#i just have not been in the right headspace to answer any | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

colormepurplex2 · 5 months

Text

Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 18,286 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

Jungkook

Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.

“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.

“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.

Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”

Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.

Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.

After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.

It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.

Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.

There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.

💔💔💔

Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.

Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.

You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.

“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.

Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.

“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.

“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.

Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.

“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.

“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.

Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.

“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”

You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.

That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.

“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”

You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”

“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”

Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.

Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.

You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.

“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.

You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”

“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”

Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.

“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.

Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.

“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”

“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.

Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.

Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.

Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.

“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.

“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.

“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.

You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.

“It’s, uh…”

“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”

You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”

They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.

You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.

“You’re healthy.”

That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”

“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.

“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”

“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”

The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.

“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”

“I’d do it.”

Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.

“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.

“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.

You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.

“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.

“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”

Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”

Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”

“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”

“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.

“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.

Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”

“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.

“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”

Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”

“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”

Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”

“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.

You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”

“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.

“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”

Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.

Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.

“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.

“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.

You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.

It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.

Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”

“Hm? Who?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.

Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.

But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?

“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”

Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”

“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.

“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”

She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.

“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”

There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.

Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”

Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”

“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”

“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”

“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.

Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.

“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”

Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.

“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”

An hour later, Jungkook walks up to your apartment door. He couldn’t stop himself earlier, so he immediately texted you and asked to see you as soon as Jiyoon left for Dani’s.

The door swings open before he can knock, revealing you standing there breathless and in a set of purple checkered pajamas. “Is everything okay?” you ask, worry lines creasing between your brows. “Your text sounded urgent.”

“Oh.” Jungkook feels terrible for making you concerned. He didn’t mean for it to come off like that. “No, I mean, yes, everything is okay. But, no, it’s not exactly urgent. Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

You lean against the doorframe, eyes wide on his. “What is it?”

“Er, uh, do you mind if I come in? This is more of a sit-down kind of conversation.”

The little ‘o’ your lips form is far cuter than Jungkook has a right to think it is. His mind instantly latches onto it, wondering if the baby would have your lips or his. “O-okay, sure, come on in.”

Jungkook has visited your apartment a handful of times over the years. It’s quaint and cozy, exactly what he’d imagine for you. There are books everywhere, shelves full of thick and thin volumes of literary prose. A few art pieces decorate the walls, along with dozens and dozens of black-and-white photos in simple frames. He stirs up the recollection that you enjoy photography in your spare time.

“Sorry, again, about my text. I didn’t mean to worry you, really.” Jungkook feels nervous, unsure where to stand or even sit, until you gesture toward the couch. A handful of well-loved decorative pillows are scattered across the burgundy suede. He settles at one end as you take the other, looking at him expectantly.

A beat or two passes, and Jungkook feels like he’s about to swallow his tongue until you open your mouth, clearly picking up on his distress. “Is it something with work? I can try to fix whatever it is first thing in the morning—”

“No, no,” Jungkook holds up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s not work. It’s um, it’s actually Jiyoon. Well, me and her, specifically.”

You pull your knees up and tuck your feet underneath yourself. “Oh, okay.”

“Were you serious about what you said the other night?” Jungkook blurts, figuring it’s best, like ripping off a bandaid.

Your bottom lip has an indent left from where you tucked it between your teeth before nodding. “Yes.” Jungkook didn’t necessarily expect you to say no, but the rush of relief he feels at hearing that encourages him to press on.

“I talked with Jiyoon about it today and she—we—would be honored if you’d do that for us. If you’d give us a chance at having a family. It’s…it’s something we both, deeply, deeply desire. If you’re truly serious about it, we’ll take care of everything, all medical expenses, bills, anything…just name it, it’s yours.”

“That’s—okay, okay, yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Jungkook whoops loudly, jumping up from the couch, and drags you into his arms for a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t even begin to explain what this means to me, to us. This is…I can’t…oh my, I need to—wait, okay. Sorry, let me calm down for a second.” The word vomit is real, and Jungkook uses his hold on you to ground himself, moving his hands to your shoulders and locking his eyes on yours. “I think I might pass out,” he whispers a second before bursting into a giddy laugh.

“Whoa, um, sit down. Please don’t pass out on me. You’re too big for me to catch!” Your frantic words make him laugh even harder.

He shakes his head, on cloud nine. “I’m kidding, kind of. I just feel…I feel so light, like—well, it doesn’t matter about that. What matters is you. Please don’t feel obligated to do this. That’s the last thing I want. If you are serious, I can send all the information you need to you in the morning. But only if you’re certain.”

“Jungkook,” the way you say his name makes his heart thump heavy in his chest as if his fate hinges on whatever comes next. “I am serious. I promise. I want to do this for you, for Jiyoon…I want to give you both the happiness you deserve.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says fervently, never meaning something more in his life.

This happiness carries Jungkook through the rest of the evening, turning into a brilliant flame of intimacy when Jiyoon crawls into bed beside him hours later. For the first time in a long time, there is no schedule, no waiting for the perfect moment; it’s just the love shared between two souls celebrating the joys of life.

💔💔💔

The following day, several emails from Jungkook are waiting for you; Jiyoon CC’d on them all, as well as a few texts to check in. The idea that you could possibly be pregnant in the coming weeks or months—not just pregnant, but pregnant with Jungkook’s baby for your best friend—still feels a bit surreal.

You texted Jiyoon last night, expressing to her how much she means to you and that you’re honored she wants it to be you that helps her fulfill her dreams of having a family. She hasn’t replied yet, but that doesn’t bother you; she’s probably busy helping Jungkook with planning.

There is an entire email dedicated to medical referrals. Apparently, Jungkook spent hours pouring over all the local doctors and medical facilities vetting to find the best ones. Each has notes and suggestions under them, along with all the information you might need to call and make an appointment.

That’s really all you need to do: make an appointment for a check-up. Taehyung made an assumption of your health last night, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The last thing you’d want to do is be in poor health and unable to keep your word.

Your fingers tremble as you dial the numbers, and you have to take a few shallow breaths to get your voice to work properly. Minutes later, you have an appointment scheduled for later this week. Now, all you have to do is figure out how you’re going to wait the next few days and not burst from anticipation. It’s a slow few days.

Apparently, by Googling every possible thing you can think of about being a surrogate and pregnancies. Along with the emails full of information, by the time you’re walking into the clinic for your appointment at the end of the week, you feel confident asking questions.

“Being a surrogate is a pretty serious situation. Have you considered all the possibilities and what might be required of you?” The doctor has a pleasant demeanor; her eyes are intense yet kind. It might be the steel-colored strands scattered through her hair or the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes when she smiles, but you feel comfortable opening up to her.

You roll your lips between your teeth before saying, “Honestly? Probably not as much as most surrogates. I’m sure there are things I’m not aware of yet. It was only presented to me a few days ago. But I have done some extensive reading and soul-searching, and I know it’s what I want.”

Dr. Lee contemplates you for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe you do. Let’s get started, shall we?”

It’s not uncomfortable going through all the tests and procedures. There isn’t much the doctor does that you haven’t done before. Samples are taken, and a routine exam is performed. As you leave, the nurse tells you you should have results within the next two weeks.

Thankfully, the results come at the beginning of the following week. You’re sitting at your desk at work, reviewing the final details for the whiskey campaign Jungkook and Taehyung are shooting in a few days, when you get the notification that your results are viewable on your patient portal. A moment before you click into the email, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“Hello?” you whisper, cupping your hand around the base of your phone and mouth. A nurse rattles off your information, ensuring she speaks to the right person. “Yes, speaking.”

“I just wanted to let you know that all of your results are in, and Dr. Lee has signed off on your request to move forward with the surrogacy…” Everything else the nurse says is a bit hazy. She covers the numbers for your tests and where to find resources for more information on at-home intracervical insemination. “Do you have any questions for me? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Oh, umm, yes, sorry. No questions, thank you so much.”

The line disconnects, and you sit there for a few more moments, the phone still held to your ear, as you try to process the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you. You need to tell Jiyoon, Jungkook, someone…anyone. Pushing up from your desk, you scan the area around you for your best friend and come up empty.

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is perfect. Do you know where Jiyoon might be? I haven’t seen her since she came into the office this morning.” You rack your brain, trying to remember if you saw her leave or go into another room.

“Yeah, she called a little while ago and said that Namjoon was having her meet one of the new clients for lunch to sign some more papers.”

“Right, that’s right,” you say, recalling that Namjoon asked her to come into his office shortly after she arrived this morning.

“Why? What’s up?”

You drag a slow, shallow breath into your lungs in an effort to slow your rapidly beating heart. “I heard back from the doctor.”

Jungkook urges you to continue, “Yeah? What did they say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m great. I’m perfect. I’m—I, I can do it. We can do it. There’s a chart,” you explain, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free your hands so you can pull up the email you got and forward it to him. “It has an estimated schedule and recommendations on timing for the best results. I just sent everything over to you.”

“I got it. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh my…wow! I need to call Jiyoon. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay, thank you! I’ll call you back later, okay?” The line disconnects after Jungkook says a hurried goodbye, the elation in his voice evident.

According to the doctor's ovulation chart, the best time for you to begin trying is next week. Conception is most likely during a twenty-four-hour period. On your way home, you stop and pick up an ovulation testing kit so you can remain on track.

You arrive home filled with nervous energy, unable to stop smiling as you unpack the things you picked up at the pharmacy. A large box of pregnancy tests goes beside the ovulation kit in your medicine cabinet, along with a pack of medical gloves and hand sanitizer. You’re not sure what you’ll need, exactly, but you figure it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.

“Jiyoon!” you gush, swiping to answer the call coming in on your phone. “Hi!”

“Hey, I just got off the phone with Jungkook.” There is a lot of background noise, and it’s hard to hear her clearly.

“Oh, wonderful! I got the results today. There is a possibility of next week being—”

A loud laugh cuts through from Jiyoon’s end, the added clang of dishes drowning you out further. “Sorry, I’m still at dinner. Next week, you say? I’ll be going on a business trip the whole of next week, Namjoon wants me to travel with a client for a go-see.”

Disappointment drags at your shoulders and has your smile softening into a frown. You suppose it can wait a few more weeks. “Okay, no problem. That will give us time to plan a bit more anyway.”

“Sure thing!” Jiyoon yells, the line cutting out momentarily. “I’ll catch you later. I can’t wait to see you when I get back. Thank you. I love you so much!”

“Okay, yeah, love you—” The line goes dead before you can finish. “Love you, too,” you murmur into the quiet of your apartment.

A minor setback. But it’s okay; you’re sure you were getting ahead of yourself anyway. Taking a few weeks to confirm things and actually come up with a game plan is probably for the better. But it doesn’t hurt to start doing that now. Letting the smile that hadn’t left your face most of the day slide back onto your lips, you continue setting up everything in your bathroom so it’ll be there for when you do need it.

It turns out you don’t have to wait—at least, according to Jungkook. From the constant flood of text messages you’ve gotten from him over the last few days, as much as Jiyoon would love to be there to help, she’s given her blessing to proceed with the ICI without her. In her own words, via a text you got last night, there will be plenty more for her to be present for, and she’s far too excited for you to wait for her to return.

Jiyoon has been relatively quiet, but Jungkook explained in delicate words that she’s okay; she just has a lot on her plate right now. Even though it may seem like she’s on the outside, it’s more that this is a very sensitive topic for Jiyoon. Despite wanting a child, ICI is nearly as taboo a subject as IVF when it comes to Jiyoon; you know this. She’s told you how much it makes her feel like a failure. So, you’re content when Jungkook takes full responsibility for the surrogacy journey and has promised to be there for you every step of the way, including coming over to your place tonight to help you with the first ICI attempt.

You’ve been testing your ovulation each morning, and the positive test strip in your bathroom trash has started a full-tilt, day-long extravaganza. It’s a Thursday, just a few days after you got your green light from the doctor, meaning you were able to leave work early and are now sitting on your couch waiting patiently for Jungkook to arrive.

All your research and reading about ICI makes you nervous about what’s to come. It’s not that you’re going to be explicitly intimate with Jungkook, but you’re well aware of the fact that fresh sperm samples, as in within a thirty-minute window, are the best. Which means, he’s going to have to somehow provide the sample while he’s here.

The idea of Jungkook masturbating in your bathroom should feel awkward or perhaps embarrassing to think about, yet you’re oddly comfortable with it. It’s a natural thing, something necessary to create something that’s going to be beautiful.

By the time Jungkook knocks on your door, your hands are clammy, and it takes you two tries to get the handle to turn. He greets you with a giant smile and shining eyes, absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you parrot, unable to contain from reflecting the smile still on his face. “Please, come on in.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook steps past you, and the soft fragrance of his laundry detergent catches in your nose. “I brought everything we need,” he says, holding up a bag. He’s wearing the same denim jacket he was the other night, a white T-shirt underneath above a pair of worn, light-washed jeans, and black boots on his feet that he toes off before heading into your living room.

“Can I get you anything to drink or maybe something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?” You’re not sure how this is going to go, if it’s just going to be a clinical experience or something more comfortable between friends. Because you are friends, right? At this point, you should consider him more than just your best friend’s husband; he should at least be seen as a friend of yours, too.

Jungkook deposits the bag on your couch and turns to look at you. “Um, maybe if you had some beer or something, but I know you don’t drink—” There is a nervous energy to the way he’s talking, words coming out a little too quickly “—so, er, maybe just some water is fine.”

“Actually,” you say, hurrying into the kitchen and opening the fridge, “I got, well, is this okay?” You hold up a 6-pack of beer you bought on a whim a few nights ago. It’s true that you don’t really drink, but you weren’t thinking of yourself at the time that you bought it. In actuality, you were thinking of Jungkook, knowing he’s partial to this brand, and figured…well, you’re not sure what you figured, you bought it before you could give it too much thought.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifts, his smile turning into a light smirk. “Wow, my favorite. I’d love to, but actually, I’m not sure if I should, no matter how nervous I am right now…not until after, at least. I haven’t read anything about how alcohol might impact things, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol to drink nor a bite of junk food in the last week, just in case.”

“Oh, right. Of course, I should have thought about that.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking either, I haven’t been able to think about much at all, if I’m being honest,” Jungkook laughs nervously, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is this weird? Are you sure you want to do this?”

It is weird, but not in a bad way, and you don’t want to admit that because you don’t want him to worry. So, you simply smile and shake your head. “It’s not all that weird, it’s…well, just not weird. I am nervous,” you decide to give him at least that. “I’m worried that it might not work, or that I might do something wrong.”

“W-what do you think you might do wrong?” Jungkook asks, moving closer to you. “I’ve…I’ve read a lot about the how, I even got an informational video from my doctor.”

You can feel heat crawling up your neck. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess just the whole process in general.”

There is a beat where you can see Jungkook contemplating his words. He chews on his bottom lip, eyes unfocused for a moment before returning to you. “I could help if you want. Purely in a platonic, helpful way, no funny business, I swear.”

“Um, I don’t know if that…uh, I can try first, maybe?” You can’t seem to swallow past the thick knot in your throat at the thought of asking Jungkook to help assist you in…well, that.

“Sure, okay. Should we…get started?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicking back to the bag he dropped on your couch.

Your stomach flips at his words. “Yeah,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, feeling suddenly even more shy than usual.

“Great.” Jungkook claps his hands together before retrieving the bag from the couch. “I have everything we need. It's probably best if we begin this in the bathroom.”

Your apartment has one bathroom, which is joined to the bedroom but is still accessible through the hallway. Jungkook leads the way down the hall, flicking on the light inside the bathroom before stepping aside to let you in as well.

“Have you talked with Jiyoon?” you ask, seeking something to fill the silence as you watch him unpack everything from the bag and arrange it on the bathroom counter.

Jungkook shakes his head in a so-so manner. “I spoke with her for a few minutes earlier to let her know the plan for tonight. She couldn’t talk long and it was hard to hear with all the background noise, but she’s excited and said she can’t wait to be back at the end of the week.”

After washing his hands, Jungkook opens up the packet of a large sterile pad and spreads it out across the rest of the counter. From the research you’ve done, you recognize some of the things he begins to set out. There is a collection cup with an orange screw-on lid, a large syringe with a hose attaching it to a bulbous silicone mushroom-shaped plug, and several single-use packets of water-based lube. He also sets out a box of pregnancy tests, giving you a sheepish smile when you raise an eyebrow at it.

“I, uh, bought some, too,” you say, opening the medicine cabinet to show him the large box of pregnancy tests sitting between your ovulation test kit and your toothbrush.

Jungkook smiles. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength, huh?”

You have to stop yourself from leaning too far into the unusual, yet enticingly warm and appealing, feeling you get when he smiles like that. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the spread of tools. “What now?”

“I think we should discuss a game plan, make sure we know what to do and when to do it. There are some things I’ve read online, plus the directions in this pamphlet,” he says, slipping a folded paper from the box the inseminator came in.

Leaning in, you try to read the step-by-step process written on the paper over Jungkook’s shoulder. He shifts, steps closer to you, and angles the pamphlet to make it easier for you to see.

“Step one, collect the sample. Step two, transfer the sample into the syringe. Step three, insert the silicone plug into the…v-vagina,” you choke over the word, feeling heat licking up your neck, “as close to the cervix as possible. Step four, depress the plunger to administer the sample.”

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

You’re not sure you’d say simple. Sure, step by step, it looks pretty straightforward, but you seem to be responsible for the most challenging part, and that makes you even more nervous than before. “Yeah, simple.”

��Give me a few minutes, I need to—uh,” he points to the sample cup. “I’ll, you know.”

“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll just—" you hook a thumb over your shoulder towards the door that leads to your bedroom ”—wait in there.”

It’s hard not to pace around your bedroom as you wait. You try to stick to the far side of your bedroom, not wanting to come too close to the bathroom and overhear anything you shouldn’t. The fact your best friend’s husband is in your bathroom masturbating is a weird enough revelation, albeit a necessary one for the ICI procedure; you’d still rather afford him some privacy.

After three minutes, you stop counting the seconds that pass, realizing that means you’re counting how long it takes for Jungkook to produce the sample. Which is something you’re vehemently trying to avoid thinking about so casually.

The bathroom door opening startles you, stopping you in your tracks. Jungkook clears his throat. “Ready?”

You move over to the bathroom. “I think so.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You can do this and don’t forget, I’ll be here if you need any help, promise. Purely for help, for the process.” Jungkook swipes a finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“You’re right,” you say, trying to bolster your own confidence. “I can do this.”

You step past Jungkook and into the bathroom, but his hand on your arm pulls you up short. “Wait, wait. Would you feel more comfortable doing it in your room? It’s just that I’ve read it’s best if you could lay on your back with your hips elevated for fifteen to thirty minutes after.” He nods at your bed. “More comfortable than the bathroom floor.”

The idea of doing this on your bed crosses a line, taking this from a medical process to something far more intimate. “Maybe just a pillow,” you say, grabbing one of the decorative throw pillows you never seem to remember to put back on your bed but keep in a small pile on the floor instead.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a small smile, and it makes his eyes look soft and bright. The kind of smile you hope you can help him bestow onto a baby.

You leave the door unlocked, just in case you need his help. In your bathroom, there is no evidence of Jungkook's actions other than the very full sample cup sitting on the medical pad covering the counter.

The cup is warm to the touch, which is startling, though you know it shouldn’t be. Placing the pillow down on the floor, you shimmy your pants and panties down your legs and step out of them. There is a lingering scent in the bathroom; it’s a mix of Jungkook’s cologne but also of something clinical. You realize there are two empty packets of lube in your trashcan, and you can’t help the image that pieces itself together in your mind.

Swallowing hard against the threatening flood of further indecent thoughts, you move quickly to prepare the inseminator. It’s a systematic process you can do with little thought—safe—unscrewing the cap of the cup and filling the syringe. Once you’re in position on the floor, hips elevated on the pillow, empty packets of lube discarded and your body primed, you take the silicone plug in one hand and the syringe in the other.

The directions make it seem so easy. But as you try to fit the silicone plug inside, you can’t seem to get it to go where you want it. It keeps slipping sideways and tugging at the tube connecting it to the syringe. Your heart begins to race as you realize you might not be able to do this—not on your own, at least.

By the fourth try, fifteen minutes have passed, and you’re in full-blown panic mode. Your breath wheezes in and out as you crunch up, hands fumbling between your thighs, and sweat forming on your brow. “Oh god, oh god. I—uh, god dammit…Jungkook!” His name is out of your mouth in a strangled yell before you can stop it.

“What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” The frantic words are muffled through the door. The door rattles on its hinges, and you can tell he’s pressing up against it from the sound of denim scuffing along it, probably pressing his ear against it in an effort to hear your response.

You’ve managed to get it inside, but you’re not sure if you can get it all the way in, pressed up against your cervix where it needs to be. It’s possible you used too much lube, though the idea that it’s possible to have too much lubricant seems ridiculous. But no matter what you do or how far you press your fingers in, you’re either at a wrong angle, or your fingers keep slipping on the plug too much. Asking Jungkook for help is the last thing you want to do, but you’re not sure what other options there are.

“C-can you come in here?” you ask in a hoarse voice. There is a moment of silence before the door eases open and Jungkook sticks his head inside. His eyes are closed so tight it makes you let out a snap of nervous laughter. “I think…I think I need help. I’m sorry, I just can’t—it’s not going in all the way, I don’t think,” you gush in explanation.

“Do you—is it okay if I?” Jungkook asks, leaving the obvious unsaid.

“Um, yes…please. I’ve tried, and I just…I don’t want to ruin this. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook shuffles into the bathroom, eyes still firmly closed and arms out in the air. “Um, where exactly are you so I don’t step on you by accident?”

Snagging the edge of the towel hanging on the rack, you pull it down and drape it over your knees to make yourself as decent as you can be in this situation. “Just open your eyes, it’s okay.”

Slowly, his eyes peek open and finally land on where you’re laid out on the floor, bent knees covered in a towel and your shirt askew from all your efforts.

“How can I help?” Jungkook kneels down beside you, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the side.

“I just…I don’t know if it’s all the way in. Can you—with your hand, I know that’s horrible and weird, but I don’t know what else to—”

“No, no, it’s not weird. I said I’d help. It’s clinical, right? We’re doing this just as a medical procedure. Like I said, no funny business, I swear. It’s for the baby. I’ll help you.”

“Okay.” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut because it’s hard to look him in the eye when he’s about to—the towel shifts, and cool air licking between your thighs has your mind going blank.

“Look at me,” Jungkook requests, to which you immediately comply. “I need you to promise me you’ll let me know if I hurt you or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately, okay?” When you don’t immediately say anything, he adds, “I need you to tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

Stretching across to the sink, Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours as he washes his hands and then shifts the towel more, folding it up and over your knees. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

His fingers are gentle against your skin, softer than you expected, and warm from the water. You can feel errant droplets of water streak down your thigh and roll over the bottom of your ass. You try to focus on that feeling instead of the way Jungkook’s hand trails down your thigh until his fingers graze your outer lips.

“I’m going to use two of my fingers to try and seat the inseminator. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” this time, it comes out as more a breath than a word.

You tense at the subtle press of his fingers and how they probe their way down until they find your entrance. There is easily enough lube down there to grease a bakery’s worth of cake pans, considering the half a dozen empty packets now in your trashcan, but you can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath as he begins to press in.

“Still okay?” he asks, fingers moving achingly slow.

“I think so.”

Jungkook’s brow pinches. “I feel it…only about two inches in. I’m going to push it further now. Tell me if it hurts or is uncomfortable.”

Never in a million years did you think you’d ever find yourself in this position. Not only are you butterflied open on your bathroom floor, but your best friend’s husband is now middle-knuckle deep in your vagina, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. In fact, you’re trying to do everything you can to not think about how you stretch around the intrusion of his fingers, or that it feels far better than it should.

“Do you think you can get it all the way?” you ask, voice warbling with nerves.

Jungkook hums, his lips pushing out as if he is trying to concentrate. “I think I’m almost there. Does that feel okay, is it good?”

Not once does he look away from you as he’s pushing deeper into your body. You think you want him to look away, to break that intimate contact, but you can’t even bring yourself to do that—even though you know you should. And the whispered exchange does little to help. Is it good? You’re going to burn in hell for the thoughts now flooding through.

“Oh!” You jolt in place, eyes going wide, all previous thoughts gathering into one singular point. Jungkook mirrors your surprise, his mouth popping open in silent shock.

“I’m so sorry!” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to do that. Oh fuck, god damn, shit…okay, sorry, let me just—” Jungkook is still gentle, yet swift in finishing seating the inseminator before quickly extracting his fingers from your body. “Please believe me when I say I am sorry, and I swear I wasn’t trying…I wasn’t trying to do that.”

Your body is still buzzing from the that he’s talking about—the graze of his thumb over your clit. It’s clear it was an accident by his reaction, but it does nothing to lessen the pulse that is now singing through your body.

“I-it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It’s fine.” You’re not sure if your words are convincing enough, but Jungkook jerks his head in what you assume is a nod of acknowledgement.

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s in. Do you need me to do the syringe, too?”

“Just do it.” You exhale a shaky breath, finally tearing your eyes away from his. You’re confident he’s still watching you, even as he depresses the syringe and injects his cum into your body—as crass as that sounds in your head, that’s exactly what’s happening, and it’s the first time you think you’re realizing how truly fucked you are for this.

Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook, not in that way, but for some reason, guilt won’t leave you alone. You feel like you’ve just betrayed Jiyoon and feel even more like a ridiculous schoolgirl ruining her life over a crush on a boy. You’re intimately aware of the warmth and the subtle change in pressure as he finishes depressing the inseminator. It makes you want to squirm, but you chew your bottom lip and tap your toes instead.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft and gentle.

“I should be asking you that,” you sigh.

Jungkook balks. “What? Why would you say that? I’m fine…I’m the one that—” He nods toward where your body is now covered with the towel again. As soon as he was done plunging the depressor, he unfolded the towel and made you decent once more.

“You didn’t mean to,” you say, maybe more as a reminder to yourself than him.

“No, but that doesn’t make it okay.” Jungkook settles back on his heels, using one of the wet wipes that came in the kit to clean his hands. Suddenly, he laughs. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, look at us, we just did something…beautiful, and we’re not allowing ourselves to enjoy it.”

You chuckle softly, fidgeting with one of the ends of the towel. “It is kind of ridiculous, huh? Sorry that I freaked out and you had to do…that.”

”I’m not. Sorry, that is. I’m glad you asked for my help. We’re in this together.” Jungkook gives you a smile, similar to the one he wore when he knocked on your door over an hour ago, and takes up the hand not pinching at the towel in his, squeezing it. “I don’t know that I can even begin to articulate with words just what this means to me. Thank you so much.”

“It means a lot to me, as well. Being able to do this for you and Jiyoon is not something you need to thank me for. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the last twenty years…I just want to see her happy. You, too, of course.”

Jungkook hums in the back of his throat, keeping his hand wrapped around yours as he leans back, using the side of the tub for support. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, spanning several minutes until Jungkook speaks again. “Have you ever thought about being a mom, you know, before this?”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer with what you think he wants to hear, that this has always been your wish, but instead, you choose to give him an honest answer. “Not really.”

”Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”

If it were anyone else asking, you might mind, but…

You purse your lips before offering yet another truth. “I guess I just…I’m me, you know?”

”No, I don’t think I do know. What do you mean?”

“I’m a single woman in my thirties with no prospects on the horizon. My last boyfriend was over five years ago. I’m a modern-day spinster. Nothing is wrong with that, I love who I am…I just, no one has ever shown interest in me like that. Though it’s not necessary to have another person in the picture, it’s just that…I don’t even know, I’m rambling, sorry.”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, and it’s so hard to read his expression. All you want to do is plead with him to tell you what’s on his mind.

“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” he finally says.

”Do what?” you ask, uncertain what he’s referring to.

“Sell yourself short like that. You are easily one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. You have a successful career and amazing tastes in art and food. Not to mention, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re…you’re amazing, and I know for a fact that people think so, too.”

You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m one of them. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to do this with. After all, the baby will be half of you, too. A win-win in my book.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a small smile.

You’re pretty certain you’ve never had something create such a viscerally emotional response in you. It takes everything you have to blink away the sudden onslaught of tears that threaten to overwhelm you.

When you finally think you can speak without melting into a blubbering mess, you whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

It’s well after midnight by the time Jungkook makes it home. He’s positively buzzing and can’t even think about going to bed just yet. There is far too much going on in his head, so he decides to expend some energy in the tiny home gym he turned one of the spare rooms into.

The condo he and Jiyoon bought two years into their marriage is spacious, spanning half the second and third floors of the building. There is a three-car garage on the first floor, as well as an elevator that leads to the landing out front. Across the landing is where Taehyung lives with his roommate Jimin, another well-to-do model they met through Kim Exclusives.

Jiyoon stuck her nose up at the fact that Taehyung was buying the unit across from them when Jungkook first told her, but so far, it hasn’t caused too many problems over the years. It helps at times like this, when Jiyoon is traveling for work, to have a friend so close by. Usually, Jungkook would knock next door when he can’t get his head cleared, but for some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to tell Taehyung about what happened at your place. He doesn’t want to tell anyone, for that matter, holding onto it as a private thing for as long as possible.

Losing himself in sets of squats and curls is far safer than describing in maddening detail the way your soft, lush—Jungkook slams his hand against the squat rack and forces his thoughts away from that line of thinking.

Just because you’re a gorgeous woman with a nice body doesn’t give him the right to think about you like that. Especially considering he’s married to your best friend, whom he loves more than anything. Besides, he’s better than that, knows the whole alpha male hindbrain is the stuff of fantasy. There is no excuse for him having such sordid and outlandish thoughts about you like that. It was simply doing what needed to be done to help—for the baby.

With that in his mind instead, he moves through the motions of his workout. By the time he’s dripping sweat and his muscles are trembling with fatigue, the sun is starting to peek through the windows, and he hasn’t thought about you in hours—well, not much, at least. And when he does, he says it's just because he's thinking of what might be passed down to your baby—er—his and Jiyoon's baby—he reminds himself.

It’s been an excruciating three weeks waiting and waiting to hear from you about something other than work. After Jiyoon returned home from her business trip, Jungkook told her about that night, including the accidental slip-up. At first, she was upset, accusing him of taking advantage of her best friend. It took hours of strained conversation to get her to understand that it was more of a clinical procedure than Jungkook fingering you.

When that accusation was first thrown out, Jungkook was at a loss for words and completely thrown off the tracks. Jiyoon apologized, saying she didn’t understand how he didn’t think she’d be upset about it but that she’d forgive him for it anyway. She then gathered Jungkook into her arms, and they cuddled in bed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if Jiyoon would confront you at work over it, but as the days continued on without a peep from you, he figured things were okay between the two of you. There were times when Jungkook wished something had gone down with you and Jiyoon because then, at least, he’d have an excuse to talk to you in a way that didn’t make him look like he only cared about you now that you were possibly pregnant or with something work-related.

He knows these things take time, and there is only so much he can do. So, he’s been pouring himself into work and filling his schedule with as many activities as possible to keep his mind off of waiting.

“Jungkook, let’s go.” Taehyung raps his knuckles on Jungkook’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Head out of the clouds, daddy-o, we’re needed in hair and makeup.”

Sighing, Jungkook hauls himself off the couch in the studio waiting room and follows Taehyung into the space where the makeup and hair artists are set up. He arrived at the studio early this morning and had spent the last hour spilling his guts to Taehyung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do but couldn’t keep it contained any longer.

“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grumbles.

Taehyung smirks. “What? Is that not what you’re hoping to be called? Don’t tell me you and Jiyoon are into daddy roleplay. That might make it a little weird to have your kid also call you daddy—ow!”

Rubbing the back of his head where Jungkook smacked him, Taehyung harrumphs before sidestepping the line of chairs and taking a seat in the one farthest from Jungkook.

“Fuck off, Taehyung. After everything I just told you, that’s all you have to say?”

Taehyung throws up his hands, and the hairdresser at his station begins to comb through his black tresses. “The way it seems to me, you’re the only one making a big deal about this. If you want to check on her, I’m sure she won’t think it’s only because she’s your possible surrogate and not because you’re friends after this. And sure, you stuck your fingers into your wife’s best friend’s vagina, but so what? It was what you needed to do. If I really needed you to touch my dick in order to complete an important procedure, I hope you’d do it with a smile on your face.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but closes it when he realizes he can’t really argue against that. Taehyung is right. He did what he had to do. Hell, he knows that, he used those words himself when explaining it to Jiyoon. There’s just this feeling he can’t shake, he’s far too nervous and on edge right now. If only you’d reach out, put him out of his misery with an update.

“I hate it when you’re right. I’ll stop being such a—”

“Hi, guys.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, only staff and models are allowed back here.”

“Whoa, hey, wait. She’s our manager, and she can be here.” Jungkook is quick to spout, not caring if there is desperation evident in his voice. Once his eyes landed on you, it was all he could do not to jump up from the makeup chair, cross the room, and drop to his knees and beg for an update.

The directing assistant who stepped in your path gives you a once-over that makes Jungkook grind his teeth, but he just sighs and steps to the side. “Okay, but you’re both needed on set in fifteen,” he says, directing the last part toward Jungkook and Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I won’t be long. I just…” You hold up a thin manilla envelope and give it a shake. “Jiyoon is out of the office for the day, she said I should let you see first and that you could tell her later tonight at home. So, here I am. I thought we could look together.”

The makeup artist dabbing a sponge on Jungkook’s jaw lifts an eyebrow when he jerks forward in the chair, intent on scrambling across the room despite being in the middle of blending.

“Two minutes,” she says, stepping back from Jungkook and turning to the makeup collection on her table.

“Okay!” Jungkook springs from the chair and rushes over to you, having no regard for the way his hair flops out of place on his forehead. “Hi,” he says when he’s standing in front of you. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today.”

“I didn’t,” you tell him. “I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning, so…well, I just wanted to ensure everything was okay. They had to do a pregnancy test, it was routine.” You offer the folder to him. “Want to do the honors?”

Jungkook’s fingers are trembling as he takes the folder from you. It takes him three tries to get the flap open and to extract the slip of paper inside. You give him an encouraging smile as he looks to you for reassurance before letting his eyes sweep over the report.

“It’s…we’re…you’re…holy fuck. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant! YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Jungkook shouts before breaking out into a bout of ecstatic laughter. “Fucking hell, oh my god, you’re pregnant! I’m going to be a father. Me. A father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes!”

You join in his laughter, the sound pleasant and musical, as he throws his arms around you and spins you in a circle. There are shining tears in your eyes when he sets you down again, happiness clear on your face. “I’m pregnant,” you whisper, the words reverent and full of awe.

There have never been more beautiful words. Jungkook can’t help but say them again. “We’re pregnant.”

It’s hard to say if what Jungkook is feeling right now is considered a healthy response to what his wife, Jiyoon, just told him. But, the erratic beat of his heart paired with the incessant ringing in his ears doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just like he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience.

“Say that again,” he requests, softly smacking his lips, trying to work moisture back into his mouth.

Jiyoon sighs, shuffling the papers on her lap. “I’m pregnant,” she repeats the same words you said just two weeks ago.

“You’re certain?” Jungkook wants to believe he heard her correctly but can’t help asking for clarity again.

“I am.” Jiyoon smiles at Jungkook, her eyes watery. “It’s right here, look.”

Jungkook hesitantly takes the top sheet of paper from Jiyoon, letting his eyes devour the words and numbers on it. It’s all there, everything he needs to see and know for the truth—hCG levels far, far above average, an inked red circle around it along with a doctor’s barely legible scrawl of ‘pregnant’ beside that.

“How far along? It’s been—” Jungkook pauses to try to do the math in his head; it’s been weeks since they were last intimate—the night they agreed to do ICI.

“About eight weeks,” Jiyoon offers. “I suspected a few weeks ago, you know, when I was a little sick that weekend—the one when we found out about, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up or disappoint you if it wasn’t true, especially after such good news…so I scheduled an appointment. I had to be sure, had to be certain.”

“You’re pregnant.” The words feel thick on Jungkook’s tongue, like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of peanut butter; sweet, decadent peanut butter.

“I am,” she whispers, the confirmation turning into a squeal of laughter as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and shouts his own happiness.

Peppering kisses all over Jiyoon’s face, Jungkook hops around, alternating between shouting how much he loves her and how he can’t believe his luck. “I’m going to be a father. Twice! What did I do to deserve this?! I love you so much. Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Jiyoon giggles. “Put me down before you make me hurl.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jungkook pants, setting Jiyoon back down on her feet. “I’m just so excited!” He wiggles his hips and shimmies his shoulders. “We’ll need to order a second crib. Should we have the babies share a room at first? That seems the easier option, right? I bet there is a book on that somewhere, I need to go—”

“Hey, calm, right?” Jiyoon’s smile is warm, soft. “We have time. There is no need to rush. Can we just enjoy this for a little while longer?” she asks, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over her belly.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Jungkook wraps his other arms around Jiyoon and sighs contentedly. “I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

Jiyoon seems nervous, pushing around the chopped salad on her plate as she chews her bottom lip. She hasn’t met your eyes the entire time you’ve been at lunch. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you’ve been friends with her long enough to know that she’ll come to you with it when she wants, and pushing won’t do you any good.

“So,” she draws the word out, lips forming an exaggerated pucker.

“Yes?”

“How are you feeling?” You can tell that’s not what she wants to say or ask, but you indulge her anyway, hoping you’ll get to the actual matter of why she insisted on going to lunch with you today.

You shift in your seat, setting your fork down on your half-empty plate. “I feel good. I just have some nausea in the mornings sometimes, but it’s not too bad.”

Finally, Jiyoon’s eyes come up to meet yours. “I know what you mean,” she says, the words slow and enunciated—pointed. Her free hand flutters over her belly as if for emphasis.

“What?” The word is more breath than question. “You are?”

“I am,” Jiyoon confirms, tears shining in her eyes.

“Oh, my goodness! Jiyoon! What? But how? Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful!” You can’t contain your excitement for your friend, throwing yourself across the tabletop to hug her fiercely.

She’s laughing as you sit back down, clearly buzzing with her own excitement. “We just found out. It seems a miracle was in our cards after all. It’s still early, nine weeks or so now.” That would make it just two weeks, give or take, before you and Jungkook did the ICI.

“Wow,” you breathe, your own hand landing on your stomach. “They might as well be twins. It’ll be so cool—what?” Jiyoon’s frown stilts your excitement. “What is it?”

She casts her eyes away from yours again, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth before letting it pop back out. “I don’t know. I just thought…it’s not too late if you wanted to—I just know it’s a lot on someone, your body, the pain and everything that comes after. And now that I’m pregnant, it’s just, we don’t expect you to continue…if you don’t want. We’d be completely understanding and fully supportive if you—”

“Termination? Is that…what you’re talking about? And Jungkook agrees?”

Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that word. I’m just saying that we will support your decision to do that if you’d like. It was never in the plans to have more than one child, and now it would be two newborns at the same time…that’s a lot, you know? Twice as many diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights. It would be hard to say goodbye, but we’d still love you and not think less of you for it.”

Your mouth feels too dry for you to form words. You know what she’s saying. Though there isn’t a single ounce of you that desires that, you also understand the hesitation Jiyoon is expressing. She’s right. There wasn’t a plan for two babies. So, what now? Do you volunteer to help? Do you seek out the advice of a lawyer to know where your parental rights might sit in the case they decide they don’t want the baby in the end? So many thoughts swirl through your mind that it makes you dizzy.

