hell is empty - JJK, KTH
↳ PART 09 of hell is empty
life has a tendency to throw things your way when you least expect it, when you’re content, and the ominous presence knows exactly how to steer your existence back into the darkness.
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pairing — drvg lord!jungkook x reader, hotel owner!taehyung x reader
genre/rating — R | angst, fluff, smut, love triangle au
word count — 11.1K
play — softcore by the neighbourhood
warnings/tags — single parent!reader, dad!JK, ex-boyfriend!JK, CEO!taehyung, pharmacy tech!reader, strong language, mentions of alcohol, one attempted kiss, lots of tears, oc & junho’s first ‘fight,’ subtle mention of gvns + vi0lence, jk is still MIA, oc + tae finally opening up 🥹, mentions of an off-screen talk about contraception, mentions of death, explicit smut — dom!tae, dirty talk, praise kink, biting/scratching, hickies, oc being bratty 😳, rough sex, hair pulling, pussy slapping, edging, spanking, choking, mouth stuffing, katoptronophilia (found the name for oc’s mirror kink? heh), foot play, toe sucking, brief foot job, [if you find foot play weird ~ the paragraphs are bolded if you want to skip it], impreg kink 🫣, oral (f), fingering, tae’s stubble sjklskdf, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, creampie, multiple orgasms
note: okay, i decided to split this part into two once again since again, it’s a lot to take in and i don’t want to bombard you guys 😀 since i know it’s painful at times 😔 so this is part 09.1 !!
The beer grows warm in your hands, squeezed between your palms as you eye the man seated on your couch.
“Why are you standing way over there?” Seojoon chuckles, ankle propped on his knee as he snuggles into your couch, waving you over. “What’s new? It’s been a while since we talked.”
Sluggishly, you shuffle over to him and sit at the edge of the couch cushion, taking the tiniest sip from your beer before turning to him, forcing a smile onto your lips.
“Yeah…it’s been a while.”
You meet his gaze, hazy eyes locked with yours as you scan his face. This is the same Seojoon you spent late nights with, staying up to just talk about life and anything else that would pop up in conversation. The same Seojoon you trusted to take care of your son whenever you were at work or had other important matters to deal with. The same Seojoon who was there with one shout from you to deal with the bat that had gotten into your room or a clogged pipe. The same Seojoon.
But why does it feel…different now? Why do you feel so uncomfortable? His presence – so unnerving. And you feel guilty for it. To avoid him when he’s done nothing wrong except be a little too touchy with you recently.
That’s how some men are, you muse.
You show them some teeth and they think you’re down for whatever.
Perhaps you didn’t notice it before, you just don’t know why he’s giving you the creeps lately. Even before he started getting handsy with you.
“Ever since that fucker came to town you forgot all about me,” he sniggers, taking a swig from his can to then throw his arm over the backrest of the couch, fingers an inch away from your neck. There’s nothing you can say to that, because you have…Since Jungkook is around to take care of Junho and you learned to deal with clogged pipes and bats yourself. It just happened to be around the same time that Jungkook returned.
You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, his words tapering into a croaky chuckle.
“Seems like you’re done using me.”
“No, that’s not it.”
He drags his tongue between his teeth, shaking his head twice, “nah I’m sure that’s what it is.”
Out of reflex, your hand flies to his knee to stress your point. Snapping away when his gaze falls to the point of contact. You press your hand to your own knee know, cursing yourself.
“We weren’t using you Seojoon, Junho does ask for you sometimes. It’s just that he’s been so…occupied with his dad these days. He’s hardly home if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t blame the kid,” he mutters, speaking into his can, “asshole left and came back and bribed him with money and toys. Of course he would want to spend time with him.”
You raise an eyebrow, suspicions spiking.
“What do you mean?”
He turns to you, noticing your wary expression because a short laugh bursts out of him, one that has you scooting an inch away from him.
“I saw the Urus parked in the garage,” he nods, jutting his thumb behind him which is far from the direction of the garage, “figured his father got it for him since it’s Smiley’s favorite car.”
You’re silent, scanning his sheepish demeanor as his eyes shift around the room before they fall on you, a smirk tugging at his lips as he runs a hand through his curly hair.
“What about you?”
Your mouth twitches, “what about me?”
“Did he buy you anything?”
“Apart from the fact that I have to drive Junho around in the Urus, no, he didn’t.”
He nods, jutting out his bottom lip before he jumps a little closer, fist pressed to his temple as he slurps up the dregs of his beer, “and money?”
You regret ever confiding in him.
“What money?”
“You know,” he laughs, knee brushing yours lightly as he sets down the beer can to reach for another, “the money he’s been sending you every month?”
You suddenly feel the need to lie, “still the same.”
“Damn, so he gives Junho all that money and still managed to buy him a Urus and all these fucking expensive toys?”
If your suspicions had a radar – it would be beeping like crazy.
Junho is a neat boy lately. He packs all his toys and cars away after he’s done with them, and he knows not to leave them out in the lounge or kitchen or laying in the hallway. So, how does Seojoon know about the toys?
“And you still don’t spend the money?”
You rub your forehead, defences shooting up, “no.”
“So you’re still saving it like you said?”
“Why are you so interested in the money?”
His eyebrows shoot up, a flash of an emotion you’ve never seen before passes his features which has you wondering if you’ve made a mistake. But the nervous chuckle he lets out after has your hackles rising.
“I’m just asking, you’re not curious? Where does he get all that money from?”
And then it hits you.
So hard you feel yourself standing up but you’re not. You’re still sat next to him, blinking stupidly.
He’s after the money he knows you’re saving for Junho when he’s old enough to make decisions for himself and figure out what to do with the money his father left for him.
“Seojoon you—”
“So, you don’t miss me?”
Your feel your facial muscles tense, “what?”
“You know—” he laughs, his arm suddenly around your shoulder “—how things used to be with us?”
You shrug off his hand, making a move to stand from the couch but he’s got your wrist in his grip, light but terrifying.
“You’re gonna choose to run away instead of answer my question?” He speaks sharply, the smile he has on a juxtaposition of the domineering tone in his voice. “I know you miss me.”
When you speak, that’s when you feel your heartbeat pulsing in your throat, twisting your arm to break free from his hold. You laugh, masking your fear, showing him that you’re completely unaffected by him and his firm hold your hand.
“What do you mean?” You chuckle lightly, using your other hand to peel his fingers off and rise from the couch, pacing over to the door.
You’re turned to the door when you feel his breath hit the back of your neck, spinning around abruptly to find him so close, your chests nearly touching before you take a few steps away. Heart sinking to the pit of your stomach when the ice-cold door presses into your back. His eyes are glazed over, head cocking to the side menacingly.
“You know what I mean. Do you miss spending time with me?”
“Seojoon,” you chuckle, pushing him away lightly but he’s glued to the spot, Chest rock hard against your touch, “what are you talking about?”
