 14.8k)

Episode 4 (wc: 11.4k)

Episode 5 (wc: 14.8k)

Episode 6 (wc: 14.6k)

Episode 7 (wc: 15.4k)

Episode 8 (wc: 17.4k)

Episode 9 (wc: 18.4k)

Episode 10 (wc: 20.6k)

Episode 11 (wc: 23.5k)

Episode 12 (wc: 24.7k)

Episode 13 (wc: 29k)

Episode 14 - End (wc: 32.8k)

Season 2 (??)

how jjk men would react if they found out you sh…

Warning(s): cw//self harm, graphic depictions, mentions of depression, anxiety, sensitive content, angst/comfort

-> if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc., know that you aren’t alone. as someone who used to struggle with these things myself, i understand how difficult it can be, but know that you are strong and you are loved. and thank you for the ask, this is a very important topic and i appreciate the vulnerability of the request. sending all the possible love in the world to all of you.

gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

satoru gojo: satoru has an incredible sense of sight, thanks to his gift of the six eyes, as well as very keen observation skills. he picks up on little habits you harbor very quickly during the beginning of your relationship. you always choose to wear long-sleeved clothing, even when it’s warm, and you tug at your sleeves as though you are desperately trying to conceal a certain part of yourself from the outside world, from him. he doesn’t understand why at first. the thought crosses his mind that you just aren’t comfortable in sleeveless clothing, but you’ve shown him pictures of yourself from a decade ago when you’d wear variations of different tank tops, short sleeves, and more. he doesn’t understand what changed somewhere along the line. perhaps your sense of style has shifted? maybe you don't like your arms? (he can't understand how because he finds them to be the most gorgeous arms he's ever seen).

but no, something is nagging at him in the back of his head, churning the contents of his gut as though there is something he needs to know, to see that you were hiding, and when the moment unveiled itself, he instantly saw. 

you’re in your kitchen while satoru watches you from the other side of the island, leaning over and gazing at your movements with a soft smile. his blue eyes scattered across your body, admiring you while simultaneously searching for any clue, any answer to his hovering questions.

“where’d i put the containers,” you murmur to yourself in the midst of making lunch for the week, moving about your space rather slowly. 

satoru offers his own help, pointing a slender finger over to the space above your head. “did you check that cabinet?” he asks.

you turn over your shoulder and quirk your brow. “oh, do you live here now? suddenly know where everything is?” you ask playfully, a small smile rising to your lips as satoru chuckles. 

“not yet,” he winks. “but i sure am working on it, though. you know i have to make myself familiar with the space in case we share it someday.”

“is that so?”

“or, of that doesn't work out you could always live with me. i’d love to have you.”

“we’ve been together for three weeks, satoru.”

“yeah, but what does that matter when it comes to loveeee,” he pouts and you giggle, shaking your head as you turn back to reach for the cabinet. you stand on your tiptoes and reach out, sleeve of your sweet draping down to your elbow.

satoru is quick to his feet to help you, though you’re more than capable, when he catches the sight of what looks like a scar streaking over the inside of your wrist. his face falls and his brows angle, marching over to you quickly with a look of urgency on his face.

you don’t register how fast he is moving until you feel him behind you. you turn and look up, caught off guard by the way his eyes had hardened and his pupils shrank. your hand stalls on the cabinet handle, the scars on your arm completely slipping your mind momentarily.

“satoru? you okay?”

he doesn’t answer, grasping your wrist in his hand gently and pulling it down from above you. your eyes flicker up to the movement, and when you realize what is happening, your heart sinks. your eyes go wide and you try to tug your arm away, but satoru’s grip tightens slightly, extending your arm by your wrist to display the inside of your forearm before him. 

he thinks his vision is blurring over, his heart ringing in his ears, his breaths quickening as his eyes detail over the row of rigid scars lining from your inner elbow up to your wrist. his world collapses around him, lips stretching into a disbelieving grimace as his wild eyes survey the damage. some of those scars look newer than others, scabbing over with specs of purple, while the others are far older. 

you panic, trying to tug away again, but satoru’s grip on you is too secure. a lump forms in your throat as you search for things to say, anything to say that could take your boyfriend’s attention away, that could excuse the sight before him as something else. “s-satoru, wait-” you stammer, your voice weaker than you had intended it to be. 

satoru looks like he can’t hear you, nose flaring as he stares, and stares, and stares, and suddenly, your vulnerability is bare naked before him, on display for him to judge, to belittle, to curl his brows at and determine as pathetic and weak. you can feel yourself about to cry already, shaken by this sudden attention.

“satoru,” you whisper, arm trembling within his grasp.

“what is this?” he breathes out so quietly, his voice betraying himself and hardly reaching over a brush through the wind. when you do not answer, those pained eyes are on you, tormented by the sight he has just witnessed. “(y/n), what is this?”

you feel small, avoiding his eyes and looking all over the floor. “i- it’s nothing,” you murmur.

“nothing?” he repeats, as though he has been burned by your response. the white haired man quickly seeks out your other wrist, reaching down to your other side as you try to turn away, but he, of course, manages to seize it and extend it like your other arm and roll up that sleeve. the same row of scars litter your beautiful skin.

satoru’s a mess, frightened, confused, devastated. this is what you had been hiding from him all this time? “this isn’t fucking nothing, (y/n), they’re all over you! what did you do?”

you still can’t respond, you can’t muster up an excuse, you can’t do anything. satoru’s concern is far too overbearing, his gaze too intense, and his hold on you too secure. it feels like he has you laid out on a slab before him, stripped of your clothes as he examines your body with contempt.

he’s disgusted. he’s ashamed, you think. 

amid his grief, he catches the terrified look in your eye, your lips tugged downward as if to prevent yourself from crying. you look so scared.

how could he have not seen this sooner, that you’re hurting? that you’re hurting yourself? 

“baby, what did you do?” he repeats, softer this time as he leans down to look at you, your body trembling in his hold. his thumbs graze your inflamed skin, hesitant to touch you for fear that you may break.

“please don’t,” you breathe out in a huff, voice wobbling as you scrunch your eyes closed. “please, don’t look. just forget you saw it, please.”

“forget i-?” satoru has to stop himself from lashing out poorly, from allowing his emotions to overcome him in what he understands is clearly your moment of need. “how could you ask me to do something like that? (y/n), your arms, baby!”

“satoru, please-” you shake your head. you want to shrink away, to hide, to vanish into thin air. “i don’t wanna talk about it. please.”

“(y/n),” he exhales, closing his eyes to gather himself. “(y/n),” he repeats softly, hands releasing your wrists slowly and sliding up your arms to delicately hold your shoulders. “we can’t not talk about this. you have to tell me what’s been going on. you have to, baby, you have to understand how scared I am right now. help me understand. let me help you, let me take on whatever burden you’re carrying, please, I’ll do anything as long as it means you’re not hurting yourself.”

his hands move to your neck, cupping over the skin as he ducks his head down to look at you more clearly. 

“i can’t stand the thought that you’ve been- and i haven’t-” satoru was stumbling now, throat straining as the urge to cry rose. “why didn’t you come to me? i’m right here for you, (y/n), i always have been. why didn’t you tell me?”

“...it’s embarrassing,” you manage to say, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking. you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes peering into you even with your own eyes closed. “didn’t want you to see… I didn’t wanna be a burden.”

satoru’s heart is breaking for you, hurt that you could even think of yourself as a burden to him. “have i- have i done or said anything to you to make you feel that way?” he asks genuinely, and you cringe, turning your head to the side to open your eyes.

“no, of course not.”

“then why would you think that, baby?”

you shrug helplessly, tears welling into your eyes. satoru sees you, all of you, his heart thrumming to capture the pain you feel and to lift it from your chest, to help you breathe even just a little bit. he releases a weighted sigh, one of sadness, of love, of heartache for you, and he’s pulling you into him as your arms dangle limply at your sides. 

you scrunch your eyes and immediately break down into him, sobbing into his shirt as his warm hands wash over your frame and cradle your head to him, the muscles in his face tight with anguish. he holds onto you like he’s horrified that you will fade away within his arms. 

“i’m just so tired, toru,” you cry into his chest, dampening the fabric of his shirt. “i’m sorry.”

satoru doesn’t respond, afraid that if he speaks, he’ll end up crying too. you’re his girl, his beautiful, loving girl, and the fact that you have done such harm to yourself is incomprehensible to him. if you love him so, how can you hate yourself enough to have done this?

“how long?” is all he can ask you, breath heaving into your hair and ear. you hesitate, for he already seems so wounded by his discovery. “tell me.”

“...two years…”

he’s crushed. how did he not see sooner? how could he have been so blind after having bragged about being able to see everything so clearly? how could he have left you like this?

he holds you tighter, digging his head into the crook of your neck and hunching over, your eyes now seeing over the curve of his broad shoulder. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes to you in turn, fingers curling into your hair as he holds your scalp. “i'm sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing to you since the entire thing is your fault. satoru has a tendency to take on your emotions, piling them onto his own weight of carrying the title of the strongest. you never understood why he did so naturally and willingly, and why even now as you stood limply in his arms, he’s crying for the things you did to yourself.

he pulls away with shiny red eyes, gazing down into your shiny red eyes and tear stained cheeks. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. he hates that such beauty has been suffering in so much silence.

“(y/n), I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. please don’t- don’t keep doing this to yourself. if you’re hurting, come to me. hurt me if you have to lash out, but don’t hurt yourself beautiful.”

“i would never even think of hurting you, satoru.”

“then don’t think of doing it to yourself,” he says firmly, and you press your lips together. 

“…i-i don’t know how to… to stop,” you mumble, and he’s taking your hands in his and kissing them gently.

