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hyuckiefluff · 16 days ago

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the wicked game of love pt.2 | lee haechan

pairing: slytherin! haechan x ravenclaw! fem. reader genre: rivals to lovers, smut, angst wc: 21k+ (full fic) summary: Lee Haechan was a pure-blood heir raised to hate everything you are. You, a half-blood girl who knew better than to let your guard down around someone like him. You were never supposed to want each other—until one disastrous kiss shatters everything you’ve worked to protect. cw: explicit sexual content, jealousy themes, toxic family dynamics, blood status discrimination, public sex, use of magic during sex, oral (m. receiving), marking, unprotected sex, mean lee haechan, miscommunication, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, secret/forbidden relationship. a/n: soo i did pass out from exhaustion last night hence why this is being posted later than intended lol. while writing this fic, i had the realization that magic can make the smut much more interesting and i explored that here so enjoy akskdkd pls let me know what you guys think<33

READ PART 1 HERE

"You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love." — Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

Your mother never summoned you to her office.

Conversations, when they happened, took place over tea in the sunroom, or in passing as she adjusted her hair by the mirror. But this time, a folded note slid under your bedroom door. Her unmistakable script read 'We need to talk. Office. Now.' The familiar knot in your stomach that came with anything regarding her tightened.

She was standing behind her polished desk when you walked in, every line of her posture sharp with restrained tension.

“I’ve just received the updated intern roster,” she said coolly. “Care to explain why you’re working with Lee Haechan?”

Your lips parted, caught completely off guard. “It’s not like I requested him. We were assigned.”

“I can fix that.”

“What?”

“There’s an opening in the Magical Transportation Division,” she replied, crisp as frost. “I’ll make the arrangements by tomorrow.”

“No.”

The word slipped out before you could temper it.

Her brow arched. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who forced me into this internship, mother. You wanted me to be useful, and now that I’m doing it, there's suddenly a problem?”

“I obviously didn’t expect them to pair you with that boy.” she scoffed.

You stepped forward. “I’ve already started the project and we’re making great progress. I’m not switching just because you don’t like that boy”

There was a second of silence. Her face didn’t change, but you felt the temperature in the room drop. It was rare for you to contradict your mother’s orders. The few times you did, she made sure you regretted it in some way.

“His father nearly cost me the election,” she said at last, her tone clipped, as if she was speaking to a political rival and not her daughter. “That family doesn’t make allies with people like us. You think working beside him is safe? Smart?”

“I don’t know,” you said, teeth clenched. “But it’s my decision.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Just be careful, Y/N. That boy was raised to play games at the highest level. Don’t think for a second you’re immune.”

You didn’t answer. You just turned and left, fists clenched so tight your nails bit into your palms. For the first time in your life, you walked away from your mother and her commands.

On the other side of the city, Haechan stood just inside the heavy oak door of his father’s study. Mr. Lee reclined in a leather armchair, firewhiskey swirling in his glass.

“You’re progressing nicely,” his father began, voice smooth and cool. “That Portkey proposal is attracting the right sort of attention.”

Haechan remained silent. Compliments from his father were never just compliments—they were lures, baited with hidden intent. Tonight, something about it set his nerves on edge.

“I hear you’ve been partnered with the Minister’s daughter.”

“Yes, father.”

“That’s convenient. Even I must admit, she’s grown into quite the pretty little distraction.”

Haechan’s jaw tightened instantly, but he held still.

“Though, I suppose one can’t expect too much refinement from a girl of her… blood status,” his father continued with a faint curl of disdain at his mouth. “Still, sometimes mixing blood has its uses… if not for lineage, then at least for entertainment.”

A flare of anger shot through Haechan’s chest and he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep him from cursing at his own father but he still couldn’t stop a reply from spilling out.

“Her blood status isn’t relevant.”

His father gave a cold chuckle, eyeing him knowingly. “Of course it’s relevant. She’s half-Muggle, raised without any real sense of tradition. It shows. Though perhaps that’s part of her charm, there’s something compelling about a girl who doesn’t fully realize her own value yet. Makes her easier to handle.”

“She’s not a prop, father,” Haechan bit out sharply, his voice harder than intended.

His father’s expression darkened instantly. Haechan exhaled slowly, trying to regain composure. “I meant she’s useful… professionally.”

Mr. Lee set his glass down with a soft click. “Spare me the schoolboy morals. Everything is leverage, even you. The sooner you accept that, son, the smoother this will go.”

Haechan always felt like cold water was being poured down his spine whenever he talked to his father. Perhaps he should be used to dealing with the man by now, after all, he’d been groomed for these games since childhood.

But tonight, his venom felt stronger than usual.

“Understood,” Haechan said finally, voice flat but vibrating with barely checked anger.

His father gave a slow, satisfied nod and reached again for his brandy. That was his way of dismissing him without a word. Haechan’s fingers curled at his sides, but he turned and left before the mask cracked.

He didn’t go to his room. He went straight to the Floo. Because if his father saw you as a pawn, Haechan needed to remind himself you weren’t—and, if he was being honest, remind himself he wasn’t either. Tonight, he needed one choice that belonged to him alone.

He apparated silently in the shadowy alley across from your home, his robes instantly dampening in the evening drizzle. He drew his wand, scanning the formidable iron gates and the darkened windows of the imposing Ministerial residence.

He knew the security enchantments protecting your house weren't a joke. They were designed to deter intruders, and specifically enemies of the Minister, so they recognized magical signatures instantly. One wrong move and alarms would blaze, calling Ministry Aurors to appear.

But Haechan hadn’t come this far to turn back.

So he approached the gate carefully. He’d studied enough ward breaking magic to know that subtlety mattered far more than power. He drew a quiet breath and raised his wand, whispering the careful countercharms he'd memorized from watching his father’s dealings.

One by one, the protective enchantments yielded reluctantly under his gentle pressure. He felt sweat trickle down his neck despite the chill night air. His pulse hammered as the wards strained, uncertain, hovering on the brink of recognition.

Then the charms faded back into place, accepting his magic as familiar enough. He stepped carefully through, heart slamming wildly against his ribs.

He moved soundlessly across the manicured lawn toward the side of the house. Climbing ivy clung stubbornly to the aged stone of the manor, it felt slick under his fingertips as he located your window. There was a light inside from a small lamp, which told him you were awake. He took a quick, anxious breath before reaching up and knocking lightly against the glass.

You flinched, wand whipping toward the window reflexively before your eyes widened in shock at the sight of Haechan standing on the narrow ledge beneath your window. You hurriedly unlatched the lock and slid the window open just enough to whisper furiously, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Let me in,” he breathed, desperate and shaking slightly from adrenaline. “Please.”

You hesitated only a fraction of a second before pulling the window fully open, helping him awkwardly inside. He tumbled through onto your bedroom floor, landing softly in a half-crouch, rainwater dripping from his robes onto your plush rug.

“Are you insane?!” You hissed, closing the window quickly. “The wards—”

“I know, I almost didn’t get through.”

“Why would you risk it?” you demanded, though your voice softened as you took in his shivering state. “My mother will have your head if she finds out you’re here.”

“I had to see you,” he admitted roughly. “I didn’t know where else to go. Everything’s so damn complicated… and the only one I trust right now is you.”

“I assume you also had a talk with your father.”

You reached toward him instinctively, fingers gently brushing the damp fabric of his robes.

“Yeah.” He sighed. The tiredness in his eyes and the tension in his jaw was enough to tell you that the conversation went as well as the one with your mother did.

“Let’s get you dry,” you said after a moment.

This wasn’t wise. It was barely safe. If your mother found out, Haechan would be in the kind of trouble you didn’t even want to imagine. But the quiet desperation in his eyes made it hard to think about any of that.

You waved your wand, murmuring a silent warming charm. Dry air spiraled from the tip making him shiver, eyes shuttering as the spell did its job.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“Your clothes are still a bit wet,” you scolded softly then faltered when you realized what you just implied.

He gave you a lopsided smile. “Permission to remove them?”

“Only because you’ll ruin my rug.” you looked away shyly.

He shrugged off the heavy coat and you levitated it away into the coat hanger in the corner. When he started on the pants, your fingers moved first, unfastening the buttons faster than his shaky fingers. They fell down his legs, leaving him only in his boxers and a thin shirt that clung damply to his torso.

“Arms up,” you muttered. He obeyed without comment.

You peeled the wet fabric over his head and your gaze stuck to the skin exposed—tanned, goose-pimpled, marked by a trail of tiny moles from collarbone to ribs.

“Enjoying the view?” he murmured, fond teasing curling the words.

“Just checking,” you said loftily. “There were rumors around Hogwarts that you had a nice form.”

Slowly, you pressed your mouth to a mole below his collarbone causing him to inhale sharply.

“And what was that for?” he whispered, amused.

“Experimental verification.”

You kissed the next mole, then the next, mapping them with your lips. He stood still, breath catching each time your mouth grazed his warm skin. By the time you kissed the last mole, over his throat, his hands moved to your hips.

He bowed his head, letting his forehead rest against yours. “I’m sorry for showing up out of nowhere. I just—-” He broke off, searching for something he couldn’t quite say. Whatever his father told him tonight, he locked it behind his teeth.

“You can stay the night if you want,” you whisper.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Please.”

You lead him toward the bed, shimmied out of your sweats and tugged him under the blanket. He curled behind you, one arm around your waist, fingertips tracing patterns over the slope of your ribs until your breathing slowed.

“Tomorrow’s going to be complicated,” you mumbled drowsily.

“It always is.” He brushed a kiss behind your ear.

Morning sunlight spilled across the duvet in stripes, warming your shoulders a moment before it reached the long line of Haechan’s body curled behind you. His palm rested open on your stomach, thumb stroking lazy half-circles under your night shirt.

“Good morning to you too,” you muttered.

“Good morning, princess,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep. His lips found the shell of your ear. “Any chance Ms. Thatch will accept a late proposal?”

You smiled into the pillow. “Only if you can convincingly argue we were under hard circumstances.”

“Hard?” He noses aside your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your neck. “Well, something’s definitely hard.”

You didn’t realize what he was talking about until he shifted his hips closer and you felt it hard against the small of your back.

“Are you serious?” you said, turning your head.

“It’s not exactly something I schedule.” He exhaled a slow laugh.

“And here I thought you came over just for some emotional stimulation.”

He leaned down and kissed you slowly, morning-sweet, but at the same time his hips nudged you for more.

“I'll stimulate whatever you need, princess”

You choked on a laugh until his hand slid further under the hem of your shirt.

“Is this your idea of a morning greeting?” you asked breathlessly.

He leaned in, mouth brushing your collarbone. “This is my idea of relieving some tension.”

Your thighs parted to cradle his hips instinctively when he moved on top of you. His mouth traced the line of your collarbone, then lower, until he was kissing your perked nipples over the shirt. Your fingers slipped under the waistband of his boxers and squeezed boldly enough to make him curse softly into your chest.

He palmed your other breast in response, thumb flicking your nipple until your back arched. You bit your lip to muffle a whimper, then pushed him onto his back with delicious authority.

“My turn.”

You shimmied down, lips dragging across the constellation of moles scattered across his chest and stomach. Every kiss made him sigh softly. You pulled his boxers down fully and when your mouth closed over his cock, he choked on a breath.

Haechan speared shaky fingers through your hair, muttering every filthy compliment he could remember. You licked the underside of his cock, then took him in almost fully, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat.

You sucked as far as you could and stroked the rest of with your hand. Haechan’s head fell back, mouth open in delight. “Fuck… ah—fuck that feels… so good—“

His hips started shaking under you but suddenly he stopped you and flipped you over. “Need to be inside you.”

Heat flared when he settled between your thighs, the hard length of his cock pressing where you were already aching. One hand cradled the back of your knee, guiding your leg around his waist and the other cupped your cheek as he kissed you again.

“Tell me how you like it,” he whispered, rocking just enough to tease. You arched, heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

“Like this,” you answered, voice gone rough. “Just—please—”

He slid in, filling you in one smooth glide that knocked the breath from your lungs. A broken sound escaped his throat. “Fuck, baby—” The rest dissolved into a soft groan as he drew back and thrusted again, deeper.

Your hands roamed his back, nails grazing lightly down muscle and spine. Each slow stroke dragging delicious friction inside you.

“Eyes on me,” he whispered, pupils blown wide. Your eyes fluttered open and the contact stole your breath more than the thrust that followed.

Pleasure starts to flow through you quickly when he slid his hand and started stroking your clit, your body tightening around him in response. He felt it and swore softly causing his pace to falter.

“Don’t stop,” you warned, looping both arms around his neck and pulling him close.

He kissed you hard, hips snapping a little faster, rhythm still controlled but hungrier now. Every glide set off sparks, every slide of his thumb over your clit pushing you closer.

“Hae…I—I’m gonna cum,” you gasped against his mouth.

“Me too, fuuck” he groaned.

He angled his hips deeper, and the change nearly sent you tumbling. Your walls clenched, pleasure hitting in a blinding rush. Your cry is muffled against his shoulder.

He followed with a hoarse groan, hips stuttering as the orgasm crashed through him. He kept moving in soft thrusts until the tremors faded and your limbs loosened.

He collapsed to his elbows, weight braced so he doesn’t crush you, brushing damp hair from your forehead with trembling fingers.

“That,” you managed breathlessly, “was incredible.”

He laughed and kissed the tip of your nose. “I live to please.”

The mantle clock in the sitting room chimed eight-thirty. And you remembered the briefing you had in thirty minutes. You groaned while he grinned, entirely unrepentant.

“We can still make it,” he said, stroking a thumb along your cheek. “Five minutes to shower, two to dress. That leaves twenty three for breakfast and another round.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you sighed, but the fondness in your voice undermined any scold. You press a final kiss to the mole on his neck, then roll out of bed, summoning clean clothes with a flick of your wand.

“Shower,” you declare.

He pushed up, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Lead the way, Ravenclaw.”

Haechan left your house first so as to not draw any suspicion in case your mother or any of her workers were around. You arrived at the Ministry with an armful of research notes, ready for the briefing. Haechan said he’d wait for you outside the lifts so you expected to see him leaning against the wall and making some sarcastic remark about your supposed “lateness”.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

Five minutes turned into ten, and frustration melted into annoyance as you glanced around. Eventually, irritation won out and you began to make your way to the briefing room.

It wasn't until you heard the soft click of footsteps behind you that you looked over your shoulder, and there was Haechan.

But he wasn’t alone.

Beside him was a girl you vaguely recognized from Ministry galas. She had impossibly long legs, hair so pale it seemed woven from moonlight, and appraising green eyes. The kind of ethereal beauty that belonged to Veela rather than witches, an almost unsettling allure that made you instinctively stand straighter.

"Sorry…" Haechan muttered as they approached. His eyes carefully avoided yours. "Lost track of time."

The girl turned smoothly toward you, offering a delicate hand adorned with expensive rings. "Cassia Selwyn. I'm an old friend of Haechan’s."

You forced your expression into neutral politeness, shaking her hand briefly. "Y/N. Nice to meet you."

Cassia tilted her head, silver-blonde hair slipping gracefully over one slender shoulder as her eyes slowly took you in. "Haechan’s told me all about you and your…little project. Sounds charming."

Your spine stiffened at her patronizing tone. "Yeah, well, it's important work."

"Oh, I’m sure," she purred indulgently, already dismissing you as she turned back toward Haechan. Her slender fingers reached out to adjust the knot of his tie, a gesture so familiar and easy it made your stomach twist. "Don't forget dinner tomorrow. My father's expecting you."

"I haven't agreed—"

Cassia leaned in, her voice dropping into a coaxing tone. "You know how disappointed he'll be if you don't show. Your father as well.”

Haechan’s jaw twitched—a subtle tell of annoyance you’d learned to read over the years—but he remained silent, clearly unwilling to argue further in front of you.

"I'll see you soon, Hae," she murmured sweetly, eyes sliding back to you briefly with faint amusement. And then she swept away, leaving a trace of expensive perfume in the air.

You stared after her for a tense second. "Cassia Selwyn," you said eventually. "That name sounds familiar."

Haechan let out a short breath, eyes glued stubbornly to your notes on the table. "Her father's head of International Magical Cooperation. He's also my father's closest political ally. She’s… uhm, she’s also interning here at a different department.”

Recognition clicked as soon as he said that. You remember reading about the Selwyns in Hogwarts' registry of notable pureblood families. Their ancient lineage was so prestigious, the closest thing you could relate it to was the British Royal family. Cassia’s effortless elegance suddenly made a lot of sense.

"Ah." Your voice felt strained, even to your own ears. "Well. Now I see why you needed to rearrange your whole schedule around her."

Haechan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's complicated."

"I bet," you muttered, jealousy slipping out despite your best efforts. "Maybe next time, give me some notice before you skip out on research to handle your personal affairs."

His eyes flashed defensively but he remained silent. Somehow, the quiet felt worse than any argument. At least when you were fighting, you knew where you stood. Now you felt lost in uneasy silence.

Before you could fully descend into that bitter feeling, a flying memo fluttered overhead, dropping onto your outstretched hand. You read it aloud, quite grateful for any distraction from the tense atmosphere.

"Ms. Thatch wants to see us before the briefing," you announced stiffly, walking away without waiting for him.

"Oh, there you are!" Ms. Thatch beamed as you entered. Her eyes flickered briefly behind you. "Where's Haechan?"

"Right here," he said flatly, stepping in a second behind you.

"Good!” she chirped, either not noticing or purposely ignoring your frosty demeanors. "You’ve both heard about our summer charity event, I presume. Since your project is the most promising out of all the interns, I have volunteered you to present at the event. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to find sponsors. The Minister herself will be there, as will your father, Mr. Lee."

Your eyes darted toward Haechan, who was stubbornly silent, making no effort to voice his usual objections.

"Actually, Ms. Thatch," you said quickly, "we haven't fully finalized the proposal yet. It might be too early to—"

"We'll do it." Haechan interrupted calmly, catching you completely off-guard.

Your gaze snapped toward him, incredulous and suddenly furious. He carefully avoided meeting your eyes.

"Wonderful!" Ms. Thatch clapped her hands enthusiastically, lipstick-stained teeth on full display. "I'm certain you'll manage beautifully! As I said, you're the strongest interns we've had this term. I’m not just saying that because of your parents."

A stiff smile was all you could muster in response, leaving the office after she finished explaining all the details.

You were hot on Haechan’s heels, ready to confront him about exactly what the hell he thought he was doing. But before you could even open your mouth, a deep, familiar voice stopped you cold.

"Son," Mr. Lee’s smooth, cold tone sliced through the air behind you.

You both turned slowly. Haechan’s expression hardened instantly, tension sharpening the lines of his face.

His father’s eyes flickered briefly over you, before settling firmly on his son again. "A word. Alone."

Haechan glanced at you for a second before nodding stiffly at his father and walking away, leaving you alone in the echoing corridor, with nothing but dread twisting tight in your stomach.

The next morning you found a fresh stack of parchment waiting on your usual table in the Archives with Haechan’s handwriting. A terse note sat on top.

Finished cross-referencing 1908–1911 tariff updates.See margin for flagged conflicts.—L.H.

When he finally appeared, he offered only a curt nod before sliding into the seat opposite you. For two hours he spoke in clipped sentences—“Need the ledger from shelf three-C,” “Double-check the French translation,” “Sign here so Thatch can log the revision.” Every time your questions strayed toward anything personal like Cassia, the meeting with his father, or even how he’d slept he deflected with a pointed glance at the parchment and a quiet, “Focus, Y/N.”

By the end of the week the chill had crystalized into routine: he arrived early, buried himself in research, left the moment your tasks ended. No playful shoulder-bumps in the corridor, no midnight trips for coffee, no sly grins when you corrected his footnotes. Only efficient partnership, as if the night he’d fallen asleep in your bed belonged to someone else’s life.

You told yourself it didn’t matter—you had a proposal to polish and sponsors to impress—but the hollowness followed you everywhere, rattling like a loose Snitch inside your chest.

The Ministry gardens glittered beneath strings of floating lanterns; orchestral music drifted over rows of donation tables. You arrived with a stack of project summaries tucked under your arm, determined to network, to prove Ms Thatch’s faith wasn’t misplaced.

