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aquagustd · 2 years

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hell is empty - JJK, KTH

05. LURK ༄moodboard

life has a tendency to throw things your way when you least expect it, when you’re content, and the ominous presence knows exactly how to steer your existence back into the darkness.

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pairing — drug lord!jungkook x reader, hotel owner!taehyung x reader

genre/rating — R | angst, fluff, smut, love triangle au

word count — 9.8K

warnings/tags — single parent!reader, ceo!taehyung, dad!jk, pharmacy tech!reader, ex-boyfriend!jk, past hoseok x reader, strong language, tae & jk’s fits, huge pool partay, alcohol consumption, flirting oop, it’s fluffy asf, passive aggressiveness, jealousy, possessive tae & jk, pride, lots of feelings, overthinking, panic attack, mentions of injury, mentions of guns & blood, explicit smut — dom!taehyung, quickie?, dirty talk, degradation/praise, oral (m), throat fucking, cum eating, hair pulling, biting/scratching, foot riding, edging

note: there is a time skip !! junho’s birthday is early May & part 04 took place in March - anyways I hope my readers enjoy this part (it’s the fluffiest) also i think it’d be good to read/re-read the drabble (fast forward) bc there’s some ~parallels~

“Are you excited?”

Junho fits his pointer finger into his cheek, wobbling as you try to fix his tie.

“Hold still,” you chide, gripping his shoulder so he wouldn’t bounce away from your struggling hands. “Are you excited, smiley?”

“Mhm, I can’t wait to see Sihyun again. I never see him for ages!”

Loosening the knot a bit, you set the maroon fabric against his belly and begin tucking his shirt into his cream pants, hoping you won’t spoil his mood with your next words.

“Smiley…Sihyun’s mother didn’t really get back to me. I’m not sure if he’ll be here today, but you’re gonna have so much fun with your new friends, right?!”

His smile sags a bit, the tips of his shoes knocking into one another, “I wish he would come.”

You coo, pulling him to your chest, “I know baby.”

“Hey! You’re matching the couch mama!”

Tilting your head to the side slightly, you giggle, knowing that you wouldn’t have noticed it yourself because you are in fact blending in with the beige couch. You grab the baseball cap Junho had picked out, hesitating before you place it on his head. Bam, Jungkook’s Doberman, waits patiently for Junho, ears perking when you call for him.

“Are you sure you want to wear this? You don’t wanna change into your swimming trunks now? Since we’re—”

“No!” He shrieks, poking his head between your hands, “dad and I are matching today. I’m only gonna swim later!”

You sigh, lowering the cap onto his tiny head of hair, “okay. There.”

His cheeks puff out with a smile, hands kept at his sides as he awaits your countless compliments.

“You look—”

“Handsome.”

Your head snaps up in the direction of the voice. Jungkook glides down the staircase, wearing a replica of your son’s outfit. Junho rushes into his arms as if he didn’t spend the night here, more than amused by the fact that he and his father are dressed the exact same. Even if you’re a bit peeved by the idea, you can’t help but find it rather cute. Especially when they’re both sporting the same bunny smile.

Jungkook’s gaze flits to you, and you find your spine going taut, smile falling.

“Dad isn’t mama matching the couch? You and I are matching and she and the couch are matching,” he laughs, waddling his way onto your lap.

Jungkook stands on the other side of the oblong coffee table, a streak of sunlight hitting the dimple in his cheek. You clear your throat, rising to your feet as you set Junho on the ground, fixing his cap to occupy yourself.

“I told Smiley he should just change into his swimming trunks now, instead of having to change again later.”

Jungkook’s head cocks to the side, fiddling with his sleeves, “no we have to welcome our guests in style. Isn’t that right, Junho?”

Junho nods furiously, rocking on his heels, “yes. Show them how the Jeons do it.”

Your eyes widen with awe, hearing Jungkook’s chuckle behind you, “Smiley?”

Junho, although a little bashful, grins proudly, repeating his words as if you didn’t hear him clear enough the first time. Of course, he’s just parroting Jungkook’s words, but you don’t find it any less amusing.

“Hey, uhm,” Jungkook takes a step toward you, thrusting his tattooed hand in your direction, “can you fold it for me?”