“Just answer the question,” he states plainly, voice dropping to a whisper.
You look up at him, chin quivering slightly, “what are y—”
“I bet that bastard bought you off too am I right? You fell for his tricks and now you won’t admit your feelings for me.”
“What the fu—Seojoon what feelings? You’re my friend.”
His eye twitches, snarling through his words as he presses a hand to the door, towering over you.
“Stop lying,” he growls, the sounds paired with that blank look in his eyes sends a chill down your spine.
“I’m not lying, we’re friends, right?”
“No,” he exclaims, banging a fist into the door, “we’re not friends! Friends don’t do the things we did!”
You click your tongue, still believing that he’s playing some stupid prank on you.
“Seojoon, stop it now.”
“Stop what? Loving you?!”
You can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you, you’re aware that he’s being serious, but that seems like your only response in this situation. But the smile gets wiped off your face when he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close, his chest now flush against yours.
“Seojoon—” you beat your fists against his chest, that tiny voice inside your head telling you to remain calm getting smaller and smaller “—let me go.”
“NO! All those nights I spent watching you fall asleep, you would cuddle closer to me! All that was gone when that asshole came back! I saw you with him and that other snob. They can’t love you like I can.”
“What the fuck Seojoon?!”
He continues to spew a whole load of bullshit, while you’re beating at his chest and kicking his shin, but he refuses to let go.
“Listen to me, please! I saw you at the Junho’s party! You weren’t happy! You’re never happy around them,” he rambles, head dipping down while you’re shoving at his face, “I can keep you happy.”
Your eyes widen in horror when he grabs the back of your head and lowers his with his lips puckered. Pinning your hands to the door. Turning your head to the side, you spot your car keys in the bowl kept to the right of the door and reach for it, rearing your hand back and driving it into his side which has him stumbling away, clutching his side in pain.
You grab his collar and yank open the door, tossing him out in one swift movement, “you piece of shit!” He reaches out for you, but you jerk your knee upward, hitting his chin harshly. A loud crack resounding in the hall.
”Leave me the fuck alone or I’m calling the police!”
Without a single look at his face, you slam the door and fling the car keys across the room, gaze shifting around the small space of your apartment as your heart beats a rapid rhythm. You lock the door and push the heavy armchair across the front of the hall, setting it against the door. Rushing down the hallway, you stand outside Junho’s room, lingering in the doorway as you peek inside. Finding it empty.
Of course, you know he’s not here. He’s with Yoongi and Yuri. Why are you looking for him when you know he’s not here?
You jog to the lounge again, pausing when you see the beer cans. Like an arrow through your chest, what happened a few moments ago comes to the forefront of your mind. A stream of tears pouring down your cheeks as you pick them up one by one and throw them into the trash can.
With a pained groan, you flop down onto your bed after locking the door, chest aching as you press your fist to your forehead, wondering how you could let that happen. His shut eyes, crusty lips, filthy hands on your skin sits like a stain in your memory, playing like a broken record in your head and no matter how hard you rub your eyes – it just wouldn’t go away.
Worst of all, you trusted that man. And he turned out to be this psycho who watches your every move and knows exactly what’s happening in your life without your knowledge. Innocently, you would spend your free time with him watching movies and all along he had different intentions. You can’t help but feel like you fed his desire, you’re to blame for trusting a complete stranger and spilling everything.
A sob wracks your chest, a vision of what could’ve happened distorting your head.
Hugging your knees to your chest, you think of Junho, and what would’ve happened if he were here. Thank God he wasn’t here.
If Seojoon didn’t show up you would’ve been showered and in bed, now you can’t move, sitting in one spot as your apartment grows cold and dull.
You’re searching for your phone, spotting it on the side table before bringing it up to your face with shaky hands, fingers scrolling up and down through your contact list. Fear still fresh and coursing through your veins. It’s almost midnight. Everyone would be asleep.
The silence in your home is deafening, and you feel utterly and nauseatingly alone.
Heart refusing to slow down, rocking back and forth, you wait for him to answer, staring at the orange beam of light filtering in through a crack in your curtains, hyperaware that Seojoon is just out the door. You could call security on him at any moment, but you can’t bring yourself to. And you can take care of yourself. All you need to do is hear—
“He-llo?”
You chew on your nails, sitting up straight as you clear your throat, “hello…”
His voice is thick with sleep, low and raspy, and you can imagine the sleepy pout he’s doing as he speaks.
“It’s past 12, what’s wrong?”
You inhale a shuddering breath, vision getting blurred by tears all over again. You take a moment to think over it again, it doesn’t seem all that bad – you got out of it before it could escalate. So why do you feel so fucking broken?
“I-I know—” your voice cracks, refusing to let you speak before you take a few deep inhales again, focusing on the chipped corner of your coffee table.
“___? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing I…”
“I’m coming over right now. It’s only a two-hour flight.”
“No,” you protest, leaning to the side to rest your head on your arm, “no don’t come. I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound okay, love.”
“I just…”
“Nightmares again?”
Smiling through your tears, you press your lips together, nodding despite him not being able to see you.
“Is Smiley staying over at Yoongi’s again?”
You nod again, pressing a hand to your forehead, “yeah.”
Shuffling from the other end of the line filters through the speaker, his voice much clearer now, yet still laced with sleep.
“I can come over, it’s not a problem.”
“No, I’m okay.”
He exhales a deep sigh, whispering, “are you in bed?”
“Yeah,” you quake, resting on the couch now, facing the doorway.
“This…This might be stupid, but I can sing for you?”
You smile to yourself, hand resting on your belly as you stare at the ceiling.
“Really?”
“I’m not that good or anything but I can for you, if that would help your nightmares.”
The last time someone sang you to sleep was when you were five years old, and your mother would lay by your side humming a soporific tune. You sing the same for Junho, and it works wonders whenever he deals with his own nightmares.
“Okay.”
You can hear the smile in his voice, “don’t laugh at me.”
Giggling, you rest the phone on the side, next to your ear, waiting for him to begin.
“I won’t”
“It’s sort of a Christmas song…”
“That’s perfect.”
He clears his throat again, exaggerating the sound a bit before he begins. Taking your breath away with his honey voice.
“Hey snow
It’s coming today
What should I prepare?
I’m ready to greet you, okay
Grey is falling on the canvas
You can just cover it white—
Are you awake?”
“Your voice is…” You chuckle giddily, heart slowing to a steady beat, “wow. You really are perfect.”
“Thank you but you shouldn’t be talking, you should be sleeping.”
You roll your eyes, “you asked if I’m awake!”
“I was just checking!”
“Hmm,” you snort, bringing your pillow up to your chest to cuddle, “continue.”
“I’ll give you the world
In this cold season
You are my special event
Your warmth will melt
My blue and grey away.”
“Such a sweet song.”
“Not sweet enough if you’re still up.”