You were halfway through charming a prospective backer when the crowd started murmuring., everyone’s attention sliding toward the main archway.

Haechan walked in at his father’s side, looking immaculate in midnight-green robes. Cassia Selwyn glided beside him, her hand nestled in the crook of his arm. Her pale hair swept over one shoulder, her expensive gown shimmering frost-silver under the lights. Together they looked carved from an old pure-blood portrait.

Your throat tightened. Haechan’s expression was cool, polite, but you saw the moment he spotted you. A flicker ofregret? Apology? But it vanished as Cassia leaned in to whisper, her crimson lips close to his ear. He nodded once, mask settling back into place, and let himself be steered toward the VIP tables.

��So,” your potential sponsor prompted, oblivious to the scene, “does the phased tariff model begin year one, or do you anticipate a six-month grace period?”

You swallowed, forcing your voice steady. “Six months,” you replied, though your eyes kept drifting to the far end of the lawn where Cassia laughed lightly at something Mr Lee said, her fingers still resting on Haechan’s sleeve.

For the rest of the evening you played your role but every glance across the crowd found him beside her, shoulders squared, distance in his eyes. And each time, the hollow flutter in your chest grew a little sharper.

When the orchestra launched into a waltz, sponsors swept onto the dance floor. Cassia turned, hand outstretched in silent invitation. Haechan hesitated before taking it.

They moved flawlessly together, was she all poised grace, and he the perfect partner. Applause rippled as they passed, Ministry officials nodding approval. You stood at the edge of the lawn clutching your untouched glass of elf-made wine, wondering how something that had never officially started could sting so much.

Your mother appeared suddenly at your elbow, startling you so badly you nearly spilled your drink.

“Are you romantically involved with the Lee boy?” she asked coolly.

Your gaze snapped up, shock widening your eyes. “What? No! Why—why would you even think that?”

She raised an eyebrow slowly. “You know I’m not one to entertain gossip, darling. But whispers at the Ministry tend to travel fast.”

You swallowed, heart rising to your throat. “What whispers?”

“The Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports approached me the other day about something he overheard.” She paused to sip her wine, calm and unbothered. “A rather heated conversation between Mr. Lee and his son... apparently about you.”

Your stomach tightened uncomfortably. “About me?”

“Yes. It seems that Mr. Lee explicitly instructed his son to stay away from you. I dismissed it as ridiculous at the time. How involved could you possibly be with that boy to warrant all that fuss?” Her sharp eyes turned toward the far end of the garden, landing pointedly on Haechan. “But tonight, seeing the way he’s been parading around with the Selwyn girl, smiling only for the photographs yet repeatedly throwing you those longing glances… I suspect perhaps Mr. Lee was right to worry.”

You felt your face flush deeply, skin prickling under your mother’s scrutiny. She'd always read you far too easily.

“Mother, I—”

She shook her head slightly, cutting you off. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N. It’s written all over your face.”

You lowered your eyes, lips pressed tight to avoid betraying anything further.

“Let me give you a piece of advice,” she continued impassively. “Don’t let yourself get more tangled with him than absolutely necessary. I’d hate for you to find out the hard way exactly why I'm warning you about this.”

She touched your arm briefly before walking away from your frozen form. The only sound your brain could register after that was the anxious pounding of your heart and the echo of her words.

You were still reeling when a familiar shadow fell across the refreshment table.

“There you are,” Haechan said softly. Up close, his formal robes looked stiff and constricting, as though he’d rather be wearing else.

“Got bored of your date so soon?” you muttered, trying to sound disinterested.

“She’s not—” His jaw worked. “Forget it. I actually came to review our talking points. Thatch expects us to pitch before dessert, and this” he lifted his champagne “isn’t helping me focus.”

“You’ve memorized those points twice over.”

“Just humor me, please?” His eyes flicked toward the hedge-lined maze beyond the garden. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

“Fine,” you sighed reluctantly after a minute of glowering.

The both of you slipped through the open arch between garden walls, careful to make sure no one was watching. Not that it mattered. Even if your intentions were innocent—and you weren’t entirely convinced they were—people would talk. They always did.

The deeper into the maze you walked, the more muffled the party became. Only the sound of your heels against cobblestone and Haechan’s steps behind you remained. You reached a quiet alcove surrounded by ivy and waited with arms crossed, pretending not to notice the way his eyes dragged across your bare shoulders.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing it from him. “What point of the presentation were you so desperate to—?”

“Your dress,” he murmured instead. “It’s distracting.”

You blinked. “That’s not a point in the presentation.”

“No,” he agreed, stepping closer, “but it’s why I couldn’t focus back there.”

“Try a little harder then, we need to present this soon”

“Mm,” he hummed, pulling out the folded parchment with your notes from his jacket pocket. “Start reading then.”

You took the parchment and started reading, brows furrowed as you scanned it. “The primary concern is the—”

Suddenly he was behind you, his hand reaching for your waist. You paused. “Haechan…”

“Keep going,” he said quietly. “I’m listening.”

You swallowed hard and stared at the words, trying to focus. “The primary concern is the inconsistency between—”

His hand slid higher.

“Are you seriously—?”

“This helps me focus,” he said, leaning in so close you could feel the heat of his breath at your neck. “Don’t stop now. You’re doing so well.”

The rasp in his voice and the way his hands kept feeling you over your clothes was making it very difficult to even breathe let alone read the stupidly messy words on the parchment. Why was his handwriting so bad?

“Keep reading,” he murmured again, lips grazing your ear.

You tried. “Um—the projected savings…and… and the reallocation of private funding—”

His thumbs skimmed small circles through the thin fabric of your gown, sliding higher to the tense line of your ribs. The parchment fluttered in your fingers.

“…and, uh, incentives for small-scale producers…” You hated the tremor in your voice, he clearly loved it. You could practically hear him smirk.

“You missed the compliance clause,” he whispered, letting one hand slide under the fall of your hair, settling against the back of your neck.

You licked your lips, found the line, forced the words out. “Clause sixteen… sets non-compliance penalties at.. at seven percent—”

His other hand traced the curve of your waist, sliding lower, drawing you back until you felt the press of his chest. The parchment crinkled. The pulse point in your neck pulsed wildly against his mouth.

“Seven percent is too lenient,” he murmured. “We should make them beg to meet the standard.”

You swallowed hard. “We should… probably get back.”

“In a minute.” He nudged your hair aside and pressed an unhurried kiss below your ear that made your knees wobble slightly.

“Is this really the time?” you gasped.

“Shh.” His hand at your neck slipped forward, guiding your chin to tilt slightly. “Eyes on the notes, princess.”

You tried, and failed, to focus on the words. Every line blurred as his lips traced slow paths from your jaw to your shoulder. The maze felt impossibly still, as though even the garden itself was holding its breath.

“Haechan, if someone finds us—”

“They won’t.” A gentle nip at your earlobe. “Read the next bullet.”

You forced your gaze down. “Improved… audit protocol… mandatory quarterly—” Your voice broke when his hands slid to your hips, drawing you back against him fully. You felt the unmistakable evidence of how little “reviewing” mattered to him just now.

“Quarterly audits,” he echoed, his tone husky. “Brilliant idea.”. Soft lips drifted to your collarbone.

“This is— spectacularly stupid,” you whispered, though your body melted under his hands.

“Stupid,” he agreed, skating calloused fingers up the slit of your gown until night air kissed your thighs. “Let’s be quick, then. Prove we’re brilliant later.”

The parchment crinkled in your grip, words dissolving into texture. Somewhere beyond the maze someone laughed too loudly, and you discovered recklessness had the flavor of champagne and something breathtakingly alive.

“This... this is too risky,” you breathed, head tilting back as his fingers ghosted over your skin.

“I’ll be quick,” he promised, mouth dragging along your jaw.

Of all the things you’d done with Haechan, this was easily the most idiotic. More reckless than letting him go down on you in the Archives. More dangerous than that kiss behind the velvet curtain at the gala. Especially after the warning from your mother—you knew better. You should have walked away.

But Haechan always knew how to get what he wanted and he knew exactly how to make you want it too.

The thought that he was here, fingers sliding past your underwear, while your mother, his father, and Cassia Selwyn were probably sipping champagne and wondering where you’d slipped off to... gave you a guilty rush that made your legs open slowly.

“Okay,” you whispered at last.

His hand slid under your panties in response, fingers cupping you firmly and spreading you open. You were already, shamefully, soaked.

“Always so eager for me,” he muttered, rubbing teasing circles over your clit. “For someone who whines so much.”

“We… don’t have time for your mouth,” you snapped breathlessly, shoving him back against the ivy-covered wall and yanking at his belt.

“I love it when you boss me around,” he groaned, eyes half-lidded as you worked his trousers down. “Makes me feel like a very bad boy.”

“You are,” you hissed. “A fucking disgrace.”

“Fuck” His boxers hit the ground, cock slapping up hard against his stomach—red, slick at the tip, and twitching.

You grinned. “Someone’s happy to see me.”

“You have no fucking idea,” he rasped, grabbing your hips and dragging you closer. His hands slid down, squeezing your ass. “Every time we’re in the same room, all I can think about is this.”

“If only you weren’t so busy playing daddy’s little puppet…” you purred, kissing along his jaw.

His breath hitched, but the smirk didn’t fade. “Don’t talk about my father while your hand’s around my cock.”

“Oh?” You tightened your grip enough to make him hiss between his teeth. “Does it kill the mood?”

“No,” he groaned, rolling his head back against the ivy. “Makes me want to fuck that little attitude out of you.”

That was all the warning he gave before grabbing your waist and hoisting you up easily. Your back hit the ivy wall as his hips jerked forward, cock grinding hard between your thighs. Not inside yet but pressed right where it hurt most, dragging against soaked lace.

“Haechan—fuck—”

“You wore this for me, didn’t you?” he whispered fingering your lacey panties, lips at your throat. “This little slit that barely covers anything. You wanted me to rip them off you tonight.”

“Shut up and do it,” you snarled, grinding against him.

He growled something unintelligible, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, then reached between you to yank your panties so hard they ripped easily. The head of his cock slipped through your slick folds and you both gasped.

“You’re so wet,” he rasped, voice breaking as he dragged the tip over your clit once. “Fuck, you were ready for this before I even touched you.”

He slid in with one hard thrust that knocked the air out of your lungs. You gasped, eyes fluttering shut, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Eyes on me.” He growled, snapping his hips forward again, deeper this time.

You looked at him and whatever was in your expression made him moan. “There she is,” he whispered. “Fucking beautiful when you give in.”

His thrusts turned punishing, dragging against everything inside you that made your spine arch and your thighs clamp tight around his waist.

“This—” he panted, “—this is mine. This body. These sounds. You can pretend otherwise but—” he slammed into you, hard enough to make you cry out, “—this belongs to me.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Your breath was caught in your throat, stars flashing behind your eyes as the heat coiled lower and lower.

“You gonna cum for me?” he whispered, biting at your earlobe. “Right here where anyone could walk by? Your mother. My father. Cassia.”

“Don’t stop,” you begged, voice shaking. “Please, don’t fucking stop—”

“Say it,” he demanded, hand sliding between your bodies to rub tight circles over your clit. “Say who’s making you cum.”

“You,” you gasped. “You. Fuck, Haechan—please—”

You cried out when your orgasm hit, nails scoring red lines into his back as your walls clenched around him. He groaned low and rough, fucking you through it. Seconds later, he spilled into you with a strangled moan, forehead pressed to yours.

Only the sound of your panting, the distant music from the gala, and the rustle of ivy around you could be heard.

“That was a good review.” He whispered against your lips.

His cum was still dripping down your thighs when he kissed you again, but only for a breath. Then he pulled back, and looked down at his wrist watch.

“We still have about ten more minutes before the presentation” he said, voice wrecked.

“So…?” you asked, still trying to catch your breath.

“I wanted to try something”

Before you could ask what, he flicked his wand and your dress vanished in a puff of smoke.

You gasped. “Are you serious?”

“Very,” he murmured, tapping your sternum next. “Desino gravitatem.”

Your body lifted off the ground like a marionette cut from strings, floating weightless as the ivy trembled behind you.

“What the—”

But his hands were already back on you, guiding your hips forward in midair. You were suspended, spread and hovering high enough for him to slot between your thighs again. He flipped you with a wrist flick, your back now to him, ass lifted, legs dangling.

“Perfect,” he muttered, gripping your waist like he was trying to memorize the feel. “Jaemin once bragged about using this spell on a girl. complete bollocks, by the way—he can barely do a simple leviosa half the time. but i’ve been dying to try it ever since.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to maybe ask first?” You snapped, flailing slightly.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“… I mean, I hardly have a choice now, do i?”

he chuckled, the sound warm and low against your back. “I promise you’re gonna love it. Prefect’s honor.”

“You were never a prefect.”

“Yeah, but I’m very committed to pleasing you.”

He pushed back inside you with a groan, the new angle making you curse violently as your body trembled in midair. His hand wrapped around your throat with enough pressure to steady you as he thrust upward into you.

Every time his hips slammed into you, your body jerked forward. The lack of gravity and the angle made it feel like every thrust reached your head.

“You like this?” he growled. “Being my little floating fucktoy?”

“I hate you.” You moaned.

He smacked your ass. “Try again.”

“Fuck— s’good… don’t stop—” you whimpered.

“Better.”

Your moans were getting louder, echoing through the enchanted ivy, the charm he’d placed keeping you perfectly in place even as you writhed midair.

And then he did something insane.

He cast Gemino, the duplication charm.

Instantly, a spectral copy of himself shimmered into view in front of you. The second Haechan—transparent and golden at the edges—grabbed your hair and kissed your mouth while the real one kept fucking you from behind.

Your brain nearly short-circuited, too overwhelmed.

“This is crazy,” you moaned into the phantom’s mouth, barely coherent.

“So’s half the shit we’ve already done,” the real one panted.

And when his fingers slid between your legs again, teasing your swollen clit as the illusion bit down gently on your lower lip, you came so hard you screamed his name loud enough that it had to echo into the party.

The hovering charm flickered, and Haechan caught you against him before you could drop, still inside you, panting.

“You’re deranged,” you whispered, clinging to him.

His mouth was at your ear. “I know you loved it.”

“Please bring my dress back.” you said, shivering slightly.

He quickly made your dress appear again.

“What even were those spells?”

“Why? You wanna try them on me?” he smirked.

You shoved him and summoned a hand mirror to fix your appearance. Every bit of your makeup was smudged and your hair was a mess. You sighed and fixed it. Haechan simply brushed his hand through his hair. You reached up and wiped off some lipstick that was smudged on his lips. Also, put a glamour charm to cover the bruises that were starting to bloom where your lips had been on his neck.

“Ready to kill this presentation then?” He asked.

“Let’s go” you replied.

And kill the presentation, you most certainly did.

The Ministry atrium felt almost gentle the day after the fundraiser. Probably because you were still riding the high of a perfect presentation, the fact that many donors had signed, Ms. Thatch had all but done a cartwheel, and the Portkey Tariff proposal just needed a last polish before being sent up to the Department heads. Life, for once, was cooperating.

You arrived early, as usual, so you stopped by the breakfast nook near level five to enjoy a quiet moment before the day started. You even let yourself order the overpriced chamomile from the enchanted dispenser.

The peace lasted precisely three and a half sips, until you noticed two witches at a nearby table. One pretending to stir her tea for the tenth time, the other tilting the Prophet so conspicuously towards you it might as well have had your name printed on the cover.

You checked your face in the reflection of your spoon but nothing was off. No food in your teeth, your lipstick wasn’t smudged, no eye buggers. Nothing on your face explained the sudden interest.

A weird feeling twisted in your guts. Your first thought was, no way. Your second thought was, check anyway. So you walked to the newspaper stand and picked up a copy.

The front page was an article about the Turkish Minister’s retirement, nothing crazy. You scanned further, flipping pages of Quidditch standing, goblin policies, and other uneventful news. Until you finally found an article about the fundraiser on page six.

You scanned the article quickly. It was mostly praise for the decor, attendance from international guests, and a nod to the interns’ presentations. And then, just beneath the column, in a faint gray box labeled Social Notes & Curiosities:

"Not all moments at this year’s gala were on the official itinerary. Several sharp-eyed partygoers noted that two unnamed interns vanished into the hedge maze for “several curious minutes” during the height of the festivities, returning just before the closing presentation looking flushed and disheveled. Sources declined to identify the pair, but wondered aloud whether young ambition sometimes… overgrows the path.”

Blood drained from your face so fast you felt light-headed. No names…but anyone with half a brain could add them. You folded the paper with shaky hands, and left the nook on autopilot, hunting for Haechan.

Before rounding the corner toward the Archives hall you heard voices whispering in a heated argument.

“I just wonder if you’re serious about your future, Haechan.” you recognized Cassia Selwyn’s silk-smooth voice.

“So you planted that story?!” Haechan sounded pissed.

“Don’t look at me like I'm the villain. You and I were promised to each other before we could even read. You wandering off with her—”

“Is none of your business.” He spat.

Cassia's tone sharpened. “It is when it jeopardizes the alliances our parents built. I won’t let a half-blood charity case ruin everything just because you’re in your rebellious phase.”

You pressed flatter against the wall, pulse roaring.

Haechan’s reply was almost a growl. “If you ever bring her into this again—”

“You’re the one who brought her into this,” she cut in. “But soon enough you’ll remember why duty always wins over puppy love.”

Something, maybe his fist, hit the wall. You flinched though it was a few meters away.

“I’m warning you, Cassia. Stop your little games.”

He stormed off in the opposite direction; Cassia’s heels clicked leisurely the other way. Only then did you realize you hadn’t breathed for a full thirty seconds.

You were already seated when Haechan walked into the briefing room.

He pulled out the chair next to you like he always did. Your fingers kept moving over the edge of your parchment, smoothing the crease you'd created while standing outside that hallway, listening to Cassia carve pieces of you apart.

"You okay?" He asked under his breath.

"I'm fine." Too fast.

You didn’t need to look to know he was frowning.

"You sure? You kind of—"

“—We're starting,” you cut in, straightening as Ms. Thatch entered the room with her usual whirlwind energy.

“Brilliant work last night, everyone!” She said, stacking folders with a flick of her wand. “Now, just a few corrections and then the proposals will officially be on their way to senior review. And”—she paused, smiling brightly—“We’ve got a new addition to the team for the rest of the internship.”

The door creaked open behind you.

“This is Emil Chartier,” Ms. Thatch announced. “Our international liaison from Beauxbatons. Top of his class in Diplomatic Transmutation, fluent in six languages, and here to help polish our draft for European compatibility.”

You turned just as he stepped forward. He was tall, with a willowy frame, and wearing robes in a midnight-blue cut so precise the velvet seemed poured onto his shoulders. He had sun-touched blond curls, one errant lock deliberately tucked behind a narrow ear. High cheekbones, a mouth that hinted at a permanent half-smile even when perfectly neutral, and eyes that looked grey at first glance, but slightly amber at the edges when the light caught.

He stepped forward on soft-soled dragonhide shoes and stopped at a conversational distance from the table.

“Bonjour,” he said, voice smooth as warm honey. “I’m very excited to join you all. I’ve read your project outlines, they were brilliant.”

“I’m thrilled to be here. Your project outlines were brilliant.”

The words floated over the entire table, but his gaze never wavered from you.

Haechan scoffed next to you. It was barely a breath but you felt it. Then his quill bent as he pressed down just a shade too hard, blotting ink across his notes.

Emil continued obliviously. “I’m especially interested in the tariff-equalisation clause. The logic is elegant, I’d love to discuss it in more detail.”

His smile was soft, earnest. Yours flickered back before you could help it.

Ms. Thatch clapped her hands. “Very well! Then Y/N and Haechan can work closely with Emil for this final stage.”

“Magnifique!” Emil chirped, pulling the chair beside you. He gave Haechan a polite nod, then turned back to you. “I was especially impressed by your cross-referencing in the North Sea tariff section.”

Haechan made another annoyed sound but you didn’t look at him.

“That was all her,” he said, voice casual but tight around the edges.

“Then she deserves the praise,” Emil replied easily, eyes sliding toward you with warmth. “I admit, I was curious to see if the one behind the proposal was as impressive in person.”