“i’ll help you. we can get you help, baby, I promise. just promise me, please,” he begs you, holding your hands close to his heart. “you come to me when you feel like doing that, okay? you come to me. and I’ll do whatever I can. let me help you. let me be there for you. i won’t let you push me out, (y/n).”

you're crying again, tears streaking over your face as satoru’s love captures you within his words, within his warmth as he forces you to understand that you are not alone, and never will be. 

satoru kisses your hands again. his lips reach your cheek, and his hand comes to tuck your head into his shoulder again, holding you and telling you that you have him to go to when your world grows dark.

geto suguru: if suguru could sum you up into one word, he would say that you're his universe.

everything in his life he does for the sake of you and his girls, for the sake of keeping you safe and making you happy. your happiness and your comfortability are the only things that suguru prioritizes above all else, making them his very goal to serve each and every day.

suguru's not the most stable, you know that and he knows that himself. he has his off days, where he falls quiet and the world around him numbs itself and the noise becomes a muffle in his ears until you step into view, giving him a smile and wrapping his big frame up in your small arms, your voice whispering to him and breaking through the fog. you're his sanctuary. you're his safe place, and he loves you so much. he owes his entire life to you, therefore ensuring that you feel just as loved as you make him feel is very important to him.

so when he catches sight of the scars on your stomach one day by accident, when you lift up mimiko to sit on your shoulder as nanako jumps up for you to pick her up to, and her shoe kicks up your shirt from your waist momentarily, suguru freezes.

are you hurt? did someone do this to you? did you do this to yourself?

countless thoughts are racing through suguru's mind as he stares at you in a daze, watching you laugh so joyfully along with the girls as though no trouble plagues you.

but there is. you've just been hiding it. hiding it far too well.

his mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day, unsure of if he had been imagining things or not. he knows you so well, or at least he thinks he does. how have you been hiding those marks littering your lower abdomen? how had he missed them?

he thinks back to the moments you two were intimate and recalls that you never wanted to remove the tanktop you wore or let him kiss further than your ribs. he recalls the days you all went to the beach and you kept a white shirt over your swimsuit or elected to wear a onepiece. he recalls how quickly you change when he's with you, your back turned to him as you rush to throw something on over your upper body.

the signs... they're all there. you've been hiding yourself from him, but why? what have you been doing? have you truly been harming yourself, or is that thought a trick of suguru's worst fears?

he tries to keep himself calm around you and the girls for the remainder of the day until they are put to sleep and the two of you are alone again.

you sit on the edge of your shared bed, rubbing lotion over your arms with your back facing suguru again. he watches you carefully, back resting against the headboards and hazel eyes trained on your figure as though you aren't real.

he waits for the proper moment, waiting for you to crawl up and curl under his side, his arm subconsciously wrapping over your waist as your head lays on his chest. he stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking as weighty silence overcomes you, then he's cautiously speaking.

"(y/n)?"

the soft call of your name brings your head up to peer at him curiously, blinking innocently. he turns down to look at your face and his heart clenches. while he knows that he knows what he saw, he doesn't want to believe it. he doesn't want to think that you, such a selfless and caring person for him, would hurt yourself.

you hum up at him, wondering what he has called you for. you see the pensive look in his face, the subtle knit in his brow as he stares at you, gears in his head turning. "yeah sugu?" you say gently.

he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. he doesn't want the confirmation, but he needs to know.

"i want to ask you a question..." he says, and you grow slightly befuddled.

"...okay?" you start. "is it serious?"

"yeah, it is," he admits, and you suddenly grow nervous, immediately catching an idea of what this could be about. you don't like the look on his face, the way he appears so serious.

"...alright," you mumble, suddenly meek.

the black haired man stares for a few more moments, just looking at you, taking in your the features he feel so deeply in love with, the features that bring him comfort and peace. "i saw something earlier, when you were holding mimiko," he begins softly, thumb caressing your back to ease you into the conversation.

you feel your heart jolt anxiously, trying to keep a straight face so as to not give your nerves away, but knowing suguru, he could likely already tell that you're getting antsy.

you lift your head to look at him, hand resting over his chest, and his eyes follow you smoothly. his eyes are focused, lips in a firm line.

"your shirt lifted, and i saw your stomach. i saw some marks. a lot of them, actually," he says, and you still completely, like a deer caught in headlights. his hand presses gently into your back, trying to keep you present with him as his concerns grow worse when he sees you stiffen against him. he frowns, denial still taking hold of him. "(y/n), please tell me those aren't what i think they are," he sighs heavily.

you feel caught.

you knew that suguru would find out at some point or another, but that didn't make this moment any less horrifying for you. it's so quiet in your room, so isolating, no background noise of the girls giggling or the distant buzz of the tv to help weaken the intensity of this point in time. you feel like a spotlight is shining overhead, an audience awaiting eagerly for you to reveal your secrets to the crowd.

suguru sits up slightly, his calmness gradually shifting into terrified incredulity. your eyes are on his face but your gaze is elsewhere, far off. you look uncomfortable, stuck, and no explanation hits suguru's ears.

"(y/n)," he says your name again, looking desperately down at you. "tell me i'm wrong."

you wish you could, you really do, but you can't lie to suguru. he knows you too well, he loves you too much, and to lie to him would be like denying his understanding of who you are.

you feel your skin flush with shame and anxiety, heartbeat likely loud enough for your boyfriend to hear.

you worry. you worry about your boyfriend's judgment, for his reaction. is he going to be angry with you?

"hey," he snaps you out of your daze with the drag of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes as he stares at you helplessly. you look at him and frown, ashamed that you are the reason he looks so pained. "what's going on?"

the question comes out so delicately, it makes your heart break. a whisp of understanding blends into his tone with empathy, yet a crushing sense of sadness and guilt that overpowers the aforementioned emotions. you struggle to look him in his kind eyes, dreading his consolation that you feel you don't deserve.

"talk to me, (y/n)."

you chew angrily on the inside of your lip, looking down at your finger as you pick at his shirt. he watches your brows furl, an array of different feelings capturing your features. "i was gonna tell you about it..." you murmur, and suguru is floored.

"what?" he breathes out as though he has no more air. you wince, lowering your head. "you-" he pauses, mind jumping from one place to another. "you did that to yourself?"

"i'm sorry, i-" you can feel your throat growing tight. "i've been trying to-"

"to stop?" he tries to finish for you, grasping for any kind of explanation. he's devastated, not only because you've been harming yourself, but because you've been so busy looking after him and the girls that he hasn't noticed. you're the one who always comforts him, but while you've been doing that, you've been aching on the inside and trying to hide it.

you nod meekly when he concludes for you. "i just- i thought the feelings would go away, so i didn't say anything, but they're just getting worse and i don't know what to do anymore and i only feel better after i..."

"(y/n)," he stops you gently, his heart shattering upon listening to you ramble, spilling out the things you have been holding onto for what he assumes to have been so long. "you've been dealing with this all this time?"

"...it's on and off," you confess. "some days are better than others, but..."

suguru finds your words familiar, for he often finds himself in the exact same mindset; feeling functional and confident some days, and others, not so much, but you're the reason why he's able to handle his bad days, yet he hasn't been the same for you for as long as the two of you have been together.

he feels almost sick. he loves you to death. you're his everything, but you've been in pain, and he hasn't seen it.

the way he's looking at you now makes you feel guilty, remorseful, embarrassed. you know you should have told him, but you could never find the strength to. you had always been too scared. and the longer you self-harm, the less you are willing to admit to yourself and to your boyfriend that you have a problem.

you're shocked, though, when suguru's hands tighten over you and his face grows bitter, not with you but with himself. "how could i have been so stupid?" he grumbles, distraught. "and so selfish? all this time, you-"

"no, suguru, please, it's not your fault," you try to tell him.

"i should have seen, baby, i should have noticed something sooner. and all this time, instead you've been looking after me when i should have been looking after you."

"don't say that, suguru," you shift, looking sadly into his eyes. "it's my fault. i'm the one who did this, i'm the one who's to blame. i'm the stupid and selfish one, not you."

suguru's frown deepens, sad eyes looking over your face. you blame and belittle yourself just as easily as suguru does, and he can't stand it. he can't stand to see you like this, to be so aware of hurt before him. he wants, no, he needs to take all that pain away from you. he needs to exorcize it, rid your body of it, cast it away so that you can be happy from now until the rest of time. he needs you to be okay.

"i swear on my life, (y/n)," he begins firmly, eyes boring straight into yours, holding your cheek. "i will do everything in my power to get you through this. whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, i will be here for you. you're not alone, you understand? you don't need to pretend for me. the girls love you- god i love you so fucking much, and i can't stomach to think of the times you've suffered in silence for my sake. i'm no good if you're no good, baby. i need to know these things, i need to be able to help you."

your nose twitches and your jaw clenches as you look into him, breathing growing unstable. suguru has always been so generous and so loving. he has a way with his words and how safe they make you feel even during your worst moments.

"but what if i can't do it, sugu?" you whisper, his thumb catching the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. "what if i'm not strong enough to get better?"

"you are strong enough," he affirms confidently. "more than strong enough. and when you feel weak, lean on me. but you have to promise me something."

you nod slowly, mutely, keeping his gaze as he stares at you lovingly, wistfully.

"promise me you won't do it," his words come out as a quick, hasty breath. his brows curl further upward, his desperation plain on his pretty face. "promise me you'll let me know as soon as you want to, but don't hurt yourself again, (y/n). don't do it. i'm begging you. you don't deserve that pain."

though you are unsure if you can even make that promise to yourself, you force yourself to try. for suguru's sake. "okay," you mumble, and he sighs, kissing you softly and pulling you to his chest to whisper sweet nothings as his hands soothe over your stomach and your back.

nanami kento: you twist your fingers around each other as you sit in the living room while kento cooks in the kitchen. you're nervous, more nervous than you have been about anything in your entire life, but you know that you need to rip off this bandaid to approach your boyfriend about such a serious matter.

recently, you find yourself returning to the old habit that you believed to have been relinquished. you thought that you had gotten better, that the urge to self harm had completely gone away after having spent so much time in therapy trying to heal, but recently, you've been feeling down again, useless, angry with yourself. you didn't want to tell nanami at first because you didn't think that your current mood would go beyond feeling depressed, but now that you've started scratching away at your thighs and your arms again, you know that you need to let him know what's going on. you know that you can't go on like this anymore.

but you have no idea what to say.

nanami has been nothing but doting toward you, bringing you flowers every morning, making your meals, ensuring that you remember to schedule doctor's appointments or to keep yourself warm when it's cold out- the man's life revolves around your comfortability, and while you know he would be far more offended if you keep this to yourself, you're horrified to see his reaction when you tell him that you relapsed.

nanami is well aware of your past difficulties with your mental health, and he always tells you that if you are ever in a dark space again, he needs to know. even so, he hasn't been with you when you're like this. the two of you got together after the multiple therapy visits that helped you to shift mindsets, so now that you feel this way again, and while in a relationship with nanami no less, you feel petrified.

you don't even notice when he rounds the kitchen counter to make his way over to the dining table, setting down two plates of food. he looks over and catches the way you stare ahead blankly, lost in thought. you've been doing a lot of that lately and he wonders if something is wrong.

nevertheless, he knows that if something is bothering you, you'll tell him. "sweetheart, dinner's ready," he calls out, and you snap your head over to him, his voice bringing you out of your daze.

you stand wordlessly, movements somewhat robotic, as you slowly make your way over to the table. "thanks, ken," you say softly, lacking your usual energy, and at this point, your partner knows for certain that something is off.

he watches you carefully as you sit down, pushing in your seat for you and pecking your forehead before sitting down next to you. "tell me how your day was," he starts, brushing off his hands and reaching one out to rest one on your knee as he always did at the table. he's prying, you can tell, trying to learn if something that happened throughout the day affected your mood.

your heart is hammering loudly, your eyes stuck to the plate and unable to look up at him. "it was okay," you respond.