You yawn, eyes slipping shut as you envision him next you, curled up behind you on your bed while you’re drifting off to sleep, fast asleep knowing Junho is safe and sound and probably on his third dream for the night.
“When the world is full of white flowers
May out times be more special
When time is standing still
May these flowers fall on your sad smile.”
Sleep washes over you with his gentle words weaving into your mind, turning over to your left side as you peek at the door for a second then close your eyes again, so drowsy with his soothing melody.
“Good night love.”
You’re mumbling, phone slipping from your hand as you hear yourself say:
“Good night, Tae.”
“WHAT THE FUCK? WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL THE POLICE?”
You hold up your hands placatingly, tugging Yuri’s arm so she’ll return to her seat and calm down a tad. Peeking over her shoulder, you watch Yoongi from the lounge, seeing him stand behind Junho as they continue mix something in a large bowl.
“Weren’t you scared? And you stayed there all day? Fuck no. You’re moving in with me and Yoongi till you find a new apartment. I can’t fucking believe him! What the fuck?! AND HE KNEW ABOUT THE PARTY AND THE CAR AND THE MONEY.”
“Well, technically,” you sigh, intertwining your fingers with hers, “I told him about the money a while ago. And no no—”
She throws you an exhausted look, a mix of disapproval and disgust written across her face.
“You wanted me to get with him!”
“That was before I knew he was psycho!”
“Me too!”
She scratches her head, waving your joined hands around.
“But to tell him about the money…”
“I know and I honestly thought he was after that.”
She scoffs, “anyone with a fully functioning mind knew what he was after, I’m just…shocked, you know? He seemed so nice every time I saw him, and he was so good with Smiley.”
You exhale a burdened sigh, staring at nothing in particular, “looks can be deceiving.”
“Still waters run deep.”
Silence falls over you, the sound of Junho and Yoongi’s giggles echoing in their capacious home. Seojoon’s blank look replays in your mind, a chill runs down your spine when you think of how he cornered you. Refused to let you go. Yuri narrows her eyes at you, cogs turning behind her brown eyes.
“So when are you moving in?”
“What?” You laugh, swatting her arm, “we’re not.”
“Well, I’m gonna tell Yoongi whether you like it or not and you know what he’s gonna do.”
“Tell Jungkook and I can’t have that!”
Her eyebrow jumps, “why not?”
“Because…”
“Because…he’ll…break Seojoon’s legs and hand it to you?”
You gasp, “we—”
“Taehyung would do the same by the way. I’m one hundred percent sure. Should I refresh your memory and remind you? That night in the club?”
Your eyes widen, “oh God no. He’ll beat Seojoon to a pulp. Did you see their size difference?”
She juts out her lip, leaning back on the couch, “he’ll deserve it.”
“I just don’t want to cause any more issues, as it is Junho has been asking a LOT of questions lately.”
“Oh,” she chuckles, crossed legs brushing yours, “tell me about it.” She twists in the couch, ensuring that Yoongi is far away before dipping closer to you, hand cupped around the side of her mouth. “The other night he asked Yoongi why you and Jungkook can’t be together like us.”
Even if you laugh, your heart chips a bit to hear that.
“He also asked when I’m gonna have my own child,” she rolls her eyes, smile fading ever so slightly.
“Ugh, Junho. Hey—” you wiggle her knee around, voice lowering to a whisper “—how’s that going? Yoongi said I should talk to you…something like that.”
She dismisses you with a wave of her hand, fixing her t-shirt as she rises from the couch, but you yank her back down.
“Tell me!”
“No,” she grins, “it’s nothing. You know Yoongi overthinks everything.”
“Yeah, but everything is good, right?”
Her smile turns solemn, “I have an appointment with the gynae next weekend.”
“Alright, well you let me know how it goes.”
“WE’RE READY!”
Junho skips to the lounge holding a big silver dish while Yoongi follows carrying smaller bowls, setting it on the table then gesturing for you to join them. You peek into the bigger dish, running your fingers through Junho’s hair.
“You guys made hwachae!”
“Perfect for this weather,” Yoongi winks at Junho, busy scooping out some of the watermelon punch to then hand to Yuri who takes the seat next to him.
“It’s been so rainy these past few days,” you comment, sitting down next to Junho as you fill up his bowl. “Nice to have the sun out.”
Yuri hums, mouth stuffed, “I love the rain. This is so good! Thanks baby and baby—” She pinches Junho’s cheek who pouts, fist held out.
“I’m not a baby anymore!”
Yuri’s mouth hangs open, “yeah well you’re still a baby to me, okay?”
Pulling Junho’s chair closer to you, you nuzzle into his neck, “we know you’re not a baby but you’re still our baby, hm?”
His big eyes soften, dimple denting his cheek as he smiles.
The only sounds that can be heard is soft slurping and munching, enjoying the sweet juices while you’re itching to ask that one question. One that’s been nagging you ever since you arrived at Yoongi’s house.
“Ah—” Juice spills down Junho’s chin, and he panics, gesturing to the mess.
Yoongi hands Yuri a tissue, and she gets to cleaning up Junho’s neck and chin, patting his chest for good measure.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome baby.”
“Have you heard from Jungkook?”
Their heads snap in your direction, including Junho, who then looks at Yoongi, waiting for an answer.
Yoongi seems a bit stunned by the question, before his face relaxes to its usual expression, setting down his spoon.
“I spoke to him this morning.”
“And?”
His eyebrows furrow, “he’s…okay. Why do you ask?”
Your spoon clinks against the sides of your now empty bowl, fist tucked under your cheek.
“I’ve been trying to call him. But he wasn’t picking up. Voicemail.”
You’re avoiding Yuri’s inquisitive stare, knowing that she’s going to nail you for being so curious about Jungkook.
“I’ll let him know you tried calling.”
“No,” you blurt, fixated on the small chunk of ice slowly melting away in your bowl, “it’s okay. I was just wondering.”
Yoongi hums, tongue poking at his cheek.
“Smiley,” he calls, jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen, “let’s clean up.”
They clear the table, while you’re watching in awe as Junho takes each of your bowls and stacks them into each other. He’s not like this at home.
“We’re making dinner tonight,” Yoongi announces, holding Junho’s hand in his as they pad over to the lounge, “gonna chill in the meantime.”
“Hey, Yoongs,” Yuri shouts, earning a slow ‘yeah’ from her husband, “can you come over here for a sec?”
Once he’s back in the dining room, without Junho this time, Yuri passes you a quick look, one you recognize. But it’s too late since Yoongi is already here.
“We need to talk to you about something.”
He pulls out the chair Junho occupied earlier, sitting between the two of you, “what?”
She cocks a brow, gesturing to Yoongi with her chin while Yoongi looks at you perplexed.
“What are you two up to?”
“Nothing,” Yuri sighs deeply, “you remember Seojoon, the guy that moved in next to ___ after we got married?”