You managed a quiet laugh. It was almost disorienting, being noticed in the way Cassia had said you never would be. As if your worth was obvious, not conditional.

You reached for the inkpot, intending to refill it. Emil caught the movement and reached over first. “Allow me,” he said, voice low. “Can’t have ink stains ruining those clever hands.”

Haechan’s quill snapped with a quiet crack. No one else seemed to notice—Ms Thatch was already launching into the agenda—but you caught the tiny muscle that jumped in his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed a fraction before he repaired the quill with a flick of his wand.

Emil blinked at him, then whispered to you. “Should I be worried I've offended someone?”

“Not at all,” you murmured, returning the smile, even as your heart twisted in your chest.

You didn’t wait around after the meeting ended. You gathered your notes and slipped out before the room even cleared. The air in there felt too suffocating. You needed quiet and space.

But of course, you didn’t get that.

“Y/N—wait.”

Haechan’s voice chased you halfway down the northeast spiral before you finally stopped, turning sharply just outside the records annex.

“What?” you snapped.

He blinked. “...You’re upset.”

“Wow, nothing gets past you.”

Haechan stepped closer, one hand gripping the railing. “Okay. sarcasm noted. Can you just…tell me what’s going on?”

You gave a breathy, incredulous laugh. “What’s going on is I just found out you’re playing with me while you pretend you’re not already betrothed to.”

His eyes darkened. “You heard that conversation.”

“All of it.”

“Then you know she’s full of shit.”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? Because she still has a claim to your future.”

He moved to speak, but you weren’t finished.

“And you know what the worst part is? I already expected it. I should’ve known that someone like you would end up with someone like her”

“Is that what you think?” he said finally, voice too soft.

You crossed your arms. “I spent the morning reading about us in the prophet and then i had to sit next to you like nothing happened. while that new intern—who doesn’t even know me—managed to actually say something nice about my work the way you never have.”

Your voice broke a little on the last word, but you pushed through.

“And it just made me realize... maybe it wouldn’t be this hard with someone else. Maybe I wouldn't feel like I have to prove myself every second just to be taken seriously.”

Haechan's jaw clenched. “Why are you even bringing him into this?”

“Why not?” you snapped. “He’s not the one being yanked between his family’s expectations and his own guilty conscience.”

“You don’t think I'm trying?” he said, louder now. “I'm walking a tightrope every damn day trying to keep my father from pulling me out of this internship entirely. If he knew what happened in the maze—if he knew how far this has gone—”

“He’d what?” you challenged. “Marry you off faster?”

The silence was confirmation was enough.

You sucked in a breath. “So that's it. Cassia was right.”

“No,” he said immediately, stepping forward. “She’s not. She doesn’t know how I really feel about you. She doesn’t get to decide that. Not her, or my father, or anyone.”

His eyes were shining with rage and desperation.

You stared at him for a long second, heart racing, unsure if you wanted to slap him or kiss him or cry.

“…I can’t do this if i’m just a rebellion phase for you,” you whispered.

His expression shattered.

“You’re not.”

The words hung limp between you, nothing to cling to, nothing to soften the fall. You turned and walked away, fingers curling into fists at your sides. Not because you didn’t believe him.

Because you did.

And that made everything worse.

You found yourself in one of the small auxiliary lounges on level seven—mostly unused, with a cracked fireplace charm and mismatched armchairs that smelled dusty. You curled into one near the window, letting the sun slant across your skirt as you stared down at the proposal draft without reading a single word.

You didn’t cry. You were past that. You were just angry and hurt. And tired in a way that had nothing to do with spellwork or policy corrections.

A soft knock broke your silence.

“May I?” Emil asked gently, gesturing to the seat across from you. “I noticed you left in a hurry.”

You hesitated, then nodded.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said after sitting down.

“For what?”

“For… Perhaps inserting myself too comfortably this morning. I didn't realize things were so tense.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Actually, you were the only person who treated me like… just a person today.”

He offered a small smile. “Well. You are quite an impressive person.”

You gave a tired laugh, but it came from your chest this time. “You barely know me.”

“True. But I saw how your colleagues looked at you when you spoke in the meeting. Especially him.” Emil's tone stayed neutral, but his eyes were kind. “Whatever else is happening… I don't think you’re as alone as you feel.”

You looked down at your hands. “I don't know what I am to him. And I'm scared to ask.”

“Then don’t,” he said gently. “Not yet. Let him decide if he’s brave enough to make it clear.”

You sat with that for a long moment. He didn’t press just reached into his satchel, pulled out a little wrapped croissant from the café cart, and placed it on the table between you without a word.

“Is this for me?”

“Consider it strategic morale support.”

You smiled despite yourself.

Haechan stared at the shredded parchment in his hands. His third failed attempt at rewriting the trade summary. Ink had smudged from his fingers to his temple sometime during the last hour, but he hadn’t noticed. Or cared.

Your voice still echoed in his head. “Maybe it wouldn’t be this hard with someone else.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face and stood abruptly. The movement knocked over a stack of annotated notes and sent one sliding under the archive cabinet. He let it stay there.

He didn’t know why he always did this—why he always ruined the one thing that felt like it mattered the second it got real.

His father’s voice drifted in his memory: “Sentiment makes you weak. Attachments make you vulnerable.”

But you didn’t make him feel weak. You made him want to be braver.

His eyes flicked to the small framed article pinned to the wall. A piece from last year’s Ministry Gala, featuring his father’s speech about legacy and honor and discipline. Haechan wondered if anyone would ever write something about him without including the word Lee in the headline.

He couldn’t fix this with you. Not until he figured out how to stop being a coward.

So he kept quiet. Let his father go on assuming he’d ended things. Let him believe the engagement to Cassia was back on track. It bought him enough time to work out how to unravel the noose his father had spent years looping around his neck.

In reality, this wasn’t just about you. It was also about being looked at like a pawn, about being maneuvered like his only use was to cement power through maintaining the bloodline.

Cassia was the first knot he had to cut.

He knew it had to be public. Loud enough that no one—especially his father—could twist it into a temporary setback or a lover’s quarrel. It had to be permanent.

The perfect opportunity was already on the calendar.

Cassia’s father’s birthday dinner which was set to be held at The Gilded Laurel, an old wizarding restaurant perched on the Cornish cliffs. Known for its fairy- enchanted chandeliers and tables that float slightly above the floor, it was a staple for the pureblood elite. Every detail of the evening would be noted, photographed, whispered about. If he broke it off there, in front of her family, in front of his father, in front of the Prophet’s most loyal leeches… there would be no going back.

He wasn’t nervous about facing everyone. He was only terrified of what you’d think by then. Of whether you’d already decided you were done waiting.

Because every hour that passed without him telling you the truth… It was another hour you might spend believing that you didn’t matter. That he’d chosen her. That you’d just been a mistake in between his family’s expectations.

But you weren’t. And he’d prove it, even if he had to burn everything else down to do it.

The night of the dinner party came faster than expected. Haechan arrived with his father’s hand resting on his shoulder. Cassia greeted them at the entrance in a blue satin dress and a smile as perfect as porcelain.

“Try to look happy,” she murmured while the photographer adjusted his focus.

“Working on it.” Haechan replied noncommittally, eyes already scanning the room for the biggest audience.

The crystal goblets chimed and soup bowls floated down onto their table. Conversation swelled about trade numbers, Ministry gossip, Quidditch brackets. Haechan nodded in all the right places while cataloguing where the reporters were.

After the plates were cleared and dessert was served, Mr. Selwyn rose with his glass aloft.

“To family, old alliances, and future unions.” His gaze lingered on Cassia and Haechan. Polite applause followed.

Haechan stood before it died away.

“I’d like to add something,” he started.

“I know this dinner is meant to celebrate Mr. Selwyn, as well as our families and legacy.” He looked at Cassia, who was staring at him with a frozen, perfect smile. “But it would be dishonest of me to sit here and pretend like this engagement is moving forward.”

A cold silence flattened the whole room, nothing but the sound of a few utensils falling onto plates could be heard.

Mr. Lee’s smile held, but his eyes flared sharp. “Haechan, sit down.”

“No, father.” Haechan answered, louder. “I need everyone here to hear me say it clearly. I’m not marrying for Cassia Selwyn.”

Cassia’s chair scraped back. For a second she looked sixteen again—hurt, furious, the mask of perfect grace gone. “You’re being ridiculous. We’ll discuss this in private.”

“No,” Haechan said, softer. “We won’t.”

Around them, guests exchanged delighted whispers. Without waiting for permission, without offering another explanation or bowing out gracefully, he turned his back on the table and walked straight out the gilded doors.

The last thing he heard before exiting was his father yelling his full name, followed by the distinct clatter of a wine glass hitting the floor.

He didn’t look back.

He only hoped it wasn’t too late to go find you.

The Floo spat him out inside the Ministry's atrium, ash on his robes and adrenaline still curling in his throat.

He hadn’t even stopped to breathe a second. Just left the restaurant, ignored the growing swarm of reporters trying to get a quote, and apparated straight to the only place he knew you'd be this late.

Because you never missed work. Not even when you were heartbroken.

The records floor was humming with cataloguing charms, but mostly empty. He moved through the aisles, scanning each reading nook, until he saw the sliver of warm light at the far end.

And you half-asleep on a bench with a file open in your lap, hair pulled into a messy knot, as if you'd given up on keeping it tidy hours ago. Peeking out from the edge of your notes, was a crumpled copy of The Daily Prophet.

The headline was impossible to miss. “Selwyns Host Private Dinner Amidst Engagement Rumors” A charmed photo of Cassia smiling beside him at the Summer Fundraiser. The article’s subheading speculated—rather confidently—that an official announcement was imminent.

Haechan swallowed, guilt tangling hot in his chest. The paper looked crumpled, proof you’d read every word and probably re-read it.

He approached quietly.

You didn’t look up when he got close, but your spine straightened defensively.

“I thought I’d find you here.” He said softly.

You didn’t answer.

“I ended it.”

That made you turn.

He looked a little wild. Hair windswept, face flushed, pupils still blown from whatever reckless high he'd just walked out of. But his voice was calm and clear.

“What?”

“I broke it off at her father’s birthday dinner. In front of the whole Selwyn clan. My father. The press.”

“Really?” was all you managed to breathe out.

He nodded once. “I said I wouldn’t marry her. That I never planned to. And then I left.”

“Just like that.”

You stared at him.

For weeks he’d let the world believe what it wanted. Let it write another name next to his. Let you become a mistake he’d made. And now, here he was, standing in front of you after the storm finally broke.

Haechan stepped closer as if he’d been reborn in the fallout. Shoulders squared, back unbowed, silk tie loosened like he could breathe for the first time in years. The usual tension around his mouth was gone, replaced by a flicker of something almost boyish. Relief, or maybe exhilaration at finally choosing his own future.

He looked lighter, taller, as if someone had cut the invisible strings that kept him posed for family portraits. And when his gaze found yours, it wasn’t apologetic but certain.

For the first time, he was standing in front of you looking sure of what he wanted.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said. “And I’m not expecting it. But I needed you to hear this from me first.”

You couldn’t find any words to reply, all your thoughts were a mess. You almost thought he was a figment of your tired mind for a second.

He continued. “You said something the other day that stuck with me. That it felt like you had to try harder to be liked around me.”

“I hated that,” he said. “Because you’re the only person I’ve ever liked without trying at all. The only person I actually wanted to be seen with, not hidden. And I’ve been an idiot… No, worse than that. I’ve been a coward.”

You looked away, eyes burning.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen with my family after tonight,” he continued, voice quiet now. “But none of it matters if I lose you.”

“You could’ve told me,” you whispered after a few seconds.

“I know.”

“You let me believe I was just…” You swallowed hard. “nothing.”

“You’re everything to me, Y/N.”

He took another step and kneeled down, your eyes finally met his.

“Tell me what to do,” he said. “And I’ll do it. I don’t care if I have to claw my way back. Just give me a place to start.”

You were quiet for a long time, heart beating so hard it would surely bruise your ribs. “Why should I?”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

The words hit you harder than that rogue Bludger had in your third year. No wind-up or grand speech. Just the truth, raw and terrifying, dropped between you like a vial of undiluted Veritaserum.

You stared at him, eyes growing shinier with unshed tears. “You waited until now to say that?”

“I waited until I could mean it with every ounce of my soul,” he said. “I was a fool. I kept thinking I could keep you close while trying to satisfy the expectations placed on me. I thought maybe if I stayed quiet long enough, I’d find a way where no one got hurt.”

“Well,” you said, laughing without humor. “That didn’t work out so well, did it?”

“No,” he admitted. “It didn’t.”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“That’s okay.”

“And I still don’t know if I’m just something you want because your father told you not to.”

“Y/N, I promise—”

You cut him off. “But I missed you.”

His mouth parted, eyes flickering with shock and relief. As if he’d been waiting to hear those words, and didn’t think he deserved them.

“May I?” he asked, voice tight, almost broken.

You nodded.

He stepped into your space, slowly, reverently, afraid you might vanish. His forehead touched yours first. Then his lips.

This kiss wasn’t like the ones before, hurried or frantic or reckless. It was slow, as if he was building a home in the shape of your mouth.

You gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him back with all the ache of the weeks you’d spent apart. Your tears slipped between his lashes, and his hands shook slightly as they cupped your cheeks.

“I missed you,” you breathed, pressing your forehead to his. “You fucking idiot.”

“I missed you more,” he said, smiling softly. “You brilliant, beautiful girl.”

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you so tightly that for the first time in weeks, your ribs didn’t feel hollow anymore.

this was going to be longer, but i felt like the scenes i cut out did not match the vibes i wanted in the end… soooo there’s a bonus scene here if you’d like to support my writing

#nct x reader #nct dream fic #nct dream x reader #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct fic #nct x y/n #haechan fic #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan x you #nct haechan smut #haechan x y/n

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hellenhighwater · 1 month ago

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Update on THE BIG!

In an absolutely freakish turn of events, a junkyard near my brother wound up with an exact duplicate of this car--a '54 caddy limo, which is a very rare car. It was already a bit picked over by the time he got to it, but he still managed to salvage a lot of parts that would otherwise have been very expensive to source. (Bottom row is the Sacrificial Big; we thank her for the organ donations and wish her the best in her next life as a tin can.)

Equally exciting, the engine is finally in a state where the car actually runs. Noises in the video! Notably, the brakes don't work yet, so it's not yet time to leave the driveway, but there's road tests in the near future. Steady progress! And when THE BIG is finally done, he can return to his true passion: '80s Hondas.

#i can take credit for none of this #he just sends me updates on the big for 'my internet' and then i send him screenshots of the best notes and tags

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joshujin · 1 month ago

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dude, nice try! masterlist

pairing: joshua x fem!reader status: updates in progress word count: 24k words / ??? genre: strangers to lovers, revenge fic, humor, smau bits original request here

joshua hong has had the immense privilege of living 30 whole years without ever feeling so much as an ounce of jealousy. that is, until you come prancing into his picture-perfect life on your dumb burner account with evidence that his long-time girlfriend is cheating on him… with your boyfriend.

as he gets tangled up in your chaotic plan to get back at your adulterous partners, he begins to wonder if this growing discomfort in his chest was ever even heartbreak to begin with, or if it’s something entirely new to him—something that has the ability to eat him alive from the inside out.

content warnings: cheating (not between main ship), strong language, mentions of sexual activity, implied sexual activity, highly emotional reader, toxic tendencies (i mean. it's revenge.), more to be added as we go

chapters

✦ teaser ✦ part one - 9.4k words ✦ part two - 14.6k words

♫ get him back! olivia rodrigo �� my kink is karma chappell roan ⟡ hot girl bummer blackbear ⟡ womanizer britney spears ⟡ mascara xg ⟡ see u never niki ⟡ good to me seventeen ⟡ is this love xg ⟡ yes or no jungkook ⟡ why can't i? liz phair ⟡ focus h.e.r.⟡ selfish justin timberlake ⟡ pano zack tabudlo ⟡ miss me too griff ⟡ clean taylor swift

credits: divider by @cafekitsune, photos from pinterest (ctto), cover by me

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awrkive · 10 months ago

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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 ]

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

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

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts angst #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #svt smut #svt x reader #bts x reader #fic: tlp #awrkive

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ahundredtimesover · 2 months ago

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Something About You (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, minor injury (18+)

Word count: 17.9k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: My favorite Koo look! Hope you're enjoying this series so far!

[From: kook] Leaving in a bit. Be there in 20.”

You turn off your laptop camera and quickly give Jungkook a call, wanting him to hear your cutesy, pleading voice for this request.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks on the other end.

“Hello to my amazing friend. I’ve run out of tea and I really need one,” you cry out. “Do you think you can get or make me a cup? Please?”

“Sure, there’s a cafe near my place,” he chuckles. “Anything specific?”

“Chamomile or jasmine,” you respond. “Thank you! I’ll see you in a bit!”

You end the call and quickly get back to your meeting, your fourth one of the day, and it’s only been seven hours since you clocked in at work. You’re thankful for work-from-home Fridays but somehow they’re even more tiring, at least recently, given the upcoming holidays and people taking their respective leaves.

Like many at your firm, it’s your last day before you take a few weeks off then return in early January. Everyone’s doing end-of-year meetings and pre-planning for next year. There are financial reports to submit and project updates to consolidate. You were able to get all the paperwork done overnight so you could focus on your meetings during the day and you just can’t wait for it to be over so you can completely switch off.

“I guess that wraps it up,” your manager says after you provide a progress summary of all your ongoing research projects. “You got everything on-track and we’ll be starting next year on a good note. Thank you, ___. You deserve this break.”

“We all do,” you smile. “Enjoy the break, everyone! I’ll see you next year.”

You end the meeting and drop your head on your desk. Today was a marathon and you feel like you’re still running on adrenaline so you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You’ve got a couple of days of vacation with your friends and then several more with your family when you go to your hometown and that technically starts right now.

So you turn off your laptop, clear out your desk, and do a final check of your things before dressing up in time for Jungkook’s arrival in five minutes.

He’s already standing by the trunk of his car when you scurry down the driveway and drag your luggage to meet him. You apologize for making him wait but he waves you off to say that it’s okay. You load your things and quickly get into the passenger seat.

“Here’s your tea,” Jungkook says, handing you a hot cup that you excitedly receive.

You take a sip and hum in satisfaction at its warmth. The scent and the taste are already making you feel better, and you sink in your seat at the comfort it gives you. Releasing a drawn out hum, you feel your muscles slowly relax.

“Looked like you needed that, huh?” Jungkook says as he starts driving.

You’re both headed to the airport where you'll meet your other friends who are on their way there after work, too. Living close to Jungkook, he offered to pick you up so that there’s only one of your cars you’ll leave at the parking for the duration of your trip to Sapporo.

“Totally. I was up until 4AM getting all of my paper work done,” you sigh.

“And what time did you wake up?”

“7:30.”

“Yah, that’s not a healthy sleeping habit,” he reprimands you.

“Says the guy who used to do exactly that,” you point out.

“Those were college days. I’m an adult now, you know? I get at least seven hours of sleep because any less and I’d be a dysfunctional mess.”

“It’s so weird how we’re at that age where we require a lot of hours of sleep but then in 10 years’ time, our body will just decide it can survive with four.”

“We produce less melatonin as we age,” he informs you. “But you know what’s funny about my 4 - 10 AM sleeping pattern before? People thought I was up studying but I was really just playing video games for most of it.”

“Oh I’m not surprised,” you shake your head. “I already knew you're the one who influenced Jimin’s sleeping habits. He used to follow a strict curfew and then you messed it up.”

“Yeah and now he thanks me because he’s now used to it. He says it’s how he survives his job.”

“Working in advertising requires that, I guess,” you frown. “At least he gets to have a break. At least we all do! I am completely shutting off so please call me out if I talk about work.”

“Sure, that’ll be fun,” he chuckles. “Can I call you out on other things, too?”

You make a face at him and say he’ll do that anyway even if you tell him not to.

You yawn for the third time in the past minute and Jungkook turns to you.

“Sleep. It’s a long drive so might as well get some of your energy back,” he says. “I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

“Okay,” you say as you yawn again. “If I snore… just suck it up.”