“Can I think about it?” you ask, feeling for the first time a wave of uncertainty.

Jiyoon gives you what you assume is supposed to be an assuring smile. “Of course. And if you decide not to, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of system. We’ll figure it out.”

She seems so sure that no matter your decision, it’ll all be okay. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I want—we want, these babies, even if we didn’t plan for two. I was just letting you know that there is that option if you want it.”

“I-I don’t think I do, but if that changes…I’ll let you know.”

“That’s all I ask! Now, tell me, what do you think it’ll be?” she asks, patting her flat stomach again. “A boy or a girl? I’m leaning more towards a boy…”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

Jungkook still can’t believe his life. Two babies—two extraordinary miracles, it’s surreal—perfect. His calendar has never been more full. There’s the regular schedule of photo shoots, meetings, and other client work but now those are penned in between the baby classes he’s signed up for and various doctor’s appointments.

One of which is scheduled this afternoon, just a few hours after another this morning. There is your ten-week and then Jiyoon’s three-month appointment. Things have been going great with the pregnancies being so close together, but it does sometimes make appointments and times overlap. Which is how Jungkook finds himself sprinting across the parking lot of Jiyoon’s doctor’s office. He’s late—really late. He didn’t mean to arrive so late. It’s just that your appointment ran a little longer than expected, and traffic wasn’t exactly on his side, either.

Just as Jungkook puts his hand on the handle to open the door to the doctor’s office, it swings outward, nearly smacking him in the face. Jiyoon glares at him, a peeved sigh escaping her.

“You missed it.”

“What? No. I still have—” he glances down at his watch. “The appointment should have lasted at least forty-five minutes, and it’s only been thirty.”

Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “They were able to get me in a few minutes early.” She pushes past him and starts towards her car. “Everything is fine, by the way. The baby is measuring small but is still healthy. Thanks for asking,” she snarks, holding up a length of printed film.

Jungkook grabs the strip from her hand, jogging to keep up with her angry strides. “Wow,” he whispers, looking down at the 2D images. “She’s beautiful, so tiny.”

“She? It could be a boy.”

“Is that what you hope it is?” Jungkook asks, skipping ahead of Jiyoon before turning and walking backwards in front of her. His eyes barely leave the black-and-white grainy images. He traces over the faintly-there contours of the face, the delicate nose and forehead.

Clicking the unlock button on her keyfob, Jiyoon sighs again. “I just want it to be healthy. I don’t care what gender it is.”

“You don’t care?” Jungkook purses his lips, finally looking up at his wife. She’s wearing a designer pantsuit, the deep navy complementing her porcelain complexion and making the red lip she has on pop beautifully. Pregnancy looks good on her. He opens his mouth to tell her so when she cuts him off.

“Don’t say it like that. Of course, I care. Good god, Jungkook, why do you have to make me feel like shit all the time? First you missed my appointment, because why? Because you were busy playing daddy to someone else. And now, here you are, accusing me of being a terrible mother before it’s even born. Fuck you. Fuck you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook is so confused. “What? I didn’t—playing daddy? What are you talking about? I already said I was sorry for missing the appointment, you know the times were really close. It was her ten-week appointment. They were measuring her nuchal translucency, you remember how important that is!”

“Whatever,” Jiyoon deadpans, pushing around Jungkook and climbing into her car. “I have a meeting tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

Before Jungkook can respond, the door slams shut, Jiyoon turns over the engine, and takes off. Maybe not everything is perfect, he laments to himself, mulling over his earlier thoughts. With a determined expression on his face, Jungkook makes his way to his own car and promises to do his best to make this right, vowing not to let something like this happen again.

Of course, it’s only some weeks later that Jungkook has to break this vow. It’s not his fault, it’s no ones. It seems that life just wants to test him, perhaps make sure he’s honing his time management skills for when the babies come.

Everything has been going great since his hiccup with missing Jiyoon’s twelve-week appointment. He’s been able to shuffle around his schedule and work with the both of you to ensure appointments don’t overlap or are too close together.

Jiyoon has become reliant on him, which is something Jungkook revels in. It’s like their marriage is finally back to the way it once was, full of nights cuddled in bed and romantic dinners—sans the wine. While you’ve been fiercely independent, yet charmingly sweet when it comes to Jungkook and Jiyoon and sharing the pregnancy experience with them.

There have been a few discussions about the fact that now there are going to be two babies instead of one. Jungkook has spent nearly all of his free time turning the guest bedroom into a nursery fit for two. His home gym has become a catch-all, most of the equipment being confined into a corner to make room for the furniture that came out of the guest room-now-nursery.

It’s been a lot, but it’s something Jungkook would never trade for anything in all the world. He’s positively jubilant over the prospect of being a father. It’s something he’s dreamed about for as long as he can remember. Now, it’s just a few months away, a permanent light in his life.

“J-jungkook?” your trembling voice sounds through his phone when he swipes to answer the call, tossing the paint roller into the bucket. Butter yellow coats the walls of the nursery and dots the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I think so. I don’t know. I slipped on the stairs, I’m at the ER right now—”

“I’m on my way!”

“Jungkook, no. It’s okay. I know you have things going on today. I just thought I should tell you. Jiyoon was in a meeting, so Namjoon said he’d pass her a memo when she was done.”

He’s supposed to attend a First-Time Fathers class in an hour, and Jiyoon has her twenty-two-week anatomy scan this afternoon. The class can wait. If he’s lucky, he can go to the ER, check on you, and then make it to Jiyoon’s appointment.

“No, no, you’re not sitting in the ER by yourself. I’ll text Jiyoon and let her know that I’m leaving now to come check on you.”

“O-okay.”

The line disconnects, and Jungkook slaps the lid on the paint bucket and throws a plastic sheet over the paint tray. If it dries out, then it dries out. Paint can be replaced; your health is far more crucial right now.

Walking into the entryway, he thumbs open his messages and types out a quick text to Jiyoon before tossing his phone on the small bench by the door so he can pull on his shoes.

It’s a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, and it takes another ten minutes of searching to find you sitting in a waiting room with a large ice pack resting on your right foot.

“Hey, are you okay? Have you been seen yet? How long have you been here? What happened?”

You hold up a hand to ward off more of his word vomit, an embarrassed smile soft on your face. “Slow down, have a seat. I’m okay. They said I should be called back soon.”

Instead of sitting, Jungkook kneels on the floor in front of you. His fingers the ice pack, his face falling even further. “What happened?”

“I slipped in the stairwell at work, missed the last step and came down hard on the side of my foot.”

“Can I?” he asks, fingers moving to the corner of the ice pack.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Lifting it gently, Jungkook takes in the sight of your foot. The black ballet flats you’re wearing give him a clear view of the swelling that’s already beginning along the top and side of your foot.

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

Before you can answer Jungkook a nurse comes through one of the doors, pushing a wheelchair. She wheels it over to you and says, “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook slips his arm under yours as you stand before slowly helping you lower into the wheelchair. “Would you like to push her back?” the nurse asks Jungkook.

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

“Of course. Unless you’d rather wait out here, and I can call for you when your wife is done.”

“Oh, she’s not—”

“I’d like for you to come if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be alone,” you interject before Jungkook can correct the nurse. She gives Jungkook a polite nod and gestures towards the door she came through.

“Please come right this way. We’ll need to get a quick weight and a urine sample before I can get you into your room, where the doctor will see you shortly.”

Jungkook aids you the best he can, helping you to and from the wheelchair as he can. He almost asks if you want him to come into the restroom with you, but you give him a quick shake of your head before closing the door on him.

What feels like an eternity later, you’re finally settled on a bed with Jungkook sitting in the chair beside it.

“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I know I said I wanted you to come back with me, and it’s not that I want you to leave, but please don’t feel obligated to stay. I know you have a lot of other things going on.”

Shifting his chair closer, Jungkook reaches for one of your hands. “Nonsense. I’m glad you called. I feel bad that I haven’t been to as many doctor’s appointments with you. I feel like it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve even seen you. I wish our schedules worked out a little better. Perhaps, as my manager, there’s something you can do about that?” he asks, giving you a jesting wink.

“I was trying to give you more time to go to Jiyoon’s appointments!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

“I know, but in case you forgot, you’re also carrying my child. Don’t get me wrong, though, the texts are great, and I really appreciate the weekly baby bump pictures, but it’d be nice to actually see you. Though, maybe next time, let’s make it not where you’re laid up in a hospital bed, not yet, at least,” he adds on with a low laugh.

This is the first time Jungkook has seen your bump in person. The soft swell under your shirt calls to him, and he wonders if it would be okay to touch it. As if you’re reading his mind, you take the hand that’s wrapped around yours and press it gently over your stomach.

“Kinda weird, huh?”

“No. No, not weird at all,” Jungkook says, being completely raw and honest with you. Jiyoon is touchy about her belly, pun wholly not intended, seeing as she doesn’t let him touch her bump nearly as much as he’d like to. She’s only recently started to show, and it’s hitting her hard, with which Jungkook tries to empathize. He can’t imagine being pregnant and how much a body changes; he’d probably feel things like that, too.

He spends a moment absorbing the feel, trying to imagine the little life growing just a few inches below his hand. Life he helped create. He’s so in awe he could cry…if it wasn’t for the door opening and breaking the momentary spell over him.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee. I’ll be your attending today. I hear you slipped down the stairs today and are worried your foot might be broken?” The cheery, middle-aged woman chatters away, washing her hands and drying them off before offering one to you and then to Jungkook.

“Yeah. I missed the last step and landed on the side of my foot pretty hard.” You shake your head with a rueful smile. “I should have just waited for the elevator.”

“Oh, ouch. Let’s take a look,” Dr. Lee coos. “May I?” She gestures to the blanket covering your feet. Jungkook helped you remove your shoes once you were in bed and tossed the blanket over your feet so they wouldn’t get cold.

“Of course.”

Dr. Lee pulls back the blanket and gently probes at your foot, turning it slowly side to side to get a better look. “Does this hurt?” she asks as she rotates your ankle.

“A little, not as much as putting pressure on it, though.”

The doctor nods. “I think it might be best if we do an x-ray just to be sure it’s not broken.”

“Won’t that be harmful to the baby?” Jungkook asks.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to protect your little one.” Jungkook nods his understanding. “Is it your first? You look a little green around the gills, first-time-father jitters.”

Jungkook isn’t entirely sure how to answer that. Because, technically…no? Considering Jiyoon is approximately two weeks further along than you are. Would that make her baby his first? A laugh, barely restrained, simmers deep in Jungkook’s chest.

“Something like that,” he finally says, earning another warm smile from the doctor.

“Alright, let’s get started so I can get you two out of here as soon as possible.”

The word ‘soon’ should be a relative term when it comes to hospitals—or a word that hospital staff is barred from using. Jungkook doesn’t mind spending the hours waiting with you. In fact, you’re pretty pleasant company. That’s not to say Jiyoon isn’t when Jungkook attends appointments with her; there’s just a different level of expectation, he thinks. He hopes this baby will have your patience and grace like that.

Jiyoon wants a quiet observer sitting in the corner, whereas you’re welcoming to his insights and curiosities. You haven’t hushed him a single time when he’s voiced a question of any of the medical staff. In fact, it almost seems like you welcome it, comfortable in letting him show his concern for you.

Thankfully, the x-ray showed no break or fracture. You’ve been given a temporary boot to wear for the next week and strict instructions not to overdo it. “Got it,” you say once the nurse has finished explaining everything to you.

“Now, before we discharge you, we would like to have a sonographer brought in to check on the baby. According to your charts and file, you’re at the twenty-week mark now.”

Jungkook stands up, panic worming its way in. “Should we be worried? Is everything okay?”

The nurse gives him a motherly smile. “That’s what we would like to check.” She turns her attention to you. “You didn’t fall on your belly, but with any trauma to the body, it never hurts just to be sure.”

Of course. That makes sense to Jungkook, but he looks to you for confirmation. “Yeah? You want to do that?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Jungkook has only attended two live ultrasounds in all the doctor’s appointments he has been to. He has many printed ultrasound images that are now stuck to the refrigerator at home, one side for Jiyoon and the other for you. But he’s only managed to attend one for Jiyoon and one for you, so this will be a wonderful treat.

“Okay, they’ll be here in just a moment.”

A few moments pass after the nurse leaves the room, and Jungkook allows himself to truly assess his internal feelings. He’s thankful that you’re okay and will feel even more at ease once the ultrasound confirms the baby is alright, too. It’s wild for Jungkook to think that just a few months ago, his life felt like it was on the verge of falling apart. There was a steadily growing rift between him and Jiyoon, and you were just Jiyoon’s best friend.

Now, however, he feels closer than ever to his wife, and you’ve managed to carve out your own little pocket in his heart, too. It’s alarming, yet comforting, to realize that there is something more between you and him—a deepening connection that’s still delicate but growing more solid with each passing day.

“You feeling okay?” Your voice breaks through Jungkook’s reverie.

“Hm? Me? I’m great,” he assures, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You’ve barely let his hand go the entire time, to which Jungkook won’t complain. “Does it hurt much?” Jungkook nods toward the end of the bed, where your feet are back under the blanket.

You shrug. “It’s not so bad while laying here.”

“Hi!” a bubbly voice calls from the door a second before a young blond woman wheels an imaging cart into the room. “Are we ready to get a look at your little one before you guys go home?”

“Yep.” You give Jungkook’s hand a light squeeze. “Excited?” you ask in a soft voice meant only for him.

“Very,” he tells you, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Now, this won’t be nearly as good as if we were in radiology in an exam room, but all we really want is to get a look to make sure everything is okay. Besides, who doesn’t want to take a peek when you get the chance, right?”

The tech, with Jungkook’s assistance, helps you adjust on the bed until you’re in a comfortable position for the ultrasound. Jungkook feels frozen as you tug your blouse up and over your belly, giving him his first real glimpse of the swell in all its glory. It’s one thing to see it through your shirt, another thing entirely to see it like this.

“Cold,” you chuckle as the tech squeezes a glob of contact gel onto your lower belly.

“Sorry about that, these carts unfortunately don’t have the warmers on them. Ah, here we are,” she sing-songs when she smoothes the wand over the gel. “Look at that.”

Jungkook tears his eyes from your face, focusing his gaze on the imaging machine's display screen. His breath stutters in his lungs, and a wave of pure, unrestrained joy washes over him.

“They’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Jungkook watches as an arm moves across the screen, followed by a little kicking foot.

“Seeing them never ceases to take my breath away.” You take the words right out of Jungkook’s mouth.

The tech hums, giving you a soft smile as she moves the wand around to different angles. “No gender yet?” she asks. “I’ll try to be careful here, don’t want to have any spoilers…unless you would like to know?”

It’s hard not to be curious. “Is it not too early to tell?” Jungkook asks.

Turning the screen slightly away from you and Jungkook, the tech says, “Um, nope. Not too early. Everything looks good, though. So, if you’d rather wait, we can get cleaned up and be done here.”

“What do you say?” Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow.

Your teeth leave a dent in your bottom lip as you worry it for a moment. Another thing he thinks would be cute to see his mini-me do. “I kind of want to, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admits, loving the fact that you do.

“Okay, wonderful. In that case,” the tech says before moving the screen back and adjusting the wand on your belly. “Take a look here.”

When Jungkook arrives home, the sun has long since gone down, but he’s so high on cloud nine that he can’t bring himself to care. The large smile on his face hasn’t slipped in the slightest.

Jungkook is certain nothing can bring him down. At least, that is, until he walks through the front door of his condo and straight into hell. Jiyoon is sitting at their dining table, her expression completely devoid of emotion.

“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” Jungkook hesitantly asks, eyes sweeping the open layout and taking note that the only light on is the recessed one directly over Jiyoon. His smile slowly fades, replaced with a crease between his brows.

“What’s going on?” she asks in a cold voice.

“Is everything okay?”

Jiyoon sniffs, her eyes narrowing, the first sign of emotion he’s seen since he walked in. “No. Everything is not okay.”

“O…kay,” Jungkook draws the word out, letting his mind flip through its internal catalog, trying to find pieces of the puzzle to put together.

“Where have you been?”

“There was an accident. Did you get the note from—”

“You’ve not answered any of my calls or texts.”

“I sent you a text before I left. I think I misplaced my phone, I can’t seem to find—”

“You missed my appointment!” she sneers, cutting him off once more. “And you did not text me. I haven’t heard from you since this morning.”

Realization hits, and the warmth drains from Jungkook’s face. He was so focused on everything with you, the panic and then the joy, that he completely spaced on everything else he should have done today. But also…

“I swear I texted you to let you know I was going to the hospital. I was going to make sure everything was okay.” As soon as your name falls from his lips Jiyoon shoves back from the table and rounds it, getting in his face. “She slipped at work and thought she might have broken her foot. Namjoon was supposed to give you a note about it since you were in a meeting. She called me. I was worried. I didn’t mean to miss your appointment. Were they able to determine the gender?”

Jiyoon jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Not. Good. Enough. I’m your wife, not her! You’re supposed to be with me! Instead, you spend all your fucking time with your nose up her ass when you barely even know her!” Jungkook staggers back as her poke turns into a fully-palmed shove. “You’re un-fucking-believable! What a goddamn joke.”

“Jiyoon, that’s not fair. Something could have been wrong with the baby. It was an emergency,” Jungkook says, trying to make Jiyoon see reason.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck you! Why do you care so fucking much about that stupid baby?! All you do is fawn over the photos and re-read her text updates! This,” she gestures wildly at her stomach, “is the baby you should care about! Yet you can’t even show up when it counts.”

“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Jungkook keeps his tone level, refusing to be baited into a knock-down-drag-out with her.

“No!” Jiyoon screams, making Jungkook flinch. “You are ridiculous.” Suddenly a menacing smile cuts across her face. “I bet you slept with her. Didn’t you? That’s it, you’re feeling possessive because you fucked my best friend, and that’s how she got knocked up, isn’t it?”

Jiyoon’s words spark a ringing in Jungkook’s ears. “What?” he whispers, the word barely forming.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Jungkook. I know you too well for that. Let’s not forget your little slip-up—” she throws up air quotes as she says that “—the night you supposedly did ICI.”

“I told you it was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it!”

Sarcasm is a heavy, bitter layer in Jiyoon’s reply, “You just so happened to touch her clit? Just a little oopsie, so innocent. You’re too nice to outright lie to me, so, of course, you come up with some half-truth, expecting me to believe that you didn’t want it, that you weren’t secretly gnawing at the opportunity to try and seduce my best friend!”

“That is not what happened at all!”

“So I’m supposed to believe my pathetically inexperienced best friend is the one that seduced you, then?”

“What? That’s not what I said at all. No one seduced anyone. You’re being fucking crazy right now. You know I’d never do that to y—”

The crack of Jiyoon’s palm against his jaw stuns him into silence. “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” she screams. “You’d never do that to me? Yeah, right. You’re a man, and that’s what men do! Heaven forbid a woman works hard and spends time away from the home, trying to provide for her family. Is that it? I’m gone too much for your sad little dick, so you have to chase after the first desperate pussy that comes your way?”

Jungkook presses his fingers over the searing heat licking up his jaw where her hand struck him. “Jiyoon, no, it’s not like that at all,” he says, losing his momentum because he’s not sure what he can say at this point to make her see reason. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Fucking my best friend because she’s convenient and out of spite for me being gone so much? No, that sounds exactly like something you would do. Well, looks like it’s your lucky day because two can play that game, asshole. Enjoy your fucking prize!”

Jungkook jerks back, as if Jiyoon just slapped him again. “What does that mean?”

She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “This baby—” she seethes, rubbing over the small swell of her belly, voice rising with every word “—it’s not yours, you pathetic bastard!”

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-04-25 ColorMePurplex2

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #dilf jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts imagines #bangtanwhq #btsfests

1K notes · View notes

sunboki · 3 months

Text

— MR. FIREFIGHTER.

Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. firefighter! au, neighbors! au, coincidences, power outage.. hehe

WARNINGS. cursing? chan being a firefighter bc HELLO

AUG'S NOTES. hi hi, ya’ll wanted more firefighter! chris? me too i gotcha

In a neighborhood like yours, power outages were common. But of course, with your luck just moving here, nobody paid any mind telling you.

Perhaps that’s the best explanation as to how you ended up at a strangers doorstep, your phone’s flashlight making the entire experience look a thousand times more pathetic the longer you shifted from foot to foot.

You’d been plugging in your charger, only for your entire bedroom to fall pitch black. Initially, you assumed it was simply a broker malfunction, leading to—after carefully hobbling out to the garage—a multitude of failed attempts to ensue.

About halfway from leaving does the front door open, and upon turning around are you met with a sight pitifully breathtaking.

Blond, messy hair rests atop a well sculpted face, masculine features on tanned skin, dark chocolate eyes belonging to that of the finest sweets.

“Hello?” He asks, voice thick with an accent you deem Australian.

“Oh yeah uh, the.. the power?” Winding your index around haphazardly, the man looks you up and down (an action that shouldn’t have brought such blood to your face), glancing around and wetting his lips before inviting you inside.

Sure, he may be a serial killer, but if that man strangled you, you’re not sure you’d be too upset. Shameless, but who disagreed?

Without a word nor greeting, he slinks into a small kitchen area, leaving you to curiously investigate your surroundings. You note the huge, beige boots by the doorway, the firefighter’s hat lingering on a coat hook.

And he’s a firefighter? Good fuck have mercy.

“‘Happens a lot,” The frustratingly attractive stranger grumbles as you enter the living area, candle-light illuminating the plushness of his lips. It takes you a moment to register he’s talking, too busy reigning yourself into a sane headspace.

He hands you a small mug of tea that’s warm to the touch, beckoning you to take a seat.

“And by the looks of it,” He laughs a low, bemused laugh. “You didn’t know that…?”

“Y/n, it’s Y/n.” You introduce, sipping the steaming beverage carefully.

“Scared?”

“Mm, little bit.” Truthfully answering, you scorn your bashfulness, hating how the way he’s merely looking at you disorients every sensible article of your brain.

Reaching forward, he fondly pats your head, eyes crinkling in the corners when smiling.

Just then you abandon all hope of remaining civilized.

“There’s nothin’ to be scared of, just light some candles ‘n wait it out. Plus, it’s good sleeping conditions.”

If he keeps talking you’re certain you’ll dig a human sized hole and bury yourself in it, because of course you had to knock on his door, him who you’ve become smitten with without even knowing his name.

Before you can apologize for likely waking him up, he interjects.

“But be careful with candles. ‘Don’t wanna start a fire.”

Recalling his firefighter status, you raise your brows, leaning back into the cushions.

“You’d save me, right Mr. Firefighter?”

Momentarily, surprise etches his face.

He grins.

“Nah I’d—”

You smack his arm and he laughs—a kind of laugh that makes the entire room burst alight.

“Of course I would. And It’s Chan by the way, but you can call me Chris.”

Already getting comfortable with conversation, you rest your chin upon your hand, studying.

His mannerisms (as much as his looks could kill) are rather adorable. They’re nervous, fiddling opposed to the career he chose.

A man with a deadly duality.

Charming.

“Oh? Nickname privileges?” You mischievously pique, witnessing that shyness once more.

He covers his face with his hands, dissolving into the couch, evidently embarrassed. The urge to continue becoming irresistible.

“Say, Chris, are you flirting with me?”

Peering through his fingers, Chris’ lips pull tug upward slightly, seeming to mirror your sly attitude.

“I don’t know, am I?”

Perhaps it’s your imagination, but his voice seriously just lowered a pitch and all ability to bite back has turned to dust. And now you can certainly say your feelings are justified, especially from his eyes. Brown hues boring into you, sending your heart a thundering mess.

No, no no, don’t say that. That’s not fair.

As if on cue the lights flash awake and you spring up from your place, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks.

Barely making it out the door before Chris pulls you back around, his hand loosely grasps your wrist, stuffing a piece of paper into your palm adorning that same stupid smile you’re effortlessly falling in love with.

Inside his number is written, and more than ever you feel like a teenage girl passing notes to her boyfriend in class.

“Just in case,” He claimed, clearing his throat as if that would magically cure his noticeably pink ears.

Take it back, you’re both teenage losers fighting to see who cracks first. Nervous wrecks, red faces.

“In case my house burns down?”

“That’s a plus, yep.”

“You’re awful.”

Chris, walking you up to your door despite being a mere foot away, giggles his delight, bidding you good night. But seconds before he turns around it’s your turn to be spontaneous, and you press a soft kiss to his cheek prior to racing inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Covering your mouth with your hands in order to suppress the utter squeal threatening to break your lungs, you feel seconds from physically imploding — ignorant to the fact that outside the door, Chris is currently doing the same thing.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

944 notes · View notes

featki · 4 months

Text

I'm sorry, baby !

— pairing: 西村力 x reader — contains: Fighting, mean ki, angst — now playing: 一子青葉

Sitting on your boyfriend's bedroom floor holding back tears wasn't entirely how you wanted to spend your Friday night.

This fight was stupid, you both knew it and yet it still happened. Granted of course couples fight, it's just what happens. But never has Riki yelled at you like that, over something that wasn't even your fault.

"Riki please, I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong."

"I get that, but I've already told you it doesn't matter. Why do you always have to be so damn clingy all the time." Anger laced his voice

"It does matter Niki. It matters when it's hurting you."

"Don't call me that damnit." Using his nickname struck a chord with him. He hated it when you used his nickname. It felt more intimate when you called him Riki or Ki. No one else did, everyone else called him Niki so using his real name and not his stage name felt so good, refreshing almost.

He left the room without saying any more, slamming the door harder than he wanted to.

And now you were left alone on his bedroom floor in his chrome hearts hoodie.

You knew he wasn't in the right headspace, he was tired and stressed. You knew that but you couldn't do anything about it until he talked to you, until he said asked you to help. Riki's never been super open about his feelings but you'd always get him to open up eventually. He's never held them back this much before.

Eventually, you decided to check on him. You wanted to follow him originally but thought he needed space so you left him alone.

You opened the door slowly, peeking your head out first. He was sitting on the couch with his legs up and his head in his hands, pressing up against his eyes, his brows were furrowed, almost as if he was crying. TV was so loud, he hadn't noticed the door opening so you continued. Slowly closing the door behind you, walking up to the corner where the hallway and living space meet.

"Ki?" Hoping the use of the sweet nickname would keep him from getting angry again.

He didn't answer but instead just looked up at you, eyes wet, cheeks pink, lips red and puffy. You were right, he was crying.

Crying wasn't something Riki did, the only times you saw him cry was when he was missing his family, or overly stressed, and you were the same. Tears just never came easy for you, it's something you've been ridiculed for. Being called "Cold" or "Emotionless" was something you became used to, but seeing Riki cry made tears well up in your eyes. You choked them back and went to sit next to him.

He didn't spare you a glance, still spacing off.

You felt so bad. A sinking feeling forms in your stomach. You contemplated just leaving but realistically that wouldn't help anything. Instead, you sat there, contemplating what you would say.

"I'm sorry Ki"

"Stop." He still sounded angry, your stomach churning as you frown slightly.

A short silence, then he follows up with "You have nothing to be sorry for." He felt so guilty. He knew it wasn't your fault he feels like shit, it wasn't your fault he was stressed and overworked but he still took it out on you.

"I made you upset though, I didn't mean to I swear" You sounded so defeated, almost like a child after getting scolded. His heart broke into a million pieces hearing you blame yourself for his outburst. "No no this isn't your fault. I promise it's not you" He finally looked at you. His usual blank gaze transformed into what looked like a puppy dog. His eyes were still wet and brows furrowed with worry and guilt.

You looked back at him with tears welling, he didn't understand how he could treat you, the love of his life, the way he did.

After the dreadful silence, you decided you'd just leave. You didn't want to but the pain of seeing him like this was too much, especially when you couldn't help him.

Riki grabbed your arm, with pleading eyes screaming for you not to go, whether he said it or not. "Where are you going?"

"I was gonna give you space."

He sits on the couch properly and hugs your waist. "Please don't go" His voice was wobbly and quiet "Ki..."

"Please, baby. I love you so much and I promise I'll show it properly." You start to run your hands through his hair, massaging the nape of his neck.

"And I'll make it up to you too. It wasn't" He choked on his words "It wasn't right for me to take my stress out on you. You're perfect and you're the only thing that makes me feel right. Please don't leave."

You've never seen him so needy, so clingy. He always clung to you but this is different. He sounded desperate for you. Like he'd die if you walked away "I'm not gonna leave Ki."

He gripped onto your waist tighter "But, I'm your girlfriend Ki. If you're hurting you can tell me... I know work is busy. I know they're overworking you but next just talk to me. Please baby, I love you, and seeing you like this sucks." You move one of your hands to his bicep and start rubbing circles with your thumb, his muscles were sore from dance practice.

"I care about you, and I don't want to fight with you. Especially over this."

"I know, I'll tell you next time. Okay? I'll tell you everything that's going on. I promise" He lifted the sweatshirt you were wearing a little, wearing nothing under, he kissed the side of your stomach.

"Thank you, baby."

He mumbles a small, sleepy "Of course..." while he's still kissing the side of your stomach.

"Let's go to sleep, baby." You say while slightly pushing his head away from your stomach "Mmm okay" He picks you up, burying his head in your neck as he walks to his room.

He lays you down on the bed, laying on top of you, cuddling into you like a little baby. He would never admit it but he loved it when you baby-ied him. Sure in front of the other members, he'd hate it but when you guys are alone and he gets to just be lovey and cheesy, it means so much to him.

"I love you, Ki, so much" When he didn't respond you lifted his hair up to see him just to realize he had already fallen asleep.

Whenever he cries he usually falls asleep in your arms within minutes so this was nothing new.

You kissed his head, while still playing with his hair. You fall asleep in his arms, and at the end of the night, you care for Riki so much and only want the best for him. Fights are going to happen. It's inevitable, but luckily for you, Riki always knew how to make things better, how to make you feel better, he loves you so much, and he'd do anything for you.

The next day after school you walk into the house after Riki walks you home just to see a huge container of Smiski blind boxes and flowers on the counter, with a note saying "I love you, baby :)"

You could never stay mad at him

@ featki

Note: This was kinda rushed and not proofread... sorryyyy !! Been thinking ab this for awhile so wanted to write it. ALSO Niki kissing your stomach is NOT meant to be taken in a suggestive way at all. It's cute so don't take it weirdly.

#enhypen #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #niki enhypen #niki #♡⸝⸝ featki

434 notes · View notes

bimbo-baggins17 · 12 days

Note

stripper!anakin who uses us for "training"..(I mean smutty smut with Anakin's damned skills)

- yours forever, 🐇

BUNNY YOUR MIND IS BRILLIANT AND I WANTED TO GATEKEEP THIS SO BAD! I won’t lie, idk how to really write dancing or stripping so..this is the best I can do 🫡

I’m pretty sure stripper!ani is a concept already, idk the creator but all credit goes to them! Tag them if you know who it is!:)

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

“Thanks for agreeing to do this for me.” Your best friend Anakin says as you get settled on the seat he had set up in the middle of his living room.

You nod your head, “Of course. Don’t even mention it.” You wave a hand dismissively. He had asked for help with a job interview, just didn’t mention any specifications. “What job is this for?”

His cheeks turn a little pink, “I uh…you know the um..the Black Stallion club..?”

You nod your head slowly and then it clicks. Your eyes widen and you gasp at your best friend. “Oh my god! The strip club??”

The color of his cheeks darken as he nods in confirmation. “..yeah..”

Anakin was obviously attractive. You have eyes and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t look at him in that way. “And the interview is…?”

He sighs again, hands on his hips as he looks away, unable to meet your gaze. “Come up with my own 2 minute routine.” He answers quietly.

“And I’m here to help you come up with one?”

Anakin shakes his head, “No..I was gonna..er..show it to you..make sure I can perform in front of someone.”

Your eyebrows shoot up immediately, “Oh..”

Slowly he nods his head, “Yeah..”

You’re quiet for a moment before steeling your nerves, “Alright so show me.”

He lifts his head, “Really? You’re sure?”

You nod your head. “Yeah. Of course.”

He takes a deep breath and nods once, “Okay..just..don’t laugh at me.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Satisfied, he pulls his phone out, connecting the Bluetooth up to his speakers. Before hitting play he takes another deep breath to calm his own nerves and focus.

‘Unskinny Bop’ by Poison starts to come through the speakers.

He closes his eyes for a second to get into the right headspace before opening them with a newfound determination in them. His body starts to move rhythmically in ways you haven’t seen before. He makes a show of taking his white tshirt off, tossing it somewhere in the livingroom.

Your eyes drift down his exposed torso. You knew he was muscular but it seems like he’s been working out way more, his six pack more defined now. Anakin moves closer to where you’re sat on the chair. He stands so both of his legs are on either side of your lap, hips gyrating. He takes one of your hands and guides it down his lean frame all the way to his crotch where he keeps it while he grinds into it.

You feel a heat starting to pool in your stomach. Swallowing, you try to keep your face neutral as he moves more into your lap, thrusting into the air.

Those are the longest two minutes of your life. He steps back, breathing heavy. “Was that okay?”

You gulp a bit and nod, “Uh..yeah..yeah more than okay. Should be hired immediately.”

He grins triumphantly, having worked up a bit of sweat. “You think so?”

Again you nod, “Yeah.”

Anakin looks at you for a second, noticing something is off. “What is it?”

“Hm?” You look at him and then shake your head, “Nothing.”

He gives you an ‘I don’t believe you’ look. “I can tell when you’re lying. What is it?”

Your cheeks flush and you try to shift subtly in your seat. It’s enough to answer him though.

“Ohhhh.” He draws it out making the blush of your face darken immediately. He’d be lying himself if he denied getting a semi at that. “Don’t worry. I take it as a compliment. I could always help you out.”

Your eyebrows furrow. Did you hear him right? “Huh?”

He shrugs, “Consider it returning the favor. A friend helping another friend.”

That’s how you wind up on his couch with him knuckles deep in your cunt, thick digits prodding at your g-spot with his mouth latched onto your clit. You card your fingers through his curls and tug on them, earning a groan which vibrates through your clit. You moan at the extra stimulation.

Anakin lets go of your clit, “Yeah? Feel good pretty girl?”

“Mhm..so so good.” You mewl.

He grins and then finds your clit once more, flicking his tongue against the bundle of nerves before suckling with a new found fervor as your noises spur him on even more along with the wet squelches.

“Right there Ani..fuck..” You force his face further into your pussy, grinding against him, your grip in his hair tightening. You cum all over his skilled fingers.

He continues to work you through your orgasm before he pulls back, his chin glistening with your juices. He smiles down at you. “You okay?”

You nod your head, breathless and meeting his eyes with a blissed out expression. “Yeah..yeah ‘m fine.”

“Good,” He moves to start undoing the buckle of his belt, “Cause I’m not done with you yet.”

#anakin imagine #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker request #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #rain works ˚₊‧꒰ა 🌧️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#thanks for the request!

165 notes · View notes

honeyhotteoks · 10 months

Text

this night together - chapter twelve (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter twelve: home is always home

chapter summary: you were planning to tell them how you felt on saturday, but when things go sideways at the studio you find yourself running home as fast as you can.

warnings: this is the chapter i've been warning about for a long, long time. please read responsibly if you're easily triggered by any of the following topics - guy who can't take no for an answer, aggressive/sexist language, physical and verbal assault, panic/ptsd, physical injury/blood, hospitals, police interaction (mentioned), nightmares/night terrors, self harm (sort of?)

notes: please note, if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when i'm posting, i've put up three chapters at once. make sure you don't skip chapter ten and eleven! additional notes under the cut~!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 11.6k

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

for my readers who aren't that familiar with a/b/o, i'm introducing something in this chapter that you may not have seen before. i wanted to add some context! if you're new to a/b/o, there is something that alphas have often called "alpha tone", "alpha voice", or just "tone". alphas in many depictions have the ability to lower their voice in a particular way that is seen as a strict command to an omega, and it triggers/activates their submission. this is something that can be used negatively or positively, but in this scene will be negative. there's also something called headspace/subspace that you will see referenced, and an omega can be put into headspace/subspace via alpha tone. it is a bit of a dissociative state where the omega can only really hear and understand commands. this can be used negatively or positively as well, but again, definitely not good in this scene. i hope that helps.... and happy/responsible reading!!

You really, really wish today was Saturday and not Thursday. Thursday just means you still have to get through Friday and then all of Saturday morning before your scheduled dinner with Yunho and Mingi and all the things you want to say are practically eating you up inside. But there’s a right way and a wrong way to tell someone you’ve been an idiot and you’re in love with them, and blurting it out in the middle of dance practice isn’t really going to help make this easier.

God, you hope they still want you.

On the plus side, this week has been insane. With the full crew back things are moving at a million miles per hour, and you’ve been in more meetings about what’s coming up next in the past week than the entire time you’ve worked for BB Trippin and KQ.

Your schedule for the next six months is frankly intense. Between preparing for year-end stages and working on the choreography for the newly debuting girl group, you’re juggling conversations about New World’s next comeback and the next round of touring. With the money coming in now there’s an opportunity to take more dancers, and that just means more late nights and early mornings getting everything right.

It’s after your third concept planning meeting of the week that you find two minutes to talk to Wooyoung, his bag already slung over his shoulder as he refills his water bottle.

“So, you’re going?” You ask him vaguely, trying not to tip off anyone else in the vicinity that he’s got a date.

“Yeah,” He nods, eyes flicking over your shoulder to see if San and Seonghwa are nearby, “I think I’m going to throw up,”

“No, you’re not,” You assure him.

“I might,” He whines, running a hand through his mop of long black hair, “I never know what to say to him,”

“Woo,”

“I know what to say to everyone, y/n,” He lowers his voice, panic evident in his eyes, “but every time Sangie smiles I go fucking blank,”

“Sangie?” Your eyebrow quirks, “Is that what we’re calling him now,”

“Shut up,” Wooyoung blushes.

“Wow,” You prod him softly, “you’re down so bad, it’s been like three days,”

“It’s so bad,” He grimaces, “this is embarrassing,”

“Now you see how I feel,” You smirk, “it’s kind of fun being on this end of things,”

“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “are you telling me you’re not panicking?”

“Oh, no,” You laugh, “I definitely am. It’s just nice to know I’m not alone here,”

“I was never this mean to you,”

You hold his gaze, just blinking, there’s nothing to say to that he doesn’t already know.

“Okay, fine,” He sighs, “but still, feeling like this,”

“Feeling like what?” Seonghwa’s voice shocks you both out of your quiet conversation and you both jump back from each other.

“Jesus,” You breathe, “you scared me,”

Seonghwa smiles, “Sorry,” he shrugs, “everything okay?”

“Perfect,” Wooyoung takes a step back and shakes his head, “totally good,”

Seonghwa’s brows come together in the middle, “You seem like something’s wrong, can I help?”

Wooyoung almost blanches, and you know he’s dreading telling San and Seonghwa about Yeosang, so you jump in to help. “Woo was just helping me figure out Saturday,” You cover and draw Seonghwa’s attention back to you, “you know, figuring out what to say to them,”

“Oh,” Seonghwa nods, but you can see that he doesn’t really buy it, “right,”

“Anyways,” Wooyoung starts walking backwards towards the exterior door, “I have to go, but you know, y/n, call me if you need to talk more later,”

“I will,” You nod, “I definitely will.”