He thinks for a bit, small eyes narrowed, “y…es. Tech dude?”
“Yeah, last night he—”
“Lat night—“ you begin carefully, knowing that it’s best if you tell the story instead of Yuri given how she reacted earlier “—last night he came over.”
You keep your gaze on the charcoal grey tablecloth, drawing invisible patterns as you continue with a quickening heartbeat.
“He said we should hang out since we haven’t done it in a while…and recently, he’s been…giving me a weird vibe so I was like, okay, let me just get it over with since Junho isn’t around.”
Glancing upward, you check if Yoongi is still listening, and he is, elbow propped on the table with his gaze more pensive.
“And…we drank, well, he drank. I had this feeling, but I figured I was just overthinking it since we hung out a ton of times before.”
“What happened?”
“Uh, he…started asking me all these questions about Junho and Jungkook and money and I know it’s my fault since I should’ve have been so open with him from the beginning.”
“And?”
“I figured he was after the money but then he—God, this is so weird.”
“No, it’s not weird,” Yuri exclaims, reaching across the table to grab your hand as she grips Yoongi’s shoulder with the other, drawing his attention to her, “he was stalking her. Started talking about the party when he wasn’t even invited! About the car Jungkook bought and all that and he said other creepy things!”
Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up, “what else did he say? How do you know for sure that he was stalking you?”
“I don’t know,” you laugh emptily, “just…the things he said freaked me out.”
“And what he did after…” Yuri finishes, shooting a warning glare at you.
Yoongi turns to you, “what did he do?”
“He…well, he grabbed my hand—” you clutch your sore wrist to your chest, recounting the events from last night “—and he wouldn’t let me go. When I tried to get away, he pushed me against the door and refused to let me go still. Then he…”
“That’s harassment!”
Yoongi turns to Yuri who’s fuming all over again, his voice calm, “then he…?”
“He tried to kiss me, but I managed to push him away and kick him out.”
“And she still slept there! She should’ve called the police!”
“I’m afraid of how much he knows.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Yoongi counters, pushing the chair back as he stands up, “Yuri and I will take you back home to pack whatever you need, you’re staying with us till we deal with him.”
Yuri squeals, grabbing your hands to pull you in for a hug, “I told you!”
Perhaps it isn’t too safe for you to go back there with Seojoon around, knowing what a creep he turned out to be. And maybe you did wake up multiple times throughout the night to monitor your surroundings. As much as you hate to admit it, you had to drink several glasses of water before you truly calmed down.
She takes your face between her palms, grinning, “told you he’ll say that. Don’t worry about anything. Yoongi will sort everything out. Let’s get ready to fetch your things.”
You’re eyeing Yoongi who’s busy talking on the phone, slipping away into the kitchen.
How he deals with Seojoon shouldn’t be any of your business, right? Especially since Yuri has no idea who he was all those years ago.
Yuri holds out the purple, jewel toned silk dress, mouth hanging open, “this. You’re wearing this on Friday.”
You stuff another pair of jeans into your suitcase, huffing, “Yuri, you’re supposed to be helping me pack. Not help me pick out what I’m gonna wear!”
She tosses the dress onto your bed, resuming her search in your cupboard, “you’re right, you’re right. You could wear anything, and Taehyung would still drool!”
Heat creeps to your cheeks, “shut up!”
Butterflies swarm your belly at the mention of his name, fluttering around when you think of how your date would go this Friday. He’s taking you out to one of the…fanciest restaurants in town.
Yuri flops down on your bed dreamily, arms splayed behind her, “still can’t believe he sang you to sleep. Yoongi does sometimes…but it’s mostly me singing him to sleep! And I don’t mind, since I love watching how he struggles to keep his eyes open.”
You chuckle, aiming a camisole at her face, “he didn’t really sing me to sleep. I dozed off for a while then woke up again since I couldn’t…fucking calm down.”
“Ah,” she pouts, tugging at the hem of your shirt, “sorry babe.”
“It’s okay.”
“I wish you would’ve called us! If I saw him I would’ve—” she holds up her hands, choking the air “—you know?”
You snort, “I can take care of myself.”
“Right, right, I know,” she jokes, poking at your side, “you were part of the bees once upon a time.”
Smirking, you collapse next to her, taking a lump of her hair between your fingers. She opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of your phone ringing in the lounge interrupts her. You rush over to answer it, eyebrows pinching together when you see an unknown number flashing on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me, Jungkook.”
“O-Oh,” you chuckle, both hands clutching the phone to your ear, “hey.”
“I tried calling you.”
You scoff, “I tried calling you! And you wouldn’t take any of my calls.”
“What?”
You sit at the edge of the kitchen stool, hearing the shock in his voice, “yeah. I tried calling and you wouldn’t answer. Then voicemail.”
“That’s funny because I didn’t get any calls at all.”
You purse your lips, “I find that hard to believe.”
“I’m serious. Not a single call. And I have my phone with me all the time. You know I can switch numbers on my phone, but still receive calls on one. I explained it to you.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“But I didn’t get any from your number,” you hear him make a small sound of surprise, “and I sent Junho a few messages, but he didn’t reply.”
“What? Junho?”
“Yeah, I know you have like this safety thing on for him so he can’t receive calls from unknown numbers, so I couldn’t call you there either. He didn’t reply so I was worried, but Yoongi said you guys are okay.”
You’re already making your way to Junho’s room, finding him stuffing the miniature version of your suitcase with his own clothes.
“Oh, yeah, we’re okay.”
Junho leaps up, pulling at your dress, “can I talk to dad?”
“I’ll call you later, gotta go.”
“Alright, bye.”
“Wait, why did you try calling?”
“Oh, err…I wanted to talk to you about something.”
You hear someone speak in the background, along with shuffling, “okay, I’ll call you and we can talk.”
“Okay.”
Once you hear beeping to signal the end of the call, you set your phone down on Junho’s desk, scanning his room.
“Where’s your iPad?”
Immediately, you notice his change in expression, fingers pulling at his bottom lip.
“I got it here.”
You fold your arms, perched at the edge of his bed, “can I see it?”
He shuffles around his room, looking under the heaps of clothing and inside his drawers. Stalling. Finally, he finds it in the overnight bag he took to Yoongi’s this weekend, handing it to you without meeting your gaze.
And just like Jungkook said, you open up the messaging app to see over fifteen voice notes from Jungkook. All have been opened. But not one response from your son. Junho hovers near you, swaying on his feet.
‘Hey Smiley! How’s my big boy doing? I miss you!’
‘Smiley! What are you up to? I saw a Bugatti on my way to work today and I thought of you. I’m always thinking of you and mamma. Tell her I miss her and I miss you toooo!’
‘Junho I hope you’re okay! Please let me know if you want anything before I get back. There’s a nice shop over here and they keep Matchbox and Hot Wheels!’
‘Smiley you’re doing good? Respond to meeeeee.’