He playfully rolls his eyes then points to the lever that adjusts the seat so you can lie down more comfortably. He puts some mellow music on and you fall asleep instantly, curled against your arms and soft snores escaping you.

Jungkook can only laugh to himself as he sneaks glances at you during the ride. It was about a month ago when he told himself that the way to deal with this maybe harmless and fleeting crush he has for you is to spend less time together. That was only slightly possible because there was some lunch or dinner with your friends every weekend, but it wasn’t as if not seeing you meant he wasn’t thinking about you.

Of course he still was. He thought about you a lot and wondered how you were doing. For the first time, he was thankful for his stressful job and the busy days of making student reports for the end of the semester, which meant he couldn’t always meet you every time you asked if he was done with work or if he was in the area where you were. He was always tempted to just drop things to see you but he knew that would make things more complicated for him.

But then again, he hasn’t even fully grasped exactly what he feels yet. Is it admiration? A newfound fondness? Did he just need to rid himself of some past baggage that he didn’t even realize he was carrying for things to make sense to him?

Regardless, he knew that spending more time with you - for an extended period of time, and in close proximity - isn’t going to make things easier. But Taehyung just had to spring this trip on all of you and no one could refuse because he’s actually the other baby of the group that everyone has a soft spot for and he’s leaving for who knows how long again in a few months.

Jungkook’s not complaining at the least because he’d go anywhere with his friends. He just finds it a bit comical that this is exactly what he said he shouldn’t be doing but here he is now - on another long drive with you asleep next to him, with a two-plus hour flight ahead to a city he always wanted to go to, and a few days of winter coldness that might cause him to seek your warmth in one way or another. Or you might seek his for all he knows and that might actually be worse.

He just shakes his head and focuses on the road after glancing at you again. He’s not really the type to overthink things. He’s fared well in most aspects of his life by going with the flow and dealing with whatever comes his way.

Though his relationships are another story, he supposes those youthful years were characterised by a level of insecurity and lack of trust in himself that made him hold onto things that didn’t feel right. He thinks he’s a lot more mature now - he’ll have conviction in whatever he feels for you, whatever it is, and he’ll accept rejection if that’s where it’ll lead to.

He’ll see where things go but for now, what matters is that he, you, and all of your friends get to enjoy this trip as much as possible.

Jungkook finally makes it to the airport and checks in his car for a few days of parking. He wakes you up and you take a while to open your eyes. He pats your head when you do and reminds you that you’ll have more time to sleep on the plane.

You dazedly drag your luggage and you pout at Jungkook who giggles at your sleepy state.

“I’m so tired,” you pout at him as you both make your way to the check-in area where the rest of your friends are waiting.

“I can tell. Let’s just get through the gates and then you can sleep somewhere there, okay?”

You nod as if you’ll cry any moment, and part of him wants to just pull you close so you can lean on him while you sleep but that might be too unexpected so he just puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you from falling.

“Princess can’t stay awake?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the airport chatter.

“She barely got any sleep last night and she had meetings all day,” Jungkook informs your friends who have gathered where you are.

“Aww, poor thing,” Jimin hums as he hugs you, and you respond by hugging him tighter.

“Let’s get to the gates then,” Yoongi orders. “There are lots of places we can eat and rest at.”

You all line up and slowly get through the check-in line before you’re able to head to the gates. Gyu-rim finds a table big enough for 12 at a restaurant and while all of them order their meals, you stay seated, with your head on Jimin’s shoulder and on your way to dreamland once again.

“Let’s take turns,” Mo-eum tells him, as she finishes her rice bowl first then shifts your head to lean on hers after.

You briefly wake up to have a few spoonfuls of your bulgogi before offering the rest to Jungkook and then taking quick naps again. You’ve seriously never been this tired. But you feel like your body knew it could afford to just shut down because you’re on vacation. It just didn’t plan it well enough because you’re in the middle of the airport, just randomly dozing off.

You finally board the plane and find that you’re seated next to Jungkook who’s on the window seat, and Taehyung and Mo-eum are on the row in front of you, while an aisle separates you from Jimin. It’s a good enough arrangement, and Jungkook helps you load your carry-on in the overhead compartment before you take your seat and immediately rest your head on his shoulder.

It’s a natural thing for you to do, and you suppose your friends are used to you by now. You make yourself comfortable then look up to smile at Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fall asleep once we take-off,” you tell him.

“I’m sure you will,” he chuckles, as he looks through the emergency instructions.

“Have we sat next to each other on a flight before?” You ask.

“Uh, I think this one flight to Jeju,” Jungkook responds. “But that was some time ago. I might’ve been asleep then.”

“Hmm, that’s why,” you hum.

“What?”

“I didn’t realize how comfy you are.”

“It’s probably the clothes, ___,” he reasons, more to himself. “I need them to be fluffy and warm because it’s winter.”

You adjust yourself again before resettling your head on his side.

“Maybe.”

Jungkook doesn’t overthink it. You’ve leaned on his shoulder lots of times before. This isn’t out of the ordinary. But with you pointing out that you haven’t really sat next to each other on flights before reminds him again of how you’ve always just been part of the whole. And now he’s got this time and proximity with you and it’s comforting but also exciting.

Even if yes, he’s just playing games on his phone while you flick through the airplane magazine while waiting for take-off. Once you’re up in the air and the seatbelt light has turned off, you push back your seat and start dozing off.

Your head keeps slipping from the position it’s in, even as he tries to straighten it so you don’t hurt your neck in the process. Perhaps out of discomfort, you briefly wake up to unlatch the table then lay the pillow and your head on it. Even then, it constantly bounces from the slight turbulence so you sit back again and shift your body in search of the right position.

Jungkook sees you cross your arms against your chest and assumes you’re cold, but just as he’s about to cover you with his airline-provided blanket, Mo-eum peeks her head from between the seats.

“She needs to hug something when she’s asleep,” your best friend says.

“Oh, uh—”

You curl your body in the seat and snore softly, and Jungkook can sense your body’s need for a proper position. So he lightly taps you awake, grabs a spare hoodie from his bag on the floor, then places it on his lap. He gestures towards it and you take the offer, immediately pulling up the arm rest and laying half of your body on top of his.

You bend your legs and adjust yourself. You have your pillow on top of his jacket that’s on top of his lap, your blanket over you and then his blanket for you to hug. You release a low moan then your breathing steadies. Figuring out your position must’ve tired you, but with how fast you’ve fallen asleep, he figures you’ve found the right one.

Is he glad it’s on his lap? Not exactly, and only because it’s a kind of closeness he’s not used to with you, and he’s worried he’d look for it. But it doesn’t matter because you’re comfortable and he’d gladly help you get that much deserved rest in whatever way. Even if it’s at the cost of his stupid heart.

Mo-eum peeks again to check on you and giggles when she sees where you ended up. She turns around and kneels on her seat to take a photo of you slumped on Jungkook’s lap while the said man poses.

“Cute,” she smiles, before sitting back down and showing it to her seatmate.

It prompts Taehyung to turn around, too, laughing under his breath at how Jungkook is trying to figure out where to place his hands, now that you’ve hijacked his personal space.

But Jungkook does figure it out, as he holds onto your arm to keep you from falling in case there’s another turbulence. Thankfully there isn’t, and when it’s announced that the plane will now start its descent so everyone must sit upright, he wakes you up and tells you that you’ll be landing soon.

You were in deep sleep and having a good dream that you don’t remember and the next thing you know, someone’s shaking your arm and telling you to wake up. Feeling like you’re on a bed, you shift your body and stretch your arms. But then you hear a groan and you look up to see Jungkook glaring at you.

“Did I hit your face?” You gasp, suddenly sitting up then turning his chin to check any damage. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“You hit my jaw,” he groans. “But yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oops,” you sweetly smile.

“Hey, you don’t apologize like that to me or Jimin when you hit our faces,” Taehyung remarks, turning his head and cocking his eyebrow.

“That’s because Kook has a precious nose that must always be protected,” you reply with a straight face. “You don’t.”

“Yah!” Jungkook exclaims, knowing it’s a running joke in your group.

He pinches you in retaliation but you giggle at him and pinch his cheeks in response.

“I’m kidding. Thanks, Kook. I’ve regained my energy and now I feel ready to take on the day,” you confidently say.

“___, it’s 9:30 PM,” Jungkook deadpans.

“I’m really hungry, too,” you add, disregarding his statement.

“So now we have to deal with an energetic and hungry you? At this hour?” Jungkook groans.

“Order food with me when we get to the hotel?” You ask, not minding his complaints.

“And if it’s closed?”

“The convenience store, then!”

“Now I’m the one who’s tired.”

“No, you’re not! You can’t be!” You pout at him with your puppy eyes.

“Fine, whatever,” he gives in as he always does.

You’re talking about the dream you don’t remember when the sight of the snow-capped streets catches Jungkook’s attention. You see his doe-eyes go wide and he looks so innocent, but you understand the amusement - it looks stunning outside and you can’t wait to bury yourself in the pillowy ice and breathe in the chilly air.

Both of you just look out while waiting to land and disembark. You manage to get all your luggage quickly then head to three separate rented cars to drive to your lodging for tonight.

The hotel restaurant isn’t taking orders anymore so you announce to the group that you and Jungkook are going to the convenience store across the street. Jimin, Namjoon, and Suhyeon join you, and you’re skipping out the lobby to get your snacks in no time.

Jungkook tells you to be careful because the roads are slippery but you show-off your sliding skills that make you feel like you’re ice skating. He copies you and shows off, too, speeding his leg movements as he walks down an icier path.

But then he slips and falls to the ground, and you can’t help the way you laugh at his mishap. You can hear your other three friends laughing as they walk towards you, and Jungkook remains lying on the ground, laughing, too.

“You’re so clumsy,” you mock him, as it’s one of the things he says to you whenever you fall or hit something.

“I was just trying to show you what not to do,” he makes a face before taking the hand you’ve reached out for him to take. “So don��t go skating and shit, okay? You might hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. I’m not a show-off nor a klutz,” you say and stick your tongue out.

He frowns at you then pulls you by your cheek to enter the store.

You, Jimin, and Jungkook stay together while you go around and drop various things in your basket that you think Taehyung and Mo-eum would like, too. You all get some chips, matcha cookies, chocolates, mini-cakes, instant ramen, beer... and about a dozen tuna mayo triangle kimbap because Jungkook is obsessed with them. You meet Namjoon and Suhyeon at the counter where they’ve filled their basket with a bunch of other things as well then head back to the hotel.

As is often the arrangement, the five of you share a suite while your seven other friends share one as well, and you make your way to the living room where all your purchases have been dumped on the table.

Being that you barely had dinner and Jungkook’s stomach is a bottomless pit, both of you make ramen and get one rice ball each while the rest munch on snacks and dessert. Spread across the couch and the floor, you all hold up your beer cans and make a toast to this trip.

Later that night, you watch the snow fall from the window as you sip the chamomile tea that Jungkook bought for you at the store. The city is beautiful at this hour and it feels cozy and romantic and exciting yet peaceful all at once. It’s a kind of feeling you’ve always wanted to experience, and now you know how a place can make you feel that way.

Like all the times your mind has travelled somewhere, you suddenly wonder if it’s possible with a person. And if maybe, somewhere in this town, they’re right by their window, thinking the same thing, too.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm the next morning. For the brief moment right before you open your eyes, you feel that sense of relief over what turned out to be a really good sleep.

Despite being knocked out the whole flight then eating and drinking late at night, you managed to get enough rest. You’ve truly switched off now. All you can think about are the sights you’ll see and food you’ll eat and all the time you’ll spend just walking through the snowy streets.

The last time you all went to Japan, it was an action-packed trip. You went to amusement parks and went partying at night. This time, everyone decided on taking things slow. Sapporo’s perfect for that, and you suppose it’s what you all need.

Sitting up from the bed, you see that you’ve kicked your blanket off the edge while Mo-eum is cocooned under the sheets. You like the cold and you wish you had the aircon at a lower temperature, but your best friend freezes easily so you let the room stay warm.

You tap her on the foot as an attempt to wake her up before heading out to the living area. The boys are in the other room and they seem to still be asleep. Wanting to see how the sun shines on the street outside, you pull open the curtains to let the light in and the way it does makes things look more enchanting.

But then a grunting sound disrupts your moment, prompting you to turn around.

It takes five seconds for you to notice Jungkook, who had camouflaged on the black couch with his black shirt and sweatpants and his arms behind his head. He seems to have slept there, as evidenced by the rearranged pillows and his half-lidded eyes gazing at you. The sun probably woke him up, so you apologize and try to close the curtains but he tells you it’s okay.

“Did you sleep here?” You ask, as you sit on the other end of where he is.

He groggily nods his yes.

“It was too hot in the room. Tae and Jimin had the aircon on fan mode.”

“Oh, that sucks,” you say. “Mo-eum had the temp high, too, and I ended up kicking my blanket on the floor. I like it cold.”

“Me, too,” Jungkook hums. “Good thing the couch is comfy.”

“You and Mo-eum can just switch places then,” you suggest. “The three warmies can stay in one room and you and I can enjoy a cold night.”

If Jungkook wasn’t awake five seconds ago, now he is. It’s not like he’s never shared a room with you before but with his little feelings recently, it might as well be the first time. He knows he can stay up with you just talking or saying nothing at all. You could also pass out and snore like crazy but then again, he wouldn’t mind that either. It’ll just be something new he’d tease you about, as if your snoring video that he shows to your friends isn’t enough.

“Sounds good,” he manages to say.

Yawning as he stretches, he asks you what the itinerary is for the day.

“Do you not read the group chat?” You laugh at him. “The schedule is pinned on there.”

“Not really.”

“How do you ever know what’s going on, then?”

“I wait for Jimin or Tae to tell me when it’s about something important because they know I don’t check messages,” he shrugs.

“You’re weird,” you playfully roll your eyes. “But anyway. We’re gonna have lunch, go to a beer museum, go to a mountain, check the–”

“You’re climbing?” He exclaims.

“We go by cable car, duh! Do you expect me to climb? In this weather?”

“You wouldn’t do it either way.”

“Excuse me, I climbed that mountain in Chungbuk,” you remind him.

“You mean I dragged you,” he chuckles. “And come on, ___. That wasn’t a mountain mountain. It was a short hike because we were already on the mountain. I just wanted to know if I had to drag your ass again or something.”

You make faces while he talks, prompting him to hit you with the small pillow.

“Yah!” You whine, hitting him back.

Jungkook turns into a childish man when he’s challenged or provoked. He tends to be nonchalant about most things but you also know that he likes to play around and tease. He also likes to show off his athleticism and agility because now, as you try to hit him back again, he’s effectively dodging you while landing his pillow shots on your face.

“Kook, I’m gonna get your annoying ass,” you groan, grabbing the bigger pillow and then hitting him a little harder, knowing it’s not gonna affect him anyway.

This dude is built like a brick. It just doesn’t seem like it because he’s always in loose clothes, but you know enough that not much hurts him. But you’re so into the pillow fight that he ends up lying down on the couch while you sit on top of him, your legs wrapped around his waist, and he’s there chuckling and blocking your hits.

You take a rest, essentially giving him an opening. But instead of attacking, he turns to you and places his hands behind his head.

“Okay fine, I’ll let you make one last hit then we call it quits,” he says, challenging you.

You consider it, and as you act like you’re going to smack his face, you instead drop the pillow and make a tiny pinch on the sliver of his stomach that’s been exposed from all his movements. He yelps in pain and you manage to get off him in time, or else he would’ve easily wrestled you or turned you over.

He chases after you to the kitchen though, and you’re definitely not fast enough for the Jeon Jungkook. Before you know it, you’re getting pulled by your shirt and being tickled in your torso that you easily give up, facing him in submission then catching your breath.

“You’re such a brat,” he frowns. “That hurt.”

He slightly raises his shirt and discovers the red mark on his stomach that you caused.

You gasp in surprise; you didn’t realize you hurt him that bad. You pout then hug him - a reflex almost because this is how you apologize to your friends when you get a little too intense - and apologize.

“Nah, a hug won’t cut it,” he says, not returning the act.

You look up at him with sorry eyes.

“Coffee?”

“Nope.”

“A 6-pack in the beer museum later?” You sweetly smile, knowing that’s his weakness.

He gives in. “Deal.”

“Wow, that was easy,” you chuckle as you let go of him.

“You leave a mark, you get me beer. It’s that simple,” he shrugs.

“I bet it didn’t even really hurt,” you cock an eyebrow.

“___, it’s literally red. Look. It might even have a bit of your nail stuck in there.”

He pulls up his shirt again to show you the crescent on his abdomen and though you feel sorry, you also can’t help but tease.

“Show-off,” you stick your tongue out.

“Hey, I worked hard on that.”

“I’m sure, and they look great,” you flash a smile.

“Kook, why are you giving ___ a private show this early in the morning?” Jimin says as he enters the kitchen.

Jungkook tries not to look scandalized at the comment even if he knows it’s just his best friend’s way of teasing.

“She pinched me.”

“The tiny, painful kind?” Jimin asks.

“Yes. And I was just showing her the damage.”

Jimin turns to you with a disapproving look. “You’re a brat.”

“I said I was sorry,” you pout at Jungkook again.

You look adorable and he can’t really be angry.

“She’ll make it up to me with beer at least.”

“That’s not too bad,” Jimin laughs. “Just be her punching bag and you’ll end up with lots of free things.”

Jungkook chuckles in agreement and proceeds to boil water for coffee. It’s 10:30 AM and you’re set to meet the rest of your friends in an hour for lunch, so you munch on another triangle kimbap and some snacks then get dressed.

As you’re going down the stairs to the lobby, you slow down to walk with Jungkook and you turn to him.

“You’re not mad, right? I’m sorry again,” you say softly.

There’s an innocence in your eyes as you utter the words and Jungkook has to stop himself from engulfing you in a hug.

It’s fondness, he convinces himself. It’s this tenderness that always cuts through at the end that gets him. You can be playful and rowdy and unforgiving sometimes but you’re affectionate and gentle and it catches him off guard. He doesn’t know why it’s never affected him like this before because he knows you’ve been like this to him before.

“I’m not,” he says, nudging your shoulder in assurance. “It’s stopped hurting and your nail marks will go away. You’re all good.”

“Good. We don’t want blemishes on those pretty abs,” you wink.

He laughs in your wake. He hopes the fondness he feels for you stays. He also hopes that’s all there really is.

The ramen place you find for lunch is a tiny restaurant that manages to fit all of you. You and Taehyung moan in satisfaction at the richness of the broth, content with your weak people’s palette that can only handle the lowest level of spiciness, whereas Jimin next to you winces because he definitely didn’t expect his level 7 to be that hot. But still, he says it’s one of the most delicious things he’s ever eaten and you’d have to agree.

The restaurant is buzzing in chatter and laughter because of all of you, especially when Gyu-rim calls out Jungkook’s bottomless pit of a stomach once again.

He ordered chashu don with his ramen but is on his second serving of the rice bowl after Suhyeon offered the one she couldn’t finish.

“You know how normal people stop eating after they’re full?” He says. “I end up eating five more portions.”

“Oh, we know,” most of you answer in unison.

“How good is it anyway?” You ask.

“Dude, it’s so good,” he moans, furrowing his brows; he tends to look angry when the food is delicious.

You open your mouth to signal that you want to try it and Jungkook prepares a spoonful for you. He’s about to hand it over but then you stand and lean over the table, so he feeds you and tips the spoon to make sure you get everything in your mouth.

It’s something he’s done with you lots of times before but this feels different. There’s that fuzzy feeling of doing this intimate act for you, even as a friend.

Because it’s just that, he reminds himself - an act of affection towards a person dear to him.

You hum with a full mouth with how good it is and urge Mo-eum to try as well, so Jungkook feeds her, too - something completely normal that doesn't elicit any unusual warm feeling. But he can’t keep his eyes off you still chewing your food while asking for another spoonful with the ramen broth this time after he said it was even better together.

You lean over again and Yoongi tells you to just order your own.

“We’re not in a rush. We can stay here for as long as you all want,” Hoseok - the one who keeps you all on track with schedules during your trips - says.

You smile in response then scurry to the ticket machine to order more. You’re served two bowls not long after, and you announce that you got another one so each person can try it at least once, starting with Jimin who gets two spoonfuls.