"just okay?" he questions and you nod slowly. "did something happen?"

you flicker your eyes up to his brown ones suddenly, caught off guard by the question. he sees the questioning in your eyes and replies accordingly.

"you seem to be a little off, this evening, that's all."

you hum, unsure of how to respond to his observation. you look away again, contemplating. just say it, you think. just tell him, just get it over with.

as you struggle against yourself, nanami only grows more concerned. you don't confirm or deny his comment, and the way you turn away has him wondering if he's done something to hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, darling?" he asks.

you furrow your brows and quickly shut down the idea. "no, no. not at all, ken. it's nothing you did."

"then... there is something troubling you?"

you stall a bit more now that you're on the spot, cursing the fact that kento is always so quick to pick up on the smallest changes in your demeanor.

"(y/n)?" he calls you when you don't answer.

"i have to tell you something," you say abruptly. you see nanami's brows raise ever so slightly, soft brown eyes looking over your face in an attempt to read the situation before you tell him anything. "it's... a lot. so i need you to just... bear with me. and please don't be mad."

nanami's brow twitches slightly as he looks at you, head tilting. he grabs the bottom of his chair and shuffles it closer to you, leaning over slightly and running his hand over where it resides on your knee.

"i could never be mad at you," he tells you earnestly, as though it's the most honest thing he's said in the world. "what's the matter, my love?"

god, he's so sweet to you it makes you physically ill that you have to break this news to him.

"...do you remember when we talked about... um..." your voice fades off, nanami's concentrated gaze only making you more nervous for what his reaction will be.

"take your time," he encourages you, and you only feel worse.

you return to chewing on the inside of your lip anxiously, picking at your shirt under the table. the blonde man beside you is ever so patient, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you verbalize them.

"...um...it's.... about what we talked about a while ago..."

"...and that would be regarding?"

"my... past."

nanami furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. "i apologize, honey, what about your past?"

just rip the bandaid. just rip the bandaid.

"my past with self-harming," you rush out, and the weighty silence that follows is enough to make you want to sink into the floor and let it swallow you whole.

you can feel his eyes burning into you, processing what you just told him, and all you can hear is the pound of your heart in your ears as his hand stills upon your knee.

nanami, on the other hand, is completely shocked by your revelation. while he understands that your relapsing has always been a very realistic possibility, he never wanted to entertain the idea that it could very much so happen- at least, not while he's around.

a sense of fear grips him. are you going to tell him that you relapsed? have you already hurt yourself? has he failed to be there when it happened??

"did you-" he doesn't know what he wants to ask, or how. he hates that he is already jumping to conclusions, but the way you are structuring this conversation with him only leads him to believe the worst. "what happened?"

your head hangs low and your fingers taut on your shirt, lips tightening as they press together. you can hear the disbelief in his voice already, and it breaks you.

"i relapsed."

the brown-eyed man clenches his jaw, falling completely silent once more to not react in a way that may worsen your state. you feel his hand tighten into a fist over top of your leg as he lowers his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and inhaling sharply. you feel like a child who is awaiting punishment as you look at his hunched state, a million questions of what he will do next running through your mind.

you hate to do this to him. nanami already has so much on his plate, you know this is the last thing he needs to be stressing over. you wish you could be okay for him. it's not his fault that your mind takes you to these places, and you don't want him to bear responsibility as though it is his doing. even so, you already know that he will because that's the type of man kento is. that's the type of boyfriend kento is.

you wait a few more moments in unbearable muteness. after what feels like forever, kento lifts his head again and rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on his knee. he's looking to the side, deep in anguished thought. he no longer looks surprised, but rather guilty and frustrated. "when?" is the first thing he asks.

"yesterday," you answer dejectedly, and he almost jerks, his body twitching in reaction. "...are you mad?"

nanami looks at you and his hardened expression immediately softens into something melancholy. "no- no, of course not, (y/n), no," he shakes his head as if the notion is unfathomable, releasing his fist to cup your knee again more securely. "i will never be angry with you for what you're going through. never. no, i'm not mad."

you nod quickly, a meek sense of relief and sorrow taking over you, a weight heaving from your chest upon letting it out. "okay," you whimper.

"come here, my darling," he coaxes you softly, opening and grabbing your hand from under the table delicately to lead you to stand over him. his hand guides over the small of you're back once you're up, leading you to sit on his lap with your back pressed against the table and your legs dangling over one side of his chair.

he holds your forearms gently, looking up at you with sad, understanding eyes. "are you comfortable showing me?" he murmurs so intimately, easing you into his warm consolation.

you don't nod or answer him verbally. instead, you wordlessly roll up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal angry red scratch lines running up your inner forearm. nanami's lips curl in pain as though he can feel the sting of your scars, holding your arm gently for him to look over it.

the sight kills him, though he tries to keep his cool. this isn't about him, it's about you, but goodness, the image of the scars on your beautiful skin makes him hurt like no other pain he's experienced.

"is this all of it?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"there's some on my thighs," you mutter, looking down.

he nods. "alright," he sighs. "alright."

"...i know you have so much on your plate already... i just-"

"don't. don't even," he stops you, eyes still roaming over your irritated skin. nanami usually commends himself for remaining collected in times of crisis, but he's desperately fighting a part of him that wants to yell out and cry for the sake of you.

he imagines you struggling with this on your own, long before he came into your life, and the thought makes him cringe to picture just how far this must have gotten. these scratches he is surveying now already look bad enough. were the other ones worse?

"(y/n), you know this isn't okay," he looks up at your face and sees how you are avoiding his eyes. you look so small compared to how you usually carry yourself, and it kills him. "to harm yourself like this... you can't treat yourself this way, darling, you know you can't."

"i know," you mumble. "i just had a moment, and now i'm scared that- that i'll go back to how things were."

"as long as i'm with you, you won't. i promise you that," nanami swears. "it was just this one time since you last?"

you nod. "yeah..."

"okay," he nods once more, convincing himself that this is something he can help stop before it gets any more out of hand. "why'd you do it this time, my love? what were you thinking that led you here? is there something i can do differently? is it work? is it a combination of things?"

"i wish it were that easy to explain, kento," you frown, glancing up at him helplessly. "but it's just... it's just a feeling i can't put into words. i can't pinpoint the source. i just... one minute i felt like i couldn't breathe, and the next i was..."

"okay," he repeats, letting you know that you no longer need to say anything more. you don't have to revisit it. he understands. he will take care of it. he'll help you. "okay, darling. how about this. i call off of work tomorrow and we can sit and talk about seeing a new therapist. then we can go out and do whatever you want. just for fun. does that sound okay with you?"

your nose flares and your lips tug to the side as you nod, truly not comprehending how you managed to find a man so patient with you. "yeah, that's good," you say softly, and nanami is at least relieved that you are willing to take further steps into a better direction.

"good," he whispers, rolling the sleeve of your sweater back down so that you no longer feel exposed or feel like you have to think any more about the things you did to yourself when you felt alone. "it's alright, my love. we'll get through it. you'll get past this just like you did last time," he encourages you, moving to caress your shoulder lovingly as you hold his gaze. "it's okay," he tells you again, and you nod weakly, leaning over to plop your head against his shoulder.

nanami holds you to him and exhales, food completely forgotten. his only priority now is to be there for you in the ways he could not before the two of you met.

"thank you for telling me."

choso kamo: choso worships the ground you walk on because he can not fathom a world without, nor the fact that you happened to stumble into his life on a whim. to imagine you hurt is the very worst thing that the man can think of, and the notion that you would hurt yourself is beyond his comprehension.

you aren't actively trying to hide any of your scars when he finds them. the scars are old, faded reminders of the pain that you used to endure and how you attempted to cope with it. while you are now six months free of self harming, the scars remain very present.

choso happens to catch sight of your scars when you are getting changed. he's sitting at the edge of your bed, face flushed, as he watches you blissfully change out of your pajamas and into clothes that you feel are best suited for a walk to the ice cream shop that choso has proposed. it's a bright sunday afternoon, and the brunette is eager to take advantage of the weather with the woman he holds close to his heart as well as his baby brother, who the two of you intend to meet at the store.

you're now dressed in nothing but a large white shirt and underwear, your legs bare as you strut around the space freely. choso's jade eyes follow you as you walk, completely obsessed with the way you move. he could watch you do the most mundane things for hours, which he truthfully tends to do anyway.

your back is to him before you round the bed, disappearing into the bathroom momentarily before coming back into the living room. choso's eyes still don't leave you, tracing over your face down your figure and finally to the front of your bare legs.

he falters, and his brows draw together when he catches dark marks littering over your inner thighs, only revealing themselves with the movement of your limbs as you walk.

the pale-skinned man grows confused and slightly concerned. he's never seen those marks on you before, and simultaneously, never on anyone else he knows either. he finds them to be a strange form of battle scars, especially due to the placement, the small size, and the sheer number of them. some of them take different shapes too, blurring together or over each other, while some stand out alone. they almost look like burns, but it's hard for choso to really tell.

you proceed about your business, searching through your drawer to pull out a skirt, when choso speaks up.

"love? what are those?" he asks curiously, perplexed.

you turn over your shoulder, shutting your drawer closed with your foot. "hm? what's what, cho?" you ask him, unsure of what he's referring.

choso, still slightly flustered by the vision of your half exposed body, nods his head into the direction of your lower legs. "those," he says again, and you look down, still lost.

you lift your foot momentarily, checking to see if something is stuck under or on top of it. you then survey the rest of your body, searching for something out of the ordinary. "uhhh," you trail off. "i'm not sure what you mean, baby. you're talking about my legs?"

you are far too desensitized to and familiar with the image of your scars to process that choso has never seen them before. the brunette, however, is unsatisfied, wanting an answer that you have yet to provide.

he leans forward, lifting his hand and pointing his finger directly to a patch of dark spots peeking out from your inner thighs. you follow his gaze, eyes landing on the culprits, and your shoulders drop in realization. "oh," you say shortly, choso retracting his hand.

he looks at you innocently, awaiting a response while you try to figure out how to explain this sight to him.

you don't want to worry him, but knowing choso, if you lead with the fact that these scars are there because you inflicted them onto yourself, he would have a heart attack, failing to find reason to your words.

even so, you know choso only wants to understand you as much as you desire to understand him. he wants to see the ugly parts as well as the beautiful parts of you that he is so drawn to, and if you hide it from him, that would only create a rift in your budding relationship that you aren't entirely too keen on creating.

you want him to know you, all of you, and these scars are as much of a part of you as the bones in your body and the blood pumping through your skin.

they're a sign of what you've been through, what you've overcome, and who you are now. they're important, and choso should know why they are there.