‘Does mamma like black or white more?’
‘Don’t tell her I asked, pleaseeeee.’
‘Smiley can you tell mamma I’m trying to call her. I don’t think she wants to talk to me. Ha ha.’
You glance at Junho, a dense lump lodged in your throat. He’s staring at the screen now, sat next to you.
‘I love you sonnnn, I love you both!’
Locking the iPad abruptly, you turn to Junho, heart pounding in your chest. Ears turning hot when you catch sight of Junho’s guilty frown.
“Are you going to tell me…why you didn’t respond to dad?”
He hops off the bed, short legs carrying him to the other side of the room where he grabs his headphones.
“Junho. I’m talking to you. Why didn’t you tell me dad was trying to call?”
“Because,” he grits out, back turned to you.
You inhale a shuddering breath, your own voice going against your will and booming out into the room.
“Because what?!”
“Because I didn’t want to!” He yells, stomping his feet.
“You didn’t want to?!”
“Yes!”
You grab his arm, turning his head with a hold on his chin, thumb and forefinger pressing into his cheeks, “why not?!”
He squirms out of your hold, eyes as wide as saucers, “because!”
“That’s it,” you shout, folding the cover over his iPad and tucking it under your arm, “no more iPad for you.”
“NO!”
“The weekend is over anyway.”
“Mamma,” he sobs, reaching out for you. You will yourself to look away, ignoring the way tears brim his doe eyes because you’ll give in to him. And then he won’t learn his lesson.
“Are you going to tell me why you didn’t respond to dad?!”
“Because,” he grits, shoulders lifting with each harsh breath he takes, “because I didn’t want to talk to him. He’s gone again!”
Your heart stutters in your chest, tears springing to your eyes.
“He’s gone! He left us again!”
“J-Junho…”
“I didn’t want to talk to him,” he repeats, wiping at his eyes furiously, “I didn’t want to!”
“He’s coming back,” you soothe, crouching in front of him to wipe his tears but he jerks away, stuttering through his words.
“And now you’re angry with me!”
“Junho, I’m not—”
“Yes, you are!”
You pull him into your lap, wiping his tears with the hem of your shirt.
“I’m just…sad. I was waiting for dad to call for so long and then when I tried to call him, it wasn’t going through. So, I was just worried and then I found out that all along he’s been sending you messages and you didn’t tell me.”
He buries his head in your chest, sobbing, “I’m sorry.”
You pat his back, seeing Yuri’s reflection in the mirror to your left. Spinning around with Junho in your lap, you wipe your eyes with your shoulder, sending her a maudlin smile.
“How much did you see” – you mouth to her, receiving a shrug.
“Enough.”
Later that evening, you’re trying to make sense of why Junho would do something like that. Why would he ignore his father when he loves him so much and he’s afraid that he’s never going to come back? How can a child, his age, have all the anger and willpower to ignore someone he yearns to talk to?
You’re glad that you made up after, sat with him till he fell asleep and tucked him in good, but you know you should’ve handled it differently.
Sat in the patio across Yoongi and Yuri, you take a sip of your drink, shrinking into your seat.
“Am I a bad mother?”
“What? NO!”
“Of course not.”
You giggle at their reactions, nodding.
Yoongi sits back in the couch, “why would you think that?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug, gazing up at the sky, “I just feel like I could’ve…reacted better today.”
“You were surprised, and you made up pretty quick,” Yuri quips, nudging Yoongi in his side so he can add some of his input.
“Smiley’s a smart boy, I’m sure he understood why you were mad at him.”
“If your kids don’t hate you at some point then you’re a bad parent.”
Both you and Yoongi share the same quizzical expression, eyes on Yuri who sinks into Yoongi’s side, laughing hysterically.
“What? That’s what my mother says!”
Yoongi hugs her into his side, gummy smile in place, “I guess she’s right.”
“Do you think your kids would hate you at some point, Yoongi?” You tease, hearing a rigid no from him.
“My kids are gonna love me! I’m gonna spoil them and spend all my time with them, make sure that they’re always having fun.”
Yuri stares up at him fondly, stars in her eyes.
“Yeah?”
He looks down at her, nodding with his cheeks puffed up, “mhm.”
“Can’t wait,” she giggles, reaching for his hand to place a kiss on his knuckles.
You look away to give them privacy, but you find your gaze wandering back to them. A sense of longing blooming in your heart at their precious interaction.
Taehyung pulls up in the driveway with a loud roar of his engine, radiant smile in place. You wave Yuri and Junho goodbye, taking cautious steps down the stairs as you rush over to his car. Clicking in the seatbelt, you’re unable to hide your goofy smile once you turn to face him.
“Hey.”
He gives you quick peck on the lips, his fingers brushing your chin ever so slightly but it’s enough to have your face turn hot and tingling. The taste of mint lingers on your lips, along with his playful smile.
“Hey,” he says charmingly, one hand on the wheel while the other sits on the gearshift, “you look beautiful.”
You flick your hair over your shoulder, scanning his attire. Grey, three-piece suit with a darker colored tie, hair swept over his forehead.
“Thank you, so do you.”
“How have you been?”
You gaze out the window, eyes tracking each car that passes by. A habit you picked up from your son.
“Been okay, and yours?”
“Busy,” he sighs, heel of his palm pressed to the wheel as he takes the first left turn, “things went well at our new branch. I’m just glad that I’m back home.”
“That’s good.”
He turns to you, dark brown eyes simmering with the streetlights, “to see you.”
“Me too,” you smirk, alarmed when a car honks behind you, “hey, keep your eyes on the road!”
“It’s not my fault!” He laughs, the sound rich and masculine, “you distracted me.”
Face burning impossibly hot, you fix the strap of your dress, marvelling at the bright yellow lights ahead once you come to a stop outside a large building. It’s exterior black with yellow highlights and a modern structure. ‘Beaujolais’ in a glowing, brighter yellow situated above the double doors. While you were admiring the architecture, you failed to notice that Taehyung had left his seat to make his way to your side, startling you when he opens your door.
“Madam,” he winks, holding out his hand which you take gracefully.
Once you enter, all heads turn your way, his name being mumbled in every corner of the dimly lit restaurant. You grip onto his arm, feeling him lean into your side as you’re ushered to a quiet corner in the back, an elderly couple seated behind you. Taehyung tucks you into your seat, jerking it forward till you’re snug against the edge of the table.
You wait for him to take the seat across you, but he doesn’t, instead he pulls out the seat next to you, arm thrown over the backrest of your chair.
With a flick of his finger, not one word from him, the waiter dips his head and scurries away from your table, leaving you to take in the elegant interior, a low murmur floating around as well as the soft clink of utensils.
“Are you going to tell me what happened that night?”
He’s so close you could count each pore on his face – zero. Which leaves you feeling a little exposed. But he’s unbothered.
“Which night?” You whisper, whisper because he’s speaking in such a low tone.