Wooyoung knows that what you mean is that you want detailed date updates, and he almost looks mortified at the idea. He disappears fast, leaving you and Seonghwa relatively alone in the hallway.

“What is up with him this week?” Seonghwa asks, confusion on his face.

“He has a date,” You tell him quietly, “he’s kind of freaking out about it.”

“Oh,” Seonghwa glances towards the door where Wooyoung just disappeared, “that’s not that weird for him,”

“It is if he’s this interested after only a few days,” You say, “but don’t tease him. He’s kind of worked up about the whole thing,”

“Who’s he seeing?” Seonghwa asks.

“He should tell you that,” You beg off the gossip immediately, “just do me a favor and give him a little space to talk to you and San about it,”

“Okay,” He draws out the word, not sure exactly where you’re going.

“He’s nervous about upsetting the delicate balance,” You gesture towards him, referring to the carefully constructed relationship that is Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa.

“He’s seeing another alpha?” Seonghwa jumps to that conclusion with ease, and you can see how he would get there.

You’re shaking your head before you can stop yourself, “It’s not that,”

That does surprise him, and Seonghwa’s eyes widen a bit, “Oh,”

“Right,” You nod, leading him to the conclusion as close as you can without spelling it out, “my point is, he’s nervous and he’s got a pretty serious crush, and he hasn’t said so but I think he’s scared you and San won’t approve.”

“I would never,” He stumbles over his words, “out of anyone, we would never judge him, he has to know that,”

“Hey,” You reach for Seonghwa, stepping a little closer so your voices stay low in the entryway as you brush your hand down his forearm, “he knows, he’s just panicking a little.”

“Should I talk to him?” Seonghwa asks, his eyes earnest.

“Not yet,” You shake your head, “he’ll figure it out, just don’t push him right now. I’ve never seen him this anxious,”

“I won’t,” He promises, “thank you for telling me,”

“Mhm,”

Seonghwa chews over your words a second and then decides to let it drop. With a sigh he refocuses on work, “Are you staying late?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, “I have some things to catch up on. You?”

“I need to track down San,” He says, “but then after that I’m probably heading out a little early,”

“Nice,” You nod, “still shaking off the jetlag?”

He nods, “Unfortunately,”

Down the hall you watch a few of the dancers gathering up their belongings, and then the door to the back office opens to reveal Yunho and Mingi, sitting close together and studying a computer screen as Jaemin leaves for the day.

“Well,” Your feet are already moving, “then I’ll see you later,”

“Sounds good,” He says, and then he gives you a knowing look, seeing exactly where you’re headed.

Before you know it, you’re moving through the people in the hall and trying desperately to come up with a reason for crashing their tete-a-tete.

“Hey,” You knock softly on the open door, “am I interrupting?”

“No, no,” Yunho smiles when he sees you and your stomach bubbles.

“We’re just watching back practice,” Mingi leans back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Oh, nice,” You say, and your empty words do little to fill the empty space.

“Do you… need something?” Yunho tries.

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” You scramble internally for something to say, “I’m staying late, but I’m kind of starving, I just didn’t know if you still had stuff stashed?”

“Sure,” He gestures towards the cabinets on the side wall, “whatever you want, help yourself,”

“Great,” You dash towards the cabinets, and you can’t even imagine eating right now with how fluttery your insides have been, but you snag a couple of protein bars anyways.

The silence is brutal. Not like before, not like the tense and uncomfortable angry silences of the past, but it’s still sitting there between you. Part of you wants to shut the door right now and just get it all out there, but again, you know you shouldn’t.

Mingi’s warm, chocolatey scent is richer in here, evident after a hard practice of working up a sweat and being given a chance to permeate with the door closed. You feel your body naturally relaxing at it, so comforting and familiar, and then you get the first pang of Yunho’s warm, summer rain.

You can hardly believe how you convinced yourself that this wasn’t scent sympathy when right here and now it’s so obvious they belong to you. You wonder if they feel it too.

“Are you okay?” Mingi’s voice snaps you out of your sudden daydream staring at the cabinet full of snacks.

“Yeah, yes,” You shut them and step back, “I’m fine, just a little tired.”

“Not sleeping well?” Yunho says, concern all over his features.

“I’m fine,” You wave him off, “just a busy week,”

“You don’t have to stay late,” Mingi offers, “I’m sure whatever you’re working on will still be fine tomorrow,”

“I know,” You nod, “but if I don’t get it out of my system I’ll just be thinking about it all night, you know how it is,”

Mingi nods, “Still, take it easy later,”

“I will,” You promise, and you start to turn towards the door when the words just bubble up out of your throat, “you’re both still free Saturday, right?”

“Yeah,” Mingi answers for them both, “are you?”

“Definitely,” You nod, “I just wanted to make sure, I’m looking forward to it,”

“We could do tomorrow instead,” Yunho offers, “after practice?”

“As long as you don’t have other plans,” Mingi cuts in, “for a Friday night,”

“Tomorrow works,” You jump at the chance, “I’d actually love that, I just didn’t want to crowd you when you’re adjusting to the timezone again,”

“It’s fine,” Mingi brushes that thought off, “I’d rather see you,”

“Yeah,” Yunho nods, “it’ll be good to catch up,”

You smile, “I want to hear all about the trip,”

“The trip,” Mingi says, just repeating your words like he’s weighing them out on his own tongue.

Something about his voice sends a sharp zing up the back of your spine.

Your body feels a little soft, relaxing bit by bit.

Yunho’s eyes flick over you, “Are you sure you need to stay late?”

Something your primal little brain cannot handle right now is the thought of your alphas being protective, not when you’re standing in this room encased by their scents that feel a little too right. Your stomach tightens and you pray that you’re not blushing pink at the flickering thought in your mind of them taking you home.

You need to get out of this room before they realize it.

“I’m good,” You tell him, stepping backwards towards the door, “but thank you, and dinner tomorrow is perfect,”

Mingi says something, you think he’s agreeing, but you’re giving another excuse over your shoulder about how you need to get back to it so you can make it out of this room.

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as you leave the office and make it down the hall, heading for the studio room you’ve booked for the afternoon. You nearly run into Dahan and Minseok as you cut around the corner, but you apologize quickly and barely give them a second glance as you hide yourself away in one of the dance studios alone.

With the door firmly shut you lean back against the closed door and take a deep breath. These feelings are going to work you into a frenzy if you don’t get them under control. Scent sympathy is rare, an almost perfect match between an alpha and omega that makes every part of a relationship heightened, especially once that initial sympathetic bond is fulfilled with a claim. While they were gone you came to that conclusion slowly, the steady ache in your chest so clearly informed by the lack of them, but now that they’re back and here the realization of it collides into you full-force.

You love them, that’s true. But what’s more is how much you need them, and how much you hope they need you. You can’t let them realize it before you have the chance to say everything you need to say, and if you had stayed in that room a few minutes more they might have felt themselves. With the dinner moved to Friday you just have one more night to get through. One more night, and one more day of work. And then the chips will fall where they may.

With a deep breath you let the hammering of your heart slow and then you focus back on the work ahead. The more you pour yourself into work the faster these 24 hours will go, so you put your head down and get to it.

You work for a long time, probably too long, until your muscles are positively aching and any thoughts of Yunho and Mingi are drowned out by lyrics to the chorus of this song that just keeps looping in your mind as you try different patterns of footwork. Here in this bubble you don’t know who’s still at work, who’s left for the day, what time it is, or if the sun has set yet. You just know your own body and every which way that it moves to this one singular song.

Your hair is hot around your face, sweat clinging to your brow as you finish out the latter half of the choreography that you’re confident with. It’s fast, and includes so much up and down floor work you’re pretty sure you’d be passing out if you weren’t hydrating properly. Focused on your reflection in the mirror you gather your hair up and away and into a knot and then move to find your towel and water bottle.

The door to the studio opens behind you, and you glance back without really seeing who’s popping in, “Hey,”

For a split second it occurs to you that it might be Yunho or Mingi and your stomach flips as you start to turn.

“Hey, y/n,” Minseok’s voice is a bit of a surprise.

“Oh, hey,”

He looks like he’s just stopping by to grab something from the far desk in the corner. You’re honestly surprised that he’s still here, he had looked on his way out earlier when you bumped into him in the hall.

“Are you heading out for the night?” You take a drink of water and catch your breath, leaning against the mirrored wall behind you.

“Soon,” He nods, running a hand through his dark hair and snagging a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the office chair.

“Well,” You smile, “have a good night,”

“You too,” He says as he walks past you, but then his steps slow and you hear him sigh before he turns on his heel, “listen, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,”

“I hope you don’t think this is weird,” He takes a few more steps back towards you, “but I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something for a while now,”

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise, and suddenly you can see everything in his expression. You know this look. You know the way men get when they finally rip off the bandage and change the equilibrium of a room, the moment they decide they can’t see you as just a friend. What absolutely terrible timing he has.

“I was thinking,” He says, a little pause before the rest and you hope you’re keeping your face nice and neutral, “do you think I could take you out some time?”

“Out?” The word leaves you.

He smiles, “Yeah, out, like a date.”

“I appreciate that,” You shake your head a little, trying to smile and keep things light, “but I don’t think so,”

His lip quirks and his nose scrunches and you suppose that if you were interested you might find this part of him charming, but you’re not, so it isn’t. “Are you seeing someone?” He asks.

“No,” You tell him honestly, “not right now.”

“So, I can’t get you to give me one chance?” He takes a step forwards, gesturing between you both and keeping his gaze hopeful.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” You shake your head, “we work together.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” He assures you, brushing past the boundary you tried to set with casual indifference, “don’t worry about that.”

“Still,” You shake your head, “but thank you for asking.”

You’re not at all thankful for him asking, but he’s nice enough, and it feels like the polite way to keep the status quo.

“That’s a shame,” He admits, his smile dropping almost entirely, “are you sure I can’t convince you to give me just one chance? I really do like you, y/n,”

“I’m sure,” That should be firm enough.

“I thought we were getting along well,” He cuts off the end of your words, “becoming friends.”

“I thought so too,” You straighten up off the wall behind you, tossing your towel over your shoulder and setting up to walk right out of the studio room if that’s what it would take to end this interaction, “I thought we were friends,”

You can’t help but emphasize the word friends, and you watch the moment his expression drops more, annoyance flicking through his jaw.

“I didn’t think you had such a problem seeing people you worked with,” He says pointedly.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just that,” He shrugs, nodding towards you, “I didn’t think it bothered you. Considering.”

“Listen,” You lock eyes with him, “let it go. I’m trying to be nice about this, but I can be clearer. I am not interested in going out with you.”

“You don’t have to be rude,”

“Goodnight, Minseok,” You’re not staying for this.

“I’m a good guy,” He says as you start towards the door, “don’t, come on just stay a second,”

You keep walking.

“y/n,” He says, his voice startlingly close behind you, “stay.”

It’s like your legs stop working, an echoing strike of nerves down your spine and you stumble slightly as his hand closes around your wrist.

“Let go of me.” You start to turn towards him, pulling your arm back as you do, but he speaks again.

“Stop.” His voice is so low suddenly, situated smack in the center of his chest, a tenor you’ve never heard from him before. Your legs stop working all together, suddenly feeling like lead.

“Take your hands off me.” You blink hard, your head feeling a little full suddenly.

“I just don’t understand,” He bites, “we’ve been flirting for weeks.”

You can’t find the words to tell him that you being nice isn't flirting, but you’re stunned into silence. You can barely even think of a time when you had a sustained conversation with him where someone else wasn’t present. How could interactions that felt so routine to you feel so significant for him?

“And you’re just… not interested?” He scoffs, “You’re what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? You’re going to start running out of good offers.”

So many things about Seo Minseok fall into place with just those words. The way that just a few weeks ago he barely looked at you, barely spoke to you. Always spending his attention on the alphas in the room around you, but never you. How when that tide shifted you thought, maybe naively, that he was just shy. But he’s not shy, not in the least. He’s just another alpha in a long line of alphas who look down their noses at omegas until there’s something they want from them.

“That’s really none of your concern,” You shake your head, “now get the fuck off me.”

“Be quiet.” His jaw sets hard.

So does yours.

A thousand thoughts run through your brain like a wildfire eating up a hillside of dry bark but nothing can make it past your lips. The tone of his voice has you rooted to the spot, his instructions not suggestions but strict commands. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard an alpha use tone, but it’s certainly the first time it’s been directed at you. You’ve heard stories, the way the primal omega brain surfaces even when you don’t want it to. You thought it was a bit of an overstatement, but now on the receiving end you can’t control your response to him and fear floods you.

“You talk a lot for an unmated omega,” He looks disappointed.

Something shrinks inside you.

His fingers tighten, his body suddenly closer, “But we can fix that.”

In a breath his hands push you backwards, your back suddenly cold against the mirrored wall of the practice room. Later, much later, you’ll discover that the reason your memory of this moment is patchy is a combination of your omega’s response to alpha tone and full dissociation. You’ll remember little pieces, quick sensations here and there. The same song still looping through the stereo, the sound of his deep inhale with his face pressed against your throat, the sharp pin pricks of his teeth as he seeks out the soft juncture of your neck and shoulder. The way your mind in one heaving breath both screams in rebellion and folds open in acceptance when he successfully locates your gland.

You suddenly can’t hear right, can’t think right. All you know is his teeth. The hot feeling of breath. He smells like burnt, bitter oranges. He’s talking again, saying something that your conscious mind can’t register, but your omega does, and you stretch your neck long to give him the access he needs.

And then you’re under.

You’re dropping before you consciously register your brain entering a new, hazy middle space. It feels like being at the bottom of a deep pool, the sudden, immersive quiet. You understand that someone is talking to you, or around you, but all you can hear is the echoing tenor of an alpha, the words unclear, all cocooned in the water around you.

There’s a bang somewhere but it feels far away, and you feel pin pricks against your throat.

Minseok’s overwhelming acrid scent and heavy pressure against you is gone, the sudden loss of his weight leaving you off balance. You think you’re falling, or maybe you’ve already fallen. The world feels tilted, something hard and cold under your back. You smell something sharp and tangy, and there’s something loud in the room but you can’t understand it. Everything is white, bright and intrusive.

Mingi’s face swims into your vision, and you feel his hands on your cheeks. It takes you a minute to understand anything, but he looks upset, stricken and his cheeks are tinged pink with panicked anger. You want to reach up, soothe his brow and see what’s wrong, but you can’t lift your hand. Don’t move an inch.

“Jesus,” Mingi glances to his side, “he put her in subspace,”

Someone responds, but it’s muffled to your ears.

Mingi’s face darkens entirely, his hands leave you, “I’ll fucking kill him,”

He’s gone. There’s a scuffle to your side, but you can’t turn your head, you want to, you just can’t. Tears bubble in your eyes, emotion pulsing through you and your breath is tight and thready in your throat. A sharp, whining sob bubbles from your lips.

Warm rain swims through you, and Yunho’s there, sliding right into the spot Mingi left. His eyes dart over your face and then he looks to his side, his voice firm, “Calm down or get out of here, do you understand me? You’re scaring her,”

There’s a long beat, noises to your side again but you can’t understand it. Your stomach flips nervously, the place you’re stuck in your head throbbing a sharp spike through your brain.

Yunho’s warm, brown eyes settle back on yours, his face calm and easy, “Can you hear me, y/n?”

You can, but you can’t make your mouth work. Don’t move an inch.

“Can you hear me? y/n?” He asks again, his thumb brushing your cheek, “You’re safe, he’s not going to touch you again,”

The hard feeling of Minseok’s hands on your hips pushing you into the practice room mirror snaps inside you and you release a soft sound.

“You can hear me,” Yunho nods, “come on, wake up,”

“Yunho,” Mingi’s voice is close again, hard and steady, “that’s not going to work,”

“Why?” Yunho looks up to his friend, “she can hear me, she’s okay,”

“She’s in subspace,” Mingi pushes his friend to the side, coming into your eye line, “she’s dropped so far under it’s going to take more than that,”

“W-what do we do?” Yunho’s voice is shaky.

“Let me try something,” Mingi murmurs, and then his eyes lock squarely on yours.

Yunho slips his hand into yours, holding you tightly, but you can’t squeeze him back.

“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is firm, and it’s the clearest thing you’ve heard since sinking under the water, “Come up now.”

Don’t move an inch.

“You need to come up now,” His fingers tighten on your cheek, “listen to me.”

Don’t move an inch.

“Why isn’t this working?” Yunho asks, squeezing your fingers.

“I’m not sure,” Mingi’s voice is low, and then he shifts closer to your face, “y/n. Omega. Listen to me now,”

All you can do is manage to make a quiet, tight noise, and even to your muddled brain you can hear the tenor of distress.

“Come up now,” Mingi repeats, “right now. Listen to me, omega.”

You’re being torn in two, your primal brain fighting you every step of the way.

He swallows hard, his voice dropping low in his chest, “Don’t disobey your alpha,”

Suddenly nothing but his voice exists.

Mingi’s expression is cold, tight and ruthless, his rich tone cuts straight to your core, “When you’re given a directive, you follow it. Now,” He locks his hands on either side of your face and his next words are a pointed and perfectly clear command, “Come. Up.”

The room is so much louder than you thought a moment ago. There’s shouting outside and you vaguely register San’s voice amongst the mix. The music from practice is still on low. Yunho’s leg is bouncing nervously, the athletic fabric making a rhythmic swish with every bob of his knee. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears.

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, the first feeling that floods back into your body is intense shame.

“Oh my god,” Mingi’s expression crumbles and he pulls your limp body into his arms “you’re here? You’re with us?”

“M-Mingi,” Your vision clouds with tears again and every feeling that tried to course through your body while you were in subdrop crashes into you sideways.

“Shh,” He rocks you in his arms, “we’ve got you, we’re right here, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

A dull throb radiates through your skull and Yunho takes a sharp inhale, “She’s bleeding,”

“What?” Mingi pulls back, his hand searching your body.

“Here,” Yunho brushes the back of your hair, his fingers coming away with a small line of blood, “it’s not too bad,”

“What happened?” You reach for the cut at the back of your head, nervous tears coming up as you try to understand.

“You don’t remember?” Yunho asks.

“I’m,” You swallow hard, “it was practice? Or I was practicing? I had the room booked.”

“Yeah,” Yunho nods and squeezes your hand, “what else?”

The date. The hard set of Minseok’s jaw when you said no. His hands on your hips, his lips on your neck, the soft drag of his teeth and the flat of his tongue over your gland. Your shirt tearing when he hauled you up against the mirrors. Hands everywhere. Hands nowhere. The white ceiling. His voice, harsh and direct in your ears, the alpha tone unmistakable. Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch.

Your mouth is suddenly hot and watery, and your hands are shaking, “I’m… I’m going to be sick,”

“Shit,” Yunho moves fast, sliding across the floor to grab the wastebasket that sits under the desk, pushing it into your hands.

You wretch instantly, shaking and heaving, losing the contents of your stomach into the plastic bin.

“Okay,” Mingi soothes, gathering up your hair into one hand and holding it away from your face, “you’re okay,”

“He touched me,” Your hands won’t stop shaking, his voice flooding back, and you heave again, “the things he said,”

“Shh,” Yunho shifts closer, rubbing a hand up and down your back, “you’re safe. None of that is true,”

“He talked to me like a dog,” You sob, “and I couldn’t move, he told me not to move and I just let him,”

“No.” Mingi’s voice is harsh and you twitch under his hands, “He used alpha tone on you, he wanted you to stop fighting and he said it in tone until you couldn’t hear anything else. You didn’t let him do anything,”

“I’ve never,” You wretch again, a dry heave with nothing to give and it makes your eyes watery.

“We’re right here,” Yunho murmurs, “you’re safe.”

When you’re sure your stomach will hold, you push the wastebasket away and drop back to the floor, your head throbbing, “I’ve never been in subspace,”

“You’re not there now,” Mingi soothes.

“I don’t remember,” You manage, looking down at your mussed clothes, “it’s so muddled I can’t remember,”

“What can’t you remember?” Yunho asks softly.

You’re pretty sure you’d register it if his attempt at claiming had been successful, if the word attempt should even be in consideration at all, but the end is so fuzzy you just have to know. “Did he… did we?”

“No.” Yunho’s firm, sliding in front of you so he can make you look into his eyes, “absolutely not,”

Your mouth tastes terrible, but it’s the overwhelming bitter smell of him on you that doubles it and makes you want to throw up again even though your stomach is empty.

“All I can smell is him,” You scrub your hands under your eyes to wipe away tears, “I can’t even breathe,”

“Take her,” Mingi says, “I’m getting water,”

Yunho pulls you into his arms, sitting back against the mirrored wall for some support and cradling you to his chest, “Come here, is this okay?”

“Make it go away,” You hold onto his shirt and sigh into his neck, “please, Yunho, please,”

“Just breathe,” He soothes you, “I have you,”

He smooths his thumbs over the glands in your wrists, easing the initial panic inside you, and then gently draws your head back with his hand, “It’s only me,” He murmurs, “you know I’d never hurt you,”

Yunho licks a long stripe up your neck, and instantly your body starts to release, tense muscles unlocking and your fingers falling slack. His scent washes over you, enveloping you tenderly.

“Y-Yunho,” you shudder as he licks another long stripe, moving to suck softly on the fleshy part of your neck that narrowly avoided teeth marks.

“Yes?” He kisses your neck softly, and licks again.

“Thank you for coming for me,” You exhale slowly.

He stills, sinking closer and resting his closed lips on your shoulder. When he breathes in you hear the catch of emotion, “I thought we were too late,”

“I’m okay,” You murmur, and it’s starting to feel true now that he’s washing away Minseok’s scent.

“God,” He sighs into your skin, “when I heard you scream… I’ve never heard anything that terrifying in my life, I’ve never run so fast,”

“Did I scream?” You don’t remember it.

“Bloody murder,” He nods, pulling back to look at your eyes.

“Yunho,” Your eyes flick up towards the open door of the practice studio, “where is he?”

His hands tighten on you, “Probably nursing his broken ribs. The guys have him,”

Your eyes widen, and the realization that he’s still under the same roof has you trembling in his arms, “He’s still here,”

“Not for long,” He murmurs, “we called the police,”

“But,” Your mind is spinning and you feel the weight of him on your chest once more, “what if he comes back?”

“y/n,” Yunho draws your eyes away from the door, “San and Seonghwa have him, and he’s in rough shape. He’s probably focused on trying to breathe, not thinking about you anymore. And even if none of that were true and he did come back,” he says, “I’d put him on the floor faster than you could blink. Mingi and I both would.”

Your muscles start to relax again, “Okay,”

“You are completely safe,”

Mingi reappears a few moments later, bottles of water in hand, and he smiles warmly, “Hey, you,”

“Hey,”

“Feeling a little better?” He asks, settling on the hard practice room floor and passing you an open bottle.

“I don’t know,” You murmur honestly, shifting in Yunho’s arms so that you’re resting on his lap with your back against his chest. You take a long drink of water and sigh.

“Listen,” Mingi smooths a hand across your thigh, “the police are going to want to talk to you. They’ll be here within the hour and then we’ll go to the hospital.”

“Why?” You tense.

“Your head,” He nods.

“It’s stopped bleeding,” Yunho assures you, “but he’s right, you could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,”

“I didn’t realize you had a medical degree,” Mingi says, a little edge to his voice.

Hot tears well in your eyes at his tone, and you shrink back into Yunho’s arms. You know rationally he didn’t mean to scare you, he’s just worried about you, but after the day you’ve had you can’t help but shrink back in fear.

“Hey,” Yunho presses his lips to your neck, “it’s alright, Mingi didn’t mean it like that”

Mingi’s eyes blow wide, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything,”

“I know,” You tip your head to the side to offer more of your throat to Yunho’s soothing touches, “I’m just not myself,”

“It’s okay,” Yunho says again, returning to your neck and peppering kisses across your gland, and something about this should feel intimate and awkward when you haven’t talked to them yet, but all you can feel is safe.

“Really,” Mingi reaches for you, but doesn’t touch you, “I just want you to let us help, and I’m so angry with Minseok I could kill him, but I didn’t mean to put that on you,”

“Mingi,” You take his outstretched hand, “I’m okay, you just startled me, and you’re right anyways. I’ll come to the hospital,”

He sighs in relief.

“After,” Yunho murmurs, “would you - I mean, will you please come home with us tonight?”

It’s strange how much you feel like it is home, despite only spending your heat there, months ago, so long ago now you shouldn’t still feel this preternatural pull.

“I don’t know,” You say, even though your body is begging you to agree, to stay with them and only them.

“I know it’s been different between us,” He murmurs, arms tightening around you, “but you know how I feel. I just don’t want you to be alone tonight, someone should be with you,”

“Someone you feel safe with,” Mingi adds, “if that’s us,”

“It is,” You lock your hand down on Mingi’s, “I’m sorry, this is… of course you’re safe, of course you are. I’m just,”

“Let’s talk about this later,” Mingi smiles, shooting a look at Yunho you can’t quite make sense of, but brushing your fears to the side all the same, “for now, let’s just get you taken care of.”

You shudder out a breath, letting the warmth and safety of their bodies sink into you. You turn into Yunho, resting your cheek on his chest and matching your breath in time to his. Your thoughts spin, bubbling over as threads of the incident come back to your mind and you press your eyes closed before the question slips out, “Why did he do it?”

Yunho wraps his arms around you a little tighter, dropping his lips to your hair, “I don’t know,”

Mingi clears his throat, “He’s about to hit his rut,” he says, “that’s what his excuse was. He said he’s… he kept saying how sorry he was, but,”

Your eyes snap open, “Sorry? He’s sorry?”

“Sorry someone interrupted him, maybe,” Mingi’s voice is hard, his eyes firm and unrelenting, “a rut doesn’t make you do that. Not like that.”

Yunho shakes his head in agreement, “Definitely not,”

You know that, of course you know it, but after seeing Minseok’s black eyes you’re not so sure. You had never felt completely comfortable with him, but in the past you would have chalked that up to personality differences, and in the past few weeks that had all started to change. He was the kind of guy you wouldn’t date, but you wouldn’t worry about bothering you.

You sigh softly, “He didn’t seem like himself,”

“Mm,” Mingi hums, non-committal.

“A rut doesn’t make it impossible to hear the word no,” Yunho says firmly, “you don’t become some mindless animal. What he tried to do… that’s… a rut’s an easy excuse.”

You tense up in his arms, a brief flicker of what could have been. His teeth in your neck, your mind spinning into submission.

“Yunho,” Mingi shakes his head at his best friend, glancing down at you to indicate that it’s not something you can hear right now.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho soothes, holding you closer if it’s at all possible.

Your chest tightens, “Can I… I need to get up,”

His arms relax immediately, hands shifting under your elbows to help support you while Mingi jumps up and offers you his hands to pull you up. Back on your own two feet you waver a minute, but you shake off the dizzy spell and try to get your bearings again. They're waiting on a razor’s edge, hands out and ready to intervene, but you’ve made it clear that for the moment you don’t want to be touched.

A shout from the hall leaves you jumping, but you register Wooyoung’s voice a moment later, “Where is she?”

“The studio,” San’s voice replies, “slow down,”

“Is he in the back office? Give me a fucking minute alone with him,” Wooyoung’s voice is murderous and you smile at how ready your best friend sounds to do battle on your behalf, “I’ll show him what an omega can fucking do,”

“Youngie,” San’s voice is even and warm, keeping things soft, “you need to calm down,”

“Calm down,” He scoffs, his voice getting closer as he travels down the hall and you know he’s almost at the door.

“I hardly think y/n needs,” San starts to say, but then they round the corner.

Wooyoung’s eyes are wild, searching and terrified, and something inside you shatters. San’s words die on his lips when he sees you, and in a startling moment of clarity you rush forwards and into Wooyoung’s arms.

“Shh, shh,” He wraps you up tight, one hand at the back of your head as he rocks you back and forth, “you’re safe, you’re in one piece,”

“Woo,” Tears come fast, and you bury your face in his chest.

“Stupid fucking alphas,” He curses into your shoulder and you can hear his breath hitched and clouded with tears of his own, “acting like they can take whatever they want,”

You’re sure the rest of the room is bristling at that comment but you couldn’t care less.

“You want me to break the rest of his ribs?” He kisses your head, “I’ll make it look like a fucking accident, I swear to God,”

“Woo,” You laugh into his chest, vision blurry with unshed tears, “stop, that’s insane,”

“I am nothing if not a little insane,” Wooyoung squeezes you, “and you and me? We protect each other, right?”

“Always,” You grip the back of his shirt like a lifeline.

The bond between omegas can’t be understood by a single other person in the room, maybe even in the building. You cling to each other in the middle of the studio floor, encased in this moment of shared grief. Of what you are and what that means. He shifts you in his arms so he can look at your face, cupping your tear stained cheeks.

The sight of his own tears makes yours come faster, “What did I do?”

His expression hardens and he shakes his head, sucking in a harsh breath, “Nothing, not a single fucking thing. Do you hear me?”

“Woo,” You want him to let you go. You want him to tug you close again.

He shakes your shoulders hard, and in your periphery you see Mingi take a half step forward as Wooyoung pushes back on your words, “You didn’t do anything. You’re existing, and he tried to take advantage of that. This isn’t your fault, there’s nothing you could have or should have done.”

You open your mouth to say something but he plows forward.

“Alphas take, alright?” He shakes you again, more gently this time, “We’re lucky. You and me, we found good ones, but alphas are programmed to take, and we’re programmed to give. He used it against you. Nothing else.”

Your breath hitches, and you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him cradle you again.

“Shh, shh,” He rubs your back, soothing you again.

“I hate this,” You manage, your face buried in his shoulder.

“I know,” He eases you, “I fucking hate it too,”

You hold each other a little longer until both of your tears start to subside. You stay steady in his grip, his fresh salt and cotton scent lulling you into safety. The buzzing of your brain starts to release, and the fear is still there under your skin but at least for now it’s low and letting you breathe.

Nuzzling into his shoulder you sigh, “What are you doing back here anyways?”

“San called,” He kisses your hair, “I broke several laws getting here,”

You laugh against his collarbone where his oversized t-shirt is pulled down, no doubt from the way your hands grip whatever part of him you can.

He rubs a warm hand up and down your back and when he speaks again it’s not to you, this time he addresses the alphas in the room. He clears his throat softly, head lifting up and away from yours, “So, who busted his nose?”

“Uh,” Yunho makes a small sound behind you, “that would be me,”

“Good,” Wooyoung says, “when she stops crying I’m giving you a handshake,”

You smile against his damp skin and shake your head, “I’m not crying, I’m fine,”

“Sure,” Wooyoung murmurs, but he doesn’t let you go, just strokes your back more until you settle further into him.

“The police will be here soon,” San murmurs, his voice staying relaxed and steady to make sure everything stays level in the room.

“Right,” Wooyoung sighs, “y/n, can I let you go? I don't have to if you’re not ready,”

You nod immediately though, unwinding your arms from him and taking a ginger step back. He gives you a soft smile, and you scrub the last of the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. He gives you a minute to stand steady and then turns to Yunho and Mingi who both look frozen and unsure of what to do or what to say.

“You both got him off her?” He says, matter of fact.

“Yeah,” Mingi’s voice is tight, like he had been choking back tears of his own, and Yunho simply nods.

“Thank you,” Wooyoung tugs Mingi into a hug and squeezes him tight before shifting to Yunho to hug him too, “seriously,”

Once they break apart, you’re left all in a haphazard circle, and you can feel all the eyes on you. It makes you so tired, dizzy, ready to be done and just crawl under a blanket for the rest of the week. In the back of your throat you still taste bitter orange.

“Um,” Your voice comes out a little more scratchy than you want, and you clear your throat, letting everything fade.

“What is it?” Yunho asks gently.

You don’t know how to ask this, how to beg them to keep holding you together so you can just get through existing in this room. You sigh, the deep exhale making you dizzy again, and step towards him, “C-can I,”

He opens his arms immediately, letting you close the space so he doesn’t assume your needs, but as you collide with him again he responds perfectly, scooping you up into his arms and letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He supports you with ease, an arm under your thighs and another situated high on your back.

“Better?” He murmurs, smiling a little as you bury your head in his neck.

You nod into his neck, and then you allow yourself one tiny moment of weakness, listening to your body and what it needs for once over your anxiety. You mumble it into his neck, but he hears you when you say, “Yunho?”

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is so soft, quiet like he’s afraid of what you might say.

You don’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyebrows go high at the endearment, but you ignore him and focus instead on the man holding you up, together, in one solid piece. You lift your head so he hears you clearly, “Will you please take me home?”

He goes still and turns his head just a little, “Your apartment or,”

“Take me home with you,” You repeat, “I want to go home,”

This will surely just make everything more muddled and foggy between the three of you tomorrow in the cold light of day, but you don’t care. Right now you just want to be home, in whatever form that means.

He exhales low and shaky, “Alright,” he murmurs, kissing your throat softly to help calm your trembling, “I’ve got you, let’s go home,”

A warm wide palm rests on the center of your back, and Mingi leans in close to catch your eyes, “y/n, can you look at me a second?”

You pull your head up from the crook of Yunho’s neck where you’ve just been taking deep steady inhales of wet earth and meet his eyes.

“Hey,” He smiles.

Your eyes dart between him and Wooyoung, who seems suddenly ancy. “What?” You straighten up a little more in Yunho’s arms.

“You can go wherever you want,” He starts off, “but do you want us to take you home, or would you feel more comfortable with Wooyoung? Or… Seonghwa, if… if that would be better for how you’re feeling,”

Yunho tenses a little, his fingers tightening where he holds you, and you can feel him physically holding himself back from saying a single word, from begging you to come with them.

You’ve made up your mind though, and within a second you’re shaking your head, “No, I want you,”

Yunho relaxes, his lips returning to your throat and you sigh.

“Then you have us,” Mingi assures you.

The sound of the elevators in the hall stop you all cold though, and San holds up his hands, “I’ll go see, it’s probably the police,”

The idea of talking to them suddenly makes you sick, and you’re sure it shows all over your face.

“It’s going to be fine,” Wooyoung jumps back in, “don’t worry, we’ll be there the whole time.”

You need this to be done. You grip down on Yunho’s shoulders, “I want to go home,”

“I know,” Mingi nods.

“Y-Yunho,” You’re scrambling a little in his arms, sudden panic swirling in your gut, and you twist to find his eyes, “please, get me out of here, please take me home,”

You feel it the minute he chooses you over anything else, “Okay, alright,”

“You need to talk to the cops,” Wooyoung shakes his head, trying to reason with you.

You’re trembling in Yunho’s arms and he shakes his head, “She needs to go,”

Mingi senses your heightened emotions too and you feel it when he moves closer, both of them shifting to protect you, “She can do this later,”

“I don’t know that that’s such a good idea,” Wooyoung insists.

“I couldn’t give a fuck,” Yunho grips you tighter, “we’re taking our girl home,”

“Your-” Wooyoung scoffs when he hears the words, “fucking alphas,”

“Who she wants to take her home,” Mingi points out, a distinct edge to his voice.

“Stop arguing,” You beg them, hanging onto Yunho’s shoulders, “please, please,”

“Fuck,” Yunho relaxes, stroking your back, “I’m sorry, of course we won’t, I’m sorry,”

Mingi brushes his hand over the back of your head and Wooyoung gives you an apologetic face, his defensiveness over you is understandable, but he also knows how you feel about these men and you watch him choose to hold his tongue.

A knock on the door brings you all back to the present, San handling the situation with more grace than any of you combined, “The police said that they can speak with you at the hospital and make it brief.”

You exhale heavily and nod against Yunho, “Okay, fine,”

“Are you sure?” Mingi strokes your cheek.

“I just want to be done,”

“Should we stay with you?” Yunho murmurs.

“Please,” You grip his shoulders.

“Alright,” He sighs, “Woo, could you… I’m sorry, can you grab her things? Let’s just try to make this quick for her,”

Wooyoung clears his throat, his eyes never leaving yours, “Yeah, I got it,”

“Uh,” San interrupts as you all try to gather your things, “Yunho, they want to talk to you first, they’re waiting in the back office,”

“Oh,”

“They have some questions,” San explains quietly, “but she she doesn’t need to be there for that,”

“Right,” Yunho nods and then presses a kiss to your hair, “can I put you down, sweetheart?”

Your chest warms.

“No, here,” Mingi cuts in, his hand sweeping over your back and you feel them shift you from Yunho’s arms to his, “come here,”

He settles you against his chest and you wrap around him just the same, soaking in the warm scent of cocoa and cinnamon. You let your eyes drift shut as you rest on his shoulder, “Hey, Mingi,”

“Hey,” He says softly.

“Thank you,” You sigh.

“Mhm,” He rocks you a little as he takes your bags from Wooyoung and slings them over his shoulder, the combined weight of it and you not fazing him at all, “I told you once I’ll always be here, I meant it,”

“I believe you,” You murmur into his throat.

You rest here, Mingi’s thumb rubbing a comforting line over the back of your neck.

“Time to go,” Wooyoung’s voice pipes back in, “there’s a car ready, Yunho will be there in a a few minutes,”

“Alright,” Mingi presses a soft kiss to your hair, “here we go,”

He carries you with ease, and you sink into the steady thump of his heart under your palm that’s keeping you grounded. Over his shoulder you watch Wooyoung walking with you and you see police officers down the hall. The door to the back office swings open and Yunho is leaning against the desk as he speaks with an officer. Seonghwa sits in a chair next to him, his head in his hands, blood coating his knuckles and the sleeves of his shirt. Something pulls in your gut, begging you to go to him, but then you’re outside and all you can feel is Mingi holding you as he ferries you into the car.

“Do you need anything?” He asks as he settles you into the passenger seat

“I don’t know,” You tell him honestly, letting your head drop back against the seat and taking a deep breath, eyes slipping closed.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Wooyoung jumps forward, “keep your eyes open,”

“I’m fine,” You tell him, but you still do what he asks.

“Just in case,” Wooyoung presses, “you shouldn’t fuck with head injuries,”

“He’s right,” Mingi murmurs, crouching next to you just outside the car, “and I’m sure you’re fine, but let’s just be sure, okay?”

“Okay,”

A noise just past the two of them makes you jump.

“It’s just Sannie,” Wooyoung assures you.

You nod and Mingi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together.

“Yunho’s almost done,” San announces, but he hurries to the car and leans in to check you, “doing okay?”

“Yeah,”

“Can you do something for me?” He cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his.

“Mhm,” You nod again.

“I need you to just focus on us for a minute,” He moves to crouch next to Mingi, and then Wooyoung steps closer too, blocking out some of your peripheral vision.

“Why?” You fight the urge to turn around.

Red and blue lights flash in the car mirrors and you reflexively glance up at the rear view mirror, catching sight of an ambulance, and tension fills your stomach.

San reaches up and catches your face again, “Hey, look at me,”

You pull your eyes away, “Are they here for him?”

“Yes,” San nods.

“Is he badly hurt?” Your mouth feels dry.