You prepare one yourself and lean over to Jungkook to feed him this time. He’s caught off guard but he opens his mouth in time before you complain that he’s taking too long. Returning to your seat, you get another bite for yourself then another.

“Yah, I gave you two spoonfuls,” Jungkook reminds you.

“Get from the other bowl,” you frown at him. “That’s why I got two!”

He laughs, only wanting to rile you up, but he does finish what your friends couldn’t, and there he goes again with his unnecessary fifth portion.

Once you’ve finished, you head to a local park that’s covered in snow. Jimin immediately runs and dives on one of the mounds he sees and you follow, loving the pillowy ice almost as much as he does. Soon enough, Mo-eum, Jungkook, and Taehyung are next to you, lying down and making snow angels, all the while giggling like little kids.

Your seven older friends all stand around and watch with the softest smiles on their faces.

“This is why we came here, right?” Hoseok hums. “To watch them be like this?”

“It’s like I’m watching our grown up children,” Yoongi says.

“We’re two years apart,” Gyu-rim points out. “They’re not that young.”

“I don’t know. I kinda feel like they are,” Yoongi replies.

“You’re just old,” she counters, quietly laughing when the other man chuckles to himself.

It’s a struggle getting off the ground when it’s so soft and cold. But your jacket is also added weight and you’re scolding yourself for not being agile like your friends who can easily get up and then run further into the park.

“Kook, help me,” you plead with your legs bent to your sides and your one arm raised. “I can’t carry myself.”

Jungkook sighs but pulls you anyway. You pant as you try to walk towards the frozen pond and he teases by saying that you probably need a piggyback ride or something.

“Will you give me one?” You smile sweetly.

“Nope,” he smiles back, and you pout at him in return.

He easily could, but Jungkook - normally - likes to tease you. He gives in most times, but he’s been trying to recall how he was prior to these possible feelings surfacing and he remembers that there were times when he turned you down or argued with you first before granting your request.

He’s trying to balance it out for that sense of normalcy he wants to maintain. He can’t have anyone, especially you, suspecting him of treating you differently, even if deep down, he wants to give you that piggyback ride or hold your hand while dragging you all the way to the center of the park.

But he goes with the latter. Similar to what he did during your hike months ago, he pulls you by the wrist until you reach the pond.

He watches you look around in awe. He does the same while stealing glances and he hopes no one notices. He’s not really ready to explain himself to anyone about something he’s still trying to make sense of.

The hour flies by. You spend it just walking around and having mini snowball fights where you all ban Jungkook because he was making snow boulders and burying Jimin in them. You buy coffee from a park stall and finish it by the time you’re back in your cars.

You head to a Beer Museum after. The building itself is stunning and you spend time just admiring it. Inside, you explore Sapporo and Hokkaido’s history and take time reading and watching the information presented. Jungkook, of course, heads straight away to the tasting section and begins eyeing which drinks he wants to sample.

He loves beer, which is ironic for a PE teacher who teaches his students about healthy living but like he says, too much of something is what makes it unhealthy. Plus, there are doctors who have worse vices and so he gets a pass.

And maybe he’s right. Jungkook has a high tolerance for many things and he knows when to stop but you also know he truly enjoys the taste, and not just the social aspect of drinking it.

You’re still exploring, as you’re more interested in learning more than drinking, but most of your friends have already gone ahead, with only Suhyeon and Hoseok walking alongside you.

“Don’t forget that you promised me a six-pack,” Jungkook reminds you once you get to him.

“Why, what did you do?” Gyu-rim asks you, knowing that’s the only reason you’d agree to buy Jungkook something.

“She pinched me on the stomach this morning and it left a mark,” Jungkook narrates. “It hurt like hell.”

“Is that why you were showing your abs to ___ in the kitchen?” Taehyung asks. “I was half asleep but I saw you. I thought you were being kinky or something.”

“I said the same thing!” Jimin exclaims, causing your friends to laugh.

“Yah! I had to show her proof because she didn’t wanna believe me!” Jungkook defends.

“Because you don’t even get hurt!” You answer back.

“Wow, that’s deep,” Jimin hums. “And totally off-mark. Kook is a sensitive one.”

“Yeah, but his body isn’t,” you pout, knowing exactly what your best friend means.

Jungkook laughs it off then returns to his beer tasting, claiming that he wants three cans of two different exclusive flavors. You agree and taste them at his insistence and decide to buy a variety of alcohol as well.

It’s close to sunset when you finish, then you all head to Mt. Moiwa for some scenery. It’s a chilly and entertaining ride to the top, with Hoseok and Jimin going from amused to terrified in seconds, and you’re glad you decided to join their cable car instead of Jungkook and Mo-eum who’d probably be dancing around because they’re not really scared of anything.

As you expected, the view is pretty special. Everything is blanketed in snow and the city lights add that urban charm. You stay there until the sun has completely set before going to your final stop of the night - the Christmas Market. It’s something you’ve always wanted to experience, so all of you walk through the streets and look at every stall for something to buy or taste.

Jimin and Yoongi try some mulled wine and Namjoon buys some cute figurines. Seokjin and Hayoung buy something to commemorate their last overseas trip before getting married, and you and Suhyeon munch on a pretzel.

And then there’s Jungkook - a gourmet sausage on one hand and a donut on the other.

“Kook, we still have dinner. You know that, right?” Hoseok laughs from next to him, clearly amused at how his younger friend can still have an appetite.

“Of course he does, that’s why he’s eating all this now so he has space for more later on,” Gyu-rim states. “Go on, Kook. Eat to your heart’s content.”

You stand next to Jungkook as you wait for Suhyeon who said she’ll order hot chocolate for you.

“Is it good?” You ask.

“Yup,” he mumbles. “Try some!”

Like always, you open your mouth and he feeds you the donut, prompting you to complain that sweets always go last. He just laughs at you and waits for you to finish chewing before letting you bite off his sausage.

“That’s good,” you hum, uncaring about the juice that drips on the side of your mouth.

“Yah,” Jungkook groans. He takes his napkin and wipes it off your face. “Are you a child?”

“You literally eat with sauce all over your face,” you call him out.

“And you’ve never wiped them off. Gee, thanks,” he counters.

“You’re an adult.”

“And so are you,” he chuckles while he continues to wipe you clean.

You stand there, clad in a loose jacket and a beanie that makes you look adorable, and he can’t help but smile once again. You’re such a handful sometimes but he likes this. He likes giving in to your requests and watching you enjoy it and maybe cleaning up your mess, too. He likes seeing you appreciate the things that he does. He likes knowing you’re curious about what he’s up to and then sharing it with him.

He doesn’t recall ever caring this much but he’s down that slope of finding everything you do so captivating that he might as well smile every time you breathe.

Suddenly he feels silly, and he makes a face at you to mask whatever he’s feeling.

You leave him once Suhyeon calls and Jungkook’s left there to shake his head and internally scold himself to get it together.

You return to the hotel, drop your things in your rooms, then head to the restaurant for dinner. It’s a spread of premium meat, hotpot that tastes like cabbage water, and some of the freshest seafood you’ve ever had.

You jump in your seat in delight and Jungkook does the same. After all the bickering, you know that both of you love food so much even if he enjoys it because he knows how it’s supposed to taste, whereas for you, most things are just delicious. It’s just funny that you’re only realizing now that both of you react to things pretty much the same way.

You’re back in the suite by 10 PM, and the five of you take turns in the bathroom while the boys play a card game with push-ups as punishment for the loser while you and Mo-eum act as both penalty enforcer and cheerleader.

The tiredness from the day slowly creeps in so you all retire to your rooms, upholding this morning’s agreement about who’s sleeping where.

Jungkook lies down on Mo-eum’s bed and half wishes that he’ll fall asleep soon so that he doesn’t have to spend more of this time alone with you. The last time that happened, his heart was doing weird things and now that might just happen again.

He starts to slowly doze off when your voice wakes him up.

“Do you want to put on a face mask?”

“Uhm, okay,” he stupidly gives in easily.

You grab two packs and a mirror from your pouch then try to put the mask on properly. You turn to Jungkook who now kneels next to you, as if asking him to fix it. He shifts it a little before putting one on himself. He turns to you as well and you flatten the edges, making sure you spread the serum from his jaw down to his neck, completely unaware of how you’re affecting him.

For some reason, you decide to sit in the space between the beds so Jungkook follows suit. There’s not much distance between the both of you but this isn’t the first time. He supposes he’ll just keep doing what he’s been trying to do - try to act normal while also figuring out exactly what he feels without making it obvious that something has changed.

“Today was good,” you hum. “I liked playing in the snow and walking around. And now it’s 12 AM but we’re not passed out. What a change from years ago.”

“Such a change,” he laughs, reminiscing about your post-university trips where you were finally earning money and spending it on shopping and partying. “Hong Kong was the worst.”

You and Jimin were drunk and entered the wrong hotel, and Jungkook was the one who looked for you and dragged your asses out of there before you fought the hotel staff for not letting you into your room.

You remember that night and smile behind your mask. “Oops.”

“So yeah, this trip is good,” he chuckles. “We just get to relax and do whatever we want and actually remember everything and you know, not end up fighting strangers and stuff.”

You laugh in response.

“I liked the park, too. And my free beer. Thanks again, ___.”

You’re reminded of your comment from earlier about him not getting hurt. It’s not that deep but given the conversations you’ve been having with him and the things you know that the others don’t, it may not have been the best thing to say.

“What I said when we were at the museum…” you start. “I know it might have a double meaning but you know what I meant.”

It takes a while for him to figure out what you’re referring to but when he does, he just shakes his head.

“I know what you meant and it’s totally fine. I didn’t take it the wrong way.”

“But still, I’m sorry,” you mutter.

“It’s okay. Why are you always apologizing though?”

“Because I… don’t wanna do or say anything that’ll hurt you,” you admit. “I mean duh, I don’t want to do that to any of my friends but with you, it’s different.”

Jungkook’s thankful that of all the times he agreed to put on a mask, it was tonight, because at least you can’t see the way his face falls at your statement.

Different? What does that mean? Surely it can’t mean the same different he feels towards you because you haven’t acted out of the ordinary with him at all.

But you’re unpredictable sometimes and he doesn’t really know what to expect.

“What do you mean?” He manages to ask.

“Like… it’s simple and unproblematic. We bicker, we tease, we comfort each other… You’re there when I need you; I’m there when you need me, but we don’t need each other all the time. You get what I mean? We’re close but not–”

“Too close?” He finishes.

“Yeah, and it’s a good thing,” you clarify. “It’s not like with Jimin where we get on each other’s nerves all the time but we worry about the other just as much. But that’s always how we’ve been. And with Tae… I miss him so much when he’s away but I can’t tell him that because I don’t want him to worry. And he worries a lot and that affects him.”

“Tae does worry a lot about you. At one point I thought there was…”

“Something more?” You chuckle, and Jungkook nods in response.

It’s something he asked his friend years ago but Taehyung insisted there wasn’t anything.

“I pushed myself so hard in university. And when I worked there after graduation, I lost myself for a bit and Tae was just always there. I guess I became dependent on him as a friend to an extent,” you explain. “So a bit of that still lingers. I want to tell him things but not every little thing so he doesn’t worry. And Jimin’s like family and families fight sometimes. All of that said, you and I have always been… normal, for lack of a better term.”

Jungkook hums, as he tries to find the right words to say. But he gets it. It’s not like he was ever jealous about your closeness with Taehyung or Jimin; it was just a fact he accepted because it had always been like that. A big part of it was definitely because he had Joo-yun early on, and that kept him from developing a closer bond with you unlike his friends.

And while he regretted the part where he could’ve gotten closer to you much earlier, he supposes maybe it wasn’t that bad. Like you said, what both of you share is simple and unproblematic. There are no expectations, no fights, no secrets.

Well, maybe now there is, and Jungkook is a little guilty for feeling things while you continue believing that everything between both of you is simple. He reminds himself there are no expectations on his end and that as far as he knows, he’s not fully acting on whatever he feels. He’s just… going with the flow.

He recalls that conversation at your apartment about both of you wishing you’d been better friends to each other back then. For him, it was about knowing your struggles and being there for you. Perhaps it was that distance that led to this kind of friendship you have now. He stops himself short of thinking that while this is normal, so is getting used to each other and developing feelings. You’re not a believer of friends turning into lovers so maybe your definition of normal is also different.

He wills his thoughts to stop forming right now, not when you’re in the middle of something pretty serious. He wants to assure you that he’ll keep that unspoken promise you made about being better friends to each other. On one hand, that could mean not crossing any line and keeping things simple, like you said. On the other hand, it might also mean just being honest and making you feel comfortable in being the same.

“I don’t want to do or say anything that’ll hurt you, too,” he finally says. “Tell me if I do, yeah?”

“I will,” you nod, and he can sense a smile behind the mask. “Can I be honest though? It’s hard to continue being serious when you look like that.”

He nudges your knee. “You’re the one who wanted to put this on!”

“I know, but then I got carried away,” you laugh, pulling the sheet mask off your face now and throwing it in the trash. “We’ve been having more deep conversations lately, Kook. It’s like we turned 28 and then poof, we became mature.”

“It doesn’t work that way but sure, ___,” he chuckles, clearing his face now, too. “I think experience does that. We realize what we want for ourselves and others, what we’re willing to tolerate, and what we want to focus our energy on. And we’re barely 30. We’re not even close to our peak.”

“So I’m gonna be even more mature?” You gasp. “Are you gonna be ready for that?”

“Okay, much as I’d like to tease you, you honestly don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re wise and mature and deep and shit, and not just because you’re an intellectual,” he clarifies. “You’re a smart person who also feels things, and I think maturity stems from that.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” you say, yawning as you crawl into bed. “But you’re a lot more mature than I am.”

“I’ll take that,” Jungkook smiles.

He lies in bed and turns off the night light. There’s a beat of silence before your sleepy voice echoes in the room.

“Kook?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for always making me feel better about myself. It means a lot.”

Your deep breathing follows and he supposes you’ve already fallen asleep. He wishes he’d said something right away but he couldn’t find the words, like always.

He holds onto the fact that that was your last thought before you knocked out and he was at least awake to hear it. He’s sure you know he heard you and that should be enough.

You wake up much better the next day, given that the room temperature was what you wanted. You were curled under the covers with your feet warm from your socks, and there’s just something refreshing about feeling cold in the morning.

It’s a much earlier call time today, as you’ll be taking a train to a nearby town. You all get ready, and you’re doing your makeup in the living room while you glance at Jungkook doing his morning skincare routine.

You remember a time when Hayoung used to scold him for not wearing sunscreen despite spending all day outdoors. Eventually he developed that habit, including putting on toner and moisturizer. He has a headband on and it causes you to giggle.

Even without trying, Jungkook looks adorable sometimes. His oversized tan hoodie swallows his body. The way his hair falls over his forehead and his large, bright eyes make him look like a boba ball. There’s something so endearing about him as he alternates between two pairs of sunglasses because he can’t figure out which to wear.

“Second one,” you call out. “It settles cutely on your nose.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or…”

“I’m disappointed you’d even think I would ever insult your nose!” You gasp.

Walking towards him, you adjust the black jacket over his hoodie and fix his bangs.

“You’re so dramatic,” he chuckles, feeling his throat immediately dry up with you being so near him.

It’s another one of those normal things you do often that suddenly means more to him now. You’ve also always looked nice barefaced but when you’re made up and this close to him? He wonders if you’ve always been this pretty.

“I mean it. This nose has super powers,” you say, pinching them out of reflex.

“And what does it do?”

“It keeps me from getting angry when I’m hungry. Too cute.”

“You’re so annoying,” he groans, as you laugh and yell out for your other friends to finish up.

They eventually do and you decide to separate from the older ones at least for today’s coffee run. You find a nice cafe and order some drinks and fluffy pancakes that’s perfect for this weather, and then you meet the rest in the train station for this morning’s little excursion.

The coastal train ride to Otaru, especially during winter, is apparently a must-do. And you agree, as you lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder while the ocean comes into view. It’s so scenic, as the waves crash on the shore, just like that famous painting, and there’s that enchanting feeling once more in seeing the snow-covered town.

The 45-minute trip is spent looking at the views while talking to Mo-eum who sits in front of you, and occasionally taking photos of Jungkook and Jimin right behind you. You savor the simplicity of the experience and the fact that over a decade in, you still get to enjoy this with your friends. To remain this close and to have them so constant is a blessing, and something you don’t ever want to take for granted.

You arrive in the port city and immediately fall in love with it. From the architecture to the historical mansions and quaint streets, it gives such a unique and warm vibe despite the icy winds and snowfall.

You all decide to get hot drinks while you make your way to the frozen canal. There’s so much to see and just like yesterday, you take your time in taking in your surroundings, with the occasional snowball fight care of Jungkook at the expense of poor Jimin. It’s one of the few entertainment sources of the morning. There’s also making a Yoongi snowman and trying your butts at snow sledding using your puffer coats. The film cameras that Jungkook and Hoseok bring capture it all.

The group separates into two when you find a Music Box Museum that you want to explore while Jungkook and Yoongi choose a brewery to taste their season-exclusive drinks. Jimin and Gyu-rim join them so the rest of you head to the stunning building and look through thousands of music boxes and Christmas decorations. You reconvene after two hours and aren’t surprised when the other group brings back a few bottles of liquor that they said they wanted to try tonight.

You choose one of the dozen seafood restaurants on a popular street for lunch and you really can’t go wrong. This, for certain, is the freshest seafood you’ve ever had, and you spend the majority of your time eating just humming in satisfaction at everything you put in your mouth. And laughing, because while you admit to being dramatic sometimes, your friends overtake you in the eating department.

Because there’s Hoseok clapping after every new dish, there’s Jimin bowing his head down while moaning after every bite, there’s Gyu-rim cursing every five minutes, and then there’s Jungkook jumping in his seat and making the most bizarre hand gestures to express how delicious the food is.

It was definitely an experience, and you’re glad that Taehyung insisted on doing this.

You all walk back to the station to look at the other structures and to digest everything you ate. In less than an hour, you’re back in Sapporo and in your hotel room, needing the short break before the long drive to your next destination.

It’s hilarious Japanese reality TV shows and more convenience store snacks for an hour and a half in the living room before you leave late in the afternoon to head to another town.

You decide to sit in the backseat with Taehyung and Mo-eum this time. If it were with any of the other two guys, there’ll definitely be a lot of smacking and pinching and you can’t afford to be violent during the drive. It’s peaceful enough, as you spend it just talking about random things and before you know it, you arrive at a restaurant for your yakiniku fix for dinner.

The sun has set and you spend most of the ride with the windows down. The cold doesn’t seem to bother anyone and it’s just quiet - perhaps sentimental, too - until you reach your rented home for the next three days.

The place is stunning and you all thank Taehyung and Seokjin’s parents for covering your lodging because they said it’s been a while since you’ve been complete and you deserve the luxury this place brings. It’s something they often did and you suppose it’s just a rich family thing to do and you’re not one to complain.

All four bedrooms are on the first floor and like always, the five of you younger ones take the biggest of them, which already has the mattress on the floor anyways that Taehyung calls dibs on. You climb up the stairs to the living and dining rooms and find a huge open space that’s perfect for all of you. It opens to an outdoor area that houses the hot tub and sauna.

You’re glad it’s a detached house. That way, you can laugh and stay up late as much as you want and it won’t bother anyone. You can’t wait to spend your nights here.

It’s just past 8 in the evening and Jimin suggests going for the hot tub and taking turns because not everyone’s gonna fit.

“Well, not everyone’s gonna dip,” Yoongi shrugs, as if you all don’t know he’s one of those people.

But he’s right. Seokjin, Hayoung, and Hoseok join him in being spectators as they sit on the table outside while the rest of you take a spot around the tub and take turns on entering it.

You feel comfortable in your olive green bathing suit. Despite being out in the open, the heat from the water is enough to balance things out. There’s a spread of alcohol and other snacks that you pick from and like you expected, it’s a lot of laughter and reminiscing and discussing plans of future trips.

You look at each of your friends, the people who have been with you for over a decade, and you think about all the years in between. You’ve all definitely matured. It’s not just in the wrinkles or the responsible alcohol consumption or the complaints about sore legs after today’s walking spree.