"that's a good question," you sigh, putting your skirt on the bed as you move to sit next to him at the edge of it. choso immediately turns to you, glancing over the marks shamelessly now that he has a better view of them.

"did someone do that to you?" is the first thought that crosses his mind, red drifting into his vision at the mere idea that someone has hurt you in such an intimate way.

"...no," you shake your head, lifting one leg up onto the bed, brushing his own, as the other dangles. "i put them there. a while ago," you explain honestly.

choso scrunches his brows tighter, eyes flickering up to your face then back down to try to identify what exactly the marks are. "what are they?" he repeats.

you exhale, puckering your lips as you prepare yourself for this difficult conversation. "they're burns, cho. from a match," you tell him.

now, the half-curse is incredibly confused. burn marks? on your lovely skin? in a place where only you could reach? put there by yourself?

you burned yourself?

"i don't understand," he frowns, shifting to face you better. "why would you..."

"i used to be in a really bad place, baby," you purse your lips, watching as his face contorts with consternation as he comes to understand that you purposefully harmed yourself.

"what do you mean? bad enough to do this to yourself?" he sounds mortified, his voice growing ragged the moment his tone picks up volume.

his pupils, moments ago blown pools of affection, are now shrunken dots of shock.

"don't look at me like that," you beg him, placing your hand over his own. his eyes snap to the sudden contact, then back to you with concern. "sometimes, when certain people are suffering from depression, or anxiety, or just overall bad thoughts and they feel like they have to... break out, or maybe punish themselves in a sense... they resort to hurting themselves."

choso gulps, lump forming in his throat as he listens to you with shaking eyes. "and that's what you did? you felt like you needed to punish yourself?"

"it's hard to explain to someone on the outside. i know it sounds... crazy, but it was the only way i knew how to cope with everything that i was dealing with."

"why didn't you come to me instead?" he immediately asks and you give him a sad, knowing look.

"because, we didn't know each other then, cho?"

"i don't care," he shakes his head, eyes keeping yours. "you should have found me."

the idea brings a hint of a smile to your lips, choso's sweetness warming your heart. "i didn't know who you were, baby, that would have been like begging a stranger for help."

"so?" he scoffs. "i loved you the moment i met you. it wouldn't have made any difference to me.

you sigh again, bringing your other hand to rest over top of your boyfriend's as you smile softly at him in an attempt to get him to calm down.

the panic is still written all over his face as he takes in your smile, the vision somehow only making him sadder. you're so gorgeous, inside and out, and that smile is only scratching the surface of your unending beauty.

to know now that your radiance was once outweighed by the torment in your mind encouraging you to harm yourself... well, it makes choso want to ball his eyes out. it makes him want to confront the physical manifestation of your past traumas and pummel it into the ground, bashing its head in for all the hurt that it has caused you.

"i ended up just fine, cho," you reassure him.

"why didn't you say anything before? were you trying to keep it from me?"

"no, baby, i just didn't think to tell you. i kinda forgot about them," you say, and that comment alone makes choso soften his features slightly.

"you forgot..." he recites your words. "does that mean you're better now?"

you hum in affirmation, smiling warmly. "it's been a while since i've hurt myself or done anything like that. i got through it. i'm okay now, these scars are just a permanent reminder of the past."

his frame sags slightly with relief, brows lifting as he looks over you with a blank expression. "i think i understand," he mumbles, looking back down at the marks. "i'm sorry you ever had to go through any of that."

"it's not your fault. you weren't there."

"i wish i had been. so i could have helped more. i know you said you're better, but maybe if i had been there i could've stopped you from hurting yourself at all."

"i wouldn't put that responsibility onto yourself, cho. it was my responsibility."

"still," his brows arch slightly. "i would have stuck with you every second of every day to make sure that you never had a second alone to do any of it. i wouldn't have let you, and i won't let you now." a thought seems to pop into his head when he finishes his last sentence. "you wouldn't go back to trying to hurt yourself, (y/n), would you?

you exhale. "i mean, i'd like to think i wouldn't, but sometimes these things aren't linear," you admit. "i just know that for now, i'm okay."

"the second you're not, though, you'd tell me?"

"yes. i would."

"you promise?"

"i promise, baby."

"okay," he sighs. "because i don't think i'd be able to function knowing you're upset."

the brown haired man leans over, carefully holding your thigh as he looks over your marks again, no longer flustered by your bare skin but entirely focused on the severity of your burns. you look down at him, hands slipping from his own as he surveys you closely like he's a doctor.

"they don't hurt anymore, do they?"

"nope. just scarred."

choso looks at you for a bit longer in silence before looking back up at you from his hunched state. "can i kiss them?"

you laugh softly, hand falling into his hair at you gaze at him with your heart aglow. "you want to kiss them?"

he nods. "so they can feel loved."

you coo, thumb smoothing over his temple as his eyes swell with adoration right before you. "of course you can."

toji fushiguro: toji is absolutely no stranger to scars. he's a human man with no cursed energy, having had his fair share of close calls on risky jobs that have left him with slashes over his calves, small pierces in his flesh, and cracked callouses. then, of course, there's the scar on his mouth bestowed upon him by his oh-so-loving family, which will be stuck with for the rest of his life.

scars follow toji like moths follow a flame, and he's numb to it. he believes that they are a part of life, both physically and mentally, especially with the kind of life that he leads. whether the wound is a large one or a small one he can barely see, he accepts scars as a part of who he is-

who he is.

while toji likes to parade around with a hardened exterior decorated with faded, scabbing wounds, that is something he deems fit for him and him only. he doesn't care what other people do with their lives as long as they leave him the hell out of it, but for the love of all the money that he has acquired over the years slaughtering sorcerers, he will be damned if he finds a single, tiny little scratch on your body.

scars are for toji, not for you, his darling little girlfriend and the day he finds out someone has hurt you enough to leave behind a mark is the day he's putting several bullets into the culprit's head.

toji's worst fear, though he hardly discusses it, is losing you and watching you get hurt. god, he practically lives to protect you, and to feel as though he has failed to do so would wound him detrimentally. he's a tough guy, but you make him so soft, and admittedly he wouldn't want to be soft for anyone but you. you're his rock, his little hot head, and he loves you more than life itself.

if you're hurt, he will lose it.

therefore, when he finds out that you're self-harming? oh, he's on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

he does a double-take when you step out of his room and into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your body, his eyes widening and his brows arching immediately.

now, toji knows your body inside and out. he's explored every inch, he knows every crook, every crevice, every mark, every texture, and he has never once in the six months you have been together seen the red lines over your inner wrist.

he watches you with twisted lips as you grab an orange from the counter before walking back into his direction. you're almost back into the room when toji calls you.

"uh uh," he stops you, and you pause, turning over your shoulder and purposefully moving your left wrist to press into your towel.

"what?"

"come here," he orders and you give him a strange look.

"why?"

"i wanna see somethin'. come here."

you're quick to snap back easily with your own sarcastic retort, clearly in a foul mood over something. "if you want to fuck, can you wait until i'm fully dried off and after i finish this?' you hold up the orange in your other hand, a perturbed look on your face.

"i don't want to fuck, (y/n), i want you to come here."

toji's voice comes out sternly, and on the verge of anger. you survey his posture, his arms leaning over his legs as he cranes to look at you with a suspicious, firm expression. you can tell that he's serious, and a sudden sense of fear overtakes you that you mask with annoyance.

you don't say a word when you slowly walk up to him, crossing your arms over your chest to conceal your wrist, the hand holding the orange tucked under your elbow.

"what is it?"

toji holds out his palm. "give it."

"...my orange?"

"put it in my hand."

you huff, carefully maneuvering your arm around to keep your inner wrist pointed toward your body as you bring forward the orange and plop it aggressively into his hand. toji watches your other arm the entire time, taking clear note of how you refuse to let your wrist show, and you know you're fucked.

the green-eyed man tosses the orange to the side of the couch and holds out his large palm again, eying you intensely. you look down at him with a frustrated frown, shrugging. "i don't have anymore oranges."

"don't be cute, doll."

"what? do you want my hand?"

"you know i want your hand."

you roll your eyes, raising the hand you had held your orange with when he stops you. "not that one. the other one."

your heart pangs, shaking your entire body as he looks to you expectantly. how the fuck had he managed to notice the scar on your wrist so quickly?

the moment you hesitate, he knows that what he saw earlier is something to be concerned about. you normally never hide yourself from toji, and the way you go about hiding your arm now is defensive enough to raise several brows. he knows you're not dumb, too. he knows that you know exactly what he wants to see.

"(y/n)." he cocks a brow, the severity of his demeanor only making you more uneasy.

he can't see. he can't see what you've just done. he'll hate you. he'll look at you like you're crazy.

"what if i don't want to give you my hand?"

"then i'll just grab it for you, and i don't think either of us wants to go there."

you release a trembling, aggravated breath. you can't get away with anything when toji's around, and while you ponder having chosen to get an orange later, you know deep down somewhere you wanted toji to see. you wanted him to help you, which is why you walked out of that bathroom half an hour after having put those scars on your arm.

"hand, now."

you turn your eyes away with a grunt, slapping your wrist into his hand facing downward. toji is quick to whip it upside once he has a grip on you, and his eyes seem to freeze over the sight of three fresh slices on your upper forearm up close.

his jaw clenches, then unclenches, then clenches and unclenches again as his lips twitch and his eyes adjust to the vision. you're hurt. not only are you hurt, but it looks as though you've recently been hurt. you've hurt yourself.

toji has a hard time figuring out what to do. he's not good with things like this, but he knows that seeing you with scars on your arm is quite literally about to set him off. he always imagined having to defend you from others who seek to hurt you, but never having to defend you from yourself.

he can't fathom it. he's struggling, the muscles in his eyes are twitching, and he can't handle it. he can feel his heart begin to race, unsure if he is angry or scared or mortified or devastated.

there are three lines in your arm. bright red. staring right back up at him.

and you put them there?

no way, you put them there.

but you did. clearly you did, or else you wouldn't be looking so guilty right now.

but when did you? how did you? why did you?

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to say. he swore he'd always protect you, but how does he even begin to try to protect you from yourself?

"are you out of your mind?"

the question leaves him rather calmly, a low inquiry that you are unsure is meant to be directed as an insult or a genuine ask.

you can't look at him. you don't even know what to think yourself. it had all happened so fast while you were in the bathroom, before you got into the shower.

one minute, you were staring angrily in the mirror, cursing your reflection as your wicked thoughts sprouted grubby arms and guided you toward the pair of brow scissors that you kept in your makeup cabinet on the left side of toji's bathroom.

you wanted to feel in control of the disdain you felt lurking within your soul. you wanted to feel something for fear that you would never be able to feel again, and before you knew it, you were dragging the exposed blade over your skin.