“Oh, okay.”

Fighting off your surprise, you try not to scratch his warm skin with your freshly manicured nails, jaw tight as you feel his stare on your face.

“How many kids will be here? Just Junho’s friends from school?”

“Uhm yeah…around eight-nine. Not sure if Sihyun and his mother will show.”

You pat his hand to indicate that you’re done, a habit you had formed over the years with Junho around. He lifts his other arm, the other sinking into his pocket.

“And your friends?”

Your eyebrows furrow, shooting him a quizzical look, “hm?”

“I said you could bring who you want. Are any of your friends gonna come?”

“Oh, yeah just…you know, Yoongi and Yuri, if that counts,” you chuckle flatly, hesitating with your next words, “erm Hoseok, yeah.”

If he feels any way about you inviting Hoseok over, to his house, he doesn’t show it.

“Anyone else?”

Your mouth quirks to the side, smoothing your fingers over the neat fold you made, “not really.”

“What ab—”

You roll your eyes, “of course he’s coming, why would you even ask?”

His arm falls from your hold, a shrug accompanying his words, “I dunno. I mean, I had to ask.”

“Well,” you begin, brushing Junho’s fringe away from his face, “I did plan this entire thing, we’re just having it here because Smiley insisted.”

“Nah,” Jungkook tsks, scratching behind his ear, “you didn’t plan the entire thing. You just handled the boring parts.”

You scoff, ready to spit your own insults before you catch the teasing grin on his face, anger simmering away.

Clearing your throat, you step around Jungkook to grab your phone, shooting Taehyung a quick text. He shuffles around you to sit on the ottoman near the entryway, busy on his own phone before you call for his attention.

“If you stay out of his way,” you begin, voice stern, “he’ll stay out of yours.”

Junho opens his mouth to answer, but the click-clack of heels upstairs catches your attention. Sora sashays to Jungkook after struggling to walk down the stairs in her neon pink heels. Your jaw drops when you catch what she’s wearing. Bikini-clad figure bending down to kiss Junho on his forehead, his cheeks caught between her fingers.

Jungkook’s chest deflates with a sigh, and even if he tries to keep his voice low, arms snug around her shoulders, he does a poor job at whispering.

“Why don’t you put something else on, hmm?”

“But—I thought it’s a pool party.”

“It is,” he begins, nose buried in her hair.

“Then I can wear this. What you expect me to dress like her?”

“No, no. I didn’t say that.” She shoves him away, clearly mad at him and you sense that he’s even angrier. You decide to step onto the patio, pulling Junho with you, knowing that it’s rude to eavesdrop. Even if you were – just a moment ago.

Excitement builds when you take note of the number of cars that wait to enter through the gates – one in particular has your heart skipping a beat.

“Smiley, wait here, okay?”

“Okay.”

Stopping yourself from breaking into a run, you watch as the guard directs Taehyung into the parking space, waiting to the side before he steps out, gaze finding yours immediately. He stalks in your direction, tongue wetting his bottom lip as he pulls off his sunglasses, gaze raking up and down your figure. Joy bubbles in your chest, wanting nothing more than to press your lips to his.

Whistling lowly, he places his hands on your hips, voice that same husky baritone that has the pit of your stomach tightening.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” you giggle, suddenly shy under his praise.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, nose tracing your jaw before it presses into the shell of your ear, “I missed you.”

“Hm,” you sigh, arms winding around his shoulders, “missed you too. Sorry I couldn’t talk much yesterday.”

He pulls away slightly, long fingers sliding down your cheek, “it’s alright.”

Before you melt on the spot – the warm weather having nothing to do with it – you step back to admire his outfit, chuckling when you point to his shorts.

He holds up his hands defensively, “it’s a pool party, right?”

“Yeah,” you snort, hand falling to his chest, “you should see what Junho is wearing.”

Eyes skating across the yard behind you, he slots his hand into yours, thumb caressing your knuckles.

“How’s your ex doing? No outrageous demands from him yet?”

Chuckling, you reach up to fix the chain around his neck, knowing that just as you warned Jungkook – you would need to warn Taehyung as well. Because the two of them enjoy getting the other riled up. They make it too easy.