There’s a pause and then Wooyoung sighs, “Don’t lie to her,”

Mingi clears his throat softly, “He’s pretty busted up,”

“Good,” You breathe.

San smiles, taking your other hand in his and smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. The sound of the doors catches your attention again, and you resist the urge to turn around once again. San shakes his head a little, “Just keep looking at us,”

“He really picked the wrong person to fuck with,” Wooyoung says, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder.

An image of Seonghwa and his bloody knuckles flashes through your mind and your breath quickens, “Is Hwa okay?”

Mingi’s brows draw together.

“He’s fine,” San assures you immediately.

“I saw blood,” You can’t articulate it exactly, the image is just static in your mind.

“It’s not his blood,” San promises, “we’re all fine, Seonghwa is fine,”

The sound of the ambulance doors swinging shut makes you jump.

“Shh,” Mingi squeezes your hand, “you’re safe, you’re with me,”

Everything in your body feels tense and stretched thin, but Mingi’s hand is solid in yours and you grip down on it, letting it tether you.

You listen as the ambulance pulls away, your muscles unclenching one by one as the sound of the vehicle fades.

“Woo,” You manage, “can you check on Hwa for me? And text me?”

“Yeah,” He assures you, “I got you,”

“Take a deep breath,” Mingi instructs you, “please, for me,”

You take a long inhale and meet his eyes and he nods as you let the breath out low and slow through your nose.

“Again, please,” He nods.

You breathe again, the same steady pace, “I’m tired,”

“It’s the adrenaline wearing off,” Mingi tells you, “but as soon as a doctor says you can sleep, you can rest,”

“Okay,” You nod.

San’s hand disconnects from yours and he starts to stand, “Yunho’s done,”

You twist in your seat to see him, Wooyoung stepping out of the way, and you can see Yunho jogging towards the car, “Everything okay?”

“Mhm,” Mingi keeps himself calm for you.

“That took forever,” He says, “I’m sorry,”

“It didn’t,” You shake your head, “don’t be sorry,”

“You should go,” Wooyoung interrupts, “get her looked at,”

You find your best friend’s eyes, “You’ll text me?”

“Of course I will,” He nods, “but right now just focus on yourself. We’re all okay,”

You nod, and your eyes feel heavy again already. You know they’ll be trying to keep you awake in the car at this rate.

“Let’s go,” Mingi nods, “can I have my hand back for a minute?” He smiles at you.

“Sorry,” You drop his hand, almost embarrassed at the way you’re clinging to him.

“Go,” San ushers Yunho towards the driver’s side, “if you need anything, we’re here,”

Before you know it everyone’s moving and your car door is shut. Yunho slides into the driver’s seat to your left and Mingi moves into the backseat behind you.

You meet Wooyoung’s eyes through the window and he rests a hand over his chest. He mouths a simple message - I love you, okay?

You nod and the car starts to move, but you know he knows you love him too.

Mingi shifts forwards in his seat as Yunho starts to drive, and his long arm reaches around to find your hand again. He laces your fingers together once and this time he doesn’t let go.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Later that night, the warm, rich scent of their apartment almost takes you out at the knees when you finally cross the threshold, so overwhelmingly comforting and enveloping that you want nothing more than to bury yourself inside the feeling for days. Mingi nearly runs into your back when you stop short in the entryway and Yunho’s watching you carefully as he hangs up your jackets.

“What?” Mingi nudges you gently.

There’s a million things to say. Things left unsaid after your last conversation, that fight you wish you could forget. The letter. All the things you were planning on confessing Saturday. The way you want so badly to erase today and just be with them. Every ounce of their soothing physicality after Minseok brings all your emotions up tenfold. Their tenderness almost chokes you. All the things you want to say are stuck in your throat. You need to get your head on straight. You need sleep.

“Hey,” Yunho waves a hand in front of your dazed expression, “are you alright?”

Not really. The hospital was long and awkward, seeing a glimpse of Minseok’s name on a hospital room door even worse, and the police had so many questions that all sounded fairly judgemental. Not to mention the probing questions from the hospital staff about your cycle and if you’re close to pre-heat. As if that matters at all. You settle for something a little less dire though, “I’m fine, sorry, it’s just been a while,”

Yunho’s ears darken to a deep shade of pink and he nods.

“You can sleep in my room,” Mingi offers, “like before. We can stay or not stay, it’s up to you.”

“I’d like to be alone,” You tell them, “if that’s alright,”

“Of course,” Mingi smooths a hand down your arm, “whatever you want.”

“Um,” You sigh heavily, “honestly I’m exhausted. I think I might just shower and sleep as long as you don’t mind,”

Yunho shakes his head, gesturing towards the hall, “Not at all, just… call if you need anything,”

You start back towards the bathroom, your eyes down and away from them, but Mingi calls out, “You remember where everything is?”

There’s no way you could forget, and you call back that you’re fine. You got it. You just need to be alone, alone is good, alone feels safe.

In the shower you scrub your skin raw, spending extra time and attention on your glands even though it makes your skin there puffy and red, pinpricks of blood at the surface of your skin and lilac bruises surrounding every edge. It doesn’t matter how comforting their scents are, nothing is taking away the deep intent of Minseok’s mouth on your neck - and the bitter, burnt citrus smell takes ages to wash away. By the time you finish, you’re about ready to collapse.

Mingi leaves you clothes again, folded neatly on his bed and ready for you. They’re nowhere to be seen, taking your plea for time alone seriously. He’s laid out a clean pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, both fresh from the wash. The hoodie you had stolen during your heat lies next to it, and it’s a kind gesture, but suddenly you don’t want it. You want nothing.

You toss the hoodie to the side and start to climb into the bed, but that smells so heavily of cinnamon spice that you can’t think straight. You had just gotten used to blissfully smelling nothing after your shower, and so you strip the bed entirely, discarding all of the pillows and blankets and sheets into the farthest corner of the room.

The mattress is bare now, but once you turn the circulating fan off you fix the issue of the cold and his scent washing over you every time you try to close your eyes. You can still sense him, sense them, somewhere in the background, but here on the stripped bed in sterilized clothes with your skin rubbed raw, you can rest.

You drift into sleep this way, your head clear.

It doesn’t stay that way for long.

You’re not sure how long you’re asleep before you wake in abject terror, but it must be at least a couple of hours with the sky outside pitch dark and the apartment completely quiet around you. It’s obvious you’re the only one awake, but your brain can’t quite process it right. All you feel is shaking fear and the echo of hands pressing you into the wall, fingers in your hair yanking your head to the side, teeth grazing against your throat.

You scramble back, only to find the edge of the bed and you collapse off of it, ending up on the wood floor with your head spinning, Mingi’s bedside table lamp crashing down after you, a harsh flash of light pulsing through the room as the bulb breaks and gives one final dying flicker.

The pleading whine that’s caught in your throat sounds like a trapped animal to your ears, the pounding of your heart threatening to break your chest, blood rushing through your ears like a train. You can’t grasp reality, everything feels hazy and disconnected.

The door to your right bangs open, Yunho bleary and confused, but responding to your heightened state of fear within a moment. “Mingi!” He calls over his shoulder, “Mingi, get up right now,”

There’s a faraway faint noise from the other room.

Yunho skids to your side, careful not to touch you as he tries to meet your eyes in the dark, “Sweetheart, it’s just a nightmare.”

Part of you knows that you’re awake, safe and home, and not trapped in subspace with a threatening hand in your hair, but you can’t quite grip back to reality. You stutter out a reply, “I-I can’t breathe,”

“Mingi,” Yunho calls back over his shoulder again, “right now!”

“Please,” you whimper, part of your brain still lodged in the nightmare, “I can’t breathe,” Your hands cling onto the edge of the rug.

Mingi stumbles into the room now, half asleep but forced into consciousness and he’s shaking himself, catching up quickly, “What’s going on?”

You hear him, but your body is stuck remembering and you feel like there’s a weight on your chest, pressing you down harder, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,” you stutter.

“Sweetheart,” Yunho comes closer now, his body curling around you carefully with his face directly at your side, “it’s a nightmare, you’re safe.” His arms loop around you gently, but stay open in case you need to move.

“I can’t,” you shake your head, images swimming before you.

“You’re not there,” he tells you, “we’re home, you’re with us, me and Mingi,”

You wheeze, trying to regulate your breath.

“Get a light,” Yunho pleads suddenly to the dark room, and you can hear scrambling, “she can’t see where she is, get a light on.”

Mingi trips over the discarded lamp on the floor, and fumbles back to the lightswitch on the wall near the door, searching for it with his hands but reluctant to tear his eyes away from you. Suddenly the room floods with the overhead light, a stark fluorescent glow, and the black spots across your vision start to clear.

“I have you, I have you,” Yunho repeats, holding you to him.

Your hand searches blindly for Mingi on the other side of you and he collapses next to you both, taking your hand and moving in to cradle you from the opposite side, “Baby,” he murmurs, “look around, look where you are,”

Yunho’s hand on your thigh grounds you, and then Mingi softly touches your jaw to draw your gaze to him, “Look at me,”

Your eyes flick up. He looks tired, exhausted even, his hair a wayward haystack. You blink hard, “What happened to you?”

“To me?” Mingi’s brow furrows and he glances up past you to Yunho.

“You need sleep,” You manage.

Mingi laughs sharply and cups your cheeks, “I’ll sleep later. Can you tell me where you are?”

“Your place,” You manage, and you feel the nightmare receding back into your mind inch by precious inch, your breath steadying out.

“Yeah,” He sighs, “Yeah, that’s right,”

“I’m home with you,” You repeat, your fingers sinking into the plush rug beneath you.

Yunho swallows hard, fixated on the way you’ve called their apartment home, not their home, for the third time tonight. You watch the flicker of recognition in his eyes, but he lets it pass and so do you.

Tears well up in your eyes again and you sigh, “I’m sorry about your lamp,”

“What?” Mingi’s brow furrows, “Who cares about that?”

“Still,” You manage, “I’m such a mess right now,”

“If you weren’t a mess I’d be more worried,” Yunho takes your hand in his, squeezing your fingers, “and you can take all the time you need to be a mess, we’re here.”

You slump forwards onto his shoulder, “I’m… so tired,”

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Yunho soothes, his voice soft.

You nod, letting them both ease you up to your feet, but when they turn to the bed Mingi makes a soft, confused noise, “Where?”

“Oh,” You gesture towards the corner where all his bedding is wrapped up in a ball, “I’m sorry I was just… it was too much,”

Mingi’s jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck jumping as he swallows hard, and you know he’s holding down so much anger, that someone could have scared you enough that any alpha’s scent became overwhelming, that your fear might extend even to them.

“Okay,” Yunho cuts in easily, “whatever you want,”

He eases you back onto the mattress, but the idea that they might be gone again strikes a deep lance of panic through your stomach and you grasp his arm, “Don’t go,”

“Are you sure?” He murmurs.

“Please,” You insist, tugging his arm again.

He eases down beside you, and Mingi crosses to the opposite side of the bed so he can follow suit, sidling up to your back but careful not to touch you until you make it clear that you want him to. You fold your arm underneath your head and rest yourself down, and when your hair shifts off your neck you hear Yunho’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of your tender gland.

“Baby, what,” He reaches for you, fingertips hovering, “sweetheart, what did you do?”

“I’m fine,” You murmur but when you feel fingers gently coast over the raw skin you hiss sharply in pain and both their hands pull back.

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is low, shaky, and he scoops up your arm to check your wrists, finding them as swollen and bruised, “oh my god,”

“I know,” You murmur, letting your eyes drift shut.

“This is not okay,” Mingi sounds pained, “you can’t hurt yourself like this,”

“I’m okay, I promise,”

“We could have helped,” Yunho insists, “we could have scented you again, both of us, or called Seonghwa, or something, anything,”

“Seonghwa?” You start, but Mingi cuts you off as he pushes your hair further to the side to see more of your neck.

He makes a tight noise with his tongue against his teeth, “These look tender, Yunho’s right,”

“You scented me plenty,” You shake your head, letting your hair fall back into place, “but I promise, I’m okay,”

Mingi wraps his arms around you from behind, tucking you close to his chest and dropping his head onto yours, “You’re scaring me,” he confesses into your hair.

“I know,” You murmur, “but I wasn’t trying to hurt myself,”

“And now?” Yunho asks softly.

“I’m a little better,” You pull him closer, “I was overwhelmed earlier and… even you both I didn’t want, but now? I feel safer, clearer,”

Yunho kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger as you all get your emotions back in check, “Okay,”

“Can we stay just like this?” You nuzzle into him, pulling Mingi in closer behind you until you’re snuggled up so tight you might overheat .

“I’ll be wherever you want,” Mingi wraps his hand around yours and tucks them into your chest.

Yunho murmurs his agreement softly and you nod, letting their heat soak into your body and releasing your tense muscles bit by bit. You were supposed to tell them how you felt already, you need to get it out in the open before things get too blurry again, but right now you have to let it go.

Silence stretches between the three of you, their breathing even and low, and you’re not sure if they’re asleep or awake when you make your quiet plea in the dark but in a whisper you beg them to never, ever let you go again. At least for tonight, they hold you fast.

#this night together fic #honeyhotteoks fics #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #yungi x reader #yunho #mingi #yungi #ateez fic #yunho fic #mingi fic #yunho ff #mingi ff #ateez ff #ateez series

626 notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 7 months

Text

A Little Lost

Liam Lawson x Reader x Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargeant

Genre: fluff and hurt/comfort

Summary: With her ADHD driving her mind into a whirlwind, she ends up slipping in public and unable to find the one person she needs. Luckily Oscar and Logan are there to help.

Warnings: non-sexual age play, agere/age-regression, panic attacks, implied trauma, non-sexual use of daddy

Notes: I needed this for myself, honestly!! I hope the requester finds comfort in it like I did!

Side note: age-regression is NOT a kink. If you're going to request it, please don't make it a smut request. It gives ya girl mixed signals. AGEPLAY is a kink and has dd/lg dynamics. Please remember this when requesting... I'm begging T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Everything is overwhelming at the moment. He thoughts are running in a million different directions. The noise and bustle of the paddock is pulling Her every which way.

She needs Liam. Without a shadow of a doubt, she needs him right this second.

Her mental state is dancing between headspaces. Her little self is attempting to break free of the confines she's put the girl in. To young and to alone to be out in this environment.

The alphatauri garage feels so far away. It's an endless walk she's been attempting to make for what feels like hours now. Liam, she just needs to get to him.

Panic rises every time someone bumps into her. She squeaks out a sorry, only to be met with annoyed grunts. She needs her daddy to make it better. No - Liam - she needs Liam.

The catalyst is someone shoving her away and complaining that she should pay more attention. She is paying attention. Her brain just has thirty tabs open, three of them have commercials playing, another is driving her senses wild, and where the heck is her da- Liam?!

The shove sends her tumbling to the ground. Her elbow hits the hard ground on impact. It's bleeding, and she's officially offline.

Her little self takes over, tears welling in her eyes as she hides around the corner and tugs at her hair. A desperate attempt to settle the whirlwind of her thoughts.

She needs her daddy.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Logan and Oscar are animatedly chatting about the race as they walk through the dwindling crowd. Liam had texted about a longer debrief and had asked them to check up on his girlfriend since she wasn't answering her phone.

They'd been an item the last couple of years like Oscar and Logan have. It's an interesting and often tense dynamic. The four of them are all extremely close, but neither of the couples have openly talked about any kind of open relationship.

Oscar and Logan have. It's often a source of interesting fantasies and warm fuzzy feelings. They say nothing, though. Scared of losing their closest friends in the pursuit of something mildly taboo still.

Logan is lost in his thoughts when Oscar stops suddenly. He hushes him and listens intently. It's then that Logan catches the muffled sobs.

They take off in the direction of the crying. Neither of them are ones to let somebody suffer when they can help it.

They turn the corner, and there sits their original target. She curled up with hair in every direction, and her fingers rake through it in a violent manner.

Logan approaches her like she's a wounded animal. He's not at all hurt when she curls farther into her corner.

"Osc, we're gonna need to call Liam."

"Already on it!"

She perks up at hearing Liam's name. Eyes wide and teary, but at least she doesn't look scared of the Logan for the moment. "Daddy? Are callin' daddy?"

Oh. Oh.

She's - how did they put it? - regressed, in age. They talked about it in passing but never elaborated. Logan and Oscar had never bothered to look into it. They were protective over it and they wanted to respect that.

He's regretting that decision just a tad now. He might be more prepared on what to do if he'd bothered to figure out what it is that happens to her.

The obvious thing is that she's vulnerable and scared. "Yeah, we're calling him." He smiles warmly at her. "Can you tell me what happened? Why you're so sad?" He keeps his tone calm to hopefully ease her into a less anxious state.

She untucks herself and shows Logan her red and bleeding elbow. "Was pushed."

It's not a terrible scrape, not one to be worried about, but it is getting on all her clothes. He'll have to ask about the pushing later.

Oscar comes back and sighs in annoyance. "He said another thirty minutes at least of debrief. I feel bad for worrying him now."

Oscar sees where the two are crouched and throws Logan a confused look. "Is everything alright?"

"Well, I think someone needs a band-aid for her elbow and somewhere to wait for daddy." Logan tries to communicate that there is more going on here. Oscar looks between the two, and then his face lights up in some kind realization.

"Lando already left for the day, so my room should be safe. And I know he has crayon band-aids in his room."

She considers the idea. Carefully studying both of their faces for some hint of malicious intent. "Daddy said no strangers."

Logan exaggerates a pondering face. "Are me and Osc strangers? I thought we were best friends!"

She shakes her head yes and moves closer to the American. A reassurance that she does consider him a friend. "More then friend!" She leans up to Logan and motions to lend his ear so she can whisper into it. "Daddy says loves." She giggles, and Logan has to use all his strength not to look dumbfounded at the confession.

Oscar and Logan wrangle her the back way to the McLaren motor home. Their success in going mostly unnoticed has both males breathing in relief as they step into the saftey of Oscar's room.

The Aussie ducks out to grab the band-aid from his teammates' room, and Logan is left to sit with the girl currently looking confused and intrigued. She hesitantly grabs the stuffed koala sitting on the shelf. The one Logan had gotten for him as a joke before they started dating.

"Has name?" Her fingers stroke the soft fluff of the toy.

"I'm not sure. Should we ask Osc when he gets back?" She nods once, then comes and sits on the couch with him. The stuffed koala cradled in her arms like it's the most precious thing she's ever seen.

Logan is still trying to comprehend what she meant earlier. Is it just her small brain misinterpreting something Liam said? Or is this an honest confession that she doesn't currently understand the implications of? He doesn't want to get his hopes up and settles on the second option for now.

Oscar sneaks back in the door and starts unwrapping the bangade. It is, in fact, shaped like a red crayon. Her eyes light up even as he washes the cut and places the band-aid on it.

"There we go, all better now." Oscar smiles at her as she hugs his koala.

"Thank you."

She's completely entranced in the stuffed toy again. Logan taps her on the nose to get her attention. "Did you want to ask Osc your question?"

She makes an 'o' shape with her mouth. "Does koala have a name?" She looks up at him with expectant eyes.

Oscar considers. "Hmmm, I don't think he does. Would you like to give him one?"

She takes careful consideration, weighing all the possible options. "Koko."

"Love it."

"Very creative!"

Her expression changes into something sad. Her eyes once again glassy like before. "Will daddy like?" She curls up in Logans lap with the toy.

"Yeah, he'll love it. Certainly not as much as he loves you."

She hums and closes her eyes. It's adorable and peaceful. "Do you think Liam might let us do this with her again?"

"If he doesn't kill us first. Speaking of, I should let him know where we are."

♡♡♡♡♡

Liam likes to think he's relatively quick. He runs often enough and has good stamina.

This is the fastest he's ever moved in his entire life. He grabs all their stuff with a speed that shocks both Daniel and Yuki.

"What's got you in a hurry, mate?"

"Just eager to see my girl, is all."

Daniel shoots him a wink. "Have a good time!" Liam can only laugh nervously in response. It's certainly not the good time he's thinking of. No, he'd promised her a nice dinner tonight.

Now he's thinking he might have to shift plans. Which - he's not upset about. Liam loves when she's in headspace because it gives him an excuse to do things he wouldn't normally. As in, she's obsessed with cars, and he gets to spend time building the most intricate tracks with household items, blocks, and an ungodly amount of Legos that they have at home. She's always sad when they have to leave them for long periods of time, but he brings a portion with just in case.

He makes for the McLaren garage and is greeted by Oscar out front. It's odd, knowing that their secret is out and yet the Aussie is looking at him affectionately.

They make light conversation while they venture into the building. It feels normal still, nothing to awkward aside from the fact Liam goes on rabbit trails every ten seconds. It's the reason Oscar knows how to handle Lando and his chaotic communication tactics.

Liam mentally slaps himself. Now is not the time to be drooling over his friend's stability and emotional intelligence. He should really just confess. They'd talked about it, they both want it, but that could result in rejection.

Oscar opens the door and slips inside. Liam takes a second to observe the scene in front of him. His girl, happily laying her head in Logan's lap rambling about the koala in her hands.

"Look who I found!" Oscar gestures to Liam. Her head perks up and she scrambles off the couch, slipping to the floor before throwing herself at Liam.

"Hi, love bug." Liam attempts to get on the floor without falling as she clings to him. He fails miserably as the topple over. "Were you good for Oscar and Logan?" She hums something into his chest that he can't decipher.

"She was an angel, honestly." Logan leans forward on the couch. It looks like he's contemplating something, shooting stead looks at Oscar.

With effort, Liam finally gets them situated on the floor. "Do you know what might have triggered this?"

"She scraped her elbow, was that it maybe?"

Liam ponders the suggestion. His eyes find the crayon band-aid that wasn't there the last time he saw her. He sighs, hopefully she was just overwhelmed, and this wasn't an altercation of some kind. "She's struggled with - uh, being shoved around - I guess. You know, home life things."

"Maybe she was shoved and fell which caused the panic attack." Oscar eyes them sadly.

"Well, you two feel up to helping us get out of here?"

♡♡♡♡♡

Oscar doesn't understand how Liam makes this look normal. HAs this been going on under their noses this whole time? If only he could go back in time, rewind a bit and do some research. He and logan could help out if they wanted.

She was falling asleep in the car and still looks like she might clock out in the elevator. Still, Oscar can't help imagining the four of them together, like this.

Liam twirls her around as they walk until she almost falls over. She falls into him, laughing and smiling, the injury from earlier forgotten about.

Their space is comfortable and lived in. The two even slip into a routine, pulling out food for dinner. He whispers something to her, and she skitters off.

They pull chairs out from around the small table. Liam offers them water and something to eat. "So, about... this."

"Which this? The four of us or her specifically?" Logan raises an eyebrow.

"Both."

The girl returns and climbs into Liam's lap clutching a notebook. She flips open to a page and excitedly hands it to Liam to hand to the two across the table.

Oscar isn't sure whether to laugh or melt, so he mixes the two together. The pages are lined with drawings of the four of them. "She's quite the artist."

"You've no idea. Our fridge is covered in artwork." Liam chuckles a bit and wraps his arms around her.

"Told you! More than friends!"

"Do you know what that means, love bug?"

"Three people to cuddle!"

Oscar really does laugh this time. "Well, you're not wrong!" He shoot a look to Logan.

"Count us in." The American smile.

Liam sighs heavily in disappointment. It's a confusing reaction that Oscar wasn't expecting. "She's going to murder me later for not having this talk when she's big."

"Can't be mad if you make me dessert!" A devilish grin spreads across her cheeks.

"Only this once."

"You said that last time."

287 notes · View notes

yoonia · 1 year

Text

The (im)Perfect Ending | knj (18+)

⤑ Summary | There are stories written about meeting the right person at the wrong time. In your story, he was the right person who was all wrong for you to claim. He was your best mistake, while you were nothing more but a small chapter in his story. A story with an ending that had been written long before you came into the picture. But then life brings you back together again, allowing your unabashed hope to slither its way back in. The only thing you can do is to wonder—will this be just another interlude in his story, or are you given a second chance to rewrite your whole story, with a new pen to write your own happy ending?

⤑ Title | The (im)Perfect Ending ⤑ Pairings | Namjoon x female reader ⤑ Genre | Past Lovers!au, Second Chance, Infidelity, Smut, Angst

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story involves acts of infidelity. Both characters are mature, as the story is set years after their relationship ended. Namjoon is older than OC/reader (Joon would be in his mid to late 30s, OC is in her late 20s), so there is a bit of an age gap. There will be mentions and depictions of pregnancies and surprise babies. This story is purely fictional, any similarities in the usage of name and circumstances are purely coincidental. This is roughly edited, but I hope it won’t affect your reading experience too much.

⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; infidelity, older man!Namjoon, former underclassman!reader, soft dom!Namjoon, alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, surprise babies, involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, mentions/implications of first time sex, partly clothed sex, clothed foreplay, kitchen sex, biting, rubbing, groping, body worshipping, dry humping, dry orgasm, dirty talk, mentions/implications of deep-throating, mentions/depictions of public sex, pain kink, praise kink, stripping, nudity, implied size kink, breast/nipple play, hand job, neck kissing, finger sucking, fingering, clit play, oral sex (female and male receiving), grinding, riding, biting, face fucking/riding, cum eating, hair pulling, light choking, manhandling, begging, crying (not really involved during sex), reader may have gone into a headspace at one point, orgasm control (minor/implied), doggy style, rough sex, vanilla sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, implied creampie, aftercare.

⤑ Word count | 43,8k words

⤑ Read on AO3

Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if we had met earlier. If my life would be different today if I had made different decisions then. Had it been me who decided to walk away, just when you finally opened your heart to me? Had I been reading things wrong, and that your parting words had meant something else? I wonder if the things that you said to me then were never meant as words of goodbye, but a wish for something more. That we could be something else. But there is no way that we could ever change the past, is there? And look at us now. Our past decisions had only left us stranded on each of our own’s paths, and we have become nothing else but broken pieces drifting in the ocean of sorrow and pain, where our memories became nothing more but rotten dust haunting us in our dreams.

“Hi.”

A moment passes, and just when you are starting to believe that this is just another one of those dreams that have been haunting you during your long and lonely nights, the man standing before you speaks. His voice sounds so deep that you can feel its vibration reaching deep in your chest. You can almost feel his gentle words caressing your skin when he answers,

“It’s been a while.”

If you had thought that you have had his smile engraved so profoundly in your memories, then you would have been wrong. Because the moment he smiles, it looks nothing like what you remembered. It looks much better. Way better. And it shouldn’t be stirring the flutters in your chest or bringing warmth within your body the moment you get to see it again after so many years have passed.

“I think ‘a while’ sounds like an understatement,” you find yourself speaking, surprising yourself with how steady your voice sounds when every bit of your senses seems to be shaking in his presence. He softly laughs at your comment, and it sounds so rich that you feel your heart swelling and beating faster. And you hate it.

Because your heart isn’t supposed to be doing these things. Not after so long.

“You, uh—you look good,” he says, coaxing a smile out of you, though you try your hardest to hold it back from showing.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Kim Namjoon,” you answer him, drawing his smile to grow a bit deeper. And again, you hate it. Not his smile. It would be impossible to hate his smile. You just hate the way you are unable to look away from it, or the way you find yourself being drawn further when his smile lingers.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Namjoon says with a tenderness that isn’t supposed to be present, before his eyes flicker down, shamelessly taking you in. “Are you on your way back from work?”

Glancing down at your handbag, the one that is so obviously showing him the necessities that you regularly carry with you to work, and then to the blazer you are wearing over your cashmere sweater and the pair of jeans that you always wear on the days when work is going slow, you nod with a smile. “Yes, I just got off,” you answer him, and the brief reprieve that you get by looking away from his face brings everything back—the movements from the crowd around you, the sounds coming from the chatters and the shops in the surrounding area—every single thing that is currently happening around you. Everything that has been muted in his presence comes flooding into your senses, reminding you of where you are.

You weren’t lying when you told him that you were coming back from work. You have no idea what had driven you to stop by at the mall tonight, when you would normally return straight away to the warm comfort of your small and quiet apartment after a long day. But seeing him standing before you, an actual presence of himself instead of a mirage, you wonder if it had been fate that brought you here.

“I figured I could spare some time to do some window shopping before going home,” you continue, though it sounds more as if you are reasoning with yourself instead of answering his unspoken question.

“You’re alone, then?”

You nod. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then, uh—” he stops, suddenly looking a bit unsure with himself for a brief moment as he takes a quick glance around. “Do you have some free time before you go home? What do you say about grabbing coffee with me? I would love to, uh—catch up.”

You should say no. Refusing his invitation would be the only sane and mature thing to do, but the words refuse to come out of your lips. Walking away would be the right thing, just like how you did the same years ago. But just like then, before the choice to grow mature and wise ever came to you, your heart chooses differently for you. And it would be the one option that you have yet to decide if it would be the wrong one, or something that you would never regret in the future.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

“I see that some things haven’t changed,” Namjoon says as he looks the coffee selection that you ordered—iced cappuccino, double shot, no whip cream or sugar. Your eyes fall on his order as he places it on the table before he carefully takes the seat right across from you.

Double Iced Américano.

You still order the same thing as well, you wonder to yourself instead of voicing it out loud. “Some things have changed, though,” you find yourself saying instead as you take a slow sip of your cold drink.

“I guess so,” he softly laughs. “You wear your hair longer now.”

“And you’ve gotten married.”

You never meant to sound snappy about it, yet the words simply slipped right out of your lips before you could stop it. But you find no remorse when you look up at him to see his reaction. Instead of getting flustered, the look in his eyes shows no change in its light. There is a tease there in his gaze, the one that had once stolen your heart—and has yet to return it as whole—years back, but there is also the astonished look that you are still quite familiar with. The same one that he would give you for your sharp tongue, which was something that seemed to amuse him a lot then, and may amuse him today still.

“So you’ve heard the news.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Heard of it?” you scoff at him. “Obviously, there was no way I would’ve missed it when I had the delightful privilege to receive the invitation through my mail.”

To your pleasure, he seems surprised to hear this. His eyes grow wide, and there is a sourness that you feel coming from him as he gives you a wry smile. “I never—” Namjoon stops himself and closes his eyes. The sigh that comes out of him sounds exasperated, filled with pure exhaustion that pricks at you right in the chest. “She must’ve sent it to you,” he murmurs softly almost to himself, and you can almost hear the disbelief in his voice before he looks up at your face.

“How kind of her,” you dryly say to him, and you indulge the pleasure of seeing him react with a grimace.

You keep your eyes on him as you sip your coffee, to see the apology that is written so plainly in his gaze. Silence lingers, and you wait with bated breath to hear what he is about to say.

“I’m—”

A tight clench rises in your chest when you start to predict what his next words would be, so you quickly stop him before he could say them out loud. “Don’t,” you whisper to him. “Don’t apologise for her when it’s not your fault. It makes it even worse.”

Namjoon shakes his head slowly while keeping his gaze low, and you enjoy seeing the sight of remorse that appears all over his face. You shouldn’t be entertained by this, but somehow, it feels—good.

It feels cathartic to be able to dump all of this on him after years of keeping this to yourself, as there had never been any chance for you to speak to him after you parted ways. And you cannot deny the pleasure you are feeling from seeing the pain that flickers in his eyes. It appears only briefly that you might have missed it had you not been keeping your eyes on him.

But it still helps make you feel as if all the past hurt that you had to keep inside for many years had all been worth it. Only for seeing him experience the same thing you did then; to be caught off guard and completely at a loss, without knowing how to react or feel when reality was thrust back at your face, forcing you to open your eyes to see it.

Back then, you simply took it as your punishment. Because, in a way, you did deserve it.

You both did.

“I’m not apologising for her. For anyone, on that matter. I’m apologising on my own behalf,” he says with a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. That was”—he swallows thickly—”that seems so wrong, in so many ways. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt.”

“Then don’t,” you calmly say to him, once again surprising yourself when you manage to keep your voice even, or to keep a smile on your face when you finally get to look at him in the eyes as you are telling him all of this. “Don’t even try to understand how I would feel because you may never understand. Besides, it was a long time ago, wasn’t it? None of these things matter anymore.”

A wry smile comes to his face, and instead of feeling happy about it, you feel—angry.

Despite everything that had happened, despite all the hurt, you hate seeing how it seems to be weighing on him. You hate wondering about the kind of guilt that he might be feeling now, if there is truly any. Instead of celebrating it, all you want to do is to reach across the table to console him.

The thought almost makes you laugh. Yet you wonder if perhaps everything that people around you kept telling you back then had been right, that time did heal you, after all. Because the pain that nearly killed you years ago no longer hurts as much as it did back then, even if you can still feel remnants of it residing inside your fractured heart.

Years ago, even saying his name alone would have made you feel as if every part of your heart was breaking into pieces until it felt like you had none of it left. Years ago, you even found yourself wishing that you could hurt him the way he made you feel. Yet that feeling no longer exists now when you are looking at him. It doesn’t feel good at all to see the way his eyes dim at the knowledge that he has a hand in causing you pain even long after everything between you had ended.

But healing isn’t supposed to bring a wave of new emotions rising inside your chest as you look into his eyes—be it to feel sympathy and to wish that you could take away the sorrowful look that you see gleaming in his gaze. It isn’t supposed to bring back all the old feelings that you had long buried deeply, or to have all the memories of the past come flashing through your mind the longer you look into his eyes and be in his presence.

Your skin prickles uncomfortably as the feeling grows more intense. Walking away from him would be the right thing to do for you. Just like how it did when you had chosen to do it that many years ago when you walked away from his life, leaving him behind with your heart fractured and only a small dignity of yours left intact.

And yet, something tells you that you might be too late. Even the memory of your past hurt wouldn’t be able to help convince you to walk away, when the strong pull of his presence is impossible for you to deny.

Sometimes my mind would wander back to the letter that you sent me then. To remind me of the words that you had secretly hidden between the letters, between the consoling words that you gave me while you talked about broken dreams, fallen hopes, and unanswered prayers. ‘I love you.’ For a long time, I wished and prayed so badly to hear those words coming from you. Yet the moment you gave them to me, there was a sense of finality hidden among them that was impossible for me to ignore. Those words you sent to me gave me happiness, sadness, relief, and grief, because it had sounded like an answered prayer to me, while at the same time, it sounded like a goodbye. An end to the sinful journey that we both started. And then I left, because loving you was becoming too much, too painful, knowing that there was a different future waiting for you at the other end of that journey. I left while knowing that I had earned your love and carried a piece of your heart with me, because I could never bear the thought of having to let go of your love and giving your heart back so you could give them to another. Because even after goodbye, you were still mine, just as much as I would always be yours.

“Why would you choose to walk down that path when you knew that there was no light waiting for you at the end of the tunnel?”

A good friend of yours gave you those exact words then, after you shared with them everything—about your secret, about your sin, about the forbidden love that you had to hide from the world which you preserved only for him.

Namjoon had been with her for a long period of time before you met him. A story that had been written long before you came into his life. But love never chooses to whom it would fall onto, striking you so deep in the chest ever since the day you first met him and you were unable to ignore it when it began to blossom. For a long time, you tried to fight against it, to deny its presence, and you kept refusing to acknowledge it. But no matter how hard you tried, the feeling kept growing stronger, fighting harder to survive until it took root within you so deep that you finally had to admit defeat.

You should have kept it to yourself. To keep it as your own dirty little secret until it would fade away with time. And yet, just like always, the truth managed to find its way to come out onto the world, no matter how hard you had tried to conceal it.

And when it finally happened, he never looked away, nor did he ever deny or push you out of his path. Instead, he chose to embrace you, to hold you against his chest just when you tried to run away and bury your feelings for him. Instead of pushing you away, he kissed every drop of tear that you had shed when you allowed yourself to bare your heart for him to see and let him know that you loved him.

The moment that you fully accepted that your love for him was forbidden, and that there was no way you could allow that feeling to grow any further, he chose to abandon all logic and came to find you instead. You were ready to say goodbye, and yet he pulled you into his arms and kissed away every broken word that was leaving your lips, opening his heart that was supposed to have been claimed by another just so he could keep you as a part of him, unwilling to let go.

“If this story had been written with a different ink, a different pen, or even a different hand, then perhaps we could have a different ending.”

Those were the words that Namjoon gave you then, when he held you through what was supposed to be a cold and lonely night. It was the night that he spent piecing every broken part of your heart which had been shattered when you bare your soul for him. Those words were supposed to help you see that there was already a different ending written to his story, while yours remained unseen. An unwritten plot that the universe had yet to reveal. You should have realised it then, that the two of you would have never been a part of each other’s ending, and that your paths would only end in an intersection where he would have to take a different path to yours.

But Namjoon made it hard for you to see it when he spent all night making love to you, allowing you to see and feel what it was like to be in his arms, to feel his touches and kisses, and to embrace pleasure that no other man but him could have ever given you. Then he continued to make it hard for you to open your eyes and see reality when he kept you blinded by his love, binding you to him with the wanton pleasure that he kept showing you each time he saw fear and uncertainty in your eyes.

You knew then that it was wrong to continue, yet you found it hard to end your sinful act when it felt so right to be in his arms, to be kissing him so freely until he could feel all the love you kept inside. Never once did you feel any remorse, even as the long nights progressed into weeks, months, and then years, until the moment everything fell apart.

The memories which keep flashing in your mind to remind you of the past should also remind you of all the hurt, of all the despair that you had gone through back then. Instead, just like then, you choose to keep your eyes closed shut and push them all the way to the back of your mind as you return his kisses, to revel in his touches, as you once again fall into his warmth after he opened his arms to let you back in.

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” you try to speak between the deep kiss you are sharing, though whatever you are trying to tell him quickly fades and withers when he kisses them away, drawing a series of soft moans instead of words.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Namjoon simply answers as he pulls away from the kiss, yet he gives you no sign of letting go. From your lips, he trails his kisses down the column of your throat, pressing his hot kiss right against the very spot on the side of your neck that would always make you squirm. How he still remembers how to find it is beyond you. But he does it so naturally, as if the years that you spent apart had been nonexistent.

“And I thought you said that you had to go home,” you try to speak again, though the moans that keep escaping you and the way you keep arching into him are betraying your words, allowing him to see how much you meant none of it.

“I did say that,” he hums against your skin. This time, he does pull away, barely, just enough so he can look at your face while his arms are still wrapped around you, denying you a chance to escape. “But going home is the last thing that I have in mind right now.”

“What—” you almost choke, almost finding it hard to speak when you open your eyes and you get to see the familiar look in his eyes looking back at you. The deep passion, the love, the desire—everything that you have missed for so long now appearing right before you. Things are not supposed to turn out this way, and you are not supposed to let that silly little hope of yours being revived from the deepest part of your soul where it had been buried and left forgotten when you ask him, “What are you thinking now, then?”

“You,” Namjoon says, sounding determined and completely sure of himself, with not a slither of doubt can be heard from his voice. “All I have in mind right now is you. All I can think of right now is all that I want to do to you, and what I want to make you feel.”

“And what is that?”

His eyes seem to be lost in you as he grazes your lips with the tip of his thumb. “Everything. I want you to feel everything, so you’ll remember how good we were together.”

But I never forgot.

That small voice of conscience finally reveals itself, only to admit the truth that you have been denying to hear.