"d'you wanna explain why i'm looking at these cuts on your arm, (y/n)?"

and you know, you know that it's a bad sign when toji uses your name instead of the plethora of pet names he normally elects to call you: doll, princess, mama, girl, pretty baby- anything but your actual government name, and when you hear it roll from his tongue under these circumstances, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

you shift on your bare feet, looking down at your toes. "dunno," is all you say, and toji scoffs in disbelief.

"you don't know?" he emphasizes. "that's all you have to say?"

"if you wanna embarrass me, go ahead, toji. seriously, i'm tired."

"what the fuck makes you think i wanna embarrass you? i wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend walked out of the bathroom with cuts on her arm!"

you rip your arm away immediately when he yells, storming back off into his room and slamming the door behind you.

toji jumps up, suddenly frazzled. he doesn't want you alone in there. he doesn't want you out of his sight.

the navy haired man moves quickly to his door and grabs the handle, only to find it locked. he jiggles it harshly and bangs on the door. beginning to panic. "open the door, (y/n)," he shouts, meeting no reply.

little does he know, your back is pressed against the other side as tears crash over your cheeks. you don't know how you expected toji to react, but the look on his face just now and his tone of voice was enough to send you running off.

you feel ashamed, weak. you shouldn't have gone out there at all. you should have waited until you were dressed, discarding the whole idea of letting toji see what you did so that you could suffer in silence without his help, because what help could he truly provide anyway?

toji's a tough man, but he's soft for you. he would stand in front of a moving train for you. he would sacrifice his life for you, so when you don't answer, he imagines the worst.

"open the door," he says again, weaker, tugging desperately at the handle though he knows it won't budge. he knows he could break the door down, and he's prepared to until he hears you sniff amdist his pounding. he immediately stops, face dropping.

fuck.

this is bad.

he knew it was before, but for some reason, it's only now registering how bad this is.

you're in pain. you hurt yourself because you're in pain and you need him, but he doesn't know how to help you. he's never dealt with anything like this before.

his hand slides from the door and to his side, forehead knocking against the door though his other hand remains tight on the handle. he just needs to see you.

"princess," he mutters defeatedly. "don't make me kick this door in."

silence.

"please," he softens even more. "please, (y/n), let me in."

the house falls quiet once more and you give in. you feel so lost, and the only person who can at least comfort you, in his own way, is toji.

you slowly turn to unlock the door and step back as toji opens it swiftly, staring down at you with wide eyes and at least relieved to see that you haven’t done any further harm to your body.

he does, however, see your tears.

his face tightens as he bends down to scoop you up in an instant, your legs and arms tightening around him as you snivel into his shoulder, his large palms sliding over your body. he feels your small body tremble against him as he walks the two of you over to the edge of his bed, sitting down as you cling to him like a koala.

"i dunno what happened," you whimper into him. "i dunno why i did it. i dunno. i dunno."

you say it over and over, your voice as broken as toji feels listening to you.

he wishes he knew what to do. he wishes he was better equipped to handle this, but never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would find you here, his fiery girl, the love of his life.

he's been so busy trying to protect you from the outside world that he hasn't even thought about the things that could harm you from within.

he stays silent as you babble to him through tears, holding you just like he knew how. he doesn't want to picture those scars on you. he doesn't want to picture what led you to put them there. he just wants to hold you, to at least let you know that he's here and he's not going anywhere. he may not know how to help, but he knows how to love you and he hopes that's enough.

"i'm not letting you out of my sight, y'hear?" he says gruffly into your ear and you nod meekly. "i'm not letting this happen ever again. not as long as i'm alive."

he mentally swears to rid your house and his of any and every sharp object he can find and to throw it all in a safe as you sink into him.

toji knows how to protect and toji knows how to fight. though he's more acclimated with fighting others, if he has to fight to protect yourself from your innermost demons, then hell, he will find a way to do just that.

sukuna ryomen: lord help you and lord help anyone within a fifty-mile radius when the king of curses discovers that you've been harming yourself.

sukuna is not at all very good with his words or his expressions of affirmations. he is a being of action, and he believes that he has proven his love for you enough by simply allowing you to be in his presence longer than anyone else ever has or ever will.

at first, when he sees a scar or two on your leg, he thinks its just an accident or a result of you being clumsy. then, three more pop up, then five, then far more than he's even willing to count, and he decides that this scar pattern is somehow intentional.

he knows no one else has marked them onto you because he is prepared to kill anyone who comes too close, especially if they have ill intentions. if you were in danger at someone else's hand, he would be the first to know and the person meaning you harm would be dead before they could even think about touching you.

therefore, when he sees that the only person normally within your company is him, uraume, and yourself, the process of elimination leads him to you.

he goes about confronting you rather harshly, as well, for he knows no other way to be.

you're out in the garden of his large residence one day, soaking up the sun, when you hear familiar, loud stomps heading your way from behind.

you turn around and squint to peer up at sukuna, who is standing over you with a menacing glare in his crimson eyes. you don't necessarily find this out of the ordinary, so you greet him as usual.

"hi, kuna," you say sweetly. "you good?"

he is not good. not at all, so he gets straight to the point. "come inside, woman."

you quirk a brow. "why? i just got out here?"

"do not question me."

"can it wait, like, fifteen minutes?"

"do you wish to live in the next fifteen minutes?"

you sigh, entirely too used to sukuna's facade of cruelty around you. you know by now that the king of curses would never dare to hurt you.

"i do intend, to live, yes," you smirk.

"then you will come inside as i have demanded."

"no, sukuna. i want to stay out here for a bit. i've been inside all day."

the pink haired man fumes, teeth grinding together in agitation. he doesn't want to delay this conversation any further than it has already been delayed, but of course, you choose to be difficult.

"very well, we will do this out here," he growls and you smile.

"good."

you don't prepare yourself for when sukuna grabs the back of your chair and whips out around to face him with the unpleasant screech of the legs against the cobblestone. you wince, then retract your face when sukuna lowers his to stare at you from mere centimeters away, one of his arms grasping to push up the lose leg of your shorts up to reveal the set of scars littering your skin.

your eyes go wide, his movements too quick for you to process all at once.

"are these your doing?" he hisses and you gulp.

"s-sukuna-"

"i did not ask for you to say my name. i asked if these scars are your doing."

his eyes are piercing, striking directly into yours. "what are you talking about?" you whisper shakily.

"are we going to pretend like you're an idiot now?" he snarls. he's so mean, but he feels it's for good reason. your body has been tainted, and for some reason, you have been doing the tainting. he needs to know why.

you shake your head weakly. "no..."

"then answer me properly. i will not repeat myself a third time."

you bite down on your lower lip, heart ringing in your ears. you didn't even know sukuna paid attention to you enough to catch wind of something like this.

"yes... i did this," you finally tell him, and sukuna is livid.

"and why would you be doing something so foolish? scars are not something you are meant to give yourself, human."

"please don't be a dick, sukuna, not right now."

"i am asking a perfectly reasonable question and i expect you to answer it," he glowers. "now."

"you wouldn't understand if i told you," you frown and he clicks his tongue.

"stop assuming things of me before i lock you inside of my room where you can not escape or even fathom doing something like this to yourself again under my supervision."

you curl your brows, frowning up at your boyfriend. "if i tell you, you'll call me foolish."

"because this is foolish," he grunts. "but i will not if my doing so will get you to fucking explain yourself."

you shake your head, looking down and contemplating before deciding to just get it over with so that he can stop putting you on the spot. "sometimes i just feel shitty," is all you elect to say.

but sukuna is hardly satisfied with this response. "so you choose to inflict pain upon yourself instead of calling upon me?"

"i told you, you wouldn't understand," you say. "it's not something i can easily explain to you either."

sukuna narrows his eyes. "fine."

he lowers himself to grab you legs and throw you over his shoulder. you squeal, grabbing onto his back as he begins to walk you back into his home and toward his room. "sukuna!" you kick your legs around. "put me down!"

"no. you're coming with me, and you're going to sit and talk me through every single thought that has crossed your little mind to make you think that injuring yourself in such a way is tolerable within the walls of my residence. then after that, you'll come with me everywhere i go from this point on."

"what?!" you exclaim from where you hang upside down. "I don't wanna go everywhere you go," you wine.

"too bad. you should have thought of that before you decided to harm yourself."

sukuna is horrible with words, and far more horrible with expressing his concerns, but despite your temporary discomfort with how he goes about approaching the situation, you can still see in the pinch of his brow and the stiffness of his posture, combined with his refusal to let you go without a proper explanation, that he cares very deeply for your wellbeing.

SFW

🌸Word count: 7.5K words

🌸AU: Soulmates are bound by an invisible red thread tied around their pinkies. Only within close proximity with your soulmate for the first time does the red string become visible to the both of you. And cutting the thread would mean losing them as a soulmate, completely, and forever.

🌸Pairing: Mismatched Toji x reader couple (soooo fucking cute), age gap, SatoSugu

🌸A/N: I couldn't get over Soulmate!Toji so I wrote a prequel.....

Part 1, Part 2 >>

You were always so excited and curious to meet your soulmate. Since you were a kid, you’d fantasise ways you might meet your other half. You just never anticipated that your soulmate would be a man almost two times bigger than you. 

You remember the day you first saw him. You were staring up at him, sizing him up when you realised that your head only came up to his chest. His big muscles could probably crush you if he so much as touched you, you bet. And he looked at least a decade older than you. You’d always wondered how your soulmate would look like, but you had never imagined someone like him. 

“Um… Hi,” you squeaked softly. 

He didn't say anything as he continued staring at you. You swallowed and held up your pinky finger where a red thread was tied around. The other end was connected to his own pinky finger. 

You wondered what to say, and you nervously decided on, “Fancy seeing you here…?” 

You almost wanted to smack yourself. 

The man before you didn’t say anything and you briefly wondered if he might be mute. His facial expression never changed either, so you had no idea what he was thinking. Maybe he thought he had gotten the short end of the stick with you. 

He glanced behind you and noticed your friends watching the both of you animatedly, excited that you were the first of them to find your soulmate. The man returned his gaze back to you. He cleared his throat, then he spoke for the first time since you first noticed the searing hot sting on your last finger. 

“I’ll get your number and we’ll meet another day,” he mumbled. His voice was low and rough, kinda hot for an older man if you had to be honest. 

You blinked at his straightforwardness and his quick decision-making skills, both of which you lacked. You only got to be in shock for a few seconds before he held his phone out to you. You took it from him slowly, still in a daze from this whole situation. You keyed in your number and saved your name before handing it back to him. The man pocketed his phone and nodded at you. 

“I’ll call you.” You bobbed your head but you stayed staring at him. You saw a little frown between his brows. “Go back to your friends.”