Taehyung clicks his tongue after hearing your warning, arm falling over your shoulders, “yeah, yeah. I know.”

“I’m serious, Taehyung. I want Smiley’s birthday to go smoothly.”

You watch his lips form a pout as he nods, the hand near your shoulder twisting a lock of hair, “yeah.”

Steering Taehyung along the pathway, the two of you make your way to the terrace where the noise grows, more and more guests adding to the commotion. A few of which you don’t recognize.

He peeks over his shoulder to his car, “where is smiley? I’ll give him his gift later on.”

A familiar squeal of your name behind you forces you to break out Taehyung’s hold and rush toward her, squeezing her small frame in a tight hug.

“Yuri!”

“Man,” Taehyung says from behind you, words directed to your best friend’s grumpy husband, “she wasn’t even that excited to see me.”

“And they saw each other yesterday,” Yoongi adds, annoyance lacing his tone.

“Shut up okay? I only saw her for like a split second because you needed to go home,” you tease, seeing Yoongi struggle with the large box in hand, wrapped in cyan foil. “There’s a table for gifts near the barbecue area, you can leave it there.”

Yoongi huffs, while you’re fussing over the dress Yuri finally settled on, knowing how indecisive she could be.

“Good to see you again,” Yuri smiles at Taehyung, following you further into the garden, “so what’s the plans for today?”

“Well,” you begin, listing off each activity on your fingers, “first, we’re gonna have some mingling time, then get the kids to the pool – they have the indoor pool, we’re outside – after that, we serve lunch, but there will be snacks available before that, then a small clown show for the kids, Taehyung’s brother Seokjin sponsored the bounce house, that reminds me—” you turn to Taehyung “—is your brother coming today?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung answers, although a little uncertain, “he’ll stop by a bit later. Also, a friend of mine might come along, is that fine?”

“Of course. It was so kind of him, you know how much kids love stuff like that. And erm��oh yeah, we cut the cake etcetera, then the guests can present the gifts, that’s all. But the adults’ activities carry on till the evening.”

“Oooh,” she smirks, “you sure Junho’s birthday party wasn’t just an excuse for you to throw one for yourself at Jungkook’s place?”

Taehyung slides an arm around your waist, poking into your conversation, “hey, I offered to have it at my house, but Junho wanted it here.”

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I mean, it’s his first birthday with his dad around so…”

Yuri’s eyes soften, “yeah. He deserves to have it the way he wants. Where is he anyway?”

You shield your eyes from the sun as you step around the corner to the pool area, spotting Jungkook and Junho stand in a similar posture. Jungkook chats to one of the other dad’s while Junho hands Jaehyun a balloon. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

“There.”

Yuri sniggers, “oh my God. Each time I see him I’m shocked at how much Junho looks like his dad. It’s crazy.”

“Let’s greet them.”

Taehyung and Yuri climb up the stairs to wear Junho stands, crouching in front of him before he accepts their hugs and kisses. You watch from afar with a sombre smile on your face.

“He’s growing up too fast.”

You startle, hand placed on your chest as Yoongi stands next to you, a similar smile on his face.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I couldn’t tell the difference between him and Jungkook,” he chuckles, gesturing with his drink, “whose idea was it to wear matching outfits?”

You break out of your daydream, “uh I have no idea.”

Yuri returns with two drinks in hand, holding one in your direction. You peek into the cup, then crane your neck to look into Yoongi’s.

“This is for the kids,” you giggle, “there’s more inside.”

“It’s good,” Yoongi compliments, smacking his lips, “who made it?”

“Me,” you grin, “it’s a passionfruit mix.”

“It is tasty, you’ll have to give me the recipe,” Yuri asks with a threatening finger raised, slotting herself between you and Yoongi.

Your eyes are set on Taehyung and Junho, Jungkook’s watchful gaze boring into the top of his head before their eyes meet, exchanging a small greeting as Taehyung saunters to the refreshments table. You exhale a breath of relief.

“Good to see they’re acting civil.”

You scoff, cup held to your lips, “only because I gave them both a warning.”

Yoongi dips his head to press a kiss to Yuri’s temple, “I’ll be back.”

“Okay. Where’s Seojoon? I haven’t seen him yet.”