Perhaps that had been the reason why you refused to end the night when it was time to part ways with him after that impromptu coffee date. Maybe that was the reason why you invited him into your home, the small apartment that would usually feel so cold and desolated, now burning hot with the desire that you are sharing with him.

Whatever it was that had crossed your mind when you opened the door to your home for him to enter had not been anything close to this, nor did it involve him lifting you up onto the kitchen counter where he can part your legs for him so he can step closer, pressing hard against your heated center as he captures your lips once again into a deep kiss.

You barely managed to take off your shoes right after you entered through the door when he pulled you into his arms. With his lips capturing yours, he managed to shut your mind until he succeeded to corner you in your own home, placing you in the same position as you did back then when you first gave in to the desire which he aroused inside you.

There are words still left unspoken, but everything else becomes nothing more than a blur of motions as you easily melt into his kiss, and it doesn’t take long for you to realise that he was right.

Every touch he is giving you, every kiss, every soft hum that he releases when you return every single sinful act of his continue to bring you back to the past. You have never forgotten how good it felt when you were with him, and the memories from the past are only making things better, intensifying everything that is happening to your body and what he is doing to you now.

A groan slips out of him as he moves to slip your blazer off of your shoulders. Once it is gone, your sweater comes next, and he leaves you breathless as he easily pulls it over your head and tosses it away.

With your upper body now exposed and your chest is heaving with your deep breaths, he comes to a halt. His eyes trail down, resting on your breasts. With only your lacy bra left to cover your skin, his gaze feels like a gentle caress. You can feel its heat, as if he is touching you with his fingers when they remain on your waist, keeping a gentle hold on you there with only his thumbs moving in small circles and keeping away from where your body is warming up under his perusing gaze.

The moment he finally moves, everything within you sparks alight.

Deft fingertips are moving on your skin with a light touch that is not bringing as much heat as his gaze does, yet the responses your body is giving to his touches are intense. Your body simply burns hot with your desire and you have never before felt this alive. As he kisses your lips, his hands trail their way to your covered breasts, touching the area where you are most sensitive to his touch. He easily brings back a part of you that has been lying dormant. Your senses are being awakened by his touch, and he makes you feel as if you have been asleep for so long and he is waking you up with his kiss, his touches, and the soft sounds that he makes as he slowly devours you.

“You’re more beautiful than how I remember you,” Namjoon says as he pulls away from the kiss, almost whispering when his words are filled with raw emotion mixed in with his desire.

“I’m flattered that you still remember me,” you answer him with a shaky voice, drawing a low chuckle out of him.

“How could I ever forget you?” Namjoon looks at you straight in the eyes as he says this. There is an invisible clench in your chest when you can clearly see that he is being sincere. And it scares you so much to see it that you simply choose to deny it.

“Don’t speak as if you’ve spent your life thinking about me when you’ve been living your own life for the past seven years,” you say to him, though it is becoming a struggle to keep your voice even this time around when the fractures in your heart begin to reemerge together with your memories of him, refusing to be ignored.

Your words cause him to raise his eyebrows. “You won’t believe me if I tell you that I do think about you?”

Scoffing at him, you try to press down the hope brewing in your chest that he might be telling you the truth. “And supposedly you did think of me, then what would you be thinking about?”

“Everything. I think about everything that has to do with you,” he immediately answers, once again making you believe that he actually means it. “I would think of your face, your beautiful smile, and the sound of your voice.” His eyes search your face, and he is taking his time with it as if he wants to memorise everything about you, while his hands begin to move again. His fingertips are gentle as they come grazing on your skin, yet it is still enough to make you shudder, to feel warmth rising from wherever he is touching you.

A ghost of a smile flickers on his face once he notices this. “Other times, I’d think about your skin—how it grows warm when I touch you, especially right where you are sensitive to be touched. Like—” Namjoon gazes down as his hands slide upward, until his fingers reach the hem of your bra and his thumbs graze against your soft mound, drawing a gasp out of you when you feel a sudden heat rushing through your body. A grin appears on his face at the way you are responding to him by arching your chest into his touch, and he softly hums, “Yes, just like this.”

Your breath is caught in your chest when you feel so much within such a short amount of time and with only the little things that he is doing to you. His deep gaze continues to bring you a myriad of sensations that intensify everything that his touches are bringing to your body, while his words are causing the flame within you to come back alive.

You say nothing to him in return, taking in everything that he is trying to say. Namjoon doesn’t seem to be completely done with baring his truth yet, and the more you listen to him, the more you find it hard not to bare your own truth for him to see.

“I would think about your eyes. I could never forget the way you look at me, and how honest those eyes always become that I would almost always be able to know what you are thinking,” he continues, and you can hear the tremble in his voice. As if he is overcome with emotions as he is saying those words.

“And I would think about the gloss that would appear in those eyes when you are feeling something so intense. Just like how they look to me now. But I always love looking into them more when I’m touching you,” he says this with a small smile, his eyes looking deep into yours while he continues to move his hands, gaining more confidence when you make no move to stop him. He reaches up to brush his fingers across your covered breasts, his steady palms pressing into the lacy cup that your bra seems to melt under the heat of his touch.

Taken over by the delectable rush flowing through your body, your chest arches into his hands and your soft moans start escaping your lips before you can stop it. Then he draws more reaction when he moves his thumbs and presses down at your covered nipples, causing you to gasp and almost miss the words he is saying next, “And I love the way you would look at me when I’m making you scream my name while you—”

Come.

The word echoes in your mind as he suddenly moves his fingers to pinch around your nipples, causing your entire body to quiver with the mixture of pain and pleasure that he is drawing from your body.

Pleased to see your reaction, he draws his hands away, moving them to your back as he leans closer. As his fingers begin tugging at the clasps holding your bra together, his lips return to yours, distracting you with a deep kiss while he works to peel the flimsy thing off of your skin. He has it in his hand when he pulls away from the kiss. With a flick of his wrist, your bra disappears from sight. He wastes no time to continue further. His hands return to your body, touching your bare breasts with his gentle touch which gradually grows firmer, drawing shudders from you as the warm skin of his palms come brushing across your hardened nipples. His hands linger for a moment longer before he continues trailing them down the curves of your body that he can reach.

You are left speechless, unable to speak or react other than to allow yourself to revel in the pleasure. With your mind muddled in bliss under his wandering touches, it is hard to control the way your body is responding to everything that he is giving you. Each pulse of your blood feels hot in your veins, as it flows down from the parts that he is touching to the center of your desire hidden all the way down south. A raw, unfiltered want that feels so intense and is completely beyond your control takes over. Holding on to the edge of the counter with a tight grip, you begin rocking your hips, pressing down against the cold surface of your kitchen counter to satiate the pulsing need coming from your core.

His own hunger is palpable through his eyes as he is watching you move. The sight of you trying your best to quench your need seems to entrance him. It draws a deep groan from his chest right before he moves, stopping you from going further without him being a part of it.

Gripping you at the waist, Namjoon brings you forward until you are at the edge of the counter. Your legs slide open and part wider for him. He tugs you against him, pressing your softness against his hardness as he captures your lips again. Your body shudders when you can feel him, as the testament of his desire comes brushing against your covered center.

Your hips jerk when he presses into you harder. Even with both pairs of pants getting in the way, it is still not enough to hide the intense pulses rising from both of your bodies. Taken over by your own pure and raw instinct, your hands rise, gripping at his hair as your mouth moves against his, returning his hungry kiss with your own. His arms grow tight around you, holding you firmly to him as he sucks your bottom lip until he draws another gasp from you. An intense shudder runs through your body with the pain that he inflicts on you, though the way your breasts are rubbing against his hard chest is quick to wash it away, replacing it with a blissful rush that almost pushes you over the edge.

Tightening your hold on his hair, you begin to move again, rocking your hips against him at a steady pace, gliding and rubbing the source of your heat against the hard line of his cock that you can feel straining from under his pants. You hear him moaning at the friction, though the sound that he is making gets drowned into the kiss as he continues pressing his lips on yours.

Namjoon catches your lower lip again and sucks harder, drawing a whimper through your lips just as you are rewarded with pure, unsheltered pleasure. A pleasure that rocks you through your soul, one that ignites the desire inside you until you cry out, drawn by its intense wave rushing through your body. Breaking away from the kiss, he takes you in his arms, holding you against his chest until the shudders of your release slowly winds down. Warm breath lands on your bare shoulder as he softly sighs, finding content in the way your bodies fold together in a tight embrace.

“I missed this,” he hums, though his voice almost sounds like a moan. As if watching you unravel is already enough to put him on the edge. He tightens his arms around you, keeping you engulfed in his warmth as if he is afraid that you might slip away. “I missed us. I missed everything.”

“I missed us too,” you murmur against his neck with a content sigh. Breathing in his scent, your body slowly recovers. With a deep inhale of breath, you pull away from him. Disappointment sparks through his eyes when you gently push him off of you. Once you are apart, his whole body stiffens. There is no doubt in your mind that he is expecting to see guilt in your eyes when you look up at him, and perhaps for you to kick him out of your home once the blissful fog fades and reality sinks in.

Because the two of you have crossed the line, and there is only one option for either of you to choose to fix this.

Deep down, you know that choosing the most logical option would be the wise thing to do. To end this now and never look back again. But with the soft hum of your pleasure still surging through your veins, and your heart is beating in a way that is making it seem as if it hadn’t been truly living and beating the entire time you spent your life without him, you know that it will be too late to turn back now. There is no way you can continue living without his touch now that he has managed to rouse your soul back alive. Now that he has succeeded in reminding you of how good he can make you feel.

“What I missed the most is to touch you,” you murmur with a sigh, and his eyes grow wide. No doubt he is completely caught off guard to hear you say this instead of telling him to walk out the door and kicking him out of your life. A visible sigh of relief comes out through his lips, though his shoulders still seem tense.

“Is that really what you want?” he questions you. And for the first time ever, you notice that he has grown nervous as he anticipates your answer. Seeing this helps eliminate every single doubt that you may have felt since the moment he came through the door and he chose to let go of every last bit of his restraint to kiss you. Because you can finally tell that he sincerely wants this too. Hopefully just as much as you want this to happen.

Without looking away, you answer him with, “More than ever,” before reaching down to start pushing your pants down your legs. You shift on the counter and raise your hips to lower your pants, almost stumbling when you can barely hold up your weight until he lends a hand. He is quick to make a move to gently grab your waist to keep you from falling while you kick away your pants and your flimsy—and now completely soiled—panties, until they are out of the way.

Seeing that you are now completely bare for him, he makes his move to strip down. You reach for his shirt just as he begins pulling at it. It takes merely a few seconds until it is gone, followed by his shoes, socks, and then his pants quickly joining the pile of mess laid on the floor, and there is not a single thread left as he stands before you.

For a moment, neither of you makes a move.

It feels like the space around you falls into a blissful silence as you find yourselves completely stripped bare, with nothing left to get in between as you are facing each other in the silence of your kitchen. Aside from the light coming from the microwave behind you, neither of you had the chance to turn on the overhead lamps that would normally light up the room. The existing light casts a soft, nearly muted golden glow across the room. Under the dim lighting, he glows. Just like how he would often appear to you whenever his presence would come to visit you in your dreams at night.

Just like how he took you in, you take this chance to look at him properly. From his bare chest, you find the faint scars that you have always remembered seeing on his skin, the hidden marks that you used to trace with your fingers, and the dent on his waist that you used to hold when he was making love to you.

Through his strong shoulders that feel hard under your palms and his toned torso that flexes under your gaze, you find the most change that he has gained so far, with strong muscles that have grown during the years that had gone by. There are visible signs of ageing that are also beginning to show on his skin, his lower torso, and even on the strands hidden in his thick hair, but none of them could take away any part of his beauty that you can openly admire.

In your eyes, he is still the perfect man that you have ever known. He is perfect in every single aspect that you can find in him. Not just physically, but everything else that lies within, most specifically the part of him which had drawn you into him the first time you met.

Yet what you are currently drawn into has everything to do with the physical aspect of his, as your eyes fall on his hard cock that has been drawing your attention by looking hard and ready.

Just for you.

Your heartbeat picks up once you get a clear view of how much he wants you. Under your gaze, his cock seems to come alive as you see it throbbing, twitching slightly as his want grows just as much as yours.

“You said something about touching me,” Namjoon teasingly whispers, breaking the silence that has grown thick with tension as your hunger for him grows. His lips tip up at one corner, forming a small grin as you look up to him. A flush of warmth spreads through your cheeks, yet he helps calm your unsteady heart when he gently adds, “Show me that you meant it.”

His words encourage you to move, to show him that you meant every word you said to him through your actions alone. Your hands are trembling as you reach up, choosing to start from the face that has been haunting your sleep on those cold, lonely nights, and you gently touch his cheeks with the tips of your fingers. His gaze remains on your face as you move your hands down, grazing his jawline, his chin, down the length of his neck, feeling every sharp edges and smooth dents, grazing briefly at the soft stubble that is barely visible on his skin.

His breath is caught as you brush against his chest. His taut muscles grow tense under your touch as you keep going lower. A shiver runs through his body when you reach his lower torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles and the marks on his skin that you used to find yourself getting drawn into. The shiver intensifies as you reach down to brush across the thin line of coarse hair beneath his navel, and then everything in him halts when you continue gliding your fingers lower, as if he has lost his breath and every last will that he has to move now that you are getting closer to his erection, the clear evidence of his desire that has been calling for your attention ever since it was revealed to you.

“Don’t stop,” he says with a raspy voice when your touch lingers just an inch away from his hard shaft. His hands have found a gentle hold on your waist, where they remain as he keeps himself from guiding you so you can be the one to set up the pace. But as he speaks, he slowly moves his hands upward, finding their way back to your bare breasts. He moves his thumbs in lazy circles, starting from the underside of your breasts and continuing up to the peak. He nearly distracts you from your intention in his effort to ease your mind into it, until his gentle voice is heard once again, nearly pleading as he whispers breathlessly to you, “Please, don’t stop.”

You wait with bated breath until his thumbs reach your nipples. The lazy circles he makes continue, moving even slower now as he anticipates your touch. Tiny waves of pleasure rise with the gentle way he is touching your hardened nipples, as he grazes the pads of his thumbs across each one, bringing up shuddering delights through your body that sends warmth inside your core.

That is when you finally move, starting with a gentle, almost tentative brush of the tips of your fingers across the length of his cock. His body jerks at your touch, yet he doesn’t stop moving his own fingers on your skin, keeping the light shudders alive. So you do exactly the same as you slowly reach down to move your fingers around the base of his cock, touching him and circling around its girth.

Namjoon draws a sharp inhale of breath as he shudders under your touch. His mouth parts when you drag your palm along the length of his hard shaft, following the veins that are pumping hot blood to the tip of his cock. While you are giving him pleasure through your soft caress, your eyes flutter to close as your past memory washes over you, bringing back all the old sensations that you once savoured from touching him like this.

“It’s been”—you sigh—“so long.”

Too long.

With gentle fingers, you carefully wrap your hand fully around the base of his cock, using a light grip that draws a deep moan out of his lips once your palm comes in contact with his hot skin. His head falls back when you start moving your palm, gliding back and forth from the base to the tip and then coming back up again, sometimes adding a light pressure between each stroke. The shudder that runs through his body comes out with his deep exhale of breath, one that shows you how much your touch is affecting him.

It has been too long since the last time you touched him like this, yet it seems that your body still remembers everything. As if every inch of your hand and fingers still remember all the right touches that he likes, how to be able to draw all the right reactions that are now beginning to affect you as well.

“Fuck, you’re right. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this good,” he groans breathlessly between his deep moans, drawing a soft, bitter laugh out of you.

“You’re not the one who has been spending the nights alone without anyone touching you the right way,” your words come with a sharpness that doesn’t seem like something that may come from you at all. But at the same time, it sounds familiar, and you know that it has come from a cavity that exists deep inside your heart.

Because it sounds hurtful. And you can almost hear the sound of the fractured pieces of your soul emerging through each word you give him.

Those pretty eyes of his find you as they snap open in his shock, though he only looks at you with half-lidded eyes when you keep up the light strokes you are giving him through the length of his cock. “You have no idea,” Namjoon barely grits out, and he is gasping at the end of his words when you tighten your grip just a tad as you drag your palm to the tip, enough to draw a rough shudder through his body. He lifts one hand away from your breast, clasping the nape of your neck as he leans closer.

“What don’t I know?” you find yourself speaking, breathless with each word coming out of your lips as he draws his face closer to you. Instead of answering your question, he captures your lips, silencing your mind—and perhaps his own—as he kisses you deeply, devouring you like a man in need of air.

Namjoon suddenly breaks away from the kiss and bends lower. His mouth quickly finds the neglected nipple and gives it a light suck, while his fingers continue pinching and rubbing on the other. Seemingly lost in the rising pleasure, his hips begin to move, rocking and pumping into your palm. Sucking a deep breath, you relish the pleasure that he is giving you, not even minding it when he begins to pull the hair at the nape of your neck to tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him.

Despite losing in himself, in his own need and pleasure, Namjoon manages to move his hand from your breast and reach down between your bodies. Between your parted legs, he finds your dripping pussy, and he immediately groans as he feels your heat and dampness on the tip of his fingers. The latter seems to increase under the touch of his fingers as you rock into his hand.

“Fuck—you’re so wet,” he moans once he unlatches his lips from your nipple. His breath sounds rough, deep and heavy with lust, and you can see it clearly coming out through his gaze when he stretches himself to his full height. Keeping one hand still on the nape of your neck, he draws his hand back from your hot pussy and gently grips your wrist to peel your hand away from his throbbing cock. “I think”—he groans—“things will end too soon if we continue this way.”

The corner of his lips curls to a grin when he hears the sound of your soft whine when he pulls your hand off of him. You watch with hazy eyes as he entwines his fingers with yours. The dampness that he gathered from you is still coating his fingers as he presses them against your hand, while your palm is still warm after touching him. He lifts your entwined hands to his lips, and he presses a soft kiss on your wrist. The act distracts you, taking your mind away from him as he steps closer, stepping between your parted legs while gently tugging your body towards him.

You draw a sharp inhale of breath once your bodies come in contact, pressing against each other, bare skin against bare skin. The sound you make seems to do something to him when he closes his eyes and shudders against you. Once he opens his eyes again, he lifts you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He does it so gently, as if he is being extra cautious so there is no possible way you would break into pieces in his arms. As if you are a little fragile thing that might shatter if he is not careful. A feeling that you share as you hold on to him tightly, except that in your mind, he would simply disappear if you would only blink or lose contact with his skin.

But the latter seems almost impossible to happen, when he doesn’t give you any sign of letting go. Not until he finally reaches your bed. Namjoon carefully lays you down and then comes down with you, crawling over you with an intense look appearing through his gaze which makes your heart race rapidly.

Propping himself on his two strong hands which sink into the bed, Namjoon lowers himself to you. He captures your lips, giving you a kiss that is soft and gentle, yet deeply filled with his dark passion at the same time. He draws a moan from you as he slips his tongue in, brushing against yours for a brief contact before pulling away with a shuddering breath. With a sigh, he rests his forehead on yours.

“Tell me you want this,” he whispers, triggering the sane and logical part of your brain to start fighting against your conscience once more, the one that is supposed to help you think more clearly yet has already fallen victim to the desire residing deep inside your heart.

You close your eyes, savouring the warmth that you feel from him while trying to listen to the voices in your head to help you decide what you truly want. As you open your eyes again, meeting his eyes with more resolve, you know that he can already find the answer before you can even make sense of your own thoughts.

You should end this before it would be too late. You know that you should. But once again, you choose to listen to your heart. You push every thought about letting him go to the back of your mind when you reach up to him and wrap your arms around him to pull him down, to kiss his lips without any single restraint.

“I want this, more than ever,” you murmur against his lips and slowly rock your hips against his, rubbing your hot slit against the length of his cock. “I want you. Now.”

A sharp inhale of breath comes from him, as if your words snap something inside him. Enough to give him reasons to let go every inhibitions that he has left and help him find his own resolve. You can feel it when he presses his lips on yours, giving you a deep kiss that puts you into a haze. He reaches down, gripping your thigh to part your legs for him so he can position himself at your center. Your heartbeat picks up to a rapid speed when you feel the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance, and your body tenses as you anticipate what is coming next.

But when he moves, he is kind and gentle, just the way you remember him doing the same back when you were still together. It helps eliminate everything else so that all you can feel is his presence that spreads all around you, filling up all the hidden crevices and the void inside your soul. There is no remorse daunting you when he slowly slides into you, once again uniting both your broken souls and bodies together after spending many years of being apart.

Tears fall from your eyes as you arch in your pleasure and he dips in, kissing those tears away the same way he did back then, all while he continues rocking, moving steadily in and out of you as he makes sweet love to you. He makes you feel and relive all the sweet and sinful love that quickly becomes so intoxicating that you instantly know that it would never be enough. Not now once your body is reminded how addicted to his love you were in the past, and how deprived of his pleasure you have been through the years you were apart.

So you relish the love and pleasure that he is giving you while you are able to. With your arms wrapped around him, you pull him down. All the way down until your mouths meet each other in a deep, passionate kiss, drowning your moans as he pumps into you in a slow and steady rocking.

“More,” you beg him with your lips grazing over his. “Make love to me, Namjoon. Please. Do it harder, make me feel you deep inside me.”

Namjoon draws a sharp inhale of breath after hearing your words, and he starts rocking faster, pushing deeper, until he is buried so deep that he almost reaches the hilt of your warmth. All at once, every part of your body and his come apart to a shuddering pleasure, and the sounds that you both are making as you embrace it together fills the entire room.

“Oh, fuck”—he moans deeply—“you feel…”

His words fade into another moan as he pushes into you even deeper until he can go no further, and you cannot blame him for not being able to finish his words. Because there is nothing that can explain this feeling—the feeling of fullness, the perfect fit you feel with him buried deeply inside you, and the waves of pleasure that come to engulf you the moment you are joined as one.

Instead of continuing to move, he comes to a halt and simply remains still. As if he wants to relish the warmth that comes surging through his body and the way your walls flutter around him, while you revel in the way your pulses seem to fall in the same rhythm as his, as if you have become one.

Namjoon has his eyes closed when he sighs. And when he opens his eyes again, your heart makes a gratifying flip in your chest from seeing the truth that resides in his gaze. The corners of his lips lift to a smile, making him look both irresistible and arousing when the glow in his eyes are filled with lust and a glimmer of pure love.

“All the memory I’ve ever had about being with you like this can never compare to this moment,” he says with a voice so gentle that you almost miss it under the loud sounds of your racing heartbeat. The moment his words sink into your muddled brain, what he is trying to tell you draws a gasp from you.

“You still remember,” you whisper, and as much as you hate it, the feeling of hope—that little stubborn thing—blooms. “Do you—” you try to question him, even when you are worried to hear his answer. “Do you think about this? About us?”

His smile softens, while there is a cloud forming in his gaze when he looks at you. “Like I said,” he whispers with a deep sigh. “You have no idea. No idea at all.”

Before you get any chance to question what he means, Namjoon begins to move. As if he is taken over by the memory of the past and the deep lust that he has for you, he starts thrusting in and out of you, going slow at first, but deep enough to rock your entire body beneath him with each thrust. The sound of your moans grow gradually louder with each pump of his cock into your depth, as he allows his emotions to flow out of him, causing his strokes to grow more intense as he continues.

The pleasure that you are feeling is incomparable to anything else that you have ever felt before, from anything that you have shared with anyone other than him. It feels too good to be true, so good that you insist to keep your eyes open so you can see him. To make sure that this is real, and not just another one of your lucid dreams that have been taking you back to him.

The feeling of his girth brushing against your walls is real, so is the spasms of pleasure that you feel rising from the depth of your core. Your hips rise to meet each of his thrust, while your chest arches as you are embracing the pleasure that comes with it. His grips on your hip and thigh grow tighter as he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck before he bites at your skin, causing you to cry out his name when the pain increases the pleasure.

“Namjoon—!”

“Cum for me. Show me that I was right, that we are perfect together,” he whispers to you. His voice fades in and out through your fogged brain, yet you can still hear his words, and you can feel your body responding immediately to his subtle command.

As if you are spellbound under his words, the waves of your climax wash over you and you embrace it with a sharp cry. It comes to you hard, harder than you have ever experienced it before. Not even when you were together in the past. Your body trembles violently beneath him while your intense orgasm pushes him over the edge, and soon you feel him shuddering above you. His cock slides back into you with one final thrust, pushing against your pulsing walls as he releases every drop of his essence inside you, filling you up with his warmth. He comes with his head tilts back, his eyes fluttering close, and a rough, breathless shout slipping out of his lips as he falls into his release.

For a moment, your entire world comes to a stock-still. Your mind remains caught in the blissful haze of your climax, while that same haze flows through your body like a soft hum. Opening your eyes takes quite an effort, and you only manage once his whispering voice pierces through your haze, softly calling you back to him as he slowly recovers from his own high.

When you finally manage to return to the present, half expecting to open your eyes only to realise that all of this has been nothing but a dream and you would wake to find yourself alone in your cold bed, you are immediately met with his beautiful eyes and his dimpled smile. Within moments, your haze fades into null and every part of your sense clears out, allowing you to take in this moment, to see him as he hovers above you with a deep passionate gaze looking down on you.

Both of you are breathing heavily, still needing time to recover completely. The sound fills the entire room that has somehow grown excruciatingly silent. The air around you feels thick, and you can hear nothing else other than your racing heartbeat which seems to fall in the same speed as his. Still attached to each other, he lowers himself, bringing his hot body that is veiled with a thin sheet of sweat, pressing down his heat onto yours as he gently embraces you, and you welcome him with your arms wrapped around his body.

It takes a few more minutes before your bodies finally settle into a state of calmness, and then a few more until you are both cleaned of all the mess that had been created, until you feel less icky about yourself just enough to let him take you back in his arms.

“I thought you said you had to go home,” you whisper into the silence that surrounds you as he holds you from behind. His bare chest is pressing against your back, bare skin against bare skin, with your hearts beating together in a steady rhythm.

“I am home,” he says, his voice sounds so soft, yet you can feel it piercing through your chest. Just when you open your mouth, ready to question his change of heart, he gently turns you over so you are now lying on your sides, facing each other. His lips are lifted to a slow smile, only moments before he leans closer to kiss your lips and steal your words away. “I’m right where I want to be. This is where I belong.”

Tears are threatening to fall down your cheeks as a wave of emotions come surging through your chest. But you close your eyes and lean into his embrace, basking in the warmth that he is offering you to continue reminding yourself that this is not a dream.

Still, reality is quick to sink in once silence falls. No matter how hard you want to deny it, the safety of this comfortable bubble that you have created with him can only be temporary. Outside, the world will continue to revolve and the reality of your circumstances that is slowly forcing its way in is starting to press down on you. Sooner or later, you will have to return to face the real world and wake up from this dream.

“People will start looking for you,” you whisper to him despite not wanting to.

Because that was how it happened. How your secrets unraveled and your sins came to light. When his disappearances were questioned, and people kept finding the shadow of your presence everywhere around him when he returned—the sweet and spicy perfume that was not his yet somehow lingered on his clothes, the trinkets that would somehow find their way into his things, the songs that he never listened to before but he enjoyed because you would play them to welcome your bright mornings. Once your sins were uncovered, you were left with no other choice but to end everything, sending him back to his original path while you continued to find yours.

“Let them,” he says, though you can already sense that he is wavering. Doubt creeps into your thoughts when you catch the dark look in his eyes. A dark look of uncertainty that seems so daunting. It pinches at a deep part of your heart when you can already feel him pulling away, not because he is intentionally doing it, but because the world is trying to pull him back into the path that he briefly stepped out of in order to spend this short moment with you.

You close your eyes, silently preparing yourself and your delicate heart to face reality. It would be one of the hardest things that you would have to do in life, especially after experiencing the bliss of being brought back to life and to indulge in his love which is completely forbidden for you to take. But it would be the right thing for you to do.

You need to let him go.

It takes almost an hour later before you finally find the will to peel yourself off of him and convince him to return home. Back to the life that he has built without you. The life that he has with another who is more deserving of his love.

He almost seems to be dragging his feet as he makes his way to the door of your apartment, while it almost seems to you that your mind and body are separated as you join him. No matter what you keep telling yourself, this night no longer feels real to you, even if you can still feel the ghost of his touches on your skin that is still completely bare under the robe that you are wearing. You can also breathe in the scent of his cologne that is clinging on your body. You lift your head to watch him, and your heartbeat dips when you realise that you are sending him home with traces of your sinful tryst tonight all over him.

The shirt that he wore tonight seems a bit crumpled on the sides, right where you gave it a good grip when you were helping him strip out of it. There are some buttons that are still unlatched on the front, while the bottom hem of his shirt is left untucked from his pants on the back. The subtle note of your perfume seems to waft as he walks, clinging somewhere either on his shirt or on his body together with the musky scent that belongs to him. Your gaze follows his hand as he moves to carry his jacket over his broad shoulder, the collars hooked on his long fingers—the same fingers that he used to touch the most delicate part of your body—with an ease that fits together with the pure confidence that he often wears on his skin. You continue looking up his full height, and notice the unruly hair on the top of his head which he has opted not to touch and fix on his way out for his own selfish reasons.

“Because there are trails and evidence of your touch here and I don’t want to erase it. Not this soon.”

You take an inhale of breath and swallow hard at the words that he gave you when you questioned it. There is a lot to unpack from his words, and you only have a little time left with him to waste on trying to understand what he meant by it.

Too soon, you are standing at the door—with you remaining inside the threshold, hiding one shaking hand in the side pocket of your robe and the other by holding tightly on the door knob, and he is standing on the other side of the doorframe, already a step further away to get out of your life and returning to his own. You hold your gaze on him for a moment too long, giving in to your desire and selfish wish to commit this moment deep in your memory, to be able to remember his entire being so you can cherish the memory of this night during your lonely nights alone.

“I guess this is it?” he asks you when you fall silent, unable to find your own voice to speak.

You open your mouth to respond, ready to say goodbye. But the words hang on the tip of your tongue when a lump grows in your throat as you try to say those words out loud. You have expected that it would be painful to say it, to see him leave after bidding goodbyes. Yet you still cannot bare the pain.

Because you clearly still remember how it was like back then to feel it.

Namjoon must have caught on to this when you clam up and try to avoid his gaze, because the look in his eyes softens and he carefully takes a step closer to return to you.

As you try to look away, he cups your face with his big palms so you would look up to him. “I’ll come back for you. I promise,” he says. His voice sounds so deep that you can feel all the emotions that he is putting into his words.

His promise feels so heavy on you, yet so pleasant, that you drop your chin and look down to hide your bitter smile. “I remember when you made that same promise once,” you whisper softly to him, though still loud enough for him to hear.

You look up again just to see him looking back at you with his kind eyes and his gentle smile, everything about him that shows how pure his soul truly is. Tonight, that smile of his appears to you sweeter than ever, especially when he reminds you of the past once more when he says, “Then you should remember that I kept it.”

You do remember. Because that had been the start of everything. When he showed up at your place to keep the promise that he had given to you and he made you a sinner.

Goodbye is too painful of a word for you to speak, so you choose to say something else. Something that is less painful, and holds a bit more hope than it should.

“Goodnight,” you whisper with a broken smile. “And thank you.”

You choose to not finish the sentence, keeping the words that you want so badly to say to him for yourself as you close the door, drawing the line between the two of you as you send him back to where he truly belongs.

Thank you for coming back into my life. Even if you cannot stay.

Every time I had to let you go and watch as you return to your life, my heart would always feel heavy. I would listen to my guts as they told me that it was going to be the last time that I was able to see you, and I would prepare myself for the hurt that might follow. But every time you left, you kept promising that you would return. And every single time, you kept that promise. Always coming back to me when I was prepared to live a life without you in it. Sometimes I wonder…what would our lives be if you had never kept those promises you gave me. Sometimes a part of me even wished that you hadn’t kept them. Because things would have been so much easier if you had just forgotten about those secret pledges you had given me. Things might have been much easier for me if you had lied and purposely hurt me from the start. Maybe I would have been able to leave sooner. Maybe then…I wouldn’t have been falling in love with you more and more, or let myself be swooned by all the expectation and hope that you helped plant inside this silly little heart of mine.

Namjoon kept his words.

Within a few days, he returns. The evening had just fallen when he comes knocking at your door, surprising you with a jolt rising inside your chest when you see him standing there, with an easy smile on his face as if he has no care in the world. As if he is not supposed to be somewhere else other than here.

“You…came,” you whisper in your shock, drawing his smile to grow wider.

“Didn’t I promise you that I would?” Namjoon asks you with a tease in his words. But the moment he takes in the look you are giving him, seeing no smile or joy but finding a hint of your apprehensiveness in their place instead, his smile slowly fades. It shouldn’t surprise you that he is still capable of reading your emotions. A look of genuine concern and sadness fills his gaze when he, no doubt, can see the look of relief and astonishment in your eyes for seeing him. As if you had expected that he would never come back.

“You still don’t believe me,” he murmurs gently with a mixture of surprise and sorrow flashing across his gorgeous face.

“I just—” you try to answer with a soft voice. A resigning sigh escapes you when you explain your feelings to him with the only way you could, “It’s hard.”

Not too surprisingly, he only responds to you with a nod. “I understand,” he says, as if he truly knows exactly how you feel. That he truly understands how hard it would be for you to allow yourself to hope. To allow yourself be vulnerable when there is a risk of you getting hurt again like before.

The grip that you have on the door handle tightens. It would make sense if you close the door right now instead of welcoming him back in. This thought had crossed your mind for the past few nights, as you tried to picture every possible scenario you could think of about how you would react should he ever keep his words and return to see you, or if he never shows up again at all. You had thought of all the choices that you would have to make—whether you are to let him back in or to say goodbye, to forget about your chance encounter and continue living as if the magical night when you were reunited never happened. And each time, you promised yourself that you would do the right thing this time around. To not repeat the same mistake you did then when you were younger and you chose to give in to what your heart desired.

But here he is now, standing right in front of your door to return to you—as promised. It only takes you looking deep into his eyes, to see the familiar gentleness in his gaze that is enough to have your resolve waning.

Pressing your tongue on the inside of your cheek, you mull over your choices. Everything within you keeps telling you not to cross the line. Not again. And you have the chance to make things right this time.

“Have you had dinner yet?” you find yourself asking. That is not what you were about to ask him. But you regret nothing when a smile grows on his face. And you are definitely not thinking about the other life that he is stepping out of as you step aside, allowing him to step back into yours.

Even when you are apart, your lives would always intertwine.

And the moment you are together, the connection that you have between you doesn’t spark. It detonates like fireworks blasting in the dark night sky above.

Dinner was a swift affair. You were in the middle of cooking your meal when Namjoon came knocking at your door. As if you already had an inkling that someone else would be joining you for dinner, you had been cooking for two, enough for you to share the meal with him as you sat down together at the kitchen counter.

Casual moments like what you just had tonight—one that is as simple as having homemade dinner at home with light conversations and a glass of wine on the side—had become a huge part of your memories that you cherished, because they never lasted as long as you wanted them to. Things had always been so quick to escalate when you were spending time with him, and anything that started simple and innocent would always end up becoming a fiery affair.

And that is exactly what is happening between you tonight.

In the past, you simply believed that it all happened only because you both realised, deep down, that your affair had an expiration date, and you simply wanted to make the most of it by sharing your passion and love in the nights that you shared together. You even made yourself believe that it was nothing more but a part of your dynamics that had once helped make things work between the both of you. That it was the reason why your relationship lasted the way it did even when you had to constantly remain in the shadows, hidden from the world.

Tonight, as you once again fall into the same pattern as before, as you find yourself giving in to that dark temptation after spending merely a short amount of time alone with Namjoon, you realise that there had been more to it.

There is tension that has always been there when you are together. Always so intense, always so palpable that it would be impossible for it to be ignored. Once it is there, it wouldn’t take long before the two of you are immersed in each other’s arms, as you give in to your carnal desire and allow yourself to drown in your sin. And there is also the strong connection that you feel with him which intensifies everything you feel when you are with him. A connection that has never been diminished by the passing time. All it would take is for one of you to snap, and every bit of that comforting casualness fades and the wave of wanton desire would immediately take root. Just like what just happened merely minutes ago.

Once the relaxing moment you shared at dinner, which allowed you to pretend that you were just like any other—normal—couple, you now find yourself entangled in another passionate, extremely heated exchange. All because Namjoon made the casual remarks about what happened the last time he was here—bringing up all the things you did with him right atop the kitchen counter—and shared his wish about wanting to lie you down on the cold surface this time as he savours his dessert.

The comment he made snapped you out of your resolve, sending you jumping out of your chair to join him in his. Your legs are spread on either side of him as you rest on his lap. You can feel the semi-hard cock that still manages to poke against you from under his pants when you press your body against him. His strong and broad chest feels like a wall of muscles under your fingertips as you press into them through the thin shirt that he is wearing.

“I really think I’m liking this position right here,” Namjoon says with a groan. There is something that lingers in his gaze as he looks up at you. It makes you feel completely exposed, as if he can see through the fabric of your clothes—the tank-top and shorts that you had put on for a leisure evening before he came—and see nothing but bare skin. At the same time, you also feel treasured, when his perusing gaze feels like gentle fingers tracing every inch of your skin instead of making you feel as if he is simply stripping you down with his eyes.

It makes you feel a myriad of emotions through your chest—some that makes you feel hot with new desire and the need to touch him further, and some that may bring tears in your eyes from how deeply he makes you feel.

There is too much to unpack with just a single glance, so you decide to delve into the one emotion that you know so well. The need that seems to only grow more intense as he runs his gaze down your body and his strong palms come down to cup your covered ass. You start grinding your hips down on him, feeling his erection that you can feel growing under the restraint of his pants. The absolute ache in your core intensifies, and you rock harder above him, enough for him to feel your softness. His head falls back as he groans, while his palms are pressing on you and his fingers are digging into your soft bottom cheeks as he guides your rocking.

“This is”—you moan into his neck when the pleasure you are feeling is accompanied by a sharp pain as your knees come in contact with the wooden backrest on his chair—”awfully uncomfortable.”

The soft chuckle that he releases sounds strained, as if he is already on the edge and he is trying to hold it back. “Should we take this to your comfortable bed?”

Despite agreeing to his valid suggestion, you despise the thought of having to stop and peel yourself away from him. Not when all the rocking and grinding are starting to ease the ache that you feel in your core, replacing it with a steady pulse of pleasure. “Moving only means that I have to stop touching you,” you say with a whine. You barely recognise your own voice as a moan slips out of you the moment you feel his covered bulge rubbing your clit.

“Not necessarily,” he once again chuckles, and then he presses his lips on yours as he jerks you closer to his chest. He briefly captures your gasp with his kiss and pulls back once you no longer feel tense to whisper, “Wrap your legs and arms around me.”

Namjoon’s voice sounds gentle, yet it also sounds commanding, that you immediately move to follow his orders. You wrap your arms around his neck as he scoots forward on his seat and your ankles join at his back to cling onto him. The look of appreciation that he gives you as a reward is more than enough to make you feel good about yourself.

“Good girl. Hold on to me tightly and try not to let go until I tell you so,” he praises you with pride lingering in his words, and that feeling escalates into something more. Something new and unbelievably pleasant that you feel some warmth growing in separate places—from your chest and down to the place that is now wet and soiled after rubbing on him so wantonly like an animal in heat.