“Oh, r-right!” you fumbled, taken aback and anxious from being chased away. “Well, um… okay,” you told him as you nodded your head, unsure of how exactly to say goodbye to your newly found soulmate. You took a small step back and gave him a little wave. “I’ll wait for your call…” You frowned here, totally forgetting if he had introduced himself. 

“Toji Fushiguro.”

“Bye bye, Toji.”

The second time you guys met was just as awkward. 

You were sitting there, blinking dumbly at the huge man opposite you. Toji stared back at you, his fingers playing with the condensation of his glass of whiskey. It had been five minutes since you were sat at the table, and it had also been silent between the both of you for just as long. You were gradually getting uncomfortable. You wondered how he could sit there without saying a word, the entire time just staring at you. You already felt like exploding with anxiety. 

You cleared your throat, just aching to break the silence though it looked like he could go on forever just watching you. “So, um… what do you do for work, Toji?” you asked nervously. 

He finally blinked as he replied mysteriously, “Better for you not to find out.” You gaped at his secrecy but he ignored the look of disbelief you were wearing on your face. Before he took a sip of his drink, he asked, “And you?”

“If I tell you, will you tell me what you do?” you haggled. 

Toji’s eyebrow quirked upward for a split second, making you wonder if you imagined it. “No. I’d rather you not know.”

“But I wanna know,” you pleaded softly. He simply kept staring at you, not saying anything. You pouted a little. Giving up, you sighed and finally told him, “I’m a PA for a director of a company.”

“You like your job?” 

It’s not a weird question to ask, but you still couldn’t help but feel touched by his solicitude. Your heart thumped in your chest as you joked, “I’d like it even more if I was a housewife.”

Almost at once, Toji nodded and responded, “Quit your job. You can stay home or even go shopping everyday if you want to. I can provide for both of us.”

You pulled a frown and leaned forward a little. You lowered your voice and questioned seriously, “What do you really do?”

He scratched his temple. “If you really have to know…” He stared at you and you immediately nodded your head. He sighed as he ran his hand down the lower half of his face, bringing your attention to his scar by his lips for a second. “I get paid by people who don’t want to get their hands dirty.”

“So you do the dirty work?” Toji’s face scrunched up into a cringe as he nodded his head. You were unknowingly whispering now as you wondered, “Like what?”

“Don’t ask.” 

“Bad stuff?”

There was a beat of silence, like he was contemplating whether or not to answer, before he mumbled solemnly, looking away, “Bad stuff.”

You continued gaping at him, your heart thumping in your chest. So your soulmate was a bad guy. 

But what could you do about it? Hand him over to the police? Like hell you would. Besides, you’re kind of intrigued. You wanted to know just what kind of things he did. So you opened your mouth to ask more questions. But you took in the scar on his lips, the stormy look in his eyes, and the stony expression that he wears. You decided that you didn’t really want to know that badly, so you huffed and leaned back in your seat. 

You wondered if you imagined the slight quirk of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes because the moment you blinked, his face was a blank sheet again. You cleared your throat. 

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-eight.”

Your lips clamped together and your eyes widened in surprise. Toji noticed your expression, so he quirked an eyebrow. 

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five,” you squeaked. 

Your soulmate was 13 years older than you. He had lived 13 years ahead of you, without you. Holy shit, that was a long time. 

You’re still trying to wrap your head around the age gap between you and your soulmate when the waitress came to set your cocktail in front of you. Toji glanced up at her and gave her a tick of his eyebrow as a wordless thanks. You darted your eyes to the waitress at once, knowing what that small action would do to girls. 

True enough, you saw the lady pursing her lips as she fought off a shy smile, her eyes already turning googly as she continued staring at Toji. You returned your gaze to the man before you, only to see him staring at you. 

His deepset gaze unnerved you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking whereas your friends had always told you that you were an open book for everyone to read. You remember worrying to yourself at that time if you would ever be able to live with a man whose emotions you couldn’t even read. It felt impossible then. 

When the waitress left, you shifted in your seat as you asked him quietly, “Are you happy you found your soulmate?”

He swirled the liquid in his glass. Your stomach dropped when he didn’t answer right away. What he did instead, was take a sip of his whiskey. Your anxiety level was rising with every second he took to savour the alcohol in his mouth. You felt like you might vomit just as he swallowed and hummed, nodding his head. He looked just as solemn as ever. 

In that moment, you thought with all your heart that Toji definitely hated you. 

The time your worries and discomfort started to settle was the third time you interacted with your soulmate. 

Your phone had rung in the middle of the day. You remember your heart jumping in your chest when you read the name Toji Fushiguro on the screen. Swallowing and clearing your throat, you picked up your phone and slid your finger across the screen to answer it. 

“Hello?”

“Are you free tonight?”

Your heart leapt to your throat. Was he asking you out? “Yes,” you answered breathlessly. 

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Okay. Where are we going?” 

To be fair, it had been a week since you last met him and there had been minimal contact between the both of you. You never texted, and the only time you did was when you reported that you’d reached home safely the last time you saw him. You just didn’t know what to talk to him about and you didn’t want to seem like a clingy little girlfriend by asking him out again (even though you’d only met twice so far, including the first time you bumped into each other).

“A friend’s birthday dinner.”

Your blood froze cold. “I-I’m going to meet your friends tonight?” He hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” you nearly screamed. 

You would have been embarrassed at losing your composure so unglamourously if not for how nervous you were, thinking about meeting your soulmate’s friends for the first time. You hadn’t even impressed Toji yet and now you had to impress his friends? You didn’t even know him well enough, much less the kind of friends he hung out with! How would you make them like you, when your soulmate hated you?!

Toji grunted on the other line. “I forgot.”

“You forgot your friend’s birthday?”

Ignoring you completely, Toji reminded you, “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear a dress.” 

“Toji—”

You heard a loud noise in the background before he mumbled quickly, “Gotta go. See you tonight.”

And just like that, he ended the call. So you’re left brooding and anxiously fretting over tonight’s dinner. You couldn’t even focus on work because you’re stressing over what to wear that night and how to behave. It was the longest you ever took to get ready for anything to feel even just a morsel of satisfaction with how you look. 

By the time Toji got you from your place, you’re all but a bundle of nerves dressed in a cute dress and done up all pretty. The moment he set his piercing eyes on you, all he did was stare as he took you in from head to toe. But he said no word of praise as he made a comment about your apartment building. 

“The security here is shit.”

For some reason, the anxiety in you settled. You weren’t sure why, and what that was. But you felt calmer. Perhaps if he had commented on your looks, you would have felt even more nervous. You’re glad he didn’t say anything about your appearance. 

You turned off the lights and locked the door as you said, “Well, the rent is cheap. Can’t complain.”

Toji grunted. “You could move in with me,” he grumbled quietly, almost like he didn’t want you to hear. 

The both of you walked to the lift. “And your place is much safer than mine?” you mocked in a tease. 

Toji turned to give you a look. “Yes,” was all he said for you to realise that he was serious about 1) the security of his apartment, and 2) asking you to move in with him. 

Blushing, you looked away. The both of you took the elevator down in silence and jumped into a cab to get to the dinner location. It was so quiet for the first few minutes of the car ride that you couldn’t help but to start a conversation. You began to ask him about his friends, only to realise that maybe it was better for you to meet them in person than to listen to Toji’s short and brief responses. He must really hate talking. 

The silence during the rest of the car ride had you increasingly anxious. When you reached your destination, you were so nervous that you were fumbling and stumbling to get out of the cab. Toji stood next to you the entire time until you were no longer wobbling on your heels. You swallowed as you stared up at him. 

He was already watching you but now he quirked an eyebrow. “You alright?” 

You only allowed yourself to nod your head. Toji took a step closer and casually rested a hand on your back. Your heart smashed against your ribcage. This was the first time ever that he was touching you and you could just tell how different his touch made you feel. 

It just wasn’t the same as having someone else touching you. Hell, your crush of a few years kissing you on the cheek back in high school didn’t even compare to what you felt from a mere innocent touch on your back. 

You glanced up at Toji, suddenly seeing him in a new light as he walked through the glass doors of the restaurant. He was so much taller and bigger than you. And though his size had scared you at first, you were starting to find comfort and security in his build. Even his large, looming hand on your back made you feel calm. 

Toji, feeling your eyes on him, glanced down at you. “Yes?” 

Immediately, your face turned red. You shook your head and quickly looked away. You could feel his eyes still on you but you tried to ignore it by pretending you didn’t notice it. That was until you felt his hand lift off your back for just a second before it wrapped around your palm. Your eyes rounded in surprise and your heart started hammering against your chest. You darted your gaze up to him, hoping to get some sort of explanation as to why he did that. 

But you realised belatedly that you had arrived at the table of Toji’s friends when you heard a bunch of male voices calling out to your soulmate. You tore your eyes away from him and turned to the bunch of people sitting around a round table. They were grinning up at the both of you, almost slyly. 

“Oh, what have we got here?” The one with white hair whistled as he appraised you behind his black sunglasses. 

Toji reached into his pocket with his free hand and tossed him a black, oblong case. “Happy birthday, dickhead.”

The man caught it perfectly in front of him. As he opened up the case, he grinned naughtily up at Toji. “Didn’t know you had a thing for young girls, old man.”

At once, your face turned a violent shade of red. Some of his friends started snickering, which only made you feel so much more self-conscious. You felt a light squeeze on your hand before Toji let go, causing your heart to stutter. He placed a hand on your back and guided you to take a seat. The moment he sat down and pulled the menu booklet over to flip through it, he casually leaned over to grab the leg of your chair and slid you closer to him. 

You were gaping at him in disbelief just as the birthday boy said, “Oh, exactly what I needed!”

Distracted, you looked up to see him wearing a new pair of black sunglasses. He looked to everyone at the table with a wide grin, showing off his present. When he lifted the glasses to perch it on his head, he winked at you. You felt your entire face erupt in flames. He interlocked his fingers and extended them like a bridge as he rested his chin on them. 

“So, are you, like, his long lost daughter or something?”

You wondered if your face ever took a break from being red. Your eyes were round as you opened your mouth to say something, only to realise you didn’t know what to say. Lucky for you, Toji grunted and spoke up on your behalf. 

“Stop teasing her.” You turned to give him a grateful look. He was pouring himself some whiskey from the bottle in the middle of the table as he muttered, “She’s my soulmate.”

You could feel the entire room holding its breath, including the occupants. You didn’t even have to look to tell that you had all eyes on you. You could feel it. 

“What?” the white-haired man with the blue eyes breathed, still in shock. 

Toji turned to you, evaluating your uncomfortable expression. He turned back to his friend with a frown. “She’s my soulmate,” he reiterated, enunciating each syllable almost harshly. “Got a problem with that, Satoru?”