Finishing the rest of your drink, you deposit the cup into the trashcan nearby, “didn’t invite him.”

Her round eyes widen, “what? Why?”

You shrug, arms folded, “he’s been acting weird lately,”

“Hm,” she raises an eyebrow, “he’s been acting weird, or you don’t need him anymore? Smiley liked him a lot.”

“No,” you sigh, ignoring the guilt nagging at the back of your mind, “it’s not like that. He just…every time he comes over…I just get this uncomfortable feeling and it doesn’t help that he’s being so touchy lately!”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah,” you exclaim with a shudder, “I don’t know why…but—"

“Hey,” Yuri calls, placing a hand on your shoulder, “it’s alright babes. Let’s get some more of this delicious punch.”

You snort, letting her pull you toward the refreshments table. You spot Taehyung talking to a tall man who you recognize as—

“Namjoon?”

“Oh,” the tall man offers a dimpled smile, gripping his own cup of passionfruit punch, “how are you?”

“Good,” you smile, gaze flitting to Taehyung who’s scanning the snack table, “what about you?”

“Good.”

You wouldn’t call it awkward – but the silence feels so, knowing that Namjoon is aware of what a mess your life is, when he could be considered a stranger.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat, voice dropping, “how’s co-parenting going?”

Throwing your head back with laughter, you catch the playful smile he’s wearing, eyes crinkling with mirth.

“I mean—” he goes on, taking a sip of his drink “—it could be considered a serious question.”

You shake your head, holding up the charcuterie board to him, “guess so. Going well…I think.”

He plucks a grape, head swivelling in Jungkook’s direction, “and Junho’s dad? I thought he might strangle me during our last session.”

Your gaze travels to Jungkook who’s tying up the balloons Junho hands him. His eyes meet yours and you swallow, turning to Namjoon.

“Nah, it might seem like that, but we appreciate your help with Junho. How’s he doing in school?”

“You only ask because you know I never have complaints,” he cackles, taking another swig of his drink.

“Of course,” you jest, throwing him a wink.

“Well,” he begins, tone turning serious, “I’m glad things are working out for you two. You have no idea how happy Junho is to have both his parents around. It’s all he talks about.”

A lump forms in your throat, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, reaching for your shoulder, “I won’t be able to stay for too long. I already gave Junho his gift. Was good seeing you again.”

“You too.”

If you didn’t have your cup to hold onto, you would’ve been trembling, knees ready to give out. You want nothing more in life than for Junho to be happy, and it’s not like you haven’t noticed a change in him either. Perhaps you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but ever since Jungkook came around, he’s been buzzing with energy, his smiles brighter. That’s all you ever wanted. And you’d do anything to hear his laughter, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness.

“Hey, uh,” Jungkook jogs toward you, pointing to the group of kids who cluster near Junho, “I’m gonna take the kids inside now. Or do you wanna do it and I’ll take care of everyone on the yard?”

“Uh,” you shrug, “anything.”

His eyebrows knit together, “you sure?”

“Yeah.”

He scratches the back of his head, “you take them inside. I think Junho would like that.”

“Okay.” You turn to Taehyung, gesturing for him to follow you.

“Mama!”

“Hi guys! It’s so nice to finally meet all Junho’s friends,” you titter, crouching in front of them so you can pinch each of their cheeks. “Why don’t you guys tell me your names and then we can go inside to the pool? Yeah?”

They cheer, nearly toppling you over with how they rush toward you and fight to say their names first. You try to remember them all as best as you can, pausing in your step when you see Taehyung lift one of the girls into his arms. The sight has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Okay guys, Junho take my hand. Follow me!”

Junho tugs at the hem of your dress, eyes filled with worry, “mama I need to change quickly.”

“It’s okay, I left your swimming trunks out near the pool.”

He nods, chubby cheeks bouncing with his steps. The girl in Taehyung’s arms keeps her twinkling eyes on his face and he doesn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it.

“Are you Junho’s dad?” You hear her ask, the question catching you off guard.

“I’m—"

“Junho said he has two dads,” she informs, the cutest little pout to her lips. You await Taehyung’s response, but he turns to you, clearly taken aback by her statement.