It’s in the comfort of each other, the fulfilled promises of making time to be together despite the busy schedules and the distance. It’s in indulging what one person wants because doing anything as a group is the priority. It’s in the relief in your eyes knowing that at a time when people tend to lose sight of the important things, you’ve all made it a point not to lose each other.

That brings you to another thought, something you voice out.

“We are such a good looking group of friends,” you state, almost out of nowhere.

But really, from the camping trip that had you all looking a bit raggedy to this trip where you’ve been bunched up in thick clothes or with barely anything on, like right now, it’s something that just entered your mind.

“I’m surprised no one else decided to date each other apart from Seokjin and Hayoung,” you continue.

It’s not an uncommon topic amongst you. In fact, it’s one of those things you like teasing each other about, given all the history.

“Yoongi and Gyu-rim will. In 10 years,” Jimin states, and the people in question just shake their heads in response because this isn’t the first time and they’re unfortunately used to this.

“Mo-eum and I have a pact that if we’re still single at 55, we’ll marry each other,” you announce.

“___, I was drunk when I agreed,” your best friend laughs.

“No taking it back. We pinky promised,” you glare at her.

“Yah! Both of you will surely find someone before then,” Taehyung exclaims.

“Well, it could’ve been you,” Mo-eum tells him.

A round of “oohs” echoes in the room, prompting her to smile sweetly and Taehyung to chuckle and say that’s probably true.

It’s that kind of history you all like unearthing and resurfacing every once in a while. Come to think of it, it was over five years ago during your trip to Tokyo when your best friend revealed that she actually liked Taehyung during your junior year of college but she never had the guts to say anything, only for him to start liking her right after she got over it.

The confession shook everyone because no one knew, even you. And knowing how your best friend is, it would’ve been something she was really shy or nervous about if she never told anyone.

“Hoseok, care to top that?” Jimin teases now as he smirks at Suhyeon, who understandably splashes him with water.

“No, I don’t,” Hoseok laughs. “Brat.”

“Well, that ship could’ve sailed if someone wasn’t such a coward about it,” Seokjin eyes him.

Hoseok’s “what-if” with Suhyeon happened in real time, where everyone knew they had feelings for each other except for both of them. Despite all of you urging them to just make a move, one made a small step but the other was too scared to risk things and it didn’t fall through.

Both of them now have partners outside of your friend group though, and they’re even better friends this time, something that Suhyeon points out.

“When you think about it, it’s really just about timing,” Namjoon reflects. “Whether it’s liking someone at a certain point or believing you’re ready enough to go for it, it’s about the other person being on the same boat - liking you at the same time and being ready when you are.”

“True. I mean, Hayoung and I luckily liked each other at the same time,” Seokjin nods.

“Liar. You had a crush on her the year before she admitted her feelings,” his younger brother calls him out.

“It was harmless!” Seokjin argues. “We went to a farm where the chickens chased her and she started running and yelling like crazy and I thought she looked adorable. It didn’t mean much until she couldn’t hold herself back from saying that she thought I was handsome.”

“It was still a crush,” Taehyung points out.

“And it materialized a year later! That happens, too. Admiration or affection for someone doesn’t always mean it has to be something more right away,” the older man counters. “Sure, we could’ve dated much earlier if I’d said something but it also could’ve gone nowhere if I went for it right then. Or she could’ve rejected me. I didn’t wanna pressure her or make it feel like she had to return the feeling, which really was just a crush.”

“True,” Hayoung hums. “I probably would’ve thought he was unserious about it or I would’ve kept my distance because I didn’t feel anything then. Like Joon said, it’s about timing. Seokjin held out and thankfully, I got to him in time.”

“She ended up falling more in love with me so… it all worked out well,” Seokjin winks.

Everyone just laughs because you all know the truth - Seokjin is crazy about Hayoung. It’s a given that he’ll be the one bawling his eyes out during their wedding.

Jungkook laughs along as the teasing continues, thankful this time that given his history, people are a bit cautious of asking him about his thoughts when it comes to relationships.

But his friends’ words linger in his mind, even as the conversation shifts to something new.

Seokjin and Hayoung’s love story always seemed so simple to him - two friends who always got along well and one day realized they felt something more. Looking at how they are, it’s as if there’s really no one else made for them but each other.

But of course, it’s never as simple as just confessing their feelings and being lucky that the other person felt the same way. It’s also about knowing what’s worth risking and when to do so. It’s about being ready to deal with the consequences, whether you’re taking a step back, forward, or staying right where you are.

Like what Seokjin said, it isn’t always about being something more right away. Jungkook thinks that maybe feelings aren't something you just have; it’s something you settle into.

The hours pass and Jungkook doesn’t notice them flying by. Between the conversations, the premier Japanese liquor and convenience store snacks, and lying on the snow by the edge of the deck then retreating to the hot tub, there’s a lot going on.

But he’s far from tired, and even if the temperature has dropped even lower, he still wants to stay out here and let his body relax.

The others have gone ahead to wash up and get ready for bed but there’s still you, Jimin, and Gyu-rim with him outside, talking about the latter’s non-existent but probable relationship with Yoongi.

“You’re the most comfortable when you’re together and it’s the same with him,” Jimin points out. “That doesn’t happen overnight and it certainly doesn’t happen with just anyone. I’m just saying that it’s something to think about. Finding someone new isn’t the only option, you know?”

Gyu-rim, who surprisingly hasn’t smacked Jimin yet for all the years he’s been insisting on this, just chuckles in response.

“I admire your commitment to this ship,” she concedes, knowing it’s better to just go along with the teasing than to react negatively.

It’s Yoongi anyway and there’s nothing to feel negative about.

“Let’s just say that I have deep love for my friends and I want them to be with people who know how to love them, or would learn how to,” Jimin responds. “I’ll shut up about it after this but I just wanted to give you that nudge. I’ve learned my lesson with the two what-ifs in our group because we just all stood by.”

She argues that sometimes, standing by is the better option but that she’s also at that age where she just wants a companion. Jimin says that he knows that Yoongi does, too.

Both of them eventually decide to retire for the night and you say you want to stay a little longer since you barely stayed in the tub. It’s just you and Jungkook now and with two people left, you take the chance to stretch your legs and submerge yourself in the hot water that you’ve slowly gotten used to. It even starts snowing and somehow that adds to your relaxation.

“So,” you turn to the man next to you who seems to be in awe of the snowfall as well. “You were quiet during all the relationship talk. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, his head leaned back but facing towards you. “I guess I’m like you when I’m with more mature people. I just listen.”

“And reflect?”

“A bit of that,” he hums, shifting his gaze towards the trees now.

With you in that bathing suit next to him, it’s just another version of you that he suddenly finds pretty.

“About what?” You ask.

“Settling into feelings, I guess. How we don’t always need to act on them right away because they could be mild or fleeting or confusing or just… something that develops over time and that needs time for it to be right or enough. Or certain.”

You let his words linger. It’s something you definitely can’t relate with.

“Wow. I wish I knew that before my past relationships that failed because of my feelings that I immediately acted on,” you laugh, almost mockingly, at yourself.

“Acting on them isn’t always wrong, though. You shoot your shot when you can and you don’t always have time,” Jungkook tries to comfort you. “You could lose your chance completely.”

“That’s true but then like I said before, I get excited and impatient. Looking back, I guess I never really settled into my feelings for the people I liked because, well, it wasn’t something I thought about.”

“Me, too. It’s just something that got to me while listening to them earlier. Nothing too deep. I guess time and experience make you see and realize things that were always there but never really thought much about,” Jungkook states. “Suddenly they mean a lot more now.”

It’s the closest to being honest he could be with you about the thoughts he’s been having. Somehow this makes him feel better. He’s not lying to you or anything. He’s just settling into these newfound feelings for you.

Maybe they are fleeting or mild or confusing. Maybe it just needs time to develop into something that could be right and good enough for you, if it ever gets to that point.

Being with you right now, he’s trying to figure out what it is. It’s still a mix of everything but he’ll be patient this time. One thing is for sure though - he doesn’t want to scare you. If anything, he just wants to keep you close enough for a little while longer.

As you both lie in your beds later in the night - you next to Mo-eum and him next to Jimin - there’s space in between that perhaps resembles where you both are right now. You’re both lying on your sides and you stick your tongue out at him as good night right before you turn the light off.

He smiles to himself. It’s a good view from where he is.

It’s a little chaotic in the morning as all 12 of you take turns in the three bathrooms to get ready. People are washing their faces and brushing their teeth next to and behind each other. The men are dressing up in the hallways and in the living room while the women are behind closed doors.

And then there’s Hayoung and Suhyeon making sure there are enough water bottles for everyone and Hoseok who’s reminding you all about the proper outerwear and boots for today’s activity.

Right as you’re dressed, you feel the energy surge through you. You haven’t gone skiing in years and you’re looking forward to trying it again this time. Everyone else seems to feel the same way, especially Jungkook who keeps mumbling that he’s excited and pretty much skipping all around the house.

You put your heavy coats in the trunk and head out for a fairly long drive. You call shotgun because you like getting a wider view of the snowy streets and everyone agrees because it’s you. Jungkook drives like always, insisting that he genuinely enjoys it.

You arrive at a rest stop shortly after, as you all decided to just get snacks from there for breakfast. You divide and conquer - Jungkook orders the food and you join him because you’re curious, while the rest get the drinks.

Ordering at the ticket machine, you and Jungkook get excited about which snacks to get, even if you were confused about which buttons to press and when to pay. But you manage and buy a few flavors of the fried rice balls and croquettes then head back to the car. You start eating before Mo-eum and Taehyung return with the rest of the drinks and by the time Jungkook restarts the engine, he’s already devoured two of them.

He keeps both hands on the wheel and his eyes focused on the road while the rest of you munch on the food, humming in satisfaction and singing your praises.

You see his gaze constantly flit to the rice cake you’re eating. You think he’s probably itching to have one right now but he doesn’t want to risk putting you all in danger so you take out a piece for him to eat. Knowing he’s wary of the drive, you feed him and cup your hand under his mouth in case a piece falls.

“Hmm, that’s so good,” he moans, angling his head to the side for another bite.

You chuckle as he tries to get as much of it in his mouth so you appease him and say you’ll feed him so he can still eat them while they’re hot. He beams at you so endearingly and with his blue beanie and loose jacket on, he looks like a kid with his bunny smile and innocent doe-eyes.

It’s a complete shift from last night where he was half naked in the tub, toned abs and tattooed arm on full display. Like boys do, he, Jimin, Taehyung, and even Namjoon were all showing off their biceps and posing ridiculously like bodybuilders, triggering a pose-off and tummy ache-inducing laughter from the rest of you.

You can’t say it’s something that surprised you. Jungkook’s always been an athlete. You watched some of his swimming competitions when you were in college. You’ve also had dozens of beach trips. Toned bodies like what your friends have are normal to you and you’re often unbothered. They’re used to walking around without a shirt on and they have never felt shy around you; none of you girls ever felt bothered by it, either.

But you’re still a woman with fully functioning eyes and can appreciate a pretty physique when you see one. Jungkook just happens to possess it and being in close proximity to him reminded you of that. It’s just a funny thing to remember seeing how he is now. There’s just something so charming about him that makes you smile.

You continue feeding yourself and him throughout the drive, with him losing it with the cheese croquette, his favorite one out of everything. You bring up his iced americano to his lips, too. It’s your way of thanking him, you tell yourself, as he’s been taking on the long drives like always.

You finally make it to the ski resort and Jungkook skips all the way to the lobby. You all rent your accessories and equipment then head to the gondola all the way to the top. Despite the powdery snow, there’s still so much of it that it’s a struggle to even walk.

The view is stunning and the weather is cold and bright yet you already know you’re gonna suffer. But it’s the good kind. You’ll just brace through all the falls and face plants you’ll make but you’ll at least have fun.

It’s a group decision to snowboard first. As expected, there’s the group that can do it, and another that can definitely do better. The Kim brothers grew up doing this so their skills are not a surprise. Hayoung has done it a few times since dating Seokjin so she’s not bad at all. Namjoon is surprisingly good with his balance, Mo-eum is just good at anything sporty, and Jungkook obviously quickly relearned the ropes even though it's been years since the last time he’d done it.

And then there’s Yoongi who settles with little hops down the mountain and Gyu-rim just laughing along as they semi slide all the way. There’s Suhyeon content with cheering you on despite constantly landing on her butt, Jimin who falls after every turn, and then you who falls right behind him.

You’re just as tired at laughing at your mishaps than you are with all the face planting and swimming through snow you’ve both been doing. But you always end up turning on your back and marveling at your surroundings and the feel of the snow under you. At one point, you and Jimin almost give up.

You do manage two rounds down the slope while the others end up with a few more. You all rest at the cafe for a bit at Yoongi’s request and watch the few clips some of you managed to get of each other going down the mountain.

Skiing is a lot more doable. It’s something you’ve done more than once so it’s not hard to relearn it. But with now-sore legs and overworked muscles from all the laughing and tensing up, it’s still definitely a lot more than you can handle. But you push through because it’s seriously a lot of fun.

The snow is falling hard by the time you finish. Your hands feel frozen and your nose feels numb. Your legs and knees are definitely sore, and you feel the pain once you start going down the stairs.

Hayoung, who overdid herself a little, climbs on Seokjin’s back. You whine because you’re in pain, too, but you don’t want to trouble any of your friends who might be just as tired.

Taehyung stands next to you and chuckles at your pouty face and your eyes that are focused on your cousin and his brother.

“Do you want a piggyback ride, too?” he asks.

You nod and give him your puppy eyes, waiting for him to offer you one.

“Okay. Kook!” he yells out behind him. “Our princess needs a ride.”

Jungkook looks at him questioningly then you. “What?”

Taehyung eyes the couple not far ahead and Jungkook takes the hint.

“Ah,” he says, looking at your tired form. “Your legs hurt?”

“I can’t feel them anymore,” you wail.

You’re so dramatic that it makes Jungkook chuckle, prompting you to weakly smack his arm. But he gives in this time, seeing how helpless you look.

“Fine. Jump,” he tells you, bending low to help you get on his back then gripping your thighs to keep you steady.

It’s not a long walk back to the car but it isn’t an easy one, so you constantly apologize in between your grumbles of being in pain.

“I’ll pay for your drink at the whiskey museum tomorrow,” you promise him.

“Tempting but you don’t have to,” he says. “It’s fine. Being your carriage is totally a normal thing.”

“Hey,” you cry out. “Please? I’ll treat you something.”

“Or you can just say thank you. Really, ___. You don’t have to pay me back for every good thing I do for you.” He slowly puts you down and turns to face you. “Just… stretch and relax. The hot tub will help so get on it later. And maybe don’t snore too loud tonight.”

You laugh at the last part because of course he’ll sneak that in even if it’s unrelated, but you agree.

Sitting at the back this time, you lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder as you slowly doze off. He opens the window to let the cold air in to wake you up a little but you still fall asleep shortly after.

Jungkook glances at you from the rearview mirror. His heart did a thing again earlier when you had your arms around his neck, and then again when you sweetly smiled at him and said thank you before you entered the car.

It’s a little different this time though as it feels more like floating. Looking at you peacefully napping, it continues to do just that.

The famous soup curry is famous for a reason. It’s rich despite the thin broth and the meat is soft and tender. It’s exactly what you need after this morning’s adventure and paired with the draft beer, it’s every bit satisfying.

You gain a bit more energy after lunch, which you quickly expend during the car ride. Taehyung is the designated driver this time. Jungkook couldn’t resist the beer earlier, so you sit between him and Jimin and they alternate between teasing you mercilessly and cooing at you.

You play the injured card, quickly clarifying that it’s your ego that's bruised after face planting so many times. Mo-eum from the front says everyone was laughing at Jimin and Yoongi more than they were laughing at you. They expected you’d fall but that the other two looked like adorable baby pandas who couldn’t get their shit together in the snow.

It’s mid-afternoon by the time you get home, which is where you’ll be staying for the rest of the day. Everyone picks their spot in the common room and you take your place on the large couch next to Hayoung. The Switch is turned on and a battle begins but you can barely keep up as not long after, you doze off.

Jungkook manages to win one game of Mario Kart before he heads out with Yoongi to buy what they’ll need for tonight’s dinner. It’s an hour later when they return and when they do, you’re still lying down on the same spot, softly snoring and getting some needed rest. He brings out the muscle spray he bought at the pharmacy and Jimin is the first one to take it. It’s passed around and when it’s returned to him, he briefly looks at you to check if you’re already awake.

You aren’t, even with the shrieking going on because of everyone’s epic fails on Fall Guys. You have your hands together tucked under your cheek and your head laying on a pillow on Hayoung’s lap. There’s this urge to tease you about still being so tired but also to move your hair out of your face and caress your cheek.

He’s a little alarmed when you start opening your eyes, paranoid that he might’ve said something while fondly looking at you or if telepathy is actually real and you’d read what was going through his mind. But you mumble something instead and shift your body for a more comfortable position. He kneels down next to you and asks what you were saying.

“Did you beat Hoseok?” You mutter.

“Yeah, earlier,” he replies. “But I haven’t played since. Yoongi and I bought stuff at the supermarket. I got muscle spray for soreness, too.”

That piques your interest, as you open your eyes wider and ask where it is.

“Jimin’s hogging it. Let me get it from him.”

He gets back to you with the bottle and you lift your pajama pants to expose your legs. Your puppy eyes tell him that you want him to do it for you. He chuckles but gets to it right away, gripping your foot and spraying the liquid on your limbs. You linger, and Jungkook instinctively sits down and lays your legs on his lap, gently massaging them.

You moan in satisfaction and urge him to continue, earning you another chuckle. He works on your joints and your calves, knowing they just need to relax and that you’ll feel better soon enough. You’re lying on your back this time, but then Hayoung says she’ll go to the bathroom so you sit up and watch Jungkook work on your legs.

“You would’ve been a good therapist if you chose that path instead of teaching,” you tell him.

“My dad said the same thing. I used to massage him after a long day of laboring when I was younger,” he laughs. “Glad I haven’t lost my touch.”

“You’re good. I approve.”

Your face contorts in pain when he kneads the tender parts and you try to move his hand towards a different area.

“But that’s where it hurts,” he insists. “I’ll go gentle, I promise.”

You let him, but your hand remains gingerly on top of his just in case. He keeps his word and goes easy on you.

“Get in the hot tub later, yeah? That’ll help,” he advises.

You nod and instead of lying back down, you lean on his shoulder while he continues massaging you. You think you can fall back asleep with how this feels.

But then Gyu-rim suggests watching a horror movie because the last time you did that in the forest was so memorable that she wants to laugh at the scaredy-cats again.

So Taehyung puts some Japanese thriller he finds on the shelf and dims the lights, resulting in 90 minutes of shrieks, curses, the occasional “I give up” from Hoseok, and the timely laughter from the horror enthusiasts. It’s quite the experience but it’s the perfect build up to dinner.

Yoongi lays out a spread of sushi and various salads for your appetizer while baking slabs of premium beef in the oven. Jungkook makes a Japanese pork offal and vegetable soup dish that sounds so perfect for tonight. Everyone else is busy drinking and eating while he’s glued next to the pot so you go to him.

He turns to you and eyes the plate of sushi you’re holding.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“So good. So fresh,” you hum. “Here, have some before they finish it all.”

You feed him some, an act that’s somehow become reflexive for you these past days, and he nods in approval. You get a few more pieces and alternate between feeding yourself and him.

The aroma of the broth wafts through your senses and you can’t wait to dip your rice in a bowl of all that goodness.

“Is it done yet?” you peek inside the pot.

“You wouldn’t know even if you tried,” he teases,

“Oh shush,” you nudge him.

He laughs but he takes out a spoon, fills it with broth, then blows on it before feeding you.

“Yup, my chef palette says that’s good.”

To his surprise, it is, and you make a claim that you’ve gotten better at this.

It’s at the same time when Yoongi says that the meat is ready so you all gather at the dining table and have dinner. You finish with matcha tiramisu and cheesecake for dessert.

You start cleaning up with Namjoon and Taehyung while the rest of your friends either move back to the living room or head to the hot tub. You can hear them laughing and playing around outside, no doubt lying on the snow again or doing something silly, but you focus on your task then get dressed before heading out the deck.