There was a beat of awkward silence before everyone started clapping. Satoru’s first reaction after breaking out of his stupor was to throw his head back and whine. 

“I can’t believe you’re taking the spotlight away from me! The birthday boy!”

Satoru sulked for the whole of the first course. It was only until he saw how shy and quiet you were, so out of place in Toji’s group of friends that he decided he would stop teasing the both of you. He was too far away to hold a conversation with you, but he had hoped that he would have the chance to get to know you better. 

Just before the last course of dessert came, Toji got up and asked, “I’m going for a smoke. You want to stay here or—“

“I want to come with you,” you quickly interjected, already pushing your chair back. 

Toji took the napkin off your lap before you stood up. He put his hand on your back again, guiding you towards the exit of the private room. A few of his friends followed behind you to join him for a smoke. You walked closer to him, your shoulder bumping his bicep. Toji glanced down at you at the same time you lifted your gaze to him. His dark green orbs flickered about your features and he finally addressed the anxiety written all over your face. 

Not with words. But by reaching up to your head for a little pat, so gentle that you showed surprise even as you cringed, expecting his touch to be heavy and rough. You felt your cheeks getting rosy again. 

Leaving the establishment to get to the smoking area, Toji got out first and held the door open for you, waiting until you were out before he let go of the glass door. You watched by his side as he lit his cigarette, the end of the tobacco stick illuminating in the darkness of the night. 

“You smoke?” he asked quietly, making this the first time he was initiating conversation. You shook your head and he nodded. “Don’t start,” he said as he took another puff. 

As his friends joined you, you frowned up at him. “Why do you smoke, then?”

“He’s a hypocrite, that’s why.” 

You turned your head to see the birthday boy rolling his eyes at you as he tutted at his friend. Changing topics, he grinned boyishly at you and held out his hand. 

“Satoru Gojo.”

You shook his hand and you saw his eyebrows shooting up for a split second, surprised by your strong grip. When he let go of your palm, the ends of his lips were slightly turned down, his bright blue eyes dancing as if in approval. He held up his palm to the side where a man with long hair tied up in a bun joined you with another lady with a bob haircut. The ravenette man pulled out a stick from his cigarette box and fit it in between Satoru’s fingers before taking one for himself. The woman is already puffing on her lighted cigarette.  

“So when did you find out?” 

The man with the long hair darted his eyes between the both of you but you looked up to Toji, who had been watching you the entire time. He took a breath of tobacco in and answered as he flicked the ash of his cigarette away. 

“A week ago. I was out getting supplies.”

You glanced at his friends to see that they were looking at you. “I was out shopping with my friends,” you murmured, lashes lowered shyly. 

“You’re so cute,” Satoru almost squealed, reaching his long limb out and closing his fist in front of your face like he was going to pinch your cheek. “You’re like the total opposite of this Grump,” he scoffed, stubbing his thumb out at Toji. 

“How does it feel? To have a soulmate?”

All of you turned to the only other woman there, who darted her gaze between all of you. You noticed Satoru and the guy in the man bun sharing a look. Unknowingly, your eyebrows furrowed slightly. As Toji turned his body to stub out his finished cigarette, his broad physique shielding you from his friends, he answered your unasked question. 

“They’re soulmates, the two of them,” he muttered softly, his voice low and almost ticklish in your ear. 

“Oh,” you squeaked softly. 

When Toji returned to his original position, you felt like you were seeing the two other males in a different light. 

“Hmm, contented?” The male with slitty, black eyes gave Satoru a look of unsureness. 

The blue-eyed man hummed. “Like you’re whole. You know?” He now turned to you and Toji like you would understand, maybe add on to their list. 

You blinked dumbly. Because, honestly, you still didn’t know how you felt about Toji being your soulmate. Sure, he was a good-looking, attractive man. But his personality was too cold and too quiet for your liking. You weren’t even sure if he liked you. You didn’t know how you could be his perfect match. 

“Hmm,” Toji grunted, pulling you out of your reverie. You were in awe as you watched him voice his thoughts. “It feels like you would do anything in this world to keep her safe.”

It had only been a few days since the birthday dinner and though you and Toji hadn’t spoken at all after he safely saw you back to your place, you hadn’t stopped thinking about him and what he said about having a soulmate. More specifically, having you as a soulmate. 

You were lying in bed on a Friday night, still thinking about Toji, when you heard some noises outside your room. You froze and listened really hard, and finally picked up the sound of your front door opening. You lived alone. 

You quickly sat up in your bed, just staring at your bedroom door until you heard some light clanging sounds of metals touching. That was when you ran to your closet and curled up into a ball in the dark space, as you fumbled for your phone. You didn’t hesitate to call the first person that came to mind. 

“Hello?” Toji grunted after five rings. He sounded groggy and tired. You wouldn’t be surprised if your call woke him up. 

“Toji,” you whisper-cried. If you weren’t so scared, you could probably hear the rustling on Toji’s end as he shot out of bed. “I think there’s someone in my home.”

He sounded far away when you heard him hiss, “Fuck!” A second later, his voice was steady and definitely nearer to the phone when he asked, “Where are you?”

“In my clo—” You jumped and whimpered when you heard something crashing to the floor outside. You couldn’t even take notice of Toji audibly making a mess of his home to rush over to you. You’re already crying when you finished, “My closet.”

“‘Kay, stay there, sweetheart,” the man instructed through the phone slowly, calmly. You pursed your lips and nodded. “I’m coming, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered as a fresh hot tear fell on your cheek. 

Toji ended the call then and you had to clamp your hand over your mouth to bar any sounds from leaving you. You were alert as you kept your ears peeled to what was happening outside. There was a lot of rummaging around in the living room until you heard your bedroom door open. You shut your eyes and pressed your palm harder to your mouth. Another streak of hot tears cut through your skin. You were scared out of your wits that they might have found out there was actually someone at home on a Friday night. 

You had to listen to the intruder go through your belongings, finding valuable items to take as their loot. In the shroud of your anxiety, you missed the sound of your front door opening. But you could hear everything that happened after. 

The loud crunch of bones, the cries of pain, the under-the-breath curses. You could only hope that Toji was finally here. Still, you didn’t leave the closet in case it wasn’t. Tears were still falling from your lash line and your hand was now back over your mouth when the doors to your closet were finally yanked open. Out of reflex, you squeezed your eyes close. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” you heard a familiar, low voice breathe. 

As you opened your eyes again, you saw Toji dropping to his knees before you, his big hands reaching out to you. You couldn’t see his surprise when you fell out of the closet and into his arms, sobbing into his chest. It took him a few seconds to get over his shock but he quickly wrapped an arm around you, his other hand stroking the back of your head. 

“Shh, shh… You’re good, Princess,” Toji murmured, tilting his head slightly so his lips brushed your hair. You clung onto the fabric of his shirt, sobbing even harder. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” the man whispered, his voice breaking. He had never felt more pain in all his life than right now, listening to you cry while he held on to you trembling.

The both of you stayed in this position for a long time, Toji just patiently holding you, gently stroking your hair, humming softly as if he knew that some white noise might make you feel better. 

It took you a really long time but when you’d finally stopped sniffling, you stayed slumped in Toji’s arms, your cheek smushed against his tear soaked shirt, suddenly spent from all the crying. The male stroked his hand down your back, his other hand cupping your damp cheek. His palm was rough, calloused and warm. It made you snuggle into his hold. Toji tilted your face up and you fluttered your swollen eyes open to gaze into his worried eyes, the rest of his face stoic and expressionless except for the slight downturn of his lips. 

The rough pad of his thumb swiped across your cheek, his touch making your eyes flutter shut again. You heard him sigh as he moved slightly. You peeked at him evaluating your room. Then, he turned back to you as he brushed your hair away, tucking your locks behind your ear. 

“Let’s pack your stuff. I want you to stay with me tonight,” he declared, so firm with his decision that you simply nodded, too relieved and tired to feel nervous or incredulous at his offer. 

That night, despite the both of you being soulmates, Toji respected your space, giving you his bed while he slept on the couch in his living room. After all, this was only your fourth time meeting. You were practically still strangers, at this point. 

He was right, of course. The security in his building was way better and his apartment complex was fancy. His place was the perfect bachelor’s pad, maybe just a little too big and empty for one person if you really cared enough about these things. 

It was currently two in the morning and you’d been wide awake despite how mentally exhausted you were from the distress you were under, all because you were aware of every little sound you heard. Tired of being kept awake because of paranoia, you got up and went to find the only person whom you knew could make you feel safe. 

Your footsteps were quiet as you left the room but Toji could still somehow hear you as you saw the silhouette of his head popping up off the pillow on the couch. You stopped where you were as you wrung your fingers together nervously. 

“Toji?” you whisper-squeaked. 

The man quickly sat up on the couch, facing you. He was probably going to respond, but you gasped when you heard a muffled sound coming from the unit next door. At once, you dashed towards Toji, knocking your knee against the table in your haste. 

Your soulmate caught you when you threw yourself at him, somehow cushioning the impact of your catapult. He immediately gathered you towards him as you sat on his lap turned to the side, your face in the crook of his neck, your arms circling his nape. He rubbed your knee, soothing your injury. 

“Just the neighbour, sweetheart,” he murmured into your hair. You were still clinging onto him like a baby, not saying anything. So he asked, “Wanna go to bed together?” 

You nodded at once. So Toji picked you up easily as he walked into his bedroom, laying you down on his bed and tucking you in before he came round the other side of it. He slipped under the blanket and you immediately curled into him, though not too closely. 

Now that you had your soulmate with you, sleep fell over you like a curtain. But it was not easy, because you jumped in the middle of your night when you heard a loud thud from outside. This time, though, you had turned to the other side in your slumber, which meant you were facing away from Toji. Your heart was thudding hard and fast against your chest. Breaking out in cold sweat, you stayed frozen as you focused your wide eyes on a suspicious spot in the dark room. 

You twitched when you felt a warm, heavy hand on your arm. “It’s alright, baby,” Toji murmured, his voice so low and sandy that you almost couldn’t hear him. “I’m here.”

You flipped around immediately and scooted your way into Toji’s chest, no longer concerned about the fact that you’d only met four times or that you were practically strangers. You were afraid and all that mattered was that  he was the only person who could make you feel better. 

Toji moved closer as well, his strong arms coming around you and you just naturally fit in them, your head already on his bicep and his other arm around your back, gathering you close to his warmth. He hummed, the reverberations in his chest providing you with comfort. Taking in a deep breath of Toji’s scent, you felt yourself calming down. It took you less than five minutes to fall asleep again. 