He drags his tongue between his teeth, a light smirk playing on his lips. The entire gesture insanely attractive to you.
“Don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart. The night you called. You’re not the type to call at midnight crying over a nightmare. Usually, you’d tell me the next day.”
You scrunch up your nose when he nudges it with his index finger, following the sparkles his rings catch with the candlelight.
“I know you too well.”
Sticking out your bottom lip, you arrange your thoughts – wondering if you should tell him. Whenever you talk about it, it leaves you in a lugubrious mood for the rest of the day, and you don’t want to spoil your evening.
“I…I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
There’s a question on his lips, eyes searching yours before he nods slowly, fiddling with the napkin on his plate.
“Alright, but you are going to tell me.”
“I will,” you promise, shoulders feeling a little looser.
“How’s Smiley doing? I wanted to pop in to see him before we left but then we would’ve missed our reservation,” he pouts, his attention carried to your neck when you throw your hair over your shoulder.
“He’s good. Ah, you can see him tomorrow if you want to.”
“I was thinking we could go to this one water park not too far from here, Junho would love it!”
“Is it the one near Jangmi? I heard about it a while ago.”
“Yeah, Yoongi and Yuri can come along if they’d like, we can leave after work and maybe spend the night too.”
“That sounds like fun,” you admit, knowing how much Junho would enjoy the water park, since he’s your little water baby, “I’ll ask them.”
“Okay. Just let me know what they say, and I can book in for us,” he mumbles, reaching into his pocket for his phone.
He’s busy texting, and you can’t help but look, he lets you too, holding the phone up so you can observe.
“Deiji?” You say before thinking, but he’s quick to respond before you can play it off.
“Yeah, her dad owns the park, so I asked if she had hold a few rooms for us until you let me know.”
“Oh.”
At the mention of her, you recall the sickeningly sweet smell of her perfume, extremely high -pitched voice to match whenever Taehyung cracked a joke. Her grubby hands on him—
“Let’s check.”
Taehyung rubs his hands together, bringing one of the menus between you. You settle on one of their chicken dishes since the name sounded delicious itself and Taehyung picks out the starter and dessert, keeping his main similar to yours. The entire time he’s pinned to your side, hands caressing your knee as he munches on his entrée cutely.
You dab at the corners of his mouth, already full by the time you’re done but once the aroma of the chicken hits your nostrils when it’s placed in front of you – your stomach gurgles for more.
“Told you it’s good,” he chuckles, sipping at his wine. Whenever you turn to look at him – he looks at you, so you can’t truly ogle him like you usually do. But Taehyung in this setting – sipping on wine, lax and calm under the candlelight, he’s truly, so breathtakingly handsome. You surge forward, pressing your lips to the mole on his nose.
His eyes widen comically, as if breaking character before he relaxes, returning the gesture which has you giggling.
“The mole on your nose—“ you say, brushing it with your finger once again.
“What about it?”
“It’s cute.”
“I have one here and here too—” he bites his bottom lip, showing you the one just there.
“I know.”
“Why don’t you kiss those too?”
Heat settles on your cheeks once again, and it’s not the wine. You find the elderly woman’s bespectacled gaze on you, her face twisted in disgust.
“Maybe later,” you wink, patting his cheek lightly.
It’s silent for the rest of your meal, till dessert comes around, a rich, chocolatey mousse which has your tastebuds tingling, moaning with the decadence as it hits your tongue.
“I come here on special occasions,” he informs, poking into his mousse.
You lick the underside of your spoon, cocking a brow, “what’s today’s special occasion?”
He shrugs, “just feel like it.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you can tell he has more to say with the way he leaves his mousse unfinished, hands disappearing under the table.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you, ___.”
You swallow the last bit of chocolate, urging him to continue with raised brows.
“I mean, about my past,” he begins, words leaving his mouth cautiously, “I know, that day, you saw those pictures of me, and my mother said I was a rebel and all, but it’s more than that.”
Setting down your spoon, you rest your hands on the table, “okay.”
He shuts his eyes, struggle shooting through them once they reopen, “I just don’t want you to see me differently from this day onward. Who I was before is a poor representation of who I am today. What you get from me now is me, one hundred percent.”
“Tae,” you giggle, catching the short tufts of hair at the back of his neck between your fingers, “you can trust me.”
“I know I can,” he stresses, ringed fingers curling around your thigh, “I just…don’t want you to see me differently.”
You inhale a deep breath, releasing the words just as slow, “I haven’t been honest about my past too…so I understand.”
He chews on his bottom lip, gaze latched onto yours.
“Alright, well, I’ll go first.”
Nodding, you readjust your position in your seat as he does the same.
“If something happens to you, and it affected you so much, won’t you swear to yourself that you won’t let your kids go through the same?”
Your chin hits your chest as you nod, his words resonating within you since you share a similar thought.
“My father refused to marry the girl his parents picked out for him and instead married my mother, gave her two children and then left because he couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t handle taking care of a family without his parents’ wealth. So he left. Leaving us with absolutely nothing.”
You’re listening intently, arm winding around his back.
“But everything caught up with him,” he exhales a bitter laugh, “anyway, I was seen as the black sheep of the family. My brother worked hard in school, and I was trying too. But when your effort isn’t recognized when you know you’re trying, it just feels like you’re doing it all for nothing, you know? At least that’s what I thought when I was younger. So I gave up, got lost in the wrong corner at the wrong time and joined the wrong crowd.”
His large hand covers yours, lacing your fingers.
“The whole time, I grew up thinking that we were born into an unfortunate family, so when my grandfather caught me picking at his pocket in a high society event, I refused to believe him when he said I was his grandson. They still didn’t help until my mother agreed to give up one of her sons to the family name. She hated them—” he grits, agony flashing behind his eyes, “—hated them with a passion, thought he was lying so you know who she gave up?”
You cup the back of his neck, whispering, “you.”
“But I refused to leave my other family behind and that’s when everything went haywire. How I ended up—” he presses a hand to his forehead, hands trembling.
“We don’t have to talk about this, Tae.”
“No, I want you to know,” he intones, fixing his posture. “Again, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, given a weapon I didn’t even know how to handle at the time with one job assigned to me and my partner. We were supposed to shake the guy up, you know? Make him pay in another way till he could actually give us the money.”
He shakes his head vehemently, brown hair flopping over his eyes.
“But things went out of control, he tried to hurt me and my partner and before you know it, I was the one who pulled the trigger.”
With that, he exhales a burdened breath, turning to you slowly as he surveys every inch of your face. You’re taking it all in, wondering if he means what you think he means.
“You…?”
“Yes.”
This should affect you a lot more than it actually is, right? Why do you feel nothing after finding out that he once killed a man…in a difficult situation. Maybe because you witnessed something like that multiple times before.
“It was self-defence, that’s what they all said, but up till today I still live with the guilt knowing I could’ve aimed lower, in his leg, in his arm.”