You sit with Jimin and Suhyeon while the others take a rest. Just like last night, you alternate again so everyone gets a chance to take a dip. You end up staying a little longer, hoping the hot water will relax your muscles and get you feeling better for your last full day tomorrow.

One-by-one, your friends leave the tub to wash up, as the temperature continues to drop. You’re left with Jungkook once again and he sits next to you, both of your heads rolled back, and the sounds of the wind and bubbling water filling the space.

“Feel better?” He asks.

“Yup. I wanna stay here longer but I don’t wanna stay up too late and I still wanna drink,” you say, somehow feeling like the day is too short for you to do everything you want, even if you’ve done so much already.

“We can stay for a couple more minutes. Being here for too long isn’t good, anyway.”

“Fine,” you agree. “But today was a good one. Thanks for my massage.”

“What have I not done for you at this point?” He laughs.

“I’m a spoiled brat, aren’t I?” You call yourself out.

“A little bit,” he playfully shakes his head.

“Well, thanks for putting up with me,” you mumble, and he assures you that it’s not as bad as you make it sound.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Gyu-rim go out to drink at the picnic table on the other end of the deck and they raise their glasses to you in acknowledgement, warning you of Jimin possibly finishing off the sake if you don’t stop him.

You say you’ll wash up soon but remain on your spot, occasionally stretching your legs, until you return your focus to Jungkook and shift to face him.

With his whole lower body submerged in the water and only his neck and his damp hair on the surface, he doesn’t look as intimidating so you start playing around with his hair and attempt to tie a ponytail at the top, resembling a sprout. He grumbles under his breath but he doesn’t say a word. He just closes his eyes and lets you do what you want.

For Jungkook, an attempt to stop you would be futile. That would entail fighting you off and getting a little too close in such a small space, which again would be deemed normal if it wasn’t for his growing fondness for you. He tries to just watch what you’re doing but given your proximity, he thinks that closing his eyes would be better for his stupid heart.

“Ooh, you’re letting me tie your hair,” you point out. “That’s new.”

“I’d have to pry you away for you to stop and I don’t want you falling out of this tub or something,” he reasons.

“Hmm, you have a point.”

You giggle when you finish, and it’s at the same time that Taehyung appears behind the glass door and waves. He spots Jungkook’s sprout and starts laughing, too. Opening the door, he coos at his friend and pulls up his phone to take a photo.

You immediately scoot closer to Jungkook and pose multiple times before your friend gives a thumbs up sign and walks back inside the house. You can see the rest of them still in the dining room, looking like they’re playing card games and downing the remaining bottles of alcohol you’ve all been buying since you arrived.

Jungkook stands up from the tub and turns to the door to see what he looks like through his reflection. He frowns at you in response.

“Okay, sprout off,” you say once he sits on the ledge. “It doesn’t fit the muscle bunny Jungkook vibe.”

“What?”

“Your hair has to match your body. It looked fine when you were submerged in the water,” you reason, pulling the hair tie off him. “Now with these muscles and these abs and this tattoo sleeve, it’s a mismatch.”

“How is it that you analyze even these things?” He questions.

“It’s my brain. It just does.”

He descends back down once the cold air becomes too much and you’re just there, so close yet so far like many times before. There’s that urge to get even closer and just examine your face, now that he’s looking at you in a new light.

Settling in the feeling, he reasons to himself. Figuring out if it’s fleeting or something more.

He repeats the words in his head as he watches you flounder in the tub. You move to the end near the railing and the snow lightly falls on your head. It almost feels romantic, as you sit there with a soft look on your face and a sweet smile as you let the snow touch your skin.

But with you, unpredictability is a thing. Before he knows it, you’re scooting back close to him. You lift his right arm from under the water and start pointing out the tattoos that you think are new.

“I just had them colored. Some were redone,” he explains.

“Ahh,” you reply, wiping off the droplets on some areas so you can see them better, unknowing of the shivers you’re causing. “So do you just wear a jacket every time you’re at the school?”

“Pretty much,” he hums. “When it’s hot, I wear a shirt and then an arm sleeve to cover it up. Thankfully they weren’t too strict about it, although I was almost not accepted because of it. I just made up some story that I was trying to be cool in college so I got them but I straightened myself out and wanted a fresh start so I became a teacher.”

“Wow what a liar,” you respond. “You were getting new ones even after you got the job.”

“I know. But they don’t know that,” he laughs.

“I think it looks cool on you.”

“You called it a muscle bunny vibe,” he deadpans.

“It’s because you have an adorable bunny face but your body’s ripped. Bunnies are fluffy, chunky babies. They have puffy cheeks. They don’t have abs.”

“They could. If they exercised.”

His comment sounds ridiculous and it makes you laugh, as an image of a bunny doing crunches flashes in your mind. You think he imagines that, too, as he laughs right after. It’s a silly thing but it’s one of many things that you talk to Jungkook about. One evening you’re reflecting about feelings and relationships and the next, you’re picturing bunnies exercising.

“Yah, you two,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through your muffled laughter. “It’s getting too cold. You might get sick. Wash up soon.”

“We will already, uncle,” you grin at him.

You stand up and slowly make your way to the steps but Namjoon tells you to stop so Jungkook can help you down and avoid a probable accident. So he does, walking ahead of you then down the stairs before you take his hand and follow him.

Your room is still empty when you get your clothes. When you return after your bath, Mo-eum and Taehyung are on your bed, watching something on the laptop. Clearly yesterday’s conversation about their history didn’t change anything between them, as they’re as comfortable next to each other as they’ve always been.

There are still a few people at the dining table when you go there for a few drinks. You get the sake before Jimin finishes the bottle and you drink it and then some.

One-by-one, they start to retire for the night. You have a glass of beer that you want to keep drinking whereas Jungkook lost to rock-paper-scissors so he’s finishing the cup of mixed alcohol as penalty, so you both stay behind.

You tell him that he can throw it down the drain and you can keep it a secret but he honors the rock-paper-scissors code, he insists, so he’ll finish it off.

Keeping each other company has become a pattern for both of you recently, but you suppose it’s just the timing of everything. He moved into an apartment his cousin owns that’s closer to his school last year; it also happens to be 15 minutes away from you.

Both of you aren’t in relationships so it’s easier to hang out. Plus, you committed yourself to maintaining a work-life balance after you suffered burnout some months ago, and that’s meant switching off during the weekends and being a lot… calmer, you think. Probably less erratic and maybe more bearable.

All of those circumstances just happened to take place around the time Taehyung came home and commenced his role of being the trip planner. Before then, you and Jungkook were either in a relationship or neck-deep into your job or both.

You were definitely a different person back then and you suppose he was, too. Now, you get to spend time together and just enjoy each other’s presence, something you always have but something you get to experience differently this time.

And it’s a good feeling, something that you don’t express out loud. Not that you think he’ll judge you or anything but only because somehow, you think he’s thinking the same thing.

You do your final cheers then clean up before brushing your teeth and heading to your room, ready to finally rest.

Except when you get there, you find Jimin sprawled on the mattress on the floor this time with the phone on his face, no doubt having fallen asleep while playing his games. Mo-eum and Taehyung are fetus-curled on either side of your bed, softly snoring.

That leaves one bed for you and Jungkook, and the realization that this has never happened before hits you. Not that it’s uncomfortable; it’s just that you’ve always been closer to the other guys and he’s always been closer to Mo-eum. Still, you don’t mind but he seems like he does.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he mumbles.

“It’s soft but not as soft as this bed. We can just stay here. You need proper sleep and this is big enough for both of us,” you insist. “Is that okay with you? I mean, I’ve slept next to the guys before.”

“Yeah, and you’ve either elbowed or kicked each one of them. More than once,” he reminds you.

“Is that why you don’t want to sleep here?” You ask worriedly.

He hates it but Jungkook half-lies.

“Yup.”

You think about it for a second but still insist. He’s already slept on the couch in the other hotel and you don’t want him to do that again.

“Nah, you’re strong. You can handle me,” you wink.

“Fine,” he grumbles, mockingly laughing at himself for giving in so easily once again.

“Don’t worry, there’ll be a pillow between us,” you assure him.

“Yeah, whatever. By the way, they left the blinds open. You don’t like the light, right?”

“Hmm, I usually don’t and I know you don’t, too, but uh… Can we leave it up? I wanna fall asleep and wake up to that sight,” you say, gesturing towards the snow-covered branches of the trees right outside the window.

“Sure.”

Jungkook climbs in bed next to you with the pillow in the middle, even if he knows you’ll hog that, too, because apparently, you like hugging something when you sleep.

You’re on your side with your eyes glued to the window and he lays on his side as well, facing you.

“I’ve been so enchanted by this city and how the snow covers everything,” you whisper, no doubt being sentimental at this time. “I just want to ingrain the image of this place in my mind as much as I can. Jimin got me so fascinated with snow. I used to not care much about it.”

“I’ll get you a snowglobe in one of the shops tomorrow then,” he smiles. “That might help.”

“It will,” you groggily smile back. “You’re so sweet, Kook. I’m glad we–”

And just like that, you’ve fallen asleep.

It’s fitting how the night ends, he thinks. There’s a short distance separating both of you but so many years and memories in between. You’ve always been there just as the snow has always been around, yet it takes something, or someone - perhaps a moment - to make him look at things in a different light.

Has it always been like this? Have you always been like that? What was it these past months that made the difference?

He’s unsure but he doesn’t want to overthink. Just like you, he wants to ingrain this in his mind as much as he can. He’ll deal with whatever comes after when it comes.

The first sliver of light cuts through your eyelids and you curl yourself closer to the pillow to hide your face. It works only a little, and you mentally curse yourself for leaving the blinds up. No one else seems bothered because no one’s put them down yet. It would’ve been Jungkook but you suppose he’s too exhausted.

You turn to your side and find his tattooed arm over his eyes and you kind of feel bad. So you get up and walk towards the window, marvel at the trees for a few seconds, then pull down the blinds. You return to bed and go back to sleep, knowing you’ll see it again later on. And tomorrow, too, for the last time.

You wake up two hours later to Jungkook saying that the guys have made breakfast. You stretch your legs and ask him if he can put on the muscle spray again even if you’re feeling a little better. He does, and you smile when he briefly massages your calves before he pulls you up from the bed.

Everyone else has gone up so you head to the dining table and find a spread of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages, toast, and pastries. Hayoung and Gyu-rim apparently watched a cooking show this morning and immediately craved a Western breakfast, so Yoongi and Seokjin went to the supermarket to grab ingredients and cooked them.

It smells amazing, and you hum in delight at how good it is. It feels so foreign yet it tastes like comfort.

There’s no rush in spending your last full day. You drive to explore a quaint town then hang out at a cafe to play with cats and drink coffee. You go to a whiskey museum and laugh at Jungkook and Jimin doing some role play by the bar.

You try some samplers and end up getting Jungkook one of the bottles he chose not to get because he’s used up all his alcohol budget for this trip. You give it as a surprise while walking back to the car.

“___, I told you you didn’t need to get me anymore,” he groans.

“Yeah but.. You carried me, you've been massaging me… And you’re gonna drive me home tomorrow,” you say.

“So what, should I expect you to get me something every time I do something for you?”

“Uh… no.”

“Exactly, so there’s no need to.”

“Too bad, it’s already paid for,” you shrug. “Plus, you looked so sad when you had to give it up. You were pouting your lips and pep talking yourself into accepting that you weren’t gonna get it.”

“I’m also an adult who’ll get over it,” he points out.

“Well, just think of it as a birthday or Christmas gift or something.”

“You’ve never gotten me either of those,” he deadpans.

“Exactly! So here,” you chirp, placing the bottle in his hand. “Belated happy birthday and advanced Merry Christmas.”

He laughs at your persistence but accepts that this is how you are. Again, it’s the tenderness of your personality that he’s been experiencing these past few weeks that builds on the fondness, that makes him enjoy being around you.

“Fine. Thank you,” he finally smiles and accepts.

Not long after, you go to a street lined with local shops. That’s where Jungkook finds you a snowglobe of this town. He gets you another one of a tree with a deer next to it. He’s also never gotten you a gift so he says it’s for all the years that he missed out on.

Later in the night, after having dinner at a hotpot place and spending the rest of it reminiscing about the trip over tea and milk, you lay on your side next to Mo-eum, as you’ve returned to your original sleeping arrangements. You place both snowglobes on the night table next to you, as if in replacement of the view from your window.

“Careful, you might hit and break them,” Jungkook warns from not far away.

“I think my body can only recognize body parts when it’s hitting something,” you laugh. “But don’t worry, they’ll be safe.”

“They better. They’re your reminder of this place.”

“Well, years from now when I still feel my sore joints, I’ll be reminded of Sapporo,” you laugh.

Jungkook laughs, too, and thinks that while you’ll have those as a reminder, he has this other than the bottle of whiskey you got him - this view of you smiling at him as you fall asleep.

Even if you remain as friends, years from now he’ll think of this trip and how you made it enchanting for him with the moments, the silence, and all your unspoken words.

You leave Sapporo the next afternoon.

It’s quite a drive to the airport and you savor the scenery as you pass the snow-covered mountains and frozen lakes for the last time.

You sit next to Jungkook again on the flight home, with your head leaned on his shoulder while you both look at the photos in the shared photo album. He drops you off at your apartment after you all have dinner at a restaurant and the entire drive had you laughing and teasing each other, same as how you spent the entire trip.

He helps you unload your luggage and walks it up to the entrance to your apartment building.

The snow starts falling at this time and you ruffle Jungkook’s hair and call him out for not wearing his beanie.

“I’ll live,” he laughs.

You just smile in response, thankful that you spent the past week making new memories with this man you feel you don’t have enough of. It’s weird how a trip can do that - make you experience someone you’ve known for a decade as if for the first time.

But you suppose life is like that. We focus on certain things at certain points of our lives depending on who and where we are at that time. We rediscover people and feelings and friendships and maybe that’s what living means. Those that remain are the ones that matter.

“Enjoy the holidays, okay? And have a safe trip home tomorrow,” he says.

You’re riding with Hayoung to Gwangju in the morning and Jungkook’s driving to Busan with Jimin in the afternoon.

“And don’t hurt yourself. Your legs are still a bit sore,” he reminds you.

“I’ll be alright,” you say confidently.

He chuckles and heads back to his car. You wave him goodbye for the last time then head to your apartment.

Five minutes later, you text him.

[To: bunny kook] I stubbed my toe on the couch 🙁

He laughs out loud and decides to call you. You don’t need him to come back, you say, but you wail that you miss him already.

He knows what you mean but it doesn’t stop his heart from doing that thing again. He ends up talking to you on the phone throughout his drive and while you’re both unpacking and then packing again for your respective trips.

You hang up first and Jungkook already dreads what these next few weeks of being away from you would mean.

Settling into the feeling could mean accepting that proximity is the biggest factor and that being physically apart is what’ll make him get back to how things used to be. He could also be convinced it wasn’t much anyway.

It could mean settling into the idea that both of you have changed over the years and have truly committed to just being better friends for each other.

Or it could mean that there really is something more, and he’s gonna have to figure out how to live with that, whether or not you feel the same way.

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tawnfawn · 2 years ago

Text

intoxicated | könig

summary: you get along with everyone on your team, except for könig. you think he hates you, but his perceived distaste for you only makes you want him more. you're able to keep your composure until you're partnered up for a mission, where everything seems to go wrong...

tags: könig x fem!reader smut. cod. pure filthy, shameless smut. sex pollen. proofread. MDNI. 5k+ words

cw: dubcon (due to sex pollen but there's clear consent before and after). unprotected sex (reader IS on birth control, wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral m!receiving, fingering, accidental drug use (sex pollen), dom!könig and sub!reader, light humiliation kink, heavy praise, size kink if you squint, overstimulation, mutual pining, violence, killing.

MDNI. NSFW BELOW THE CUT

You crept around the corner of the warehouse with your rifle, watching König’s six as you progressed. The other KorTac members were stationed on site as well, giving quick updates through comms as you progressed. Details were scarce, except that in the warehouse, a Russian terrorist group was producing a bioweapon capable of mass destruction—and anyone inside was KOS.

Of course, the bioweapon in question was…dubious, to say the least. A strong aphrodisiac, the contractor had explained, much to the astonishment of your team. During the briefing, you’d managed to keep a straight face, but not all of your teammates were as courteous.

“So let me get this straight—you want us to risk our lives for…Viagra?” Horangi had questioned, exasperated. Your lips pursed at his crudeness, but it was exactly what you were thinking too.

The scientist’s face flushed. “N-no, this is much different,” he snapped. As one of the architects of the bioweapon, he was clearly offended. “It is much, much stronger. Exposure to just one dose will cause severe arousal: heart palpitations, excessive sweating, overheating. Imagine…” He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “Imagine a brain overload, yes? Rational thinking…disappears. Victims may lose all motor control. Too long without treatment can result in heart failure, aneurysms, seizures, stroke, and sometimes death.”

“So what is the treatment?” you interrupted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Sex,” the scientist answered, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. “It was designed to be, ah… difficult.”

Your jaw clenched, and your eyes darted to König. He was staring down the scientist, narrowed eyes betraying no emotion. While everyone else struggled to keep their bafflement hidden, his sniper hood obscured any hope of reading him. Just my fucking luck, you thought when you were partnered with him.

It wasn’t that you disliked König; it was just that you found it so much more difficult to talk to him. With the rest of your teammates, you were fine. A natural people reader, you were comfortable with the rest of them, relying on body language and the details they let slip to learn more about them. In fact, you considered yourself to be pretty close with them—unsurprising, given that in your line of work, your life rested in their hands and vice versa. But König was… different. You didn’t distrust him, per say, but outside of the battlefield, he was quiet. Reclusive. No matter how many times you’d tried to get him to open up, he barely interacted with you, despite talking to the others. You’d chalked it down to being the newest on the team at first, but now that you’d served over a year and a half together, you were frustrated. Shouldn’t that be well enough time to open up at least a little bit?

You knew your thinking was illogical. Your job was to hunt targets and invade bases, not deep dive into your coworker’s soul, but you couldn’t help the way it took over your mind. Your need to understand him had become a bit of an obsession. You constantly found yourself looking at him, trying to discern any emotion his eyes betrayed. You listened intently for any of his input in person or on comms, no matter how menial it was. You studied his body language, taken note of any habits or gestures. You’d even memorized the way he reloaded his guns.

It was…embarrassing, to say the least. But could you blame yourself? He was so tall and strong and imposing that even just standing next to him made you, a normally very confident and intimidating woman, feel small. Such was the reason that you pushed yourself extra harder whenever you were paired up with him, making sure he knew you were valuable, a force to be reckoned with. Your excellent performance had made you two quite the duo, often clearing out legions of enemies in mere minutes. And you had to admit, seeing him absolutely obliterate enemy lines made you feel some type of way…

But not like that, of course. You were just…curious. When he finally opened up to you (and not if, but when), your obsession would stop, and everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Today, however, there were a lot less enemies than you’d expected. Sure, there were quite a few soldiers stationed around the warehouse (which your team had incapacitated quickly), but inside, save for some scientists and the occasional guard, it was eerily empty and quiet.

“It’s fucking cold,” Horangi’s voice rang out from your radio. You sighed and brought the device to your lips.

“It’s fucking Russia,” you stated. “What did you think it’d be? Beachy?”

König’s quiet chuckle sounded from in front of you, and you couldn’t help the pride that swarmed in your heart. Heat burst in your cheeks, but you tried to brush it off.

“Fuck off,” Horangi replied. “East side clear.”

“West unknown,” you said. “Standby.” You tucked the radio back into your pocket, following your teammate.

You both peeked around the corner to the last room. It was filled to the brim with lab equipment—beakers, bunsen burners, flasks, microscopes—all sitting atop of large resin tables. Bright, fluorescent lights bounced off the sterile grey walls and ceiling, creating a dull glare that was almost depressing. Neat racks of tightly sealed vials and test tubes peeked through glass cabinets on the walls, parallel to the large sinks below. Across the room was a row of unfamiliar-looking equipment, and next to that, an enormous whiteboard boasting messily scrawled notes, diagrams, and equations. A bag of what looked like takeout sat on a nearby desk next to a crumpled napkin and a perspiring styrofoam cup. It was almost exactly what you’d imagined a stereotypical laboratory to look like, albeit a bit messier and more lived in. A singular man stood working at one of the tables, frantically scribbling on a notepad with his back facing toward you. König motioned for you to stay put as he crept forward. You complied.