His grip on your hips and bottom cheeks tightens, and he takes you with him as he rises from his seat. He does it with so much ease that it makes you feel like you are floating in the air. You don’t even feel any fear of falling, knowing that you can fully trust him to keep you from falling on your butt.

As Namjoon gently carries you to your bed, you start to notice more tidbits about him that you missed from the last time you spent the night together. You had noticed then how his body has changed. His body that used to appear almost lanky in his full height has now been filled with more muscles, making his shoulders and chest seem wider, broader, stronger, and his arms that appear more toned as they flex under your weight while he is carrying you away to your bed.

As he gently drops you on top of your messy sheets—you did lie down on them earlier right after coming back from work—you run your fingers down his shoulders to his biceps, taking hold for a brief moment before letting him go as you fall on your back. He steps back, taking you in with his perusing gaze the same way he had done it before.

The sound of his deep sigh pierces through the tense air. It fills both the quiet room and the cavity in your chest. It keeps you under an invincible restraint as he continues to hold his gaze on you while he begins stripping out of his clothes. The sight of him peeling his shirt and pants down feels cathartic. Like a piece of your dream is manifesting right before your eyes. What had filled your lonely nights had been nothing but a mirage, while he is truly here at this moment, with his true presence that you can feel even without touching him.

It isn’t until he is kicking down his boxer, relieving his semi-erection from its last restraint when you finally feel the urge to move. Your hands itch, feeling the need to touch him, to stroke him until his cock grows to its fullest size and then take him in your mouth. A grin rises on the corner of his lips when you lick your lips, unable to contain yourself, and he seems to get a gist of where your mind is wandering off to. But just when you expect to hear him bring it up and tease you, the only thing that comes out of his sexy mouth is, “You are so goddamn beautiful.”

Your eyes grow wide. That is certainly not what you expected to hear. Yet his words are still enough to bring the flush on your cheeks right back, and that warmth you felt earlier comes back in multitude of places within you.

Including the void deep within your pussy.

“Let me see you, baby. Strip down for me.”

Your eyebrows are lifted. Once again, you are caught off guard when he does what is least expected as he remains standing there, gloriously naked with his cock almost fully erected and the delectable ridges of his toned torso is all open for you to gawk at.

Pushing yourself up, you slowly come up to your knees. Locking your gaze on his, you continue to move, reaching down to the hem of your tank-top and pulling it up, revealing to him the lack of underthings covering your skin when your breasts are freed. You can only hear the sound of his sharp inhale of breath when you are pulling the tank-top over your head, obscuring your view. But once the fabric is gone, you are met with the sight of his dark gaze. His hunger licks on your skin. His cock twitches, slowly growing hard just by seeing you half naked.

Without a word, you hook your fingers around the waistband of your shorts and start sliding it down your thighs. It falls on your knees, and you fall back so you can kick it all the way down to your ankles.

That is when he finally moves again. He reaches out to pull those shorts off of you and flings it away. His hands quickly return to you, brushing your skin gently starting from your ankles, tracing up to your calves with an excruciatingly slow pace which makes you feel tingles rising all over your body and not just the places that he is touching. By the time he reaches your thighs, your legs are quivering, almost as intensely as the thrums of your heartbeat.

He continues going up, sliding his fingers around the apex of your thighs and reaching to the center. He grazes his fingertips over your panties and sucks a deep breath. His voice comes out to a near growl when he murmurs, “You’re so wet already. I can feel it from here.”

He draws a moan from your lips when he presses down at your slit, coaxing more dampness to soil your cotton panties. Then a cry slips out of you when he touches your covered clit, rubbing on it until your hips are raised, meeting up his touch with the need to have more.

The pleasure rises, and he suddenly stops before you can get there. He pulls away from you, and before you can even start protesting the loss of his touch, he moves his hands up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts easing them down your legs.

“Beautiful,” he whispers once you are left with nothing else on. Nothing but your bare skin and the warm flush of lust running through your veins. “Absolutely stunning,” he continues with a shaky voice, as if his words are weighed down with both his pure desire and the deep emotion that is taking over him.

Lost in his gaze, you resist every urge that you are feeling to shield yourself away. You hide nothing as you bare yourself to him—your body, your heart, your soul—the way you never had before. Despite this, even when you are diving into this willingly, with your heart and mind completely open, it doesn’t stop you from trembling as you lie beneath him the moment he climbs up the bed and slowly crawls his way over you. His gaze finds yours, and it feels like something simply snaps into place. As if everything is suddenly right again, and you are finally right where you belong.

“This is where I belong.”

His words from the other day return to you as you briefly close your eyes. Despite the certainty that you could hear through his comment, your mind has been filled with your own denial, still refusing the chance to hope. One look is all it takes for you to feel the walls and the stubborn denial crumbling, when you find nothing more but sincerity and something else that is deeper than his dark passion coming out of his beautiful eyes.

With your hands back on his shoulders, you pull him down to you. His hard cock twitches between you once it comes in contact with your hot pussy, but you focus on drawing his mouth on yours. And your mouths clash into a deep, hungry kiss, leaving you breathless while your entire body seems to burn in the heat of the moment.

His strong hands come back down, opening your legs for him with his tight grip on each thigh. Namjoon slowly rocks over you once he is settled nicely against you, brushing his cock against your hot slit, over and over again, with the dampness from your pussy making it easier for him to move. His cock feels slick as he grinds against you, and you know that he can feel the slickness that has reached down to the inner side of your thighs.

Each stroke of his length against your slit makes your body tremble. Each time the head of his cock brushes against your clit, a strangled cry slips out of your lips. Once he falls into a steady pace, your hips begin to rock together with his. Your inner walls contract, needing to be filled, and you find no shame in expressing what you need as you break away from the kiss and run your hands down to cup his strong and ample buttocks, pressing him into you to show him what you want before you say it out loud.

“I need you—” your voice breaks out into a soft gasp when he pushes himself up and cups your breast, only keeping one hand to prop himself up.

“Yes, tell me what you need.”

“You,” you gasp. “I need you. Inside me. Now.”

With a grin on his face, Namjoon continues rocking and begins playing with your nipple. A gentle brush of his fingers brings your chest to rise. A pinch around the nub draws the sound of your sharp cry, and it almost feels like you are gushing right beneath your legs to the sensations he is bringing to your body.

“Say the magic word,” he teases with a groan. “Say ‘please’.”

You give him a dirty look at his silly command, only to quickly yield when he begins to pull away, causing the flutters in your pussy to intensify. An immediate reaction that your body is giving you to remind you of what it needs. That you will not be able to rest until your needs are sated.

“Please, Namjoon,” you finally start begging him, giving in to what is most important to you right now. Because you also know that your body isn’t the only thing that needs him. “Please, fuck me. Take me. Make love to me. I need you so—”

The moment you begin begging him, giving him what he had asked of you, Namjoon has already started moving. His hips are lifted. His hand is between your bodies, reaching down to find your clit. It is his touch that steals the words right out of your mouth when he presses his thumb and forefinger on your rosebud, pinching it lightly before slowly rubbing it to ease the pain.

As he watches you responding to his touch—with your head falling back onto the pillows, your hips arching to embrace both pain and pleasure, and your moan growing louder—he pulls his hand away from you and wraps his palm around his shaft. Keeping his eyes on your face, he gives himself a few strokes before guiding the hard tip of his cock at your wet entrance.

The wet tip dips in, and Namjoon comes to halt, remaining still for a moment until the intense pulses rushing through both of your bodies start to wane. “Since you asked me so nicely,” he says with a cocky grin on his face, “I am more than pleased to give you exactly what you wanted.”

Your mouth falls open, yet you cannot remember if you were planning to answer him or if you are simply giving him a silent cry as he pushes his way in. Your pussy walls break to a spasm as he glides deeper, moving in one inch and pulling back, then returning to get another inch deeper. He repeats the motion a few more times until you are adjusted to his size, until your pussy is more welcoming, allowing him to slide in to the hilt.

Your hips rise once again to meet him as he gives you the final thrust that puts him all the way in until there is nowhere left for him to go. This time, he doesn’t wait. He doesn’t linger, even when you can hear the sounds that he is making as the rush of pleasure goes through his body. Even his head has fallen back. His eyes are fluttering close for a brief moment, yet they quickly open to find yours again when he begins rocking his hips.

A shuddering gasp is drawn from you from the delicious way his cock is brushing against your pulsing walls. Sliding in and out, he makes you feel all the burning sensation again, over and over, and you can feel him slowly picking up his pace once pleasure takes over.

Every jerk of his hips becomes sturdier as he continues moving. Each thrust feels maddening, the way it wakes all the rush of pleasure, the delectable bliss that rises like subtle waves. Each gentle touch from his wandering hands bring everything together to a notch, even when he reaches up, pressing his firm hands on your breasts that have been rocking and shaking as your bodies rock together in the same intense rhythm.

And you take in everything. Always with your eyes open, refusing to deny yourself the glorious sight of him embracing his pleasure. Always with your hands touching his arms, his shoulders, sinking into his back. When the wave of your climax hits, there is nothing that can stop it from coming. It engulfs you like a massive ripple taking you down to the depth of the ocean and plummeting you to the ground at the same time.

Your entire body quivers, shaking in its release. The sound of your moans and cries bounce against the walls, and they are quickly joined by the sharp cry that he releases as he falls into his own release, pushed over to the edge by your blinding orgasm.

The feeling that washes over you in your climax is deeper than content. It fills you with warmth, not only deep below as he fills you with the essence of his release, but also deep in your chest, where you are filled with love and compassion that are deeper than the wanton desire that you share.

Because in your climax, the desire that has been running through your body is not the only thing that it fulfils. In your release, your souls are intertwined together, joining the two of you—two hearts, two bodies, two souls—into one.

Have you ever noticed how quickly time would pass whenever we were together? Maybe that had been the reason why it never felt enough, when it seemed like we had just gone through a blip, and all of a sudden, our time was up. Suddenly, I was forced to see you go. For you to go back to the one you had promised your heart to first. I have gone back to those moments I shared with you, over and over again, holding onto them tightly because memories are all that I have been allowed to keep from you. There had been many, many memories that we created together, yet they were still not enough. Am I too greedy? For wishing that we could’ve gotten more? Or am I too selfish? Too dumb? For believing that I deserve to have more of you? To be able to keep you as a whole instead of just fleeting memories that would one day be replaced with new ones? Was that the real reason why it was so hard for me to move on? When nobody that I ever met after you could never hold the candle when compared to you. They could never compare. Because all I ever wanted was you.

Unlike the last time you had to see him walk out the door and was made to wait for a few days until he finally returned to you, Namjoon hasn’t made you wait again for the past two weeks since his return.

Every night, he has been coming back to you. You should have been questioning it. To wonder why he has been making it so easy to choose where he would sleep at night when you have been a complete nervous-wreck each time, haunted by the thought that things would suddenly start crumbling down without you ever having enough strength to stop it from happening. Haunted by the pain that you would have to endure once he slips away from your life once again.

But after what happened the last time you talked about it, when you reminded him that he still had a different home to come back to, fear and uncertainty continue to torment you.

What if the moment you question him about it, he suddenly has a change of heart? Then he would change his mind, finally realising that he was never supposed to be here with you from the beginning and to start thinking that everything has been nothing but a huge mistake.

What if the next time you would have to watch him walk out that door, it would be the time when you finally witness him walking out of your life? That he is never going to return, leaving only the shadow of his presence in your home?

That is why you have chosen to keep all of those questions to yourself. To bury all the doubt and allow everything to fall into its course. You admit that you are being selfish about this, but you still want to enjoy the time that you have together where you get to hold him in your sleep and wake up to his smile the next morning.

And just like that, time continues to pass. Each night has always been followed by a gloomy morning after where you would have to part ways with him as both of you must face real life responsibilities. Every day, you would be wondering if that morning was going to be the last time you would ever see him again. But each night, he would always come knocking at your door, ridding every bit of doubt that you ever have as he returns to you, always with a smile that makes it seem like it is a normal thing for him to be here with you.

And Namjoon continues to do so each and every day, keeping his promises to come back into your arms until the days blend into weeks.

Two weeks. When the realisation dawns on you of how much time has quickly passed, you wonder how it is possible for you to feel as if the days simply blurred together, making you believe that all you had done so far is to blink, and time simply went away. But you know that it is not true. It shouldn’t be making you feel vulnerable, continuously haunted by the fear that your story with him will be cut short—just like how it did back then—just when you believe that everything would be different this time.

Each night, you always close your eyes with a feeling of acceptance. Always with your heart prepared and your eyes half-opened just so you wouldn’t fall back on your butt once the rug is pulled right under your feet and things would have to return to the way they were. When it would be time for both of you to return to your own paths.

You take what you can for now, to cherish all the fleeting moments that you have with him, because you know that time has never truly been on your side.

You reach out to search for him in the dark of the night.

Your chest feels hollow when you suddenly anticipate finding an empty bed, with only his warmth and the scent of his cologne left behind after he slipped away without saying goodbye—just like what you had once experienced in the past. But your breath is caught when instead of finding cold, messy sheets when you stretch out your hand, you find his warm skin under your fingertips. The steady thrums of his heartbeat can be felt under your touch, letting you know that he is still there.

That his presence is real.

“Why are you not sleeping?” Namjoon’s deep and hoarse voice breaks through the silence. His voice is still heavy with sleep, and you can still sense his exhaustion when he shifts under your touch. Guilt immediately overcomes you when you realise that he was probably awakened by your movements, as Namjoon has always been quite a light sleeper. And it is making you feel more guilty when you remember that he needs to have good rest tonight more than ever, knowing that today has been quite rough on him.

You could easily tell that he was having a hard time the moment he walked into your home tonight. With his shoulders slumped forward, his gaze that looked dull even when he tried to force a smile when he first saw you, it was unmistakable how drained he seemed to be both mentally and physically. And that was before he started stumbling in his steps as he entered your home that you had to catch him before he could fall on the floor of your dining room.

You had wondered what might have happened during the day while he was gone, when his lively self that you saw in the morning had returned to you looking despondent and defeated. Despite your curiosity, you forced yourself to bite your tongue and kept your questions to yourself when he said nothing about it. All you could do was to help him relax and get his mind off of it, while hoping that he would eventually share his troubles with you once he was ready.

It took quite an effort, yet you finally excelled in helping to ease his mind by going down on your knees and taking him deep in your mouth. Each lick of your tongue around the head of his cock and each brush of your lips across his length washed away every distress that he had, taking them away bit by bit until he was moaning in his pleasure. But it wasn’t until he came to a climax—with his hands clutching your hair tightly as he kept your head in place so he could thrust his cock so deep that he was hitting deep into your throat, and his cum landing on your tongue, filling your mouth, then slipping down your throat—before the tension in his body finally faded away completely.

Then you both went straight to bed, calling it a night after the long day that you both had. Finding cure through the warmth that you shared while being in each other’s arms, you had fallen asleep with the hope that both of you would be able to forget about all the troubles that you met through the day and be ready for the new day tomorrow.

But it is when the silence gets so deep when dark thoughts return to you. They start getting into your head, pulling you out of your relaxing slumber for you to wake up far too soon with an unsettling feeling lingering in your chest. It feels to you now like an invisible weight pressing down on you, making it hard for you to even breathe.

Thoughts about him disappearing in the night and leaving you with a broken heart have been haunting you. They come to visit you in the night, tormenting you even when you have fallen asleep with his warm embrace engulfing you. Tonight, that tormenting feeling seems to rise within you even stronger, bringing back the doubt that clings in your soul like a forlorn hope each time you are reminded of the anguished look that he wore when he first came home to you.

But as you manage to find the glint in his eyes through the dark, you know that you wouldn’t be able to tell him all of this. Not in the way that would only burden him with your insecurities while he is already dealing with a lot of things on his own. So you simply reach up and place a palm on his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your cold hand as you turn his face to look at you.

“Have I told you that I’ve been having dreams?”

The question that slips out of you—completely unbidden—has him raising his eyebrows. “No, I don’t remember that you have. What kind of dreams?” Namjoon curiously asks you, looking genuine as always to know more about what is going through your head.

Your lips lift to a small smile as you think deeply about it. “It’s odd, really. Before we met again, I would always have wonderful dreams. They mostly involved you and I’d wake up the next morning regretting that they hadn’t been real,” you share with him with a soft voice. Looking back to it now, you can barely remember what actually happened in those dreams after seeing him in them. As now that he is truly here, those dreams have been quickly replaced by memories. New memories that you are building together with him. Which only brings you to wonder, “but now that you’re here, and I’d get nightmares—”

You stop for a brief moment. Your eyebrows are lowered as you recall the short dreams that you have been having lately. The dreams that seem ominous, and they haunt you even during the day when the fear of losing him suddenly manifests out of thin air. “Like how I’d dream about watching you go or waking up at night and realising that I’m all alone in my bed, just like I had been before you came back into my life.”

With a soft sigh, Namjoon touches your chin with his gentle fingers and guides you to look at him. “I’m here. You can feel me being here, don’t you?” he asks you as he brings one of your hands to his chest, pressing it against his heartbeat.

Closing your eyes, you press against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat with your palms so you can savour it. It brings a smile to your face when you feel it quickening under your touch. “Yes, you’re here. You’re real,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Then he brings your hand to his lips to kiss, silently asking you to open your eyes again.

“Maybe—” he whispers to you while clasping your hand, “I can show you just how real I am.”

His words become the final warning as Namjoon captures your lips, kissing you slowly, tenderly, allowing you to feel him. Your body relaxes under his. Your head falls against the pillows. Warmth pours through your body as you move your hand to the back of his neck to get him to kiss you deeper. Then he shifts on the bed, sliding closer to your body under the blanket, and you get to feel quite a bit more of him.

You pull away from the kiss with a gasp, and he yanks the blanket off of his body, baring his bare skin for your eyes to see. Even in the darkness, you can still see the hard lines of his cock. Even when it is hardly grown to its full width, its solid girth stands at attention under your gaze. After all the years you spent touching him, learning all the ridges and veins on his body with the touch of your fingers, and then going back to those memories again by relearning everything about his body during the recent time that you have been spending with him, you can almost see it clearly without the need of light helping you see everything. The muted glow of moonlight mixed with the city lights filtering through the window also come to play when he moves closer, as they help you see the glistening bead of pre-cum that appears on the head of his cock, slipping out of him as it subtly throbs the more you give it attention. It makes your pussy wet just to see it, your hot walls clenching on the inside, while your mouth waters with the urge to have another taste.

No words are shared as you climb on top of him to straddle his waist. Despite feeling confidence at first, you start feeling off-balance once you sit down on him. Moving in the dark while being taken over by lust might be the reason why, so you place your hands on the pillows right on either side of his head to keep yourself up. With your upper body practically hovering above him and not a single fabric left on to cover your skin, your breasts hang over his face. This brings the look of hunger through his eyes that seems to glow in the dark. You can feel it transpiring from him before he lifts his hands to touch you.

“Oh, yes. This position has definitely become my favourite one so far,” Namjoon says with a whisper that fades to a groan as he cups your bare breasts. He does it with tenderness at first, bringing all the shivers in your body until you relax into his touch. Then he starts squeezing them, pressing them hard enough until it hurts in the most pleasant kind of way which draws a moan from your lips.

That pleasant feeling rises from your core, sending your hips swivelling above him. Your body quivers when the head of his cock brushes against your clit, then he intensifies it further as he lifts your breasts and captures one of your hardened nipples into his sinful mouth.

“Ah—fuck,” you moan at the sensation that he is bringing into your body as he sucks, and licks, and swirls his tongue around your hardening nub. Your head falls back, yet you also feel as if you are getting fully awakened as you continue moving and rocking over him, brushing your hot slit along the length of his cock.

He releases your nipple with a pop of his lips and groans at the pleasure that he is feeling. Lifting his hips, he lets you feel the firm press of his erection when he murmurs, “I want to be inside you.”

With a gasp, you open your eyes to see him. The dark hunger that you saw earlier has been taken over with another. A look that shows more passion and a deeper kind of lust that encourages you to make a move. Licking your lips, you reach down between your legs, finding his hard cock that feels heavy in your palm. You keep your eyes on him as you lift your hips and position the tip of his cock at your hot entrance. Slowly, you start lowering yourself back onto his lap. The thick head of his cock parts your tight opening, teasing and coaxing you with its width. His hands are gripping tightly on your hips as he guides you to sit down on him. Your body trembles as you take him in, taking inch by hard inch of his length until he is fully seated inside you.

“Is this…oh, fuck!”—you hisses when the tip of his cock comes brushing against your pulsing walls—”is this okay?”

“Perfect,” he hisses right back, just as you let out a moan at the throbbing pleasure now rising inside you. His eyes flutter open once he feels your pussy taking him deeper. Keeping his hands on your hips, he smiles to you and says, “Take what you need from me, baby. I’m here for you.”

There is something in his words that pinches at your chest, but you simply ignore it. The only thing that matters now is that you need him, and you need to relish all the pleasure that he is offering to give you. Once the burst of pleasure that you feel from him being inside you wanes into a series of muted spasms, you start to move. You begin riding his cock, starting slow until you are better adjusted to his size, before finally picking up into a pace that sends you into a delirium, where you are sent into the height of pleasure that you can only ever gain from him.

“Keep going, baby,” he urges. His head falls back with a groan coming out of his lips when you follow his guide, doing it exactly how he likes it as you rise and fall onto his cock. “Yes, keep doing it like that. Just like that.”

Seeing his reactions and hearing his words excite you even more. It pushes you into becoming more wanton in your action, encouraging you further to give in to your needs and to please him while you chase your own release.

The resounding climax comes soon enough. Just when your thighs are beginning to burn and shake in each firm stroke of his cock into your depth. The sound of his deep groan that comes through his lips as the first wave of your orgasm flutters around his cock becomes the final warning as he finds his release. His hold on your hips tightens, and he begins to buck his hips to meet your steady rocking. After a few thrusts, a few more steady strokes of his girth against your walls, he finally gives in to his needs and takes control. With a strained groan, he begins fucking into you with fervour, thrusting upward just as you come back down, each thrust keeps growing faster until you feel him getting more erratic in his movements. You open your eyes to see it happening as his face grows tense, right before you feel the warmth building up inside you as he comes.

Seeing the sight of him embracing his climax, hearing the sounds that he is making, and feeling him throbbing inside you as he is filling you with his warm release quickly pushes you towards your own. You fall onto his chest when your orgasm hits you like a wave. Starting from your core, it flows intensely within you and spreads down to your limbs that you can no longer hold yourself up.

And Namjoon gladly captures you in his arms, folding your body against his chest as he slowly turns to his side and gently helps you lie on your back before he pulls out. You immediately feel heavy with sleep the moment your head hits the pillows. Then your body sinks deeper into the sheets as Namjoon carefully pulls the blankets over your bodies. Once he is done tucking you back to sleep, Namjoon slides away from you. Yet he doesn’t leave you for too long, only rising to grab something to clean the mess on your bodies and on the sheets beneath you before he is back, gathering you in his arms again.

As if he wants to make sure that you can feel him even in your sleep.

Your eyes get heavier, until you no longer able to look at his face when he kisses the top of your head. “You did a good job, baby,” you vaguely hear his whisper as you are slowly drifting back to sleep, falling into a much calmer, more peaceful slumber.

The words that he gives you next help soothe both your body and soul, as he murmurs to you softly with simple words that work almost like a spell and a fragile promise to give, “Remember this moment. Think about this every chance you get. Until there are no more space for those nightmares to come in when you sleep at night. Even when I’m not here with you.”

On a different night, you wake up to him shifting on the bed, searching for you.

Namjoon hums softly as his hands find your waist in the dark. His fingers run down your skin as he gently turns you until you are lying on your back.

“Hmm—” you hum and mumble as you are slowly getting dragged out of your slumber. Your bedroom is dark, with nothing more but the glow of the moonlight permeating into the room through the open curtains. With the help of the muted light, you can see the silhouette of his face—the unmistakable sight of his strong jaw that takes form, the tip of his nose and his full lips, before you manage to find his eyes through your bleary eyes—as he hovers above you. His lips turn to a slow grin once he notices that your eyes are fluttering open.

“Did I wake you?” he whispers, “I wasn’t planning to, I promise.”

A lazy chuckle escapes you at how innocent he sounds. As if he is caught doing something that he shouldn’t. Something naughty, and he feels guilty for bothering you with it. Though the tone of his voice makes you wonder, “What are you trying to do?”

His grin deepens, and you can almost see the dent on his cheek—the dimple that you would usually touch when you are touching his face—taking form. “I’m suddenly feeling hungry. I was thinking about getting a midnight snack.”

You blink through the dark and lazily raise your hand to point towards the kitchen. “Hmm—you can find some cookies in the cupboard. Or cereal. I know you love your cereal, so I bought them for you when I went to buy groceries today.”

The sound of his low chuckle pierces through the dark. “Actually—” Namjoon dramatically sighs, making you even more curious. You force your eyes to open wider and look at him with your brows furrowed. “I was thinking about having a different kind of snack.”

It takes you a moment too long to understand what he is getting at. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep and have only slightly adjusted to the darkness around you that you can barely see him moving. But you can definitely feel the heat of his kiss as he presses his lips on your bare shoulder, and you can feel the bed dips when he begins crawling down, all while his hands come down to claim a gentle grip on your thighs, parting your legs open for him.

He draws the sound of your gasp when his warm breath falls on the apex of your thighs. The skin there is still soft and tender after taking his rough pounding after dinner—something that you can be sure he can still feel on his own skin because of the way you pinned him between your thighs while you were embracing your climax—so you jerk a little when you feel his lips brushing against it. Namjoon looks up before he does anything else, catching your gaze to ask, “You don’t mind, do you? I don’t think I can go back to sleep until I’m filled.”

Your heart flutters once you are starting to see where this is going. Yet the feeling that materialises deep within your core is not as as innocent as the reaction that is coming from your chest, when heat pulses and you get to feel something wet leaking from between your legs. Smiling at him, you prop yourself up on your elbows so you can get a good look of his face. “No, I don’t mind it at all,” you answer, already feeling your walls pulsing from anticipation.

“Good,” is the only thing that you can hear from him as he dips between your legs. He lowers himself further, almost sinking into the sheets as he starts kissing his way up from the inner sides of your thighs and all the way up to your folds. His hands are steady as they hold your thighs apart to keep you from closing them on his face, and his mouth expertly finds your nether lips even without any help from the lights.

“Oh, God,” you moan softly with your head falling back, your fingers sinking into the sheets. Every nerve within your body sparks alive, awakened from whatever state they were in while you were still deep in sleep as Namjoon begins working his mouth and tongue against your hot core. His jaw feels rough against the soft and tender skin of your thighs, and you are almost sure that you can feel the thin presence of his stubble which he rarely allows to grow thickly on his chin. His warm tongue feels delightful as he laps between your folds, licking away every drop of your arousal as he slides his way up and down your slit.

Namjoon lets out a soft, agreeing hum once he manages to find your swollen clit, which he quickly captures between his sinful mouth to give a light suck. The sharp gasp that you make from the rush urges him to continue. Alternating between working his mouth around your clit and slipping his tongue down your slit, he sends shock waves of pleasure through your body. It gets you crying out, moaning his name with ragged breaths as you ride the pleasure.

“Hmm—this is it,” he mumbles with his mouth still pressing at your folds. “I fucking love the way you taste, I can never get enough of it.”

His words are muffled once his mouth returns to your heat again. As the pleasure rises, your muscles tighten within you, coiling so fast towards your climax. Twisting the sheets under your hand, you reach down with the other and presses the back of his head deeper into you. A handful of his thick hair slips between your fingers and you give a clench, not enough to hurt, but enough to help you feel like you are still in control of yourself despite feeling like you are unraveling.

Soon, your breath quickens as your climax surges through your body in intense waves. Your toes curl into the sheets beneath you, while your hips jerk violently against his mouth, pressing down to chase it as it comes. His hold on you tightens as you writhe in your pleasure, keeping you down as he continues working his mouth to devour your release.

And he still doesn’t stop. Still not letting up even as the spasms of your climax slowly wane into a flutter.

You are only partly aware of the way you are moving, riding the waves of your orgasm with your hips rocking into his face. Your hand sinks deeper into his hair, nearly pulling at the strands as you press his head deeper, just as you are beginning to feel the pulses of pleasure rising back up again. You are teetering on the edge, yet your stubbornness takes over, unwilling to let it come to you so quickly when you had just earned your climax.

Something that he quickly notices, and he doesn’t let you get what you want so easily.

As your pussy walls are contracting with faint signs of another climax getting through you, and the sounds of your moans and your rough gasps blend together, he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. And he doesn’t stop until he finds the sweet spot that sends your pleasure soaring higher. High enough until your entire body quivers with it, your hips almost lifting while being taken over by the delirious bliss.

Noticing that he has found your weakness, he continues working his fingers, moving it in and out and pressing repeatedly on that very same spot which had drawn a reaction from you, and he keeps doing it in the same rhythm as his tongue. It makes you feel even more elated in your pleasure, until you finally reach your final breaking point and your second orgasm comes rolling through your body.

Your legs are shaking. Your heart is pounding so loudly that you can barely hear anything else but the sound of your ragged breathing. And you are unaware of his next movements as he slowly pulls away and begins climbing up, finding a new position as he hovers over your body.

With a sly grin, Namjoon licks his lips and uses the back of his hand to wipe off the rest of your essence that is coating his chin. “Delicious. Exactly what I needed,” he whispers as he moves on top of you. He presses his lips on yours, getting you to taste yourself through his tongue as he deepens it.

Still lost in the momentary bliss, you struggle to catch your breath. Yet your body seems to be entranced, when it reacts on its own the moment you feel his erection pressing on your legs and you readily open yourself to him, allowing him to return to your center where he settles into position, going back right to where he belongs.

A sigh comes out through your lips as he moves his lips from your mouth and down to your neck. He nips at your skin, drawing a sharp inhale of breath that comes out louder as he enters you. He starts moving, with deep and slow thrusts as if he wants to take his time with it this time instead of giving in to his wanton needs.

As the pleasure rises inside you, climbing at a slow and steady rhythm that feels comforting at the same time that he makes you feel euphoric, a new wave of emotions comes through your chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his hips as you unravel this new feeling that comes poking at your chest. And you continue that way, giving in to the delightful pleasure as you rock into him, meeting his slow thrusts with your rocking hips. Doing it over and over until it becomes so intense and the coil within your core snaps.

Tears drop to your cheeks as you succumb to your final orgasm, and you quickly bury your face on the crook of his neck before he can see yourself falling apart. In the height of your pleasure, you suddenly feel emotional, like a dam had just been broken inside you. Not only because of the euphoric feeling that is taking over you in your release, but also at the realisation that comes through your mind right after the blissful fog begins to subside and your mind is cleared enough for you to think.

Fear engulfs you when the reality of your circumstances finally dawns on you, when you realise that there is no possible way that you are going to be able to survive if he should ever decide to leave you again.

The first time I found myself in your arms and felt how easy it was to fall into your embrace, I simply thought I was dreaming. For the first time in my life, I felt how beautiful it was to fall in love, and to be so loved in return, and I never wanted it to end. And my prayers were heard, because you never left. Even when I was ready to let you go, you simply held me tightly in your arms and never let go. How was a girl not to fall in love so deeply when something like that happened? To have the only person that she dreamt about suddenly loving her back, giving her all the attention that she could only dream of? Whenever I would recall that night in my head, I would often wonder—what would have happened to us if that night never happened? Where would we be today? How would our story have played out, if only you never knew how I truly felt for you?

Eight years ago…

“What am I to do with you?” Namjoon whispered, breaking the silence that had been accompanying the two of you since the moment you sat down with him on the porch.

The student residential that you rented together with a few of your close friends from college had normally been quiet. But that had not been the case that night, and you had no other choice but to escape them by hiding on the dark, dimly-lit porch.

Keeping your eyes closed so you could feel him, you let out a soft giggle and asked, “Why? Am I so hard to handle?”

You could sense him smiling without having to see it when he answered, “Saying that would be an understatement.” He kissed the top of your head, and your heart soared. A content sigh slipped out of you as you wondered if this was just a dream. Because it felt too good to be true that you refused to believe that it was real. That he was giving you all the attention that you had craved and waited for for a long time.

Never once had you ever thought that you would be here at all. To be sitting by his side with his arm around your shoulders and your head resting against his chest. To be this close to him when you had only been able to watch him from afar before, let alone to be teasing each other like this.

His low chuckle stirred something deep in your heart. Because you loved how it sounded, and you loved how he made you feel when he did just that. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, before shifting on the seat and turning you in his arm so he could look at your face. “You know that you’ve been driving me crazy, don’t you? I never know what to do with you, especially when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” you asked him with a smile, though it wavered when you caught the sad look in his eyes. Almost as if he was feeling guilty.

Namjoon let out a sigh and briefly closed his eyes before saying, “Looking like you’ll cry if I try to pull away.”

Your heart ached upon hearing this. Because he was right. You did feel like you were about to cry. You often felt that way with him, mostly during moments like this one, when he was just about to leave you for the night. Watching him leave had always been torture, when it almost felt like a wake up call to see him walking away, reminding you of the reality that you kept denying to see to keep the dream life that you were living in with him. That night specifically, you felt like everything around you was slowly crumbling, that he felt so far away even when he was still there, holding you close to him.

Taking a deep breath, you breathed in his scent and his entire presence, and you were instantly brought back to the night he first took you in his arms. Back to the first time you ever felt his love.

Merely a couple of months had passed since the night of your confession.

It was the night that was supposed to have given you closure. A night where you were supposed to close a chapter of your life which you spent keeping your unrequited love a secret from the world.

Hearing the news of his upcoming graduation had been the catalyst for you to make that decision to finally put your truth out there. You had hoped that admitting all the feelings that you kept denying through the years would give you a sense of relief, a chance to be freed from the treacherous feeling that was deeply rooted inside your heart, and then you would be able to find a way to move on from him once the secret was out.

He was leaving anyway so it wouldn’t matter once he is gone away.

That was the silly logic that you kept in mind when you talked to him about it, when you finally told him everything in the final month he was to remain on campus.

“I’ve liked you for a long time. I tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder and harder to forget and deny how I felt when you kept being nice to me and you continued answering my calls. I’m not asking for anything, just for you to listen and to know that I’ve fallen for you. As silly as it sounds, but I do love you.”

There was no expectation on your part to what kind of response that you would be getting from him. At the very least, you had put aside all kinds of expectation in the first place, knowing that his heart belonged to someone else and there would never be a place for you in his life. The only thing that you expected was to feel relieved, which you successfully gained the moment the truth was out in the open. It felt freeing once you managed to put your emotions into words. It felt peaceful, that the moment you were done, you were able to look back at him with a smile on your face, and a resolved feeling that you were ready to let him go.

But Namjoon refused to let you go. His offer to take you home right after that encounter had unexpectedly escalated into something else, which finally became the beginning of your nefarious conduct which lasted for so long. It became the main reason why you were in his arms this very night as you clung to him almost desperately to feel his presence for the last time before you had to see him go.

Namjoon cupped your cheek gently with his palm as he looked deeply into your eyes. While you had no clue of what was going through his mind or what he was seeing in yours at the time, you had the sudden overwhelming feeling of fear. Because you already felt him slipping away from your grip, and even if you could still feel his warmth pressing against you, the distance that would start to grow between you became palpable.

And you felt helpless when you had no idea how to change that. It was already late at night and you could hear your housemates going about inside the house to end the evening, but you cared nothing of it. You felt as if you were inside this small bubble that felt comforting yet fragile, and you only had seconds before the bubble would crack and everything would be gone.

That he would be gone for good.

He was supposed to be leaving that week—actually leaving—and deep down, you could feel that the moment he left, that would be the end of it. And in his silence, you could almost feel that he was saying goodbye to you for good.

You had no idea what you were thinking then. Perhaps you weren’t thinking at all, and you had simply acted out of instinct. That would have been the perfect excuse for the indecent response that you gave to his innocent touch.

As his hand moved gently across your cheek, you turned your face and pressed your lips on his palm, kissing him softly. His breath was caught right then, as he never expected that you would have done something so intimate, yet so risky at the same time.

His next exhale of breath was trembling as he brushed his thumb across your lips. As if he wanted so badly to kiss you but was afraid that someone might come out of the house and witness it happening. Wanting the same thing, you did something else to make up for not being able to kiss him so openly while showing him what you had desired from him at the time. You kept your eyes on him as you slowly parted your lips, and took the tip of his thumb and started sucking it gently.

It was a simple act. Something that was so subtle. And yet, you could tell how much it was affecting him. The shudder that ran through his body was delicate and nearly muted, even more than your little act, but you could feel it through your body which was connected to his. Even if you weren’t able to feel it, his reaction was still visible to your eyes. Because you had spent years watching him, taking notes of his emotional clues and the expressions that he would make during various circumstances, and the dark look in his eyes was an unmistakable sign of his desire burning from the simple teasing act that you were doing to him.

You continued nibbling on his thumb and taking the digit into your lips just a knuckle deeper. Then you started sliding your lips back and forth, stopping briefly to slowly bite the tip and lick around it, until you heard the sound of his soft gasp and his eyes began fluttering to close when it got too much for him to handle. A soft groan came out of him and he tried to pull his hand away. His thumb slipped out of your lips, yet you caught his hand, placing your palm at the back of his wrist as you turned your face to start kissing his fingers.

His eyes never wavered as he watched you kissing his digits, doing it excruciatingly slow while keeping your eyes on him the whole time, allowing him to see your intention through your gaze. What you wanted from him was clear, yet you wanted him to see it for himself instead of having to say it out loud with your words. Exhaling a long, shaking breath, Namjoon licked his lips and once again brought his thumb to brush your lips, before intentionally pressing its tip between them and sliding it in once again so he could feel your tongue lapping across the skin.

“I really, really, have no idea what to do with you,” he whispered, and his voice trembled as he did his best to hold back from reacting more, yet you felt no remorse for making him feel this way. Before you could say a thing, he tightened his hold around your shoulders and moved his hand away from your lips to the nape of your neck. He played with the strands of your hair as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours. “You’re killing me, baby,” he whispered with a bitter chuckle. It sounded desperate, as if he was struggling so hard to fight against his restraint.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do with you,” you teased him with a whisper. Being this close, the urge to kiss him felt overwhelming, yet you held back and simply bit down your bottom lip before you could allow yourself to break all of your restraint and give in to temptation.

But then he threw all of your effort out the window when he suddenly offered, “Come with me.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him questioningly before asking, “Where?”

A smile appeared on his face, and the sadness and guilt that he showed you earlier faded into relief as he found a resolution that was going to change everything. “Away from here. I just—” he started to say, stopping himself when his own self-doubt came over him. He looked nervous as he made you this offer, as if he was expecting you to refuse when he asked again, “Please. Do you trust me?” You nodded, and he continued, “Will you come home with me?”

The answer came to you so easily, even without him having to convince you further. Because you were willing to follow him wherever he wanted to go, just as long as you could be together with him. “I’ll go anywhere you want me to,” you said to him, and his relieved smile became more visible.