Then his words hit you, stomach flipping in on itself.
“Why do you…carry one with you then?”
He chews on the corner of his mouth, “I don’t anymore. I keep it in my car. That day at the warehouse, I just had the suspicion that Jungkook was gonna do something stupid, so I took it with me.”
“What if you…had hurt Yoongi? What if you didn’t aim for his arm?”
“The thing is, after that day, I went for training, I got a license and I know how to use it. Eighteen-year-old me was clueless and scared. I aimed for the pipe behind Jungkook, I guess Yoongi got scared and tried to save him, I had no idea it would hit his arm.”
“Taehyung, I don’t understand.”
“I didn’t go there intending to hurt anyone, ___. I didn’t aim at Jungkook or Yoongi, I was trying to scare him like he was doing with me. It was purely an accident.”
You’re blinking at him, slowly making sense of his words. Suddenly, your shoulder feels cold, he scoots away from you, buttoning up his blazer.
“Anyway, that’s my story. I just wanted you to know if we decide to take things further.”
You can tell how he’s feeling. He just poured out the most defining moments of his life and you’re pondering on something you’ve already discussed multiple times before. Somehow, you feel like he’s contradicting himself, saying that he’s not who he was but he’s still careless with a weapon like that. Whether he likes it or not, you’re going to have to talk about it again. But now it’s your turn.
“This is my story.”
You start from the beginning, just like he did. From your religious parents, to how you met Jungkook and Yoongi, to how things started with Jungkook, to how you found out who Jungkook’s father is. Somehow, it seems a lot worse than his story when you recall how you witnessed Jungkook’s father’s gang blow up a whole building, countless deaths taking place right in front of your eyes. How you stuck with Jungkook.
Till he didn’t stick with you anymore, retelling the story of how he left, which seems incredibly similar to what his own father had done. It makes you think.
He’s caressing the back of your knuckles with his thumb, a regretful tint to his eyes.
“Is that why you wanted us to work things out? Did you somehow relate to my situation?”
He licks his lips, “I saw my mother in you.”
Your heart clenches in your chest, vision going blurry.
“Why she did what she did.”
“Tae…”
Hoping you don’t ruin the eye makeup Yuri took hours perfecting, you dab at your eyes, unable to fight the tight lump in your throat any longer.
“But most importantly, I saw myself in Junho.”
You continue to chat, his words stir a range of emotions, words refusing to come out as you blink at him. Just then, the waiter comes around with the bill, forcing you to conceal your face behind Taehyung. You leave the restaurant in silence, soft jazz filling the car as he takes the long route back home, turning to you when you stop at a red light.
“I’m glad we finally talked.”
You smile, half his face illuminated by the city lights. This whole evening makes you feel closer to him, the yearning extending into something else, something strong and latching onto him as he sits and speaks to you with his telling eyes.
Something blossoms in your chest. You want him. But not in a lustful sense, that too, but more. Your own thoughts fail to pinpoint the feeling.
His shirt is unbuttoned, tie loose around his neck.
“What’s wrong, love?”
Acting on impulse, you unclick your seatbelt and jump across the console, catching his lips in a searing kiss. He kisses you back just as thirsty, the breath he takes in through his nose sharp and stuttered as your fingers curl around his neck, peppering kisses all over his handsome face, uncaring as the straps of your dress drop from shoulders.
Keeping you in his lap, he speeds down the highway as you continue to nip and suck at the side of his throat, hearing him groan when your tongue swirls around the bruise just below his ear. You work on giving him a matching one of the other side, turning his head for your easy access.
“Fuck, my place or yours?”
“Yours,” you hum, catching his earlobe between your teeth to hear him grunt, girthy cock pressing into the underside of your thighs. You’re soaking through your panties, pulling at his tie then working on unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, dark lipstick marks scattered across his shirt, face and chest.
Once you’re parked in his driveway, he carries you bridal style up the staircase, navigating through his mansion while you continue with you assault on your neck, heels slipping from your feet, wanting nothing more than to have his neck marked with your love. You’re being tossed onto the bed, breath hitching in your throat when you find your reflection on the ceiling, lipstick smeared across your chin and cheeks, hair a mess.
“What’s gotten into you, today?” He husks, undoing the strap on his watch before discarding his belt in a similar fashion, the clink of the clasp sending a thrill up the length of your spine. His rings come off next, clattering to the nightstand.
You kneel at the foot of the bed, working on pushing his top garments over his shoulders.
“Nothing, but I’m hoping you do.”
A strangled gasp tumbles from your lips when he fits a hand into the back of your head and grabs a fistful of hair, tilting your head up so your gaze is on the ceiling once again, the tantalizing sight of his back through his button up has you clenching your thighs together.
“Naughty today, hm?”
You grin salaciously, “you like me naughty.”
He spins you around harshly, back pressed into his chest as his fingers pull down the zip on the side of your dress, breath hot against your flushed skin.
“No, I don’t. You know what happens when you’re naughty.”
Batting your lashes, you meet his gaze in the reflection, “maybe I need you to remind me.”
His tie is being pulled over his head, rolled up into a ball before being shoved into your gaping mouth, the narrow end sticking out. You moan around the dry fabric as he pushes you back down on the bed and flips you over onto your back, dress a useless piece of material draped on your body. He’s looking down at you with a biting smirk, moonlight hitting his face as if it’s his own personal spotlight, shining on him as he removes his shirt, muscles rippling with the movement.
He sets his hands on either side of your head, you’re looking up, watching as his back flexes deliciously, setting his weight on your lower half which has you spreading your legs, core aching to be filled, touched, anything.
“That enough to remind you?”
You shake your head, watching as his jaw clenches. Whining as he pulls away, you feel a light breeze sift through the diaphanous curtains and dust your skin. Goosebumps rising as he peels your dress off your body, his eyes widening a bit once he sees your matching purple bra and thong.
He reaches for your right leg by the ankle, bringing your foot up to his mouth. Staring at the darkened spot between your legs with ravenous eyes.
You wiggle your toes in front of his face, remembering what you talked about the last time. What he likes. What you like. His eyebrows lift in question and you dare to move your feet closer to his face, core pulsing once you feel his tongue slide between your big and second toe, fingers twitching when his lips wrap around the middle one, the sensation…so new but amazing.
His cock strains in his pants – reminding you that you have another foot. Ever so slowly, moaning around the ball in your mouth when his tongue moves lower to lick at the creases in your foot, you rub at his bulge, flexing your foot against it. It’s a workout, trying to keep the right angle, but the look on his face is worth it. And as he continues to tongue at your foot, heat unfurling in your lower abdomen, he unzips his pants, pulling out his cock in one swift movement.
The tip is glazed with precum, leaking as you drag the length of your foot up and down the shaft, hearing a guttural moan from him. His cock is hot and heavy against your foot, the feeling so foreign as your toes curl around the head, feeling his juices leak between your toes.