Then the man dropped his pen.

“Xyй,” he cursed and turned around to pick it up. Of course, when he turned around, he saw König’s gigantic form pointing a gun at him, and he screamed. You fired your suppressed pistol, but not before the scientist hurled a glass vial at König. It shattered against his tactical vest as the dead scientist crumpled to the ground, releasing a burst of lavender-colored smoke that curled into the air and quickly dissipated.

König ripped off his tactical vest, coughing violently, but it was too late—the substance had already entered his lungs, likely reaching his bloodstream by now. He stared at you, blue eyes wide with—for the first time you’d ever seen—fear.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, and he staggered to the wall, crashing down to the floor.

“König?” You stared at him, stricken. His eyes were closed, and he was stock still—stiller than you’d ever seen him—and for a long, hard moment, you thought he might be dead.

Then his eyes snapped open. His pupils were dilated and blown, a sea of black barely tinged by blue irises. He stared at you, unmoving, before letting out a groan and bringing his hand over his face.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. You grabbed your radio. “M-man down!” you stammered into it. “König’s been exposed. West side clear. Requesting med evac in thirty minutes. Going dark.” You turned it off, not bothering to listen to any input. The rest of your team knew what this meant. As did you.

In the time you’d been on the radio, König had torn off all of his other gear, leaving himself in just his shirt, pants, and boots. He was panting, his chest heaving with each breath, ungloved hand still hiding his masked face as he cursed in German.

You crossed the room in seconds and kneeled at his side. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, König, just breathe—”

“No,” he breathed. His voice was deeper, raspier than normal, and the unbridled heat in it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were clenched into fists, body tensed as he fought the invisible infection. “Go. Now.”

“You know I can’t leave—”

His hand fell to his side, letting his eyes meeting yours for a split second. “Please,” he groaned, starting to tremble as you drew closer. “I—I can’t—”

His gaze strayed lower, and you followed it to the growing bulge in his pants. You gulped, unmoving, and he grabbed your arm. The force of it was enough to make you still.

“Go,” he insisted, his accent even thicker than usual. “I’m not—I cannot control myself.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here!” you argued, swatting his hand away. “You’re my teammate. You could die.”

“I will hurt you,” he retorted. All the muscles in his body were tensed, clearly on overdrive. Even his eyes were watering. “Please, maus. I am not gentle.”

Something inside about his statement made your thighs clench together, but you tried to ignore it. Tentatively, you brought your hand to his chin, pulling his face towards you. His skin was feverish, and your heart twisted in sympathy. “Let me help you,” you pleaded, and he inhaled sharply.

“It feels like I’m burning,” he hissed, and you frowned. His black compression shirt was nearly soaked with sweat, and you grabbed the fabric, pulling it up. He pawed at your arm weakly, but you shushed him.

“You’re overheating. Take it off,” you ordered, and finally, he let you pull it over his head, sagging back against the wall as you threw it to the side.

You’d seen him without a shirt before—it was hard not to with this kind of job, what with donning injuries all the time—but this was different. His head was thrown back as he panted, toned chest heaving with each breath, and you could see all of the muscles in his chiseled abdomen clenched, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It was… erotic. Just looking at him made you feel dirty. You felt the thrum of something other than worry in your abdomen, and you swallowed.

“Leave me,” König growled, but it sounded more desperate than commanding. You shook your head at him.

“Not letting you die, König.” You began to rip off your gear, tugging off your tactical vest and discarding your weapons.

König grabbed your wrist. “What are you…?”

“Wanna help you, okay?” you said softly, trying to catch his eyes as they darted over your face. “Are you gonna let me?”

He took in a deep breath, his other hand in a death grip on his thigh. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, but it was starting to lose its original harshness. He was fading, and fast.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. You placed your hand on his bare chest, feeling the way his heartbeat stuttered and stammered under your touch. He cursed in response, the hand on your wrist twitching, clearly fighting the urge to touch you. In a split-second decision, you swung your right leg over his lap and straddled him, careful not to grind against him, waiting for an answer first. He let out a choked noise and grabbed you by the hips, his tight grip making you gasp. “Yes or no?” you breathed.

“Ahhh, maus.” The low groan he let out was nearly animalistic. “Yes,” he begged, and that was all you needed to hear.

You started grinding on his lap gently, trying to restrain yourself from going further. You wanted to be mindful of his sensitivity, but König simply huffed in annoyance and used his tight grip on your hips to tug you all the way down into his lap—allowing you to feel everything. The imprint of his hard, throbbing cock made you dizzy; you couldn’t resist pressing against it, moaning softly at the delicious friction it granted your clit.

“Scheiße,” König murmured, his thighs twitching underneath you. You felt bad, knowing he was probably dying for some real contact, so you decided to give it to him.

Your heart raced as you reached for his waistband, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants to his knees. His cock was straining against his briefs, a wet patch forming from precum, and you quickly removed those as well, watching his hardened cock spring up and then fall slightly, its weight making it unable to reach his stomach. Your mouth went dry. Fuck, he was huge. You supposed it made sense: as an exceptionally large man, it was logical to have a proportionally large cock, but the sight of it still shocked you.

“Maus,” he whispered, breaking you out of your trance. He stared at you apprehensively, and you wrapped your much smaller hands around his cock, hearing him suck in a breath. You took a moment to marvel at the sheer size of him—your normally average-sized fingers looked miniature in contrast, unable to even fully wrap around his length. You felt your own arousal seep into your underwear, and you leaned down to kiss his tip.

The moan he let out turned you on even more than before, and you wasted no time teasing him, spitting into your hand and pumping his cock a few times before bringing the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the slit before pushing him further down your throat. His cock was so large that you had to fight not to scrape your teeth against it, flattening your tongue under the base of it.

His hand fisted into your hair, pulling slightly every time you moved your lips up and down his shaft, twisting your hand in tandem. Your other hand gripped onto one of his thick thighs, feeling his leg twitch as he struggled not to buck his hips up into your mouth. Each strained noise and curse you coaxed from him only encouraged you more, your own whimpers muffled against his cock as you did your best to fit him down your throat.

After only a few minutes, you felt him twitching in your hand and sped up your pace, determined to pleasure him as much as possible. Curses fell from his lips as he finished, hot spurts of his release shooting down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, continuing to pump your hand up and down his still rock-hard shaft.

König, however, pulled you off quickly, eyes wide and dark with an almost fearful desperation as he stared at you. “The poison. It’s still…”

You looked back down to see his cock still twitching in your hand. “It’s okay,” you said, starting to lean back down, “I’ll just—”

“No!” He pulled you back up by the neck. You blinked at him in shock, and he stared back, pupils blown wide like black moons. There was a fiery hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, one you’d never seen before. The sheer want in his gaze sent a cold shiver down your spine. No one had ever looked at you like this before—like you were prey.

“König?” you asked nervously.

Instead of answering, he began to unbuckle your belt, and you gasped as his hand reached under your waistband to cup your clothed core, index finger tracing lightly over your clit. You fought back a mewl, chest seizing as you shut your eyes from the pleasure.

“So wet,” he marveled. He pushed your underwear to the side, smearing your arousal over your soaked folds as you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. “Just from sucking my cock?”

His switch in demeanor startled you, and you moaned as one of his large fingers pressed into your weeping hole, curling inside you with precision. His hands were so much bigger than yours; the stretch was making your knees weak. He quickly found your G-spot, taking care to press against it as you arched into him. “Oh, oh, fuck, König,” you whimpered, coaxing a dark chuckle from him that made you clench around him.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, but he pried them apart with ease, forcing you to straddle him and rendering you helpless to his ministrations as he slowly dragged another finger in and out of you. With each achingly slow push into your dripping hole, he made sure to curl them just right, long fingers able to reach that sensitive spongy spot inside you effortlessly. His palm laid flat against your clit as he stroked your walls, letting you sloppily grind into his hand as he murmured praise into your ear.

“Does that feel good, liebling?” he asked, drinking in each of your breathy, pleasured noises with satisfaction. “You like making a mess on my fingers, mm?”

You simply whimpered, too embarrassed of your flustered state to form a real response. He seemed to pick up the hint, giving you a cocky smirk through his mask. “Ohh, it’s okay, maus,” he cooed, but his soft words were laced with a smug condescension that made your cheeks burn. “You look so pretty like this, all dumb on my fingers. I wish I could’ve seen it earlier.”

You whined again, desperately grinding down on his palm for more friction. His slow pace was torturous, giving you just enough to feel pleasure but not enough to build it. It was mean. It was twisted. It was agonizing. You were eating it up.

“Please,” you tried, teary eyes boring into his. “Can you—can you please—”

“Can I what, maus?” He cocked his head, darkened eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tell me, or I can’t help you.”

You know what I want, you wanted to shout at him, but you knew that wouldn’t work. “Please,” you begged, “I need more."

“What more do you need, maus?” he asked again. “You have a mouth. Use it.”

“Need you to—” You whimpered pitifully, dropping your head into his shoulder. “Please, need you to go—go harder.” You nearly sobbed out the words, desperation winning out over your embarrassment. You were mortified at your teary, shaking voice, but he seemed to revel in it, squeezing your thigh in appreciation.

“Oh, is that what you wanted?” he teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You could have just said so.”

He set a steady pace with his fingers, bullying them inside of you hard enough to make you squirm against him. With each thrust, he curled them just right, sending your eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in heavy pants as you mewled into his shoulder. You were grateful to be spared of his intense gaze; you didn’t think you could look at him in the state you were in. It was mortifying just hearing the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your gushing cunt.

“Oh, maus,” he cooed into your ear as you trembled, keening at the stretch of his fingers. “You’re just so beautiful like this, you know. So fucking desperate and pathetic. I wish I could see you like this all the time.”

Would I like him to finger me like this all the time? Hell yes, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him, only able to whine and nod vigorously into his shoulder, lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you. You could feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into his palm and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gave your throbbing clit. You were so wet that you were starting to wonder if you’d been infected, too; each time he hit your g-spot just right, you felt more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. It was driving you insane.

“K-König!” You managed a cry of his name right before you came, clenching around his fingers as you bucked your hips into his hand. Breathy whines fell from your lips, your thighs shaking and seizing as you squirmed in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. The feeling was so intense it was almost painful; you hadn’t had an orgasm in so long, and the effect was palpable. His arms held you tight, keeping you grounded while you shuddered in his grasp, his big fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.

When you finally came down from your high, you couldn’t look at him, mortified at your messy state. His fingers were still knuckle-deep in your arousal, and you could feel more of your slick dripping down your thighs, wet and uncomfortable. You kept your head buried in his chest shyly while your happy cunt stayed spasming in his hand.

“Okay, schatz?” he asked softly, using his free hand to tilt your head towards him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You stared up at him, mouth open. There were practically hearts in your eyes; your adoration was clear to him, and he laughed at your expression, cradling your cheek with his hand. “Aww, schatz.” He clicked his tongue, a smile audible in his voice. “You’re so sweet.”

Your cheeks burned red at the words, and you blinked rapidly, unable to look away. His piercing blue eyes stayed trained on yours, but there was a warmth in them that soothed you. He petted your cheek, lifting his hood to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind felt fuzzy. All you could think about was your need to be filled by him, and you pawed at his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around the base of it. A hiss of pleasure escaped him, and you kept your eyes on his, wide and pleading. “Please fuck me,” you whispered, still trembling in his grasp.

König’s eyes darkened, and he tugged off the rest of your bottoms quickly. His strong hands lifted you to hover you over his cock, and you shuddered with anticipation, head spinning. He rubbed the tip through your dripping folds, coaxing out a gasp as it brushed over your swollen clit. You tried to push him inside, squirming, but his tight grip on the bottoms of your thighs kept you in place, and you whined his name, hoping he would take pity on you.

“Bitte, König,” you begged, and he practically growled at the words, mercifully allowing you to sink onto the tip of his cock and drawing out a desperate mewl. Even with how wet you were, he was so, so big that he was practically tearing you in half.

“K-König—”

“Hush, liebling,” he soothed, and you moaned as your core clenched around him, beacons of pleasure ripping through you from just the feel of him. He waited for you to relax and then pushed in farther as you gasped at his length.

“Mmph! König—” You keened as he continued to push himself into you, waiting each time to make sure you were okay. You could feel his hard cock twitch with each thrust, and you knew it must be difficult for him not to go straight into fucking you, that he was holding himself back to be more gentle. The thought only made you moan louder.

Tears slipped down your cheeks when he finally bottomed out, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, maus,” he groaned, no doubt feeling the way you clenched around him. “You’re just—so tight—”

You wanted to tell him to it was okay, but from your already fucked out mind, all that came out was a dumb whimper of his name. In response, he pulled up his sniper hood to kiss your forehead, to which you whined and chased his lips with your mouth. This made him chuckle, and he guided your lips to his, coaxing out a soft moan as his tongue met yours. He tasted wonderful, and you mewled into his mouth, feeling even more worked up from the way he kissed you: hot and desperate and sweet, like the world was ending and you were the last ones in it.

“Mein maus,” he growled, suddenly thrusting up into you and making your eyes roll back. His hips snapped against yours, setting a pace that sent your thoughts reeling. “Taking me so well, doing so good for me, hm? Du bist mein schatz, ja?”

“Yes, fuck—yes,” you babbled, barely able to understand what he was saying. His unusually rough tone was fogging up your dumbed-out mind, the contrast between his sweet words and punishing pace reducing you to nothing but a crying, creaming mess. You’d never been this wet for someone before. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“Good girl,” he moaned, pushing you up and down his cock with dizzying strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he thrust up into you, high-pitched and pitiful noises falling from your lips at a shameful volume. He was using you like a toy, you thought, and the notion of it made your pleasured cries even louder.

“Mmm, yeah? Mmm?” He mimicked your breathy moans, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Normally, you’d be mortified, likely retorting with some witty insult, but now? Now with the way he was fucking you, all you could do was whine in pitiful response.

“So needy for me,” he groaned, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. The sheer force of him made your eyes roll back, and you felt that tight coil in your belly close to snapping.

“Fuck, König—” You panted heavily, your legs starting to give out. “K-König, oh my God, I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he cooed, pulling you closer to his chest so your clit could find purchase on his toned abs. “Doing so good for me, schatz. Such a good girl, getting off on me like this. Like the way I feel, mm?”

His sweet praise became your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You cried his name, mouth falling open in shock as your legs kicked out, your cunt weeping and convulsing around him as you keened. You gasped for air as your orgasm rocked through you, the pleasure suddenly becoming all too much as he continued to drill himself into your gushing cunt.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overstimulation, but he didn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. “Wonder how many orgasms I can get from you,” he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice as he panted. “How many more, mein schatz?”

“I—I don’t know!” you cried as his pelvis dragged against your clit, sending shocks of electricity through you. “I don’t—I can’t—”

He groaned as you trembled in his hold, pretty blue eyes boring into yours. “You can do it for me,” he replied. “I know you can. Isn’t that right, liebling?”

“Ahh—König—” The juxtaposition of his soft kisses and brutal pace was making your head spin. Too overwhelmed to answer, you just clutched onto his shoulders tighter, crying out every time his skin brushed against your puffy, overstimulated clit. It was painful. It was overwhelming. It felt so fucking good.

“Hush, mein schatz,” he coaxed, holding you closer as you clenched around his cock, babbling incoherently as he fucked up into you. “You’re doing so good, I promise.”

The answer was two. Two more earth-shattering orgasms before he finally went soft, coming inside of you twice before either (1), his dick just gave out, or (2), the poison wore off. Either way, by the end of it, you were exhausted and fucked out, still recovering from your cock-drunk state as he cleaned you up.

“I’m sorry, maus,” he apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful as he gently wiped your soaked thighs with a clean cloth he had found in the room. “I’m so sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what came over me.”

“Drugs,” you supplied, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion. “Really bad drugs.”

“Yes, drugs,” he agreed, carefully mopping your folds as you sighed. “But still—I am sorry. I was…overzealous. I hope I did not hurt you too bad.”

“I’ll be a little sore,” you admitted, glancing at the bruises his fingers had left on your waist and hips. “But I’ll be fine, trust me.”

He sighed, somehow managing to look resigned even with the sniper hood. “I should not have been so hard on you. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly?” you murmured, blinking at him sleepily. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

He froze for a moment. “What?”

“Not that I’ve had a lot of sex,” you said quickly. “But still, that was the best I’ve ever had. Probably will ever have, now that I think about it. You must be very experienced. Oh God, I should not have said that out loud. I am—I am so sorry.”

Even with his sniper hood on, you could tell he was blushing. ��Oh, um—it’s okay, maus.” You could hear the shyness in his voice. “I do not consider that to be my best performance, but I will take it as a compliment.”

“Your best performance?” You stared at him, mind running through everything that had just happened. You’d had sex before, but that—that was a whole ass experience. You’d never even dreamed about anything that good. “Christ, what’s your best performance, then?”

“Well,” he replied, sliding your soaked underwear back up your legs for you, “I would have taken you out on a date first, at the very least. That would be the proper way to court you.”

“Court me?” you repeated, sitting up straight. “I didn’t know you were so well-mannered, König.”

He looked away from you, shifting awkwardly from his spot on the floor. “I try to be courteous before sticking my dick in people.”

It took you a moment to realize he was joking, and you laughed—actually really laughed out loud. His awkward humor was charming you, and you felt warmth swell in your chest as you listened to him speak. You grinned at him, his eyes crinkling in a smile back.

König still smiled, but a hint of sadness pervaded his gaze. “Ah, schatz.” He hesitated. “I would have liked to make love to you,” he sighed, “but I did not imagine these would be the circumstances. I was hoping to take you on a date first, get to know you better.”

“You wanted to what?” Your eyes widened, and you blinked in confusion. “But…I thought you didn’t like me.”

König practically jolted in place. It was like you’d electrocuted him. He stared at you. “Why would you ever think that?”

“You talk to everyone but me,” you said softly. “I thought you didn’t trust me. Thought you hated me.”

“Hated—?” He shook his head vigorously. “No, I wanted to speak to you. You just…made me nervous. The others do not.”

“I made you nervous?” The words fell from your lips with shock, your eyebrows furrowing. “How would I—how did I ever make you nervous? You’re like three times the size of me!”

König shrugged, sheepish. “You’re very pretty. And you seemed…kind, and well-connected with the others. I have trouble finding that connection. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you and fuck it up.”

“So you said nothing at all.” You were quiet for a moment, turning over the information in your mind. “Wow. I was way off.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but it is okay. I’m sorry for making you think I disliked you, schatz.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. You ran a hand through your hair, beyond shocked at everything happening. You couldn’t believe you’d fucked your colleague, the one you’d had a crush on for who knows long, and also discovered that he didn’t, in fact, hate you. “At least I know now.”

“Next time, I will be better,” König vowed, helping you tug on your pants. “More gentle. I will do things right, I promise.”

“Next time?” You hesitated, biting your lip. “There will be a next time?”

“Of course there will,” he answered, adjusting his tactical gloves. “Did you not hear what I said earlier?”

“Um…which one?” He’d said a lot of things earlier.

He helped you to your feet, towering over you as he cupped his large hand under your jaw. Your heart stopped in your chest as you looked up into his eyes, his large frame dwarfing yours beyond comparison. “Du bist mein schatz, ja?” he repeated, gloved thumb tracing over your bottom lip. His very soul seemed to ooze confidence. “That’s what I said, no?’

With the way he was making you feel right now, you didn’t think it was even possible to say the word no. “Y-yes,” you stammered, adoration clear in your eyes as you gazed up at him.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “So there will be a next time. Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

“N-no, no, no, I definitely want!” you said quickly. You stumbled over your words in your eagerness, and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I would like that a lot.”

“Good,” he said, patting the top of your head. Normally, you’d be furious at such an action, but considering his height, it seemed more practical than condescending. “Now come, schatz,” he said, adjusting his vest. “Time to deny everything to the rest of the team.”

Oh, fuck. You sighed. “Yeah…I forgot about that.”

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