No words were ever needed to be spoken as he kissed your temple, finally unable to resist giving you more while still being hidden under the shadows of the night. Then he took your hand in his as he stole you away from your friends and the house that you had been residing in since sophomore year, without ever giving you a chance to change your mind.

That night was when everything between you officially shifted. When everything that you had expected to be a short term kind of fling turned into something else as you left with him. It was risky, and it was probably the stupidest thing that you could have ever done in your life. But as you followed him that night, you were absolutely ready to take all the risk and to face everything that may come in your way of spending that part of your life with the man you loved.

Because being with him worth all the pain, the tears, and all the sacrifice. Even if it meant sacrificing your light just to have it all.

Present day…

“Will this be okay?”

You raise a hand to cover your eyes from the bright sunlight so you can have a good look at him. Your lips lift to a hint of a smile as you watch Namjoon moving before you. Bent down on his knees, his arms are flexed forward as he is busy spreading a picnic blanket on top of the small patch of ground that he chose not long after arriving in the city park.

In your eyes, he looks almost as if he is completely out of his element, which is an amusing sight to see. It isn’t so much about him being out here under the sun, nor it has anything to do with your surroundings, but more because he is showing you a different side of him that you have longed to see. Ever since the first time you got to know him, Namjoon has always seemed so calm and collected. Always so put together. Yet as he tries to meticulously sort out the picnic blanket, he looks a bit awkward and clumsy, though he still keeps a wide smile on his face that seems unrestrained and free, a sight that you enjoy seeing from him the most.

There is another thing about him which draws your attention aside from his bright smile that warms your heart. You look down as he stretches out to tame the corners of the blanket that keep rising due to the passing wind, watching the muscles on his back and shoulders straining under his thin t-shirt as he works to solve the problem while treating it as if he is working on a piece of art.

“Alright, I think that’s about it,” he says with a groan as he carefully pushes himself up, snapping your thoughts just before they can get anywhere near the dark places in your mind. He moves quickly as he rises back to his feet, giving you no chance to say a thing before returning to your side.

“So…what do you think? I figured this spot would be good enough for us. Don’t you think so?” Namjoon asks you with a soft sigh, sounding quite relieved and proud of himself for his work that it brings a smile to your face when you see it.

You take another look at the spread blanket, noticing how it is positioned on even ground where the grass is soft enough to cushion your weight and just arm’s length away from the nearby line of trees to give it enough shade to protect you both from the sun. There is quite a comfortable distance between this spot to the crowd of picnic-goers that you see filling the park, making it an ideal place for you to enjoy this leisure moment together with enough privacy from prying eyes.

“It’s perfect,” you tell him as you carefully place the heavy picnic basket that you have been carrying on top of the blanket. Straightening up to your full height, you breathe in the fresh air around you and smile as you relish the warm sunlight falling on your skin. “The weather is lovely today.”

With a soft hum, he takes a step closer and places his hands on your shoulders. “That’s why I decided to take you out here today. I want to enjoy being in the sun with you,” he gently says as he kisses the top of your head. “This is much better than being cooped up at home on your free day, don’t you agree?”

Something about his question puts you to a halt. It isn’t so much about what he said or how he said it, but it was something that his question implied which suddenly makes you feel uneasy. He probably didn’t mean anything other than pointing out the fact that you have been spending your day offs resting at home, oftentimes with him, instead of spending the day hanging out in the open like this.

And he wasn’t truly wrong when he brought it up either. Because that is exactly what you were planning to do to spend your long weekend. But as fate has it, he found out that his schedules are aligned to yours and wasted no time to came by so he could be with you. It was a nice surprise to find that you would be able to keep him to yourself this weekend, but then he gave you yet another joyful surprise when he first suggested to take you out on this cute picnic date. You were obviously overjoyed by the idea that you immediately agreed without thinking too much of it.

Looking back to it now, you finally realise why it had brought you such joy when he talked about taking you out here today, and why it has felt peculiar to be out in the open like this for a change. It was all due to the fact that you have somewhat grown more used to seeing him in a completely different setting.

Due to the circumstances of your relationship, you have often spent more time with him in the privacy of your home, completely hidden from the world outside. Even when he takes you out on dates, he would find a way to keep things on the down low. From taking you to those dinner dates in restaurants with private rooms or quaint cafes on the outskirts of the city, to slipping into the movie theatres once the lights have been turned off.

Before today, you have only treasured those stolen moments with s joyful heart. But now, as you are standing here with him under the sun, a different kind of emotion comes through your chest. It feels dark and heavy, and yet you have no intention to delve deeper into it. Not now, when you are supposed to be enjoying this moment with him.

Sighing, you ignore the feeling of bitterness that is slowly making its way to ruin your mood. “I guess you’re right,” you say to him, “this is a nice change.”

A nice change that should be making you happy. And yet—

Taking a good look around you, you get a view of the spread of green grass that appears bright under the sunlight. Nearly half of it is now covered by various blankets and folded chairs in different spots where people are lounging under the sun. Most of the picnic-goers have come here in groups. Most of them came here with families and friends, while there are couples who seem to be enjoying their time together.

Normally, you wouldn’t care much about the people around you, much less to compare yourself with them, as you are afraid that it might shatter the illusion that you have created for yourself. You have no idea what compels you to do it now as you watch closely at the lovers around you while you are leaning back against Namjoon’s broad chest. A sense of longing comes blooming inside you, as you picture yourself being in their shoes. To be the one holding his hand so freely in front of these people, to be showing him love—kissing him, touching him, laughing together under the sun—instead of cowering under the shadows. You wish you could be like them, to have what they have, instead of feeling like you have a target placed on your back for the sinful secret that you are hiding inside.

That’s because you are not like any other couples that are out here today, who truly deserve what they have now.

You wince as the bitter voice of your conscience fills your head, and the bitterness that you vaguely felt earlier starts gripping harder at your chest. It comes to remind you about your choices, the reason why you are more deserving to only be able to embrace his love in the safety of your home, or while you are hidden in the private room within the fancy restaurants that he often takes you to or to the outskirts of the city where you would be far away from prying eyes.

Like a dirty little secret that he has to hide.

“So—” Namjoon whispers as he kisses your shoulder, oblivious to the dew that is forming in the corner of your eyes as reality hits you hard that the fractures in your heart start to resurface. And yet somehow, even in his unawareness, he still manages to help soothe your unsettling feelings away as he gently rubs his palms up and down your upper arms. “Aren’t you going to sit down and join me? You know I worked my hardest to get everything set up perfectly.”

You briefly close your eyes, silently hoping that it would be enough to clear the tears away so he wouldn’t notice your change of mood before you get to look at him again. “I suppose it would be a shame to waste all of that hard work,” you whisper to him while feigning a teasing tone, yet you avoid looking into his eyes as you take his hand, allowing him to help you step onto the blanket.

Namjoon joins you once you are settled nicely on the picnic blanket. He easily finds comfort as he lies back with his elbows propped behind him after he is done helping you set out the drinks and snacks that you brought out today.

“Now this”—he sighs as he stretches his long legs out—”is comfortable. Just how I pictured it when I thought about bringing you out here today.”

His comment puts a smile on your face. “I hate to admit it, but when you first offered to take me out today, I thought you had gone mad. One minute you talked about how cozy it was to cool off at my apartment while complaining how hot it was outside under the blaring sun, the next minute, you started making lunch and was packing them up in a picnic basket,” you tease him with a chuckle, making him laugh as he still has no idea about the dark storm that is brewing inside your heart. Tilting your head up, you embrace the warmth falling on your face and exhale a deep sigh, hoping that it can help calm your heart. “Thank God I decided to listen. It really is nice being out here.”

Hoping to ease the troubling feeling inside, you relish the warm sun for a bit longer. Not realising that he is using this moment to slide closer. Until you feel his warmth hovering against your side. You turn to look at him as you open your eyes, finding his warm gaze looking back at you.

“I’m also glad that you agreed to come out here with me. I think we both needed this,” Namjoon says to you with a gentle smile on his face. For a brief moment, you wonder if he can sense your uneasiness when he appears to be cautious as he shifts a bit closer to you. But you soon figure out that he has something else in mind as he slides one hand around your waist and pulls you his side. “This is one of the things that I missed,” he murmurs as he leans down, once again pressing his lips on the exposed skin on your shoulder. “Do you remember back then, how we would escape from the city together and find places where no one would recognise us?”

Of course, you still remember. Those had been some of the old memories that you still have of those days and the precious moments that you would always look back to. While most of the details from your old love affair have turned foggy over the years, there are still small moments that you would often revisit when you were thinking about him, even long before your fated reunion which had eventually led to this day.

The night when you confessed your feelings, for example, has been the one memory that will forever be engrained in your mind and would return to you even when you try your best not to think about it. Then there was the night where your sin nearly got exposed, when he took you home from your secret date during the end of semester break and you arrived to a full house as your housemates had returned early from their vacation. You stayed under the shadows on the porch that night for a long time until both of you decided you weren’t ready to end the tryst, and he sneaked you out of your home to take you to his, where your carnal tryst continued all through summer in the safety of his home.

But the part of your memories that would often cause your heart to flutter would be the times he took you on those secret escapades that he mentioned. When you were not being hold up in your bedroom nor were you hiding in his house downtown, you used to sneak away to have your secret outings to various places where nobody would be able to find or recognise either of you. You have often thought of those moments as the memories that gave you joy to remember. At the same time, thinking of those moments also reminded you that everything you had with him was real, instead of something that you conjured from your own dark fantasy.

Oftentimes, you would wonder if both of you remember those events differently. If he had been simply using those outings to steal moments with you while hiding your relationship from the people who knew who you were, while in the meantime, you sought validation through those stolen moments and have been remembering them as passionate getaways to savour where you felt loved, and where you were finally able to garner his full attention the entire time without anything else getting in the way. You might never be able to find answers now after so long. But no matter what kind of intention hidden in those moments, the truth would always remain the same. That you were simply pretending to be actual lovers while you were together in places away from home, always taking all the chances you could get to forget about the reality waiting back home.

Before you can say anything, Namjoon gives you a small smile to say, “I won’t blame you if you had chosen to forget about those times we spent together. I would understand if you wanted to forget. But for me, it was hard to forget about them. The time we had during those outings,” he says, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, “were the happiest time I ever had. I would think about the little trips we had when I’m alone, wishing that I was out in the sun, having my own secret adventures to get away from the city with you by my side.”

You want to correct him and let him know that you have never once forgotten about the beautiful time you shared. Yet you bite your tongue, when your curiosity only draws you to ask something else. “Have you not been able to do that with—”

A knowing look flashes through his gaze. There is no need for him to hear the end of that sentence to know what you are about to ask him. And he isn’t allowing you to question it out loud or to mention about her, when he leans back in to give a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips and turns his attention on the neglected food and drinks that have been spread out before you.

“Why don’t we start on lunch before the food gets wasted for being under the sun too long?” Namjoon offers you as he reaches out to open one of the food containers. Just like how he meticulously prepared this entire picnic set-up, he carefully peels one wrapped sandwich before handing it out to you and carefully prepares the salad that he packed up together with it. He then continues by reaching out to grab one of the tumblers filled with cold drinks and prepares a pair of clear glasses. The ice inside the tumbler makes sharp clinking sounds as he takes it in his hand.

“I’m sure you’re thirsty too. I made us something that would help us cool down under this heat,” he says as he hands you one of the glasses and starts pouring the drink that turns out to be homemade sangria which he prepared from home, kept chilled with extra ice inside its container. “I have purposely added a hint more of your favourite red wine in this,” Namjoon softly chuckles as he presents you the glass of drink, though not before dipping a straw to go with it. “I hope the drink is refreshing enough for the heat. Maybe it can help you relax a bit more too.”

You blink your eyes, surprised at how on point his comment was. You never realised that he might actually be able to sense your uneasiness no matter how hard you have been trying to hold it back. You say nothing to that, however, and choose to simply take a hefty drink of your alcoholic punch, hoping that it can help to ease your mind.

As the alcohol hits you, a comforting warmth rolls through your body, while the ice does enough to cool you down. You take another long sip, relishing how good it makes you feel while ignoring the fact that it wouldn’t take long for you to start getting tipsy with how much wine he added into this drink.

Maybe it would be better once you do get a bit more tipsy, you simply convince yourself, because then your mind would stop going back to those dark places in your head. With a content sigh, you look up at him and smile. “You did good with your choice of drink. I’m sure this is going to help me a lot to relax. Though I should probably warn you that I can be a bit of a nuisance if I get drunk too early in the day, so you have to be responsible when that happens.”

“I don’t mind,” Namjoon simply says to you as he leans back closer. Within a blink of an eye, his face has become much closer, and his lips are now hovering against yours. “I’ll take all the responsibility, as long as you’re having a good time with me,” he adds with a gentle voice, before giving you a chaste kiss right on the lips. “Now eat.”

Smiling bashfully, you pull away and start diving into the meal. For a short moment, it feels like you both fall into some sense of normalcy in the guise of your picnic date. With any thoughts about the past pushed aside, and no more conversation shared to remind yourselves about his other life that he leaves behind just to be here with you, you allow yourself to indulge in this peaceful moment where you can once again pretend that you are just as normal as the other pairs of lovers around you.

You both fall into an ease as you talk about mundane things in life between the meal. Sometimes while teasing each other, other times giving each other light touches and stolen kisses just to celebrate each other’s presence. You watch endearingly as little children run across the opening to play together, some chasing their pets while others are chasing each other, filling the air around you with the sounds of their laughter. You have long stopped comparing yourself to other people around you when you glance towards the pair of lovers sitting nearby, finding shelter under the shades just like you do as they lean against each other while watching the view around them.

“I must say,” you say to him as you pick up a piece of chips after finishing your sandwiches, “that I didn’t expect that you would do so well with all this food. The mini sandwiches?”—you hum softly—”so good.”

Namjoon laughs at your comment. “You’re exaggerating,” he says, though it is quite obvious that he enjoys the compliment when he flicks the tip of your nose and kisses it. “But it does more than enough to boost a guy’s ego to be complimented by his girlfriend and I can’t say that I minded it. I feel like I can start bragging about being the best sandwich maker in town.”

His antics draw a giggle out of you. He doesn’t often act this way, which is why it pleases you when he can be so open like this from time to time. “Well, I like boosting your ego,” you tell him as you reach out to grab your drink right after he refills it, “among other things.”

This got him lifting his eyebrows. He can tell that the alcohol is already affecting you as you are starting your third glass, after only switching to the fresh juice once in the middle of your meal earlier at his advice to avoid getting tipsy too soon. “And may I know what are these other things might be?” he asks as he rests on his side, propping himself on one elbow and facing you.

You bite your lips before you haughtily answer him, “I think you already know the answer to that.” Your gaze trails down his upper arm, drawn by the way it flexes under his shirt to hold up his weight. Uninhibited thoughts start rushing through your head, drawn by the building lust that suddenly rises to its peak. Add that to your tipsiness, and you suddenly become a bit shameless. Mischievous ideas run through your head as you think of ways to tease him, to misbehave so you can draw a reaction from him for once.

Pulling the straw between your lips, you take a slow slip of your cold drink while feeling hyper aware of the attention that he is giving you. You can feel his gaze on you without you having to take a look, and you can feel him watching every movement you make. Feigning innocence and acting as if you have no wicked intention in mind, you start playing around with the thin straw, biting and sucking at the tip and sliding your lips lower like you are sucking—something else. His eyes seem to grow a tad bit darker as he is drawn to what you are doing, bringing a smile to your face at how easy it is to affect him so much.

His lips tug to a subtle smirk when he lifts his eyes at you. “Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing right now,” Namjoon mutters to you with a low voice.

“What am I doing?” you tease him back, and he easily retaliates by pulling you to him. You laugh as you fall against his chest and feel his lips pressing at your skin, just below your earlobe. Your breath quickens, just as you hear the soft groan that he is making, no doubt still affected by your teasing. “Would people be able to notice if we try to do something—naughty, under these trees?”

He chuckles softly and turns you to face him. “Like what?” he asks while leaning forward until his face gets so close to yours, “kissing you deeply until you forget how to breathe, or pulling you to my lap so you can ride me when there is a risk that these people can see what you’re doing?”

You bite your lips, now becoming the one affected by his teases and his words when you imagine doing everything that he suggested while being out in the open. You hate being the one to yield first when you were the first to start this game, so you lean closer and brush your lips against his earlobe as you whisper to him, “I’m thinking about doing something more risky, like taking you inside my mouth like I did with the straw.”

“Fuck—” he curses under his breath. You can tell that you had managed to send his mind all the way down to the gutter, and his body is reacting down below. He has his eyes closed briefly when you pull back.

“I remember that we did something similar a while back—” you mutter softly with a smile as you are brought back to the past yet again. Bringing you back to another unforgettable moment that you shared with him then. “Remember when you took me up on that hiking trip right outside of town? I wasn’t that big of a fan when it comes to hiking, but you convinced me to it.”

Namjoon lifts his eyebrows and starts wiggling them. “I remember doing a lot more than convincing,” he teases you with a deep chuckle.

“Oh, we also did a lot more while we were up there on that hiking hill,” you tease him back. Your cheeks immediately flush as you recall that weekend. Years have passed, but that day remains in your memory to this day. The long hike that you did with his hand sometimes reaching out to yours just to make sure that you could keep up with him. The scenery that you saw—the tall trees, the spread of fresh green grass and odd-shaped boulders that you found once you were close to the top, the hidden spring and small waterfall that you found between the carved ridges. But the magnificent and unforgettable part of it was slipping into the hidden grotto right below the waterfall after dipping into the spring, where he held you with his strong arms while you rocked above him, filling the rocky walls with the sounds of your wet bodies slapping against each other under the blinding bliss.

You lick your lips at the memory of your pleasure, and how you dropped down on your knees right before you started to make your way back down the hill and took him in your mouth one last time until he unraveled completely. Tilting his head, Namjoon looks at you closely with an intrigued look filling his eyes. “Do I want to know what’s going on in your dirty mind right now?” he asks you with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you tease him. “Do you want me to share?” You look back at him, smiling, before taking the straw back between your lips, slipping it deep enough until it almost reaches your throat and start sliding your lips up towards the tip before actually taking a sip.

There is something dark in his gaze when he realises what you are doing. But you only manage to get a quick glimpse of it before he pulls you back to his chest and buries his face at the crook of your neck. “You’re fucking killing me here,” he says with a deep, frustrated groan, before he finally gives in to temptation, as he pulls your drink away and captures your lips, giving you a deep kiss that would have been enough to make any child or bystander blush if only they can see it.

He makes you completely breathless from the kiss, and your skin flushes with warmth that has nothing to do with the bright sun above your head. Yet the moment he pulls away, you quickly notice the way his dark eyes seem to dim.

A heavy silence soon grows between you, and you are quick to notice the change in his mood. There is nothing unsettling about it, nothing about it that makes you feel like he is slipping away or that your little world is crumbling to pieces, yet it is still enough to make you start questioning things. As he lies back down on his side like before, he seems to be so deep in his thoughts that you feel curious to know what is going through his mind right now. Something tells you that he isn’t reminiscing the hiking trip that had gotten you feeling warm or many other liaison that you shared with him in the past, so you cannot stop yourself from asking him, “What are you thinking?”

The corner of his lips tilt to a small grin as he mulls over his answer. “I just—can’t remember when was the last time I felt like this,” he finally says to you with a wistful tone of voice, a dimple appears on his cheek when he looks at you.

“Like what?” you question him, feeling more curious than ever to get inside his head. To know how he actually feels about being with you. “How do you feel?”

Namjoon releases a deep sigh as he deeply thinks about it. “I feel like I’m free. Free to do whatever I want without feeling heavy around my shoulders. Free to be myself,” he says, sounding content as he says these words, as if he is relieved to be able to get them out of his chest, “not to be shackled by anything worldly that is forcing me to be someone that I am not.”

Something about his words, his revelation, pierces through your heart. You have always wondered why he would always have such a forlorn and faraway look in his eyes at times, but this is the first time you get to hear what is happening behind the looks that he makes. Namjoon grabs your hand and starts rubbing his thumb in circles across your skin, finding refuge in your presence alone. “I love how I can always be free to joke around like what I’m doing it with you and enjoy the things that may raise some eyebrows for some.”

His words—and the way he says them—draws a smile to your face. Even when your heart feels heavy because of what he seems to be dealing with. He looks straight into your eyes when he sighs deeply and continues to say, “It took me some time to realise that I’ve only ever been able to do these things when I’m with you.”

You take a deep breath, trying your best not to get emotional. “To do what, exactly? To follow your needs and act on them?” you tease him, hoping that you can lighten things up just as the tension coming from his personal burdens seem to be lingering in the air.

When he doesn’t answer you right away, your heart starts beating rapidly. You feel uneasy. Prior to this, you had often wished that you could find a way to get inside his head. Namjoon may have been sharing a huge piece of himself with you which he claimed to have never shared with anyone else before, but there is always another part of him that you haven’t been able to read. He may have been baring his soul whenever he is with you, but his deep thoughts have always been another mystery that you have never been able to solve. You always had this fear to dig deeper, to open the deepest layer of himself to see what is hiding beneath, afraid what it might do to the illusion that you have created for yourself about the two of you.

“Remember when I told you long ago, about how a person tends to become a reflection of another just to fit someone else’s image of the perfect lover or partner so they could stay with the people they love?” he asks. There is a woeful look in his eyes when he looks at you that makes your heart heavy.

“I remember,” you answer bitterly. You remember it perfectly well because it was the answer that he gave you when you found the courage to ask about his life that you never got to see. To find out the reason why he managed to stay in the relationship that he had with another for such a long time even when he didn’t seem to be—happy. When you openly questioned if he had truly loved her that much to stay, so much so that he could never choose you over her, the answer that he gave you had only revealed something more. “Do you still feel that way? Even after years had gone by, do you still do such a thing?”

Again, he doesn’t give you an immediate answer. Instead he turns to look up at the sky, and that glum look in his gaze appears clearer under the bright sunlight. “I suppose I am the one to blame. I wanted to create that image in the first place to win her heart, so I could become someone who was more deserving to be with her instead of the person that I knew myself to be,” he says with a bitter chuckle. The sound does something to your heart that you feel the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him. The irony of his situation makes you ache for him. But there is nothing that you can do or say about it.

There is a look in his eyes that is enough to stop you from doing anything else but to listen. The look of acceptance. An absolute defeat, which is something that you had never seen from him before. As if he has simply surrendered to his own fate, to the life that he had written for himself.

“I never realised how exhausting it would be to continue living my life that way. I probably shouldn’t be complaining about it, not after so long and when I was the one to make it happen in the first place, but it feels like I’m losing myself. I have been losing myself. I’ve been feeling like I have become a mirror of my true self that I have to constantly hold up in front of her and everyone else to create the perfect image of myself that she could love, that everyone could accept,” he speaks with a voice that sounds defeated, and it causes the ache that you have been feeling for him to bury itself deeper into your heart. His small smile looks broken when he turns to look at your face again, only to say, “But I had to keep it up, right? Because I can’t bear the responsibility of breaking her out of the illusion of me that I created for her.”

And just like that, the bitterness hits you right back in the chest. Listening to him talk about her has never been easy. Unlike then, it no longer feels painful to hear him mentioning her so lightly like this. The feeling has grown numb over the years, also added with the fact that you have been trying to avoid thinking or reminding yourself about her presence ever since he is back in your life. But it still doesn’t mean that you are now able to hear him talking about her without feeling like your heart being ripped apart.

Hiding your clenched hands under the skirt of your sundress, you remain silent to allow him to continue. Then Namjoon surprises you when he suddenly pushes himself up to a sitting position. He gently reaches out, finding a stray strand of hair and slowly tucking it on the back of your earlobe. His gaze feels intense when he is looking at you, then he begins to speak, revealing another hidden part of his that you have always desired to see.

“With you, everything is different. It always has been, even from back then,” he murmurs, almost to himself as a wistful look comes through his gaze, replacing the dark gloom which you previously saw in his eyes. “With you, I never have to pretend. How could I, when even from the very first day we met, you have always been able to see right through me?”

“Is that so?” you ask him with a trembling voice. He nods just as you see glimpses of your first encounter that many years ago back on campus, when you made a single comment that must have gotten stuck in his memories as much as it did with yours,

“As someone who is supposed to be a motivational coach for freshman students like myself, you’re not exactly looking like a bright sunshine either. I bet you didn’t even want to be here, did you?”

You cannot help but smile as you recall his reaction. The way he gawked at your audacity at first before he bursted into laughter. By the time he was done, any tension and dark mood that followed him evaporated, and you got to see his eyes brightening up with new enthusiasm to deal with his new underclassmen of the year. And it was the same brightness that caused the instant attraction you had for him which later manifested within you for a long time.

Just as you are brought back to that specific memory of the past, his smile is lifted as if he is recalling the same thing as well. “You were the only one who saw it. Who saw me. As if you knew that I was having a rough time, and the last thing I needed was to be in a student gathering night where I had to deal with freshmen years when all I wanted to do was to have a quiet night by myself so I could think.” He chuckles softly and continues to play with the wild strands of your hair that he manages to catch between his fingers. “But that wasn’t the only time you did it, was it? You’ve always been able to see right through me, to look past my facade that I showed everyone else around me. You make me feel like you can see what’s beneath—my head, my soul—even when I tried my damn hardest to hide it from everyone.”

Your breath is caught when his gaze finds yours. This would be the first time in your life that you would get to see yourself through his eyes. You have no idea what compels him to talk about all of this with you. Looks like you aren’t the only one who is getting affected by his mix of drinks, after all, when he continues to spill his deepest and darkest secret, revealing to you what he has kept inside his heart this whole time.

“I know I never said anything, but—” Namjoon says, suddenly choking up, “I wonder if this was the reason why I always gravitated towards you even before you began to act so friendly towards me each time we met,” he admits with a bashful smile, drawing your own as your memory takes you back to those days, when your gullible self would always be drawn to him whenever he was around. Even before you realised that you were harbouring a secret crush on him, you would look for any reason to cross paths with him. It felt so long ago that you can barely remember all the details. It is astonishing to find that he has a better memory of your past encounters when you had always thought that you have been the one to cherish them more.

When you have spent years believing that you were the one who had fallen first and harder, and that you were the one who felt a lot deeper between the two of you.

“At first, I only started to pay more attention and look you up out of curiosity. I wanted to see if it had only been in my head, but the more I got to know you, I became more curious to know how you managed to do it so easily, to see through everything that everyone failed to see,” he continues while you are left speechless. Believing that you might choke or cry if you say something, you keep your mouth shut and bite your tongue, allowing him to continue opening up, baring his soul the way he never could before.

“I soon realised that I found comfort by talking to you and spending time with you. It was always so easy for me to reveal myself to you without feeling like I was forced to, and it felt—freeing, to be able to do that for the first time.” He exhales a deep sigh, looking like he had just dumped a whole weight off his shoulders by talking about this when his smile grows. “It was addicting, the feeling that you came to me whenever I met you. All it took was for me to sit down with you for a couple of minutes and I felt like I could breathe again.”

He releases the strands of hair that he has been playing with and let them fall against your face, then gently cups your cheek. “I never thought that it could lead to anything else. It never crossed my mind to act on that feeling, mostly because I didn’t understand what it was,” Namjoon murmurs softly while he absentmindedly starts moving his thumb on your skin. Then he lifts his gaze and smiles. “Until you suddenly came to me to confess your feelings.”

A chuckle slips out of his lips as he recalls what had happened that night. “That was quite surprising. I think I already knew that you may have had a crush on me, but I ignored it, probably thinking that if I didn’t say anything, I wouldn’t have any expectations and I would be able to savour spending more time with you. But when I realised that your confession was meant to be your closure, that you were trying to move on, I got—” he swallows hard and furrows his eyebrows, “I panicked. I got scared. Because I knew that I was losing you.”

When his gaze lifts up, you get to see it—the fear that he felt then, and the tears that are formed in the corner of his eyes at the thought of you leaving him for good. “I couldn’t bear it. That’s why I couldn’t stop myself from kissing your lips instead of letting you go when I should have.”

Just as he says those words, his raw emotions are shown in his eyes. It gets you all choked up to see it, to feel it, to finally realise that he feels this much just for you. Concern plagues you, as you try to imagine what kind of life that he has been living in since the day you were gone.

“Do you—still feel the same? Do you still feel like you’re putting up a facade even right in front of—”

Her. Even until this moment, you still cannot find it in you to talk about her or to mention her that easily. But if what you have been feeling about her is envy, jealousy, and hurt—for the fact that she is the one blessed enough to live a life where he is in it—what you are feeling now is rage. Infuriated to think that she would allow him to keep living this kind of life just to be with her.

“I think—I’ve been doing it for so long that I’ve forgotten how to live without doing it,” Namjoon says with a bitter smile on his face. “I must admit that I was beginning to doubt myself and everything that I’ve built in my life. I’d spend my nights wondering if what she has for me is anything close to love, or if she loves me for the idea that she has of myself that I had created for her instead of the real me that has been pushing its way to come to the surface.”

Then his smile shifts into something that looks more to be relief when he looks back to the night you came across each other once again. “The day we finally met again—” he says, still with a smile on his face, “it happened right when I started questioning myself. I had no idea just how much longer I would be able to keep up with this facade. Because it has been exhausting, and it was starting to kill me inside. The more I felt like I was losing myself, the more it felt like it was sucking my entire soul.”

You blink away the tears that have been forming in your eyes while you were listening to him. A sudden burst of anger fills your chest after hearing what he has to put up with, when you have been spending your life thinking that he was living the life that he had chosen for himself and finding happiness in it. “Then why do you keep this up? Doesn’t it make you feel lonely?”

Namjoon gives you a wry smile. “Just like I told you,” he says with a slow sigh, “you have no idea.”

His answer only makes you frown. During all the times he has been saying those same words to you, you have only been brushing it off, telling yourself that he has only been saying those things to please you. But the look you see in his eyes as he repeats the same thing to you now tells you a different story.

In his eyes, you see a glimpse of his broken soul. His loneliness that he may have had buried for a long time now emerging through his gaze like a deep void, pulling you towards it. Right at that moment, every last bit of doubt that you ever had about this relationship immediately shifts. Just when you had thought that all the existing bond you shared may have only come from lust, and from the desire that always burns so rapidly the moment you are in the same room, you realise now that there is something more there.

Just like how you have always found solace in his presence, to feel like your heart and soul are awakened the moment he touches you, it turns out that he might be feeling the same thing. That your presence feeds his soul in a way that no other ever could. Perhaps that is the reason why you always gravitate towards each other, even after the universe tried to split you apart. All because you need each other.

Because your souls crave each other’s presence to survive.

“The night we crossed paths at the mall, I felt—relieved, more than I was astounded to see you again. It felt like my questions and prayers were answered. All at once, everything came back to me the moment we spoke and then sat down together, and it made it hard for me to walk away. The feeling of freedom that I could only feel when I was with you felt like a drug, and it made me feel like I was coming back alive again,” he continues, still with his deep eyes looking into yours, letting you see the truth in them.

“You’ve asked me why I kept coming back,” he adds with a smile while you still unable to find your own voice to speak, “I guess this is your answer. This is the reason why I keep coming back to you, and also the reason why I know that I won’t be able to let you go. Not again.”

Just then, the tears that have been forming on the corners of your eyes begin their descent before you can do anything to stop it. A sense of closure fills your heart. All the bitterness and the dark thoughts are lifted when you return his smile as you brush away your tears.

He pulls you to his chest and holds you there. Finding comfort in his embrace, you don’t make a move aside from wrapping your arms around him. His heart beats steadily against your cheek and you close your eyes to find calmness in it.

Yet, even in the solitude of your shared silence and relief, your mind still refuses to remain quiet, and another question feeds your curiosity.

"Do you think we deserve to be happy?" you ask him as you gently pull away, while Namjoon falls silent.

"That's a tough question to answer. But if I have to be honest?" he starts to answer after mulling it over for a moment. "For me? I don't think I'll ever deserve it. Happiness is not for someone like me. A sinner, whose heart has been tainted." A bitter chuckle slips out of his lips as he looks up at the sky. There is a wry smile on his face when he turns to look at you again, fading as quickly as it appears. "But the same can't be said for you. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who can make sure that you are given a life where you are constantly smiling and laughing, enjoying your life the best you possibly can instead of having dark shadows haunting your gaze every time."

You swallow the heavy need to cry when you question him, ”Is that how you see me?"

He answers you with a soft hum. “When I look at you, I see someone who is resilient, strong, hard-headed yet always knows what she wants and how to get it. You have a heart that's so big, filled with so much love to give, and you carry that heart openly in your sleeves,” he says as he slides the pad of his thumb across your cheek to wipe off your drying tears. "Deep down, your soul is still pure. Yet the shadows in your eyes show a different kind of story."

Pursing his lips, he begins shaking his head slowly as if he is feeling regretful. “That's why I always believe that I don't deserve you. I don't think I ever will. Not when I'm the one who put that shadow in your eyes because I can't give you what you needed."

"What if that shadow only appears because my soul is just as tainted as yours?” your question comes as a whisper. “Because I'm in love with a sinner, and it's making me a sinner too."

"Do you really think so?" he asks, and his lips lift to a smile. “Maybe you’re right. But that only means that we’re one and the same, don’t you think?”

You smile back at him. “Then maybe that's a sign that we really do deserve each other."

Namjoon softly chuckles. “Maybe,” he hums as he pulls you back to his chest and presses his lips on the top of your head. You feel him closing his eyes as he sighs, and his voice is gentle when he whispers to you, "Yes, perhaps you're right. We do belong together.“

If I must compare your life into day and night, then she would be the one to fill your bright days, always shining under the sun, while I would be the one to reside in your long nights. Before I received the letter you wrote me, before I finally got those three little words that meant more than my entire world coming from you, I spent my time living with you while wallowing in self-doubt. The world that you had inside your mind will forever be a mystery that I can never solve. Yet you have always been honest with me. Always so open even when you had to tell me about all the painful truth. Letting me know that you no longer have anything left that you could offer or promise me except for the small piece of soul that you have been brave enough to show me. I have learned, after many years, not to be greedy when it comes to you. To take all that I could get and have only what I deserved to gain, just as long as I could be with you. Even if I must remain in the dark. Even if I must remain living as a part of your night. But as time passes, it becomes harder not to listen to what my heart desires. To not want more. Because I will always want more. Even if I will never be able to put those silly wishes into words.

Once you are no longer counting the days, life simply continues and time seems to easily blur together. Before you realise it, nearly a year has gone by, and he still remains by your side. Yet time doesn’t seem to matter anymore as both of you continue to live your lives together in your small little world, built and secured safely within the walls of your small home.

With him being a part of it, this place has become your safe haven.

A place where you are separated from the outside world, protected from the reality that you have chosen not to take notice when you are together with him. The place that had once felt desolated and cold has now become a place of solitude, a place where you can live comfortably in the safety of his arms without having to worry about the future that lies ahead of you.

It helps you forget the fact that he has another life to come back to—something that you choose to not think about on the nights that he wasn’t spending with you—and helps you put everything about the past far, far away from your thoughts so you can relish the joy of the present.

Until tonight, when Namjoon suddenly brings it up again.

You are lying in your bed, with one of his arms laid under your neck and your head resting on his shoulder. This is something that the two of you would do whenever sleep eludes you at night, and you would fall into a comfortable silence while enjoying each other’s presence.

He has his eyes looking far over your head. In his silence, his gaze seems to settle on something that he sees in the distance as it lingers out the window. Looking over your shoulder, all you can see out there is nothing but the dark, night sky. But it seems that glimpses of the past are visiting him through the partly opened curtains when he suddenly mutters,

“You never asked me to leave her.”

You turn to look at him. “What?”

For a moment, he says nothing else, though he still has a faraway look in his eyes as if he is still looking far back into the past. “Never once did you try to break us apart. And we weren’t married then, so it would’ve been easy for you to simply ask me to walk away.” Namjoon stops talking to close his eyes, briefly, then he looks down at your face when he opens those beautiful eyes again. He wears a smile on his face, one that is filled with curiosity and something else that is kin to guilt, when he asks you, “Why was that? Why didn’t you ever ask me for it?”

Gnawing at your lips, you take a moment to consider your answer. You have no idea what to say or how to respond to his question, even if you do get what he is trying to say. You just never expected that he would question you about it after so long has passed since then.

Closing your eyes, you start thinking about the past. Because you have wondered about it. The words had always been there, threatening to slip out of you each time you looked into his eyes and your chest was filled with dread for knowing that he wasn’t truly yours. But you always chose to bite your tongue, refusing to place this one simple truth out into the universe despite feeling the deep ache in your heart which was filled with longing and the desire to be with him. It wasn’t easy to continue lying to yourself, to hold back the way you did. And yet you still chose to do it, only because you had always known that asking that much of him would be too much, no matter how desperately your heart desired it to happen.

For him to be asking about this now only forces you to recount everything—about your true desire that you had to bury deep inside, your undying wish, and the constant battle you had with yourself for denying your feelings.

Avoiding his gaze, you cannot help but wonder, “Did you want me to beg you to leave her?”

His eyes are downcast when you look at him again. A deep, resounding sigh comes from him as he slowly answers, “I’m not sure about wanting it. But I can say that I expected that it would happen at some point. That you would ask me to make a choice, and for me to choose you over her. I guess”—he chuckles softly—”it was quite surprising that it was never brought up. I spent so many times envisioning every possible scenario of when we would be having that talk. In a way, I think I was preparing myself to deal with it should you ever bring it up and start demanding it, but it never happened.”

His confession catches you off guard, and you have no idea what to think of this. Suddenly filled with a mix of emotions, you say nothing to him until he looks at you and asks you again, “Have you ever thought about it? About us being together?”

You take a moment to mull over your answer before saying anything. The memory of having to refrain yourself from expressing what you desired the most seems to have been ingrained in you. You still remember everything—what it was like to be in that position, unable to be honest with your own heart, and it causes an immediate reaction coming from you as you once again find yourself holding back from admitting your feelings.

But once you look into his eyes, you realise that things between you feel much different now compared to how it was back then. And after years have passed, you have grown to become a completely different person. Unlike then, you feel entitled enough to feel greedy. Deep down, you feel that you are allowed to be, and you have your own reasons to feel this way.

Only because you refuse to believe that the universe has no reason for allowing you to meet each other again after so long. And you refuse to accept that you have crossed paths merely by chance after many years have passed only for you to part ways again the way you did years ago.

Sighing deeply, you find the courage to speak, seizing the chance to be honest with yourself, and to him. “Every single time,” you answer softly. And just like that, you feel as if the weight that you have been carrying is lifted, and you feel even lighter as you continue to open up your heart. “Even when I never said a thing, I wished for it. I prayed for it every single night when I had to say goodbye and watch you go back to her. I spent all the nights I had to sleep alone in my bed begging to the universe that you would be mine forever.”

The more he listens to your confession, the deeper the crease between his eyebrows grows. “Why have you never said anything?” he asks you, sounding baffled as he listens to all of this for the first time, while you cannot help but respond with a bitter chuckle.

“It’s not like I never wanted to ask or even beg for you to make it happen,” you admit to him with a shrug, then you tilt your head up, looking at him straight in the eyes to question him, “but what right did I have to ask that much from you?”