“If Junho says he has two dads,” you shrug, “then I guess he does.”

Junho leaps away from you, “see! I told you!”

“Aw,” she marvels, now clutching Taehyung’s jaw, “that’s so cool. I only have one dad and he doesn’t like to buy me cotton candy.”

You push the sliding door open, light reflecting off the shallow water dancing across their faces, “well, we got cotton candy here today especially for you.”

Her eyes light up, but soon her attention falls behind you, wriggling out of Taehyung’s arms. You follow the other kids as they scatter around the pool.

“Be careful guys! Junho let’s get you dressed,” your voice echoes in the brightly lit space. Junho gave you a tour of his father’s house a few weeks ago, but the beauty inside this room steals your breath away like it’s the first time. Floor to ceiling windows giving you a picturesque view of Jungkook’s garden. Taehyung seems equally as shocked, hurriedly unzipping his jacket.

“What? Tae? You’re gonna swim too?”

He beams, “obviously, I have to keep an eye on the kids.”

“Bu—” All your complaints fade away when he shrugs off his jacket, black vest accentuating his toned body. He tosses his jacket on the charcoal grey sunbed behind him, clapping to get everyone’s attention.

You don’t have time to ogle his fine body because Junho is tugging you out of the capacious room, rushing to get changed.

“Mama I’m sorry you can’t swim.”

You’re sitting on the couch, helping him into his shorts, “it’s okay, Smiley.”

“I’m gonna teach you how to swim today.”

You giggle, “will you? But I didn’t bring any swimming clothes today.”

He looks at you as if facing a real dilemma, “aw man.”

“It’s okay,” you wink, tying the strings on his shorts, “next time.”

“You can dip your feet today!”

“Alright. Go on, your friends are waiting for you.”

He scurries away, nearly tripping on his feet as he mutters to himself animatedly. You’re busy stuffing his clothes into the overnight bag you packed when you sense movement behind you. Sora sits with her legs crossed on the couch, phone held above her face, away from the ruckus. You can’t help but notice that she’s not wearing her ring today, maybe she decided not to wear it, so it doesn’t get lost when she’s swimming?

She doesn’t notice your presence, but you hesitate before leaving, wondering if you should take this opportunity to get to know her better. You decide against it, remembering how your efforts went unappreciated the last time.

When you return to the pools, all you can hear is splashing and giggling, Taehyung’s hearty laughs muffling all the other sounds once you’re inside the room. He bounces the girl in and out of the water on his shoulders, taking her deeper before leaping back up.

“My turn next!”

“No mine!”

“Get in line!”

“Let’s give the birthday boy a chance,” Taehyung pants, holding his arms out for Junho who swims over to him, a shy smile on his face.

Taehyung throws a boastful grin at you, keeping Junho’s arms around his shoulders as he repeats his actions from earlier, receiving all sorts of reactions from the kids. You place your hands on your knees, speaking over the noise as you bend over the silver railing.

“Are you fine with staying with them for a bit? I’m gonna get more snacks and come back.”

He nods, hand running down his face to wipe away the water that Junho had just splashed on him, “yeah! I’m gonna get you for that—”

Chuckling, you can’t help but stop at the doorway as you watch them interact. Your heart brims with joy, seeing how comfortable Junho had gotten with Taehyung over the weeks that had passed. Taehyung, a little cocky, had admitted that he knows how to win a child’s heart, although kids like him naturally, and you had witnessed it for yourself today.

You’re a little surprised to see the number of guests that fill up the once deserted space, chatter filling the air alongside the warm zephyr. But there are only a few faces you recognize. Two men standing on the other side of the lawn, donned in brown jackets has you pausing. Their mouths move continuously, snapping away from each other when they catch you staring. Ignoring the frightful twist in your gut, you manoeuvre through the crowd to find Yoongi and Yuri, relieved.

“Oh thank God, who are all these pe—”

A guy wearing a leather jacket, boots crossed over one another as he leans against the fence behind Yoongi has the words dying on your tongue. He tips his head back as he finishes his drink, and even if the cup conceals half his face, you’d recognize that jaw anywhere.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, feet rooted to the spot.