When your foot glides down and back up, pausing at the head, his hips jerk forward, thrusting against your skin as he suckles on your toes one by one. You speed up your movements, seeing his brows furrow, lip tucked between his teeth after he lets go of your toes with a loud pop, moving back to sink to his stomach, spreading your legs with his large palms on your inner thighs.
He tears at your panties, ignoring your squeals before blowing hot air onto your puffy clit, eyes shut as spreads open your folds with his index and middle fingers.
“You’re fucking dripping,” he sighs, breath kissing your clit as he continues to speak, taunt you till you’re pushing his head down into your pussy, fingers buried in his hair, “did you enjoy my mouth on your feet that much?”
You want to say that no, I enjoyed watching you fall apart as you fucked my foot, but you can’t. Jaw aching as it stays pried open with the soggy tie.
He runs his knuckles from your clit to your weeping hole, tip of his tongue pressing into your clit. Your back arches off the bed, sticky toes curling, eyes rolling back with the sharp motion of his tongue flicking your clit at breakneck speed. Fire ignites in you lower belly a lot faster than you expected, eyes slipping open to watch as his head shakes between your legs, light stubble grazing your thighs, hot mouth glued to your cunt that responds to every stroke of his tongue.
“Hmmmmmm,” he hums into your pussy, dragging out the sound in time with the drags of his tongue against your swollen folds, tongue hooked under the hood of your clit.
You thrash under him, feet planted on the bed as you rut into his face, drenching his tongue and cheeks with your slick. Your moans are muffled, sweat building on your forehead. Breath escaping your lungs when he sinks two fingers inside you in one fluid motion, abusing that spongy spot within your walls till your thighs tremble around his face.
“Hmmmmm.” The sound reverberates through every inch of your body, cunt fluttering around his fingers.
In a second, his movements stop just as you’re nearing the edge, an animalistic sound leaving your throat when he removes his tongue and fingers, eyes glinting with mischief. He slaps your pussy twice, leaving you twitching and rolling onto your side in a ball of sweat and sadness. The position gives him access to the clasp on your bra, ridding you of the flimsy material.
His hand rears back to land a resounding slap to your cunt again, a squeal of his name leaping up your throat when he directs his attention your ass, flesh rippling under his hand.
“Didn’t think you could get away that easily, hm? You weren’t being so naughty though,” he chuckles, kicking off his pants and boxers, now as bare as you. “So that was nothing.”
The heat in your pussy tells you otherwise, begging for release.
His eyes soften, caressing your cheeks with the back of his hand as he settles between your legs, cock brushing your thigh.
“Do you remember what we talked about? Or do you need reminding again?”
You chuckle breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck as he lifts you up with one arm to put you up further on the bed, pillows resting under your head.
“I do,” you smile, locking your ankles behind his waist, “I’m on the pill.”
“I’ve only ever been with you recently,” he grins coyly, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead, “I’m clean.”
“Me too,” you say proudly, jutting your hips closer to his.
“I really want this,” he professes, lining his cock with your entrance. You eye the point where your sexes meet, waiting with bated breath.
“Me too.”
He covers your mouth with his, tongue entering your mouth just as he sinks in to the hilt. Your mouth hangs open, feeling every ridge, every twitch of his cock against your ridged walls as he drags in and out, groans pouring into your mouth.
“Tae,” you cry out, nails piercing his back as he stretches you out, walls hugging his cock with each pivot of his hips. You watch his ass move in the reflection, taking in the sight hazily till you can’t keep your eyes open any longer.
“Yes, love,” he moans, kissing you feverishly, but you’re unable to return his kisses, so enthralled by the feel of his long cock sinking in and out of your pussy, moans getting louder as the bulbous tip brushes your sweet spot on every thrust.
“I feel so f-full,” you sigh, lips pressed to his neck once he picks up the pace, chest brushing your perky nipples.
“Yeah? You do? You’re gonna feel more full when I stuff you with my cum.”
Your eyes roll back, panting into his neck as his chest stays pressed against yours, his hips working at an inhumane pace.
“Fuck, you’d like that, hm? Fill you with my cum till it’s leaking out of you.”
“I want it,” you moan, trying to meet his every thrust with your own hips, “want your cum.”
“Yeah? What else?”
You’re riding on the euphoric feeling of his cock drilling into you, speaking without thinking.
“Want you to cum inside me,” you whisper, whimpering as he continues to pound you into the bed, words stuttered with the movement, “wanna…fuck!”
His pants into your ear, sweat dripping from his forehead, “wanna what?”
“Tae,” you let out a drawn-out moan, so close to the precipice, nothing but him and his skin rubbing against yours centered in your mind.
“Tell me love, fuck, you like that name?” He laughs, cupping your chin to land another sloppy kiss on your lips.
“Want you to cum deep inside me,” you blubber, mascara streaking down your cheeks as your teeth grind into each, etching the feel of his cock buried inside you in your mind as he plunges into you at a slower pace.
“I will, fuck but where—”
You cry out, orgasm hitting you in slow, consuming waves, walls closing in around him as his hips stutter, moaning into your neck.
“Fuck, fuck, want me to cum inside you?”
“Yes,” you sigh, rolling your hips into his and clenching around him, watching as his pretty eyes flutter shut, a groan of your name filling the hot air. There’s so much more you want to say, but you’re afraid you might scare him away, given your circumstances. Like you want him to fuck you so full of his cum you might…
And then you feel him unleash hot ropes of cum inside you, the idea of him fucking a baby inside you has heat travelling up your spine again, teeth piercing into your lower lip as the sensation triggers your second high, clutching onto him as he fucks into you, making the best of it before pulling out. When you clench again, a lump of white spills out of you and you moan, the sound a little alarming to you since he’s watching you so intently, cock soft and wet against his leg.
Wordlessly, he pulls you into his arms, pecking the back of your neck daintily. Once you catch your breath, you turn to him, finding his eyes on you. You can’t help but wonder if you said something you can’t remember. If you gave too much away, but he just smiles, the same boyish smile that makes your heart skip a beat.
“That was amazing,” he mumbles sleepily, fingers trailing down the valley of your breasts. Grinning stupidly, you rest your cheek against his chest, knowing you should get up to clean yourself since the feel of his cum drying on your thighs isn’t too pleasant. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, leaving you a little dizzy. So close to him.
The sound of your phone ringing cuts through the sweet moment, and when you sit up to answer it, he pulls you back down, whining.
“Leave it, if it’s important they’ll call again.”
Settling in his arms again, you wait for the call, but it doesn’t come. And it was in your best interest not to answer anyway, since it’d just ruin your night.
Yoongi, on the other line, angry. Asking why you decided to hire someone to hack into Jungkook’s phone and interfere with his business.
erm…yeah 🫣 please let me know what you guys think !! i would love to hear from you ✉️♡
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