When you already had your whole life planned which didn’t involve me becoming a part of it—are the words left unspoken, when it suddenly becomes too painful to recount the events from the past, just before the voice of your conscience speaks to you once more to say,

What right do I have to ask for it now?

You instantly bite your lips, hating how the voice of reason always returns to put you back in your place. Just like how it often did the same to you back then. In the past, you had always chosen to listen to that voice, to help you become the reasonable one between the two of you by refusing to be greedy and only taking what you could get from him. Now, you quickly brush it off, pushing it away so you can ignore it, and choosing to listen to your heart instead. Because not everyone gets a second chance the way you do now.

“You said so yourself, remember? You talked about how our stories had been written differently, that you have had your story plotted, written, with a proper ending to your story planned.” You smile bitterly when the ache in your chest returns, bringing back all the emotions that you had constantly felt whenever his words would come to haunt you. As if reminding you that you had no place in his life after everything was done.

“I was young and dumb, and I didn’t exactly understand what you were saying then, but I knew that it wasn’t our happy ending that had been written for you. I think—” Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to look into the state of mind that you had back then, understanding yourself better now to finally comprehend the past choices you made and admitting it loudly, “I think, once I got that thought embedded into my mind, I just pushed away everything that I desired the most from you and simply took what I could get, while all I could do was to wait and prepare myself for when our time together would finally be up.”

Namjoon falls silent yet again as he takes in your words. It makes you feel a bit silly now that you put your past thoughts into words. But just like you said, you were too young and dumb to know what would have been the right thing for you to do and how to express your feelings, something that you had never been capable of doing.

But not being able to formulate your feelings into words had not only been your true reason to keep quiet about what you wanted.

Asking him to make such a big decision would require you to have hopes. The kind of hope that you could never allow yourself to have. Not in the position you were in back then. Even if you ever had the courage to be honest about what you wanted, even if you tried to do it without allowing your hope to bloom, you still knew that it would eventually come either way.

You know then how it would have tainted everything once you started demanding more, that it would have ruined any blissful moments that you were having with him. And it would certainly have only left you with more bitter memories than the good ones that you still keep with you to this day.

“How about now?” he gently asks you after a moment has passed. “What do you wish for now? What do you pray at night?”

With just one look into his eyes and by listening to the tender voice that he gives you, any resolution that you have had about not wanting to act as recklessly as you did then or to give in to your heart’s desire dwindles. All of your defences that you have put up to keep you from getting hurt again this time start to wane.

This is your chance…

You can almost hear your own heart speaking to you, encouraging you to be honest—not only to yourself, but also for him to be able to see your true desire. The deep, warm look that you find in his gaze feels just as encouraging, allowing you to put your feelings into words.

“I pray—” you begin to speak without looking away from him, “that if this is just a dream, then I don’t ever want to wake up. I just want to stay here with you, just like this, where nothing else in the world matters but us.”

You stop for a brief moment, biting your lips once you realise that you have finally told him everything that you have been keeping inside.

There is no turning back now that the truth is out. There are only two kinds of reactions that you can get from him after hearing your confession. Either he stays, or he decides that you both want different things and he will no longer want to have anything to do with you.

This thought had been the reason why you were wary about being honest with him. Just like him, you had thought of any possible scenario that might have happened once you shared with him what you truly want from him, to actually ask him to choose you instead of the life that had been planned for him. And each time, you had pictured him choosing the last option, and you had always seen yourself accepting it, knowing that it would be the only thing that you would ever deserve to get from him.

Because you don’t deserve to have him sacrificing his entire life for you.

Tonight, however, you find some resolve growing within you when you look into his eyes. This time, you feel like you are allowed to hope. You are allowed to demand more from him, and you are allowed to fight your hardest until you can finally get what you have always desired.

“I want to be with you. I want to be the only one that you hold at night, the one lying down beside you like this to listen to your voice as you talk about your day. I want to watch you walk out the door in the morning without feeling worried or scared that it will be the last time I’ll ever see you again, and I want to be able to go about with my day feeling optimistic as I plan how I’m going to be spending my night with you instead of wondering whether or not you’ll be coming to visit.”

Once the words continue to slip through your lips, it feels as if there is a dam within you that is breaking down. You didn’t expect to become so emotional about this, but it feels freeing to be saying all of this out loud, that your tears come flowing down your cheeks once relief takes over you.

“I want us to be like any other couple, to go on dates, picnics, to have afternoon walks in the park, maybe go on a trip far, far away for a lengthy of time,” you continue with bitter laughter slipping out of your lips as you recall your picnic date. The picnic date which revealed a whole lot more that you could ever handle.

A wave of melancholy floods through you when you remember everything that went through your mind that day. Having him opening up to you, allowing you to hear his deep and dark thoughts about his relationship with his wife had given you a sense of reassurance. Yet it lasted only for a short period of time. As that day had brought to light a myriad of other things that you still have to deal with to this day.

The insecurity that you felt from being with him in the open was a feeling that has not been so easy for you to shake off. You remember feeling inferior while being surrounded by all those people. Those who were lucky enough to be with their loved ones without having any worries. The feeling of jealousy and the desire to have what they had has helped open your eyes to see everything that was wrong about your relationship.

It has made you realise now more than ever just how sheltered he has made you feel by being with him. It has brought back all the past memories that you have overlooked each time you reminisced the past, to remind you everything that you had to endure just to be with him. Like how you had to watch him attending campus events with her by his side, while all you could do was to watch them from afar and wait until the moment he could return to you once the day was over. Sneaking around your friends just to be able to steal a few hours within the day to see him. The lunch dates that had to be cut short each time any of his friends or yours would suddenly appear to catch the sight of you while you were together.

Every night, you would always be haunted by how he made you feel. The sorrow you feel for being hidden like a dirty little secret. Always waiting on the sidelines until it was your turn to come out into the light.

“I want to be able to hold you forever, not only until we reach an expiration date for whatever it is that we have now, but until the day I breathe my last breath. I want to be able to scream to the whole world how much”—your voice gets caught in hour throat before you try to say it out loud—“how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you. I want to show everyone that you are mine. And I want us to be able to be together under the sun, holding each other’s hands in front of everyone who gets to hear about our story, instead of hiding in the shadows the way we have been.”

Namjoon moves his hand just as you speak, gently pressing his palm on your cheek as he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. “Is that what you truly want?” he whispers. His voice comes out so soft that you nearly miss the way it trembles. But it is the look you see in his eyes that gets you. The look that feels so intense that you can feel it in your chest.

“Yes, that’s what I want.”

Without another word, he pulls you against his chest and leans down to kiss you. He wastes no time dipping his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss while taking the rest of your words and your breath away. Still high with emotions, you feel like you are melting under his touch, allowing him to take over your body and soul completely as he turns you over until you are lying beneath him.

You have no idea what is going through his head right now. But with the way he is kissing you, touching you, and easily covering your body with his as if your bodies have been moulded to be the perfect fit, none of it seems to matter anymore. Placing your truth out there has felt so heavy but relieving at the same time, and all you need now is to feel him. To have him mend your heart after opening it wide for him to see what is hidden deep inside.

As he makes sweet love to you, tenderly and slowly, you finally get to understand the real reason why you had never been able to completely move on from him. For so long, you had simply thought that it was all because you had not been truly healed from your broken heart. That your heart had been so fractured that you were unable to love anyone else the same way you have always felt so deeply for him.

But he makes you see the truth when he easily brings to you to the brink of your pleasure through each slow thrust, each deep kiss, and with every gentle touch he gives you, making you feel all the things that no other person had ever been able to make you feel. It is all because of his sweet lovemaking, when he makes you feel alive and complete.

And because when his eyes find you, he isn’t simply looking at you. He sees you. Sometimes unabashedly undresses you with it, other times it feels like he is making you a promise without saying a single word. A single gaze with different meanings that you can hold on to.

And that gaze is what you find in his eyes when you open your eyes in your blissful moment of climax and contentment. Through his eyes, you find his silent promise, to see the words that he is unable to voice out loud. Looking deep into his eyes, you also get to feel his love. You can feel it caressing your entire body and soul as he embraces his pleasure, as he bares his soul for you to share with you everything that he has been hiding within his own heart.

I never asked much from you, except for your heart and to ask you to love me back. To appreciate my existence instead of denying my being. To help make me feel less invisible even when you were not here with me. Even then, there were still some words that I kept wishing to hear from you. Words that seemed impossible to be spoken, because no matter how many promises you had given and kept for me, I had always known that there was one promise that you had given and one that you would never be able to break. The promise that you gave her.

“I’m leaving her.”

Back then, many years ago, you dreamt of moments like this, to hear him say those words to you. Whenever you would look back in the past, you would often wonder what would have happened if you ever had any courage to ask him to say something like this.

It feels too overwhelming to accept that you are not just imagining things. That he had truly just said those words to you, completely unprompted, after weeks have passed since the night you spilled your secret wish and talked about what you truly wanted from him.

What your heart still desires from then and to this day.

Shaking your head, you try to deny that this is happening. You have to. Because you can already feel your silly little hope blooming in your chest, thinking that he truly meant what he just said. “You can’t mean that,” you say to him with a wry smile, still refusing to believe him. Yet when his determined gaze doesn’t seem to waver, it tugs you out of your denial.

“But I do. I mean every word I said,” Namjoon says to you almost pleadingly, and you can feel your resolve cracking under the firm tone of his voice. You try to avoid his gaze so you can remain in denial, yet he refuses to let you ignore him as he walks over to you in his fast and long strides until he is standing right in front of you. Taking your hands in his, he forces you to look at him in the eyes when he says, “I want to.”

The breath that you take trembles, and it gets caught in your chest for the fear that you might break. Seeing this, Namjoon tightens his grip on your hands to get you to focus on his words before you start panicking. “Remember when we talked about what you truly wanted? When you finally shared with me everything that you’ve never been able to ask from me? Well, this is me finally being honest with what I want. This is what I’ve always wanted but never could admit,” he says, almost rushing in his words as if he has been keeping it inside for too long.

“Do you mean it? Do you really mean this?” you start questioning him once you are able to find your voice again. “You told me—” you choke out a sob, “you said that you couldn’t promise me anything when you already made one promise to another.” Just when you say those words, his words from many years ago return to your thoughts, echoing inside your head the way it always does whenever you reminisce that time in the past where he unintentionally put your wishes to rest,

“Maybe if things had been different. If she had been the one to say it first that it was over between us and I could erase everything that I had given her—every promise, the silly vow we made with each other, everything we planned—then I would have been able to give you more…”

Namjoon visibly winces as he is reminded of those same words that he gave you then. When he closes his eyes, you can tell that he finally understands the real reason why you could never find any courage to tell him how much you wanted to be with him, or to even demand that he would give up everything that he had built for you. His face crumbles with remorse when he opens his eyes again and sees the look on your face. Reality seems to dawn on him after hearing your words, and he pulls you into his arms just before a tear drops from your eyes.

Closing his eyes, he takes a long, deep breath and then exhales it slowly. “I admit that I was…nothing more but a coward and a complete fool back then. I had so many opportunities to make it right by you, to make a choice, but I was too afraid to walk away and face the consequences if I ever decided to take back my words. I thought we still had time. I thought I still had more time, but then—”

You left.

You close your eyes and bury your face in his chest, hoping that you can bury all the memories from the day when you decided that you had enough. It wasn’t because of your pride that you chose to walk away from his life, nor it was for your own dignity. You walked because of your own selfish reasons, only because you could no longer take the pain of being kept in the shadows and having to watch him live another life, loving another woman, and building an entirely different life when you were building your entire world around him.

“After you were gone, I kept regretting my choices. I regretted the fact that I couldn’t be honest with myself and allowed myself to be complacent on what we had until everything fell apart, and I lost you for good,” he confesses to you with his voice coming out almost to a whisper. “I spent my entire life regretting the fact that I had to lose you because of my indecisiveness,” he continues, while tears continue to flow down your cheeks as you take in this revelation.

Namjoon pulls away with a shuddering exhale of breath to look at you. “But it’s different now. It has to be. I knew it ever since we crossed paths again, because it happened just when I finally gave up on hope. That’s why I know that I can do it this time. That’s why I have to do this. I can’t lose you again.”

He brings his hands up and cups them on your face, allowing you to see the deep love in his eyes, the sincerity and truth that you desperately seek just so you can trust his words.

So you can allow yourself to have hope.

Your shoulders fall in relief when you can see them, his emotions that are plainly written in his deep gaze, and you take it all in as he leans down, capturing your lips in his. Your eyes flutter to close as you embrace this warm feeling that he is bringing into your heart.

“I also have my own regrets,” you say to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I regretted that I chose not to say anything even when the truth was that I never wanted to let you go. Never again. It hurt too much when I did then. It’ll hurt more if I have to go through it again.”

As you look into his eyes, and just after you admit this feeling for him, more questions begin to arise. They come flooding your thoughts just as rapidly as the rise of hope you feel blooming in your chest.

Is this how your story with him going to end this time? With a happy ending, where you are going to be walking on the same path with him again?

Before you can find the answer, Namjoon lifts you up and carries you back to your bedroom. Like always, the moment you are in his arms again, all rational thoughts are gone out the window, leaving only wanton needs filling your mind. He lays you down on your bed and lowers himself above you, pressing you down with the length of his body. Your body welcomes him as he settles between your legs, making you acutely aware of the hard lines of his cock pressing down on you.

It might have been the fact that your emotions are running wild within you that your body feels so sensitive and it reacts instantly to his touch. It makes you hyperaware of everything that is happening around you and all that you are feeling from him. The heat of his body, his rapid heartbeat, and the rush that comes building within you from his gentle touch.

As Namjoon presses his weight down on you, your hips rise to meet him. The moment your mouths meet each other in a deep kiss, your body begins to move, rocking and grinding against his covered hard-on that suddenly feels to be carrying more weight.

“I…need you,” you find yourself pleading as you rock your hips against him, rubbing your covered heat against his length. Your carnal need to feel his touch overpowers you so intensely that you fail to tell him that you are feeling this need because you want this to be real. You want him to show you what words would never be able to convey.

But there is no need for you to say it out loud, when he gets it. When the look he is giving you tells you that this is exactly what he needs as well. A groan slips out of his mouth just before he pushes himself up and gets to work. In your desperate need to touch each other, both of you move in haste, almost ripping your clothes apart in the rush to get yourselves bare.

Namjoon wastes no time once every piece of clothing is gone, pressing down on you and devouring your lips until you are left breathless, and your mind is silent. Even without a word, he is telling you everything that he is unable to give you through the kiss. Giving you everything that he wants to say to you by showing it through his actions.

His kiss doesn’t relent as he grabs your hips, holding you in place while he settles right between your parted legs. Every move he makes is so gentle. He moves with so much grace and tenderness that you feel at ease, even when your heartbeat is racing so rapidly and your body is tense as you anticipate his pure loving.

Lifting your legs up to spread them wider, he pulls away from the kiss and slowly begins crawling his way down your body. You barely have your eyes fluttering close when you feel his hot mouth capturing your nipple, his wet tongue circling around it once, twice, before he moves to the other and gives it the same treatment. With his tenderness, he draws a series of soft moans from your lips, and then he continues his journey down the rest of your body.

“I feel like I want to take my time with you. Like there is really no need for us to rush,” Namjoon says with a deep, gentle voice, making his intention clear without having to say the words out loud, though you can still clearly hear the need in his calming words.

Your eyes are fluttering close yet again as he grows closer and closer to the source of your heat. Your hips are lifted when you feel his lips brushing against your mound, then you react with a moan as you feel his tongue pressing down between your hot folds.

Using his hands on your hips, he carefully tilts your body up, just slightly off the bed so he can dive straight in and bury his head between your legs. Grasping the sheets with both of your hands, you lift your hips and start moving, rocking gently into his mouth to chase away the pulses within. It seems to urge him on, when he lets go of all the tenderness as he licks at your folds, before finding your clit and clamping his mouth hard around it.

“Namjoon—!” A sharp cry comes out of you as he moves his tongue in circles, tasting around your tender bud and lapping at your arousal.

You run your hands through his hair, almost pressing him deeper into you as he works his mouth and tongue to draw out your essence. But there is a change here in the way he is devouring you. His hunger feels subtle, replaced by something else that feels more sensual and luscious as he takes what he wants gently instead of sucking you hard and fast the way he usually would.

Namjoon remains there for a while longer, savouring your taste and getting lost in giving you pleasure. He keeps going, following the sounds that you are making and your reactions to guide his next movements. A flutter arises from within your tight walls, drawing a low moan from him when he can feel it too. His hand tightens on you as your legs quiver against his head, holding you down as you start thrusting against his mouth to chase your release. Keeping you down with one hand, he quickly moves his other hand up. As his mouth moves to capture your clit, his fingers replace his sinful lips, parting your folds and slipping inside, spreading you open before stroking them into your pulsing walls.

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry out as your body rises at the snap of your tight coil, and a rush of pleasure takes flight within you, sending you to your blissful release.

Keeping one hand touching gently at your pussy, Namjoon pulls his mouth away and starts climbing his way back up. Hot, wet kisses trail up your stomach, then your breasts, stopping briefly to tease around your nipples while his hands trail up the sides of your body to your breasts, before he comes up to kiss you hard on your lips.

“I need to be inside you,” he murmurs against your lips, drawing a soft whimper from you when you want the exact same thing.

He shifts on the bed, and you can already feel the heat and weight of his cock as it falls against your center. Your legs are spread around him, almost like your body has been programmed to welcome him inside you. Lowering himself on you, Namjoon presses into you gently, drawing out this moment for as long as he likes it despite the burning need that is practically vibrating throughout his entire body. But things quickly switch up when he slowly slides inside you, taking his time burying his length inside your warmth.

You moan at the pleasure he brings you and slowly buck your hips against his body as you wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly just when he continues moving. With his hands on your hips, he thrusts into you again, drawing the sound of your cry of pleasure. And he keeps at it, moving in and out of you with steady and firm thrusts, filling you up completely. Deep groans keep coming out of his lips at the way your pussy is wrapped around him in a claiming grip.

As the pleasure heightens, both of your bodies tremble together. His jaw seems tight, a clear evidence that he is trying his damn hardest to hold back and make it last. But just like how you are quickly overcome with the increasing pleasure, you can tell that he is slowly getting taken over by his own pleasure. Digging your nails into his skin, you rock your hips to meet each of his thrusts, moaning and arching your back as you give in to the surging rush you feel from his intense fucking.

“Keep going, baby. I need…more,” you start begging him when you are reaching so close, the coil in your stomach tightening when you are teetering on the edge, already at the brink of your release.

At your words, he responds to you with a firm thrust. One that comes so powerful that it sends your body rising from the bed and shaking at the wave of bliss that comes with it. You take a sharp inhale of breath and hold onto him tighter, anticipating the climax that you are so ready to embrace, only to have him come to a halt.

“Keep holding onto me, baby,” he says with a deep groan as you open your eyes to look at him.

Before you can say a thing, he slides his arm around your waist and starts pulling you up with him as he sits back on his haunches. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to his chest and helps you straddle his lap while keeping his cock buried deep inside you. Once you are settled on his lap, his cock seems to penetrate into you deeper, pushing into your depth and making you feel completely full.

“Fuck—so deep!”

A low chuckle comes out of him. As if he enjoys hearing this coming from you and taking it as a compliment. With his arms tightening around you, Namjoon begins to move again, rocking gently beneath you as he thrusts his cock deep inside your pussy, starting slow at first and steadily picking up its pace once your body is adjusted to him in this new position.

The pressure keeps building, and in its rise, your body reacts to every movement, every action, meeting each of his thrusts with your own rocking as you slide up and down his cock to ride the pleasure.

“That’s it. Ride me, baby,” he says, coaxing you to keep moving. Using your arms on his shoulders as leverage, you rock faster against him, riding the high that comes as he fucks you from beneath and whimpering to each delightful rush that you feel as your walls brush along the length of him. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. You feel so perfect for me.”

His voice sounds strained with his undying desire, and once you feel his entire body shudder beneath you, you know that things are about to go intense. “I can’t hold back this time, baby,” he groans, drawing a gasp out of you as he pounds into you with a powerful thrust.

“Then don’t. Fuck me, baby. I need it, I need to feel you, please.”

He holds you tighter as he kicks things up to a notch and starts fucking you with all of his worth, as he pours all of his emotions into everything that he is giving you. As you clutch around him tightly, his thrusts keep getting faster and desperate, growing more erratic with his deep passion that seems to overflow.

Sliding his hand up your back, Namjoon takes a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck to him. His mouth finds your skin and he begins trailing hot kisses from your collarbone to your neck, finding his way up to kiss your lips. With his kiss, he swallows the sound of your moans as he steadily rocks in and out of you, distracting you from the touch of his hands as he rubs them all over your body. His mouth moves towards your lobe and comes lower, pressing against your sensitive spot which draws a shiver through your body.

“Tell me that you’re mine. That you’ve always been mine,” Namjoon pleads with you with ragged breaths, tugging firmly at your heartstrings when you can feel the desperation in his words.

“I’m yours”—you gasp as he thrusts back inside you so deep you can feel it all over your body—“I’ve always been yours, and I always will be.”

Once again, his entire body shudders against you. Though you can easily tell that he is responding to you with a whole different reason this time. As if your words are the ones that are snapping him out of his final restraint. You use the chance to rock back against him, pressing down as he pushes up, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your depth until you are shaking on top of him.

As your bodies move together in a steady rhythm, he lowers his hands down your waist and guides you to move. “Keep riding me that way, baby. That’s it, cum around my cock,” he grunts, moaning in between his words with the pleasure you are bringing into his body. “Let me see you cum.”

His words and his touch guide you as you move above him, chasing your high. You cry out as he slams hard into you. Your head falls back, loving how perfectly his cock is stretching your walls. The pressure keeps growing more intense. You can feel your orgasm building inside you as he continues thrusting into you hard and fast. The moment the first wave of your climax hits, your body arches into him, inadvertently rubbing your clit against his skin and the line of coarse hair under his navel, and it sets you off instantly.

You are coming so hard that it feels like you are about to explode. Your muscles spasm around his cock, against his body, and the feeling surges through your whole body that you can feel the burning heat rushing everywhere. The sounds you are making seem foreign to your own ears as you cry out in your climax. The high-pitched moans that are followed by the sound of your ragged breaths seem to linger while you are riding your orgasm until everything starts to wane.

The moment everything stops and you sag into his chest, you can feel that he is still hard inside you. Soft kisses bring you back to him, allowing you to feel the rock-hard shaft that is still embedded within you. Your pussy contracts intensely around him as he slowly lifts you up from his lap, pulling out his cock from your depth. Your head is still spinning as Namjoon lays you back down on the bed, barely recovering from your intense bliss, and he helps clear your foggy brain by kissing your lips gently, coaxing you to open your eyes.

“Turn around. I need to get deeper inside you,” he says, his voice sounding deep and raspy, strained with his need as he gently grabs your hips to guide you into position. “Get on your hands and knees for me, baby.”

Your body trembles at his voice and command. You can feel that he is being weighed down with his pent-up desire—and perhaps the exact same emotions that you are feeling now—and it puts you into action as you slowly turn around, giving your back to him.

Namjoon moves to take his place behind you, and you start grinding your ass to him as you feel him carefully shifting closer, and you can feel the heat of his body pressing against your skin. His hands come down to grab your hips, holding you still as he presses his body against your back. And then you feel him, the object of his desire, his cock that is still rock solid and still wet from your release as it comes pressing against your behind.

He slides one hand between your legs, finding your folds with the tips of his fingers. You let out a gasp as he presses his fingers against your clit. With only his tender touch, your body erupts and you can barely hold back from falling forward.

“Please”—you gasp breathlessly—“I can’t take it anymore. I’m so close.”

You can feel him shifting behind you, and he gently parts your nether lips while he positions his cock at your pussy. You feel a nudge, and you can already feel the head of his cock penetrating through your entrance, spreading your walls for him once again and making them pulse around his cock as he slowly slides his cock inside of you.

A moan comes out of your lips at the intense pleasure that you feel as he enters you, and the sound that you are making quickly intensifies when he wastes no time and begins rocking, moving in and out of you with ease despite the intense flutter of your walls around him.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good around me,” Namjoon moans deeply as he fills you up, inch by inch, making you arch your back when he reaches your depth. A small whimper comes out of you as you quickly readjust to his size. Your body has grown so used to his presence, and it should have been easy for your bodies to join together if not for the fact that you are still too sensitive after your previous climax. It takes a while before your muscles stop fighting against him, and he can finally start moving with more ease.

Once Namjoon finds his rhythm, he moves his hands from your hips, moving them underneath you until he finds your breasts. He cups each one with his palms as he fucks you from behind. His warm palms are pressing and kneading at your soft flesh while his deft fingertips are moving to play with your nipples, rubbing at them and pinching harder while he picks up speed.

It makes you feel breathless when the pleasure feels so intense. Each hard thrust that he gives you makes you feel as if you are about to shatter into pieces beneath him, yet his touch brings you back together again each time. The only thing you can do is close your eyes and bury your fingers deeper into the sheets as you enjoy every second, every thrust, and the delectable way his body is moving against you.

“Fuck me harder, baby,” you start begging him when the pleasure inside you increases, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your climax. So close, but you need more to get there. “Please, Namjoon…!”

After giving your breasts one last squeeze, Namjoon moves one of his hands back down to your hips, grabbing your flesh while he continues pounding into you from behind. He bends down, pressing his chest into your back when he whispers, “You’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel it, baby. You’re gripping me so tightly.” He groans as he speaks, overcome with his own pleasure as he keeps fucking you to your blissful end.

“Yes,” you cry out between your ragged breaths. “Please. I’m almost there.”

Instead of giving you what you want right away, he moves his other hand upward and wraps his palm around your throat. He gives a light squeeze, not enough to cut off your breath or to choke you, but enough to give tension which only intensifies the sensation you are feeling running through your body.

“Cum for me, baby,” he says with a firm voice, adding the pressure around your throat as he thrusts deeply into your pussy. “Give it to me one more time.”

His words and his rough handling of your body become the perfect spell to finally push you over the edge. Your orgasm builds inside you, increasing so intensely that your entire body shakes against him. And he keeps thrusting, pounding into you hard and fast, hitting all the right spots until you come to your final climax.

Your pussy clenches around him as the waves of your orgasm take you over, ripping through your body until you cry out in your release. It feels so intense that it pushes him towards his own edge. Namjoon comes into a climax with his face buried in the crook of your neck, his mouth comes pressing down on you as he bites a small part of your skin.

Every sound, every sensation blurs together in your bliss. Even the gentle rocking that he still keeps up as he slowly rides out his orgasm feels like it is happening outside of your body. Once everything wanes, neither of you makes a move to separate, and you take the moment to relish the remaining spasms of your climax that are growing numb.

“—love you.”

His gentle voice breaks through the blissful fog that you are currently being stuck in. Every sound comes fading in and out as they all return to you and his voice seems so distant that you nearly miss it at first. But then he presses his lips on your skin, finding your pulse, and his voice clears out the moment he speaks again.

“I love you. I always have.”

Thinking back, there had never been a moment where he ever spilled his entire heart like this. Not until the letter that he wrote for you, where he slipped those three magical words between the words that he wrote to get you to see the world that was built around him through his eyes.

Tears threaten to fall, and your eyes become blurry once again. Only this time, it isn’t the intense rush of pleasure that is blinding you, but the tears that are pooling from underneath your eyelids.

“I love you too,” you find yourself saying to him before a sob breaks through. Giving him the three exact words that you never got to say to him back all those years ago. “I loved you with everything that I have back then, and I still love you the same now.”

Once again, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His chest rumbles against your back when he releases a soft groan. Just when you start feeling content in his embrace, he carefully pulls out and untangles himself from you so he can flip you over.

Now lying on your back, you get a clear view of his face. His eyes are looking at you with an intense gaze, his lips are swollen from kissing you, and his cheeks are still flushed after his climax.

“Say it again,” Namjoon says with a gentle voice, the complete opposite of the firm touch that he is giving you as he takes your hands and entwines your fingers with his. “Say those words to me again.”

“I love you,” you whisper, drawing a soft sigh out of him. He lowers himself down, once again covering your body with his. You can feel his heartbeat racing in his chest as your bodies are pressed together, his lips hovering so close to your lips that you can feel his sharp inhale of breath and his slow exhale when he says,

“Again. I need to hear it.”

“I love you,” you gasp softly, though the sound fades when he gently kisses you.

“Again. Say it,” he murmurs against your lips, and when you answer him, your voice comes out louder, firmer, when you give him what he wants.

“I love you.”

You have heard of stories about meeting the perfect match for your soul, something that may only happen to those who are lucky enough in life to experience it. The once-in-a-lifetime occurrence where you fall deeply for someone and have the entire course of your life changing.

As you revel in his presence, you realize that this is it for you. That he is your person. The one that your soul recognises as its perfect pair. It feels terrifying to accept this rather than it is freeing. Because right at that moment, you instantly know that you will never be able to love anyone else again the same way you do him. You will never find the same kind of love, one that is devouring you from the inside, no matter how hard you would look for it.

And it terrifies you.

Ever since the beginning, you have been going through this with him by facing it moments by moments, always with one feet ready to turn towards the exit, always prepared to face it once it ends. Now that he is offering you a future together, it scares you deeply that the only thing you can do is to hold him tightly, afraid that your fragile hope would shatter if you ever let go.

I love you. I am writing it here, plain and clear just as how I feel it. Like how you gave me these same words in your old letter. The same letter that helped me open my eyes to see the truth between us. I love you. Those three words would never be enough to show how deeply I feel for you. Just how simple words would never be able to explain the reason why I have to walk away. If only our story had been written differently, maybe we could have the ending that we have always wanted. The perfect ending. An ending where you and I are together as one, forever, without being haunted by fear nor concern. Without having to wonder about what the world would think of us and forever be tainted with the repercussions of our sins. I will forever love you. That part of my truth will remain unchanged. Even if everything has changed between us.

Your hand trembles as you finish writing the last part of the letter that you are planning to send him.

It seems ironic to end everything through a letter. Only because it seems to you as if everything is coming to a full circle, when he was the one who sent you the letter which ended everything between you in the past, and now you are the one to pull the brakes with your words.

In truth, you never wanted this to end. Never once had you ever thought that you would decide to once again walk out of his life just when there was something to hope for. But this has to end. This time, however, you have the right reasons to call things off instead of simply trying to keep what small part of your dignity left intact after you had sacrificed your entire heart and soul just to love him.

Just like how you thanked the entire universe to allow your paths to cross each other’s once again so you could feel his love for one last time, you are now thanking the same universe for allowing you to see the light. To see the truth that neither of you had been willing to see.

You cannot remember how you found yourself strolling through the mall that night. It was six months ago, merely a couple of months after you began planning your escape, to be together with Namjoon after he promised you the rest of his forever.

But you remember exactly what you found, and how it forced you to open your eyes and face the reality that you had wistfully ignored. As if fate had intentionally taken you there that night to show you what you needed to see.

The pull that Namjoon has over you has always been—intense. Irrevocable. In a way that you could walk into a room and sense his presence before you could ever see him. That had been the reason why you managed to find him that night despite never knowing that he would be there. As you walked through the hall leading to the cafe which you regularly visited after working hours, and there he was, completely oblivious to your presence while he was dining in one of the restaurants nearby.

And he was not alone.

In your head, you have had the perfect portrayal of what kind of life that he has with the woman that he married, formed through everything that he had once shared with you. But that image went down the drain after what you saw that night.

You had thought that she was the light in his life. The one person who has claimed the special place in his life, to be right by his side.

But you were wrong this whole time. Neither you nor her had ever been his light, nor had you ever deserved to claim that special place in his heart, when it had already been reserved for someone else. Someone who was more deserving.

And you only realised it then, when you saw him there with his baby daughter sitting on his lap. As you watched him tending to her needs with full of care while watching her lovingly as the small child blabbered silly nonsense to him over their little dinner date. Every illusion that you ever had about his life shattered the moment you saw the smile on his face. The way he looked so happy, so free, a sight of his that he had never shown anyone else before. Not even to you.

Witnessing everything that was presented before your eyes, you realised how blind you have been. Though you also realised that Namjoon had always been able to make you feel that way, to prevent you from looking at the world around you whenever he had you wrapped in his arms. He had kept you in the dark for so long, veiled from the reality where his other life still existed, kept safely in a far distance where you wouldn’t be able to reach.

That was the moment when you finally woke up from your dream. To realise that it would never be possible for the two of you to be together. Not without facing a heavy repercussion—like hurting an innocent soul and shattering whatever image that she had ever created of her father.

That was when you decided that you had no place in his life.

When you stepped away from the scene, the fractures in your heart presented themselves to you, reminding you that they were never truly gone as they manifested with each step that you took to walk away. The strong urge to turn back around kept weighing you down. Yet you resisted, choosing not to ruin what was possibly the sole reason that he ever had to hold on to the life that had kept him isolated even from himself.

Namjoon might think of you as a coward, because that is exactly what you are. And what you have been doing for the past half of year has been nothing more but a coward move that no doubt has been hurting him since the moment you took that fated decision. Just when he was finally ready to fight for the life that he wanted to build with you, you had instead chosen to run.

But you chose not to disappear from his life right away. You could never do that to him after everything that you shared together. And you needed a proper closure, to relish some more time with him and create more memories while you were slowly planning your departure. Starting by gradually avoiding his texts and calls and using your busy days as your excuse to see him less frequently as before. It pained you to hear his disappointment whenever you evaded him, and it hurt even more when you had to swallow your words, forcing you to keep the big secret that you had intended to share with him the night you saw him with his little girl.

During this period of time, something else had helped strengthen your resolve, making you more determined to move forward with your decision to leave.

The conversation that you had with him about his life and the relationship that he has with his wife has been haunting you ever since that picnic date, way before you finally got to see him showing his love that was so pure to the one poor soul that you could never afford to hurt. For a period of time since, you have wondered if what he has truly been searching for with you was nothing alike to what you have desired to find by loving him.

You realise now that you can not be his saviour. And when you realised just how much younger and inexperienced you had been when you first met him, you have started to wonder if he had been trapped in the same situation that he has with his wife, when he had created an ideal version of you in his head that he thought he had fallen in love with instead of the person that you are today.

What would happen if you were right and you had chosen to stay?

You had thought that you would be ready to face everything being thrown your way to fight for your love. But would you be able to face the same despair that he has been facing through his life, only to remain to be the same person that he loved, even when a lot of things have changed?

You look over to the pile of suitcases that have been set up in the corner of the room, ready to be lifted away from this place. Somewhere inside, there are a few of his things that you have collected and are planning to keep. Among them would be one of his shirts that you would often wear to sleep at night or when you are lounging alone at home. For some reason, that shirt has become your favourite among his other belongings. You love breathing in the scent of cologne that still sticks on its fabric, though it has grown fainter with time and from being washed over and over, yet it seems like everything about him still remains strongly in your memories that you can still sense everything about him all around you.

Deep down, you know you should feel guilty for keeping some of his belongings when you decided to leave. Despite your wish to be able to move on, you want to keep the memory of his presence in your life in some way. Yet his old belongings are not the only things that you are keeping to forever carry a part of him in your life.

For the first time ever, you can finally allow yourself to be greedy. Because this time, you have every reason to be this way.

A soft cry calls for your attention from the next room, so you leave the unfinished letter on the dining table and rush your way over. The corner of your bedroom that had once housed the big desk which he often used to work from home has now been replaced by a wooden crib. It isn’t anything fancy, just an old second-hand crib which you thrifted from a nearby vintage store. It was the only thing that you could afford under a short period of time and while you were saving up some money to move out of the city.

A move that would be costly now that there are the two of you instead of you alone.

The cries soften immediately once you look down from above the crib, cooing softly at the sweet baby who is looking back at you with a pair of wide, teary eyes. Seeing his face makes you smile, even when uncertainty plagues you. You always wonder what kind of world he is seeing through his eyes. If he is just as terrified as you are for the future that lies ahead of you.

“Why are you awake this late, baby?” you coo at your baby boy as you gently lift him up in your arms. He fusses a little in your hold, but the crying comes to a halt once you have him pressed against your heartbeat. “You can’t be hungry already. Were you scared because I wasn’t around when you woke up?”

As your baby makes his cute baby noises with his eyebrows furrowed as if he is complaining at your absence, you feel that same fear gripping at you from deep within. The fear that first started to manifest inside you the moment you saw those lines staring back at you from the home-kit pregnancy test. The fear that kept on growing while you were busy contemplating how you were ever going to give the news of your pregnancy to him before you left. It wasn’t your intention to keep this from him, yet there had been too many risks that you would have to face should the news of him having a baby outside of his marriage ever comes to light.

In the end, you had decided to keep things to yourself. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of him losing the admiration that his little girl had for him, nor have you had the courage to face the condemnation that may follow once the presence of his illegitimate son is revealed. It took a lot of effort on your part, but you still managed. Hiding your pregnant belly for an entire nine months had been quite a feat, and it would have never been possible if not for the growing distance which allowed you to evade his perusing gaze while the baby was growing rapidly within you.

If it had only been you who would have to face it, you would be willing to face the challenge of building a life with Namjoon with your head held high. But your son doesn’t deserve any of the pain. He doesn’t deserve being placed in the shadows and living the kind of life that you had with his father because he needs to remain a dirty little secret. And he doesn’t deserve feeling less than he should because his father had reserved that special place in his heart for someone else. When he had already promised his entire universe for her daughter.

As you hold your sweet little child in your arms, you feel a new kind of resolve. Tomorrow, as you make your final exit from this place, along with your suitcases and everything else that are precious to your heart and your sweet baby boy in your arms like this, you will be sending that letter in the mail.

Just like how he did it then before he left the city to be with her.

“Everything is going to be okay, baby. It’s going to be just you and me, but we’ll get through it, won’t we?” you whisper to your child who is now smiling at you, as if he knows that you are in dire need of his reassurance to get through everything. It feels painful still to look into his eyes, finding the gaze that seems so similar to his father’s that your breath gets caught each time, and the dimple that appears on his cheek which mirrors the one that you loved. You close your eyes and press your lips on your son’s forehead as you silently pray to the universe that you are choosing the right path this time. That everything will be okay once tomorrow comes.

Tomorrow, you will say goodbye for the life that you have here. To all the memories that you have created with Namjoon, and the shadows of your past that are filled with his presence.

It would be a terrifying thing to do. But this time, you are ready. Ready for a new life. A new start. Ready to find the love that you deserve to have. And you will be ready to write your own ending.

It won’t be perfect. It may never will be. But it will still be yours.

⤑ Author’s Note | This was quite a journey to have and it took me longer to finish than I actually thought it would. How did we ever got to this point with such a lengthy story, I really have no idea. This story was originally planned (or unplanned) to be Namjoon’s birthday fic, yet here we are now, a month later and I’m just releasing this one so late. I hope that this story can entertain you in a way, and that you enjoyed this little adventure that I’m sharing with you. Thank you for reading and for getting this far. Please kindly leave likes/kudos if you enjoyed the story, leave comments and questions if you have any, and any kind of feedback will be welcomed. Thank you again for reading!

#k-vanity #bangtanwhq #bangtansorciere #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #rm smut #rm scenarios #rm angst #rm fanfic

519 notes · View notes