When you awoke the next morning, you were well rested and just slightly disoriented. You blinked around the unfamiliar room and the big, messy bed you were in. Before you freaked out, the bedroom door opened. You turned to see Toji walking in with a cup of coffee in one hand, the newspaper in his other. He noticed you awake and though he didn’t smile, you wondered if you were seeing things when you noticed his dull, green eyes light up. 

“Alright, Princess?” 

You nodded as you watched him climb back to bed next to you. He set the newspaper on his lap and took a sip of his coffee before setting the mug down on his bedside table. He turned to you, tentatively reaching out to brush a stray hair away from your face, his finger lightly brushing your cheek. 

“Slept well?” You nodded again, rubbing an eye. He hummed, now feeling more comfortable as he stroked your hair with his palm. You nuzzled into the pillow and shut your eyes again. “Still tired?” Your nod was becoming lazy and hard to notice. “Good night,” he whispered. 

The next time you woke, it was because of the alluring smell of bacon. You immediately got out of bed and padded out to the kitchen where Toji was at the stove, his broad back shielding you from what he was making. Going over silently, you stood next to him and peered over his muscular arm and saw that he was cooking eggs and bacon. You glanced up at him and he flicked his gaze to you, his eyes darting about your features. 

“Hungry?” You nodded shyly. “Of course you are. It’s 12PM.” You blushed, thinking he was making a subtle jab at your sleeping habits. But then he said, “You can go back to bed after eating. You had a rough night.”

“Toji, tha—”

He interrupted you from thanking him. “I told you your building wasn’t safe. You’ll listen to me now, right?” You gave an remorseful nod. He turned off the fire and leaned against the counter as he tilted his body to face you. He looked serious and scary, like a berating father. “You can’t keep living there, sweetheart. I can’t have you caught in another situation like this, you hear me?”

“But I can’t—”

“Move in with me.”

The fifth time you met him was the last time you ever had to count the number of times you saw him. Because you’d moved in with him, no questions asked. Toji was going to slowly work his way to making you quit your job but for now, he was content with you staying with him. 

You were unpacking when a cosmetic product fell out and rolled under the couch. Crouching closer to the ground, you dug your hand under the sofa and felt around for the bottle, only to come in contact with what felt like a card. Curious, you fished it out and saw that it was Toji’s credit card. 

“Toji?” you called. You heard a grunt from the bedroom and he was out the next minute. Brandishing the card to him, you announced, “I found this.”

His eyebrows were furrowed as he walked forward to retrieve it from you. You watched him scan the card for a second before his eyes lit up in recognition. 

“Where’d you find this? Under the couch?” You nodded. He had such an incredulous look on his face that you almost wanted to laugh if not for him almost rushing forward and squatting next to you. Your eyes rounded in surprise. “You can reach under the couch?” he breathed, looking so amazed that you cracked a smile. 

“Yes…?”

“Holy shit,” he cursed. He sounded the most excited you thought he could ever sound when he requested, “Babe, I have so much shit down there that I couldn’t reach. Would you be a doll and get them for me?” 

You nodded slowly. “But… why didn’t you just use something to help you fish them out?” 

He had a deadpan look when he answered, “Can’t be fucked.”

So you got back down and managed to pull out a golf ball, a set of keys, an expensive looking pen, a battery, some coins, a cell phone, and an ointment tube. The last item you got out was your makeup spray. You finally sat back on your heels and stared at Toji, who was in awe at all the things you retrieved. 

“How do you even— A cell phone?!” You shook your head when your soulmate opened his mouth to explain. “I don’t wanna know.”

“You’re perfect,” he murmured before cupping your face and pulling you closer to press his lips to your forehead. 

“Where are we going?” you whined, now so comfortable with your soulmate that you hid no thought or emotion from him. 

“You’ll see,” Toji muttered, still as frugal with his words as ever. Although you realised that he let down his guard more at home, he was still more content with listening to you than he was speaking. 

Toji led you to the entrance of a bar where you had to go down a set of stairs, his hand held behind his back as he carefully walked you down the steps. It was three in the afternoon and you weren’t sure why you were at a bar until he pushed through the door that had a ‘closed’ sign and two familiar men sitting at the bar counter turned to face you. 

Satoru wasted no time in hopping off his stool to bound over to you. “Hello, my lovely,” he cooed as he slung his arm over your shoulder and reached his other hand out to pull yours away from Toji’s hold. You blushed at his friendliness. “Did you come to see me?” 

You were propelled to sit on his warmed up stool, the white-haired man helping you up on it easily. His soulmate smiled courteously at you. Toji tried to take the seat next to you but Satoru immediately planted himself on it, scooting closer to you. You thought you heard Toji growl. 

“You remember Suguru,” Satoru reintroduced, holding an arm out to his soulmate. You nodded. He grinned and moved closer to whisper, “Tell him to pay up.” You frowned and turned to him, only to realise how close his face was. Satoru’s grin widened when he saw your face getting redder. He leaned back a little. “He bet you’d have cut your thread by now.”

You heard Toji scoff. “Why would I?” you asked. 

“Because Fushiguro is an irritable old fart,” Suguru answered matter-of-factly. “I didn’t think you’d want to stay soulmates with a man like that.”

You frowned. “That’s mean. I like Toji.”

“Aww,” Satoru cooed, resting his head against yours. “You’re such a sweetheart. Toji is lucky to have you.”

“There’s no ice.” You turned to see Toji now behind the counter, glaring at the two men before him. 

“Yeah, we had to buy. Our ice maker is—” 

Toji didn’t even listen to the rest of his sentence before he went to the kitchen, where you assumed he was getting the ice they bought. Suguru rolled his eyes. 

“See what I mean?”

You giggled a little. “He isn’t always like that,” you promised them. 

“What is he like, then, when he is with you?” Suguru wondered, almost dubious that he could be anything but mean and grumpy. 

You thought about it as you watched your soulmate come back through the kitchen door with two glasses filled with ice. He got a cocktail shaker and started putting together a concoction. 

“Hmm,” you hummed. “He takes care of me all the time,” you murmured. Toji glanced at you, holding your gaze with his. “He always lets me have my way—“

“Within reason,” Toji added in a mutter. 

One time in the two months you had been staying with him, you’d asked to go to sleep with your head under his shirt, very literally to hide inside the shirt he is wearing. Which, resulted in Toji rejecting your incredulous idea and you whining and guilt-tripping him by swearing you were cold and needed more warmth. He finally compromised but instead of doing what you asked, he slept top naked with you snuggled up in his chest. He never wore a shirt to sleep ever since then. 

Ignoring his comment, you continued, “And he makes lame dad jokes sometimes—”

“No way,” Gojo breathed in awe. 

You nodded at him to reaffirm what you just said. “And he is really nice to me.”

Toji placed a glass of milky white liquid on the counter in front of you before going to wash the equipment he used. Then, he poured himself a whisky and stayed on the other side of the counter where he could see you better. 

“What’s this?” you murmured, picking up the glass he put before you. 

You glanced at him watching you over the rim of his drink, an eyebrow ticking in a non-verbal way of telling you to go ahead. So you took a tentative sip and smacked your lips as you tried to figure out what it tasted like. It was sweet and just a little bit sour. You really liked it. 

“Candy?” you guessed. 

“Skittles?” Satoru joined in. You turned to him in shock because how did he know what exactly it tasted like? The blue eyed man immediately shot up from his seat and pointed an accusing finger at your soulmate. “You motherfucker! You said you didn’t know how to make any of our cocktails!”

“Of course he does, Satoru,” his soulmate sighed. “We taught him and Shoko how to make them.”

“Why would you tell us that you don’t, then?!” Satoru yelled, frustrated at his best friend. 

“Too much work,” Toji shrugged, taking another sip of his whisky. 

Satoru grumbled under his breath, not forgetting any curses directed at your soulmate too. “So you actually knew how to make a Hollow Purple?” Toji stayed staring at his friend and Satoru somehow knew what that meant. He blew up again. “You motherfucking fuck! Those girls were so fucking hot! They never came back again!”

“Because I didn’t make their drink?”

“Yeah, and your stale ass attitude,” Satoru spat. 

“They were embarrassed,” Suguru explained. 

Toji scoffed. “Shouldn’t have hit on me then.”

“Well, you were single then.” Suguru glanced at you, as if to let you know that your soulmate wasn’t cheating on you. “And I guess you’re an alright looking man.”

“You and Satoru are handsome too,” you remarked, wanting to be part of the conversation somehow. 

Gojo cooed as he grabbed your face to land kisses on your cheek, making you scrunch up your face. “I’m going to love you, and take care of you, and—”

“Get off her, you creep.”

Satoru stopped to glare at your soulmate, who looked unamused and annoyed at the scene before him. Just to play along, you circled your arms around Satoru’s waist and tilted your head to press your cheeks together. 

“I like Toru,” you say cutely.

All you heard was a loud squeal before you were smushed against the white-haired male in a tight hug. 

You locked your phone and stared up at Toji as he watched a soccer match on the TV. Noticing your gaze on him, he glanced down at you with your head on his lap, his arm resting across your chest. He raised an eyebrow in a wordless question. 

“What went through your mind when you found out I was your soulmate?” you wondered. 

He was quiet for a while before he murmured, “That I was a lucky bastard.”

You quirked a smile. “Did you really?” He hummed as a yes. “You didn’t think I was weird?” 

He frowned. “Why would I?”

“Because I was so awkward…”

Toji bent his arm to stroke your chin. “You were so cute.” His eyes were so soft on you. “The cutest thing I ever laid my eyes on. I was so afraid I might hurt you.”

Now, it was your turn to frown. “Why would you?”

The back of his fingers now stroked your cheek absentmindedly. “You’re so innocent and so tiny compared to me, Princess. I’m still afraid I might accidentally roll over you in my sleep and kill you.”

You giggled. “You’re so funny, Toji.”

“I’m not kidding.”

You didn’t doubt him. He may be a man of few words but he was good at communicating his feelings through his actions. He would always put you before himself and he would always be hovering over you in case you hurt yourself. 

You smiled up at him, your heart feeling so full. He was the sweetest man alive. “You know, I actually thought you didn’t like me when we first met,” you confessed. Now thinking back, it was kind of funny. 

“I’m sorry you felt that way,” he apologised, now cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. “I’m not good with people.”

“You’re good with me,” you chirp with a cute smile. 

“Well, you’re not people.” 

You frowned. What did he mean by that? 

You were about to start pouting when Toji said, “You’re my Princess and my baby.” 

At once, your face exploded in red. Your heart started pitter pattering against your ribcage. You grabbed Toji’s hand and used it to cover your blushing face. You could hear him laughing, which made you whine. But you stopped and held your breath when you heard the next sentence Toji murmured. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, baby.”

And he was the best thing that ever happened to you, too. 

Part 1, Part 2 >>

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