He lowers the cup, crumpled in his hand before tossing it onto the table, surging forward to accept your bone-crushing hug. Your body has a mind of its own, face pressing into his neck as your eyes slip shut. Only when you feel his arms loosen around your shoulders, do you think to pull away, nose nearly brushing the collar of his jacket.

“How have you been?”

Exhaling a shuddering sigh, you cling onto the lapels of his jacket, “okay…and y-you?”

You can’t help the soft gasp that tumbles from your lips when he fits his finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“I haven’t seen you for nearly three years and you won’t even look at me?”

“I—”

Yoongi clears his throat, causing Hoseok to take a step back, heart-shaped smile easing your nerves. He smooths a hand over his head to push back his hair, yet it still collapses onto his forehead, making you smile. Realizing that not much has changed.

His eyes search the crowd behind you, “where’s my Spiderman?”

You wave a hand dismissively, “he’s over his Spiderman phase.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen, “really? What is he into these days?”

Yoongi pats Hoseok’s shoulder, “cars.”

“Cars? Dammit, my gift is this huge Lego Spiderman set. The lady at the store said that’s what the kids want these days.”

“It’s alright,” you chuckle, moving around to fill a few paper plates with snacks, “I’m sure Junho would love it anyway. He’s gonna be so happy to see you.”

“Jung Hoseok.”

Without lifting your head, you can sense Jungkook’s venomous gaze by his walk alone, bumping your shoulder as he thrusts his hand in Hoseok’s direction.

Hoseok’s lips remain in a terse line, “Jeon Jungkook.”

“Good to see you here. Came for Junho or his mother?”

“Jungkook,” you warn, only realizing that you grabbed his hand when his gaze drops to the point of contact. You move away, a tingling sensation coursing through your fingers.

Hoseok, unaffected by his comment, stands toe to toe with him, levelling his stare with his chin tipped up, “I could ask you the same question.”

“Yoongi,” you whisper-shout, heart thundering in your chest, “do something!”

Yuri nudges Yoongi, sharing your concern. But before Yoongi can intervene, Jungkook turns to you, voice cloyingly sweet when he says your name, “we need to fetch the cake.”

Puzzled, you search for a response, “what? Right now?”

“Mhm,” he looks to his clunky watch, “they said it’ll be ready by 1PM.”

“Oh uh, okay.” You turn to Yuri, handing her the heavy plates of food, “can you take this inside to the kids? And tell Taehyung that I’ll be back in a bit.”

She nods, lingering near you as if she doesn’t want to leave you alone with the seething men. You rush inside to fetch your purse and coat, seeing Jungkook wait diligently on the terrace.

Jungkook nods, hand held out in the direction of the driveway, “we’ll take my car.”

Your forehead creases, stopping short of the garden path, “why can’t I go alone?”

“Because,” he begins, reaching into his pocket to produce his car keys, “I have to pay for the cake and you need to sign for it because you placed the order.”

“I can pay for it myself,” you sneer, annoyance heightening especially with the condescending tone he’s suddenly using.

“I know that,” he laughs, retracting his statement, “I didn’t mean it like that, I want to do it. Since you bought all the food, the least I could do is buy the cake, right? Yoongi watch things for me!” He shouts over his shoulder, holding the passenger side door open for you.

Thanking him weakly, you hop in, and once inside, you’re hit by a familiar scent, one that has a million and one memories rushing into your mind. Even if Jungkook didn’t have this fancy car at the time – you’re swarmed by a wave of emotions.

“I like it when you’re out with me.”

“I’m always out with you.”

“Are you trying to kill us?”

“I wouldn’t mind if I die with you like this.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re my strong girl.”

“Hello?”

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality – a situation you never thought you’d be in ever again. Next to Jungkook.

“Are you okay? Did you drink too much?”

“No!” You shout, a little louder than expected, “no. I mean, can we just get the cake? The guests are waiting.”

He chuckles, low and raspy, “whatever you say.”

Slotting the key in, he starts up the engine, revving until you turn to look at him. Goofy smile on his face. Even goofier with the cap he’s wearing.

“I’m not Junho,” you remind, fist tucked under your chin, “that doesn’t impress me.”

“Okay, but this might.”

He speeds off onto the road, uncaring of the way your nearly bounce off the leather seat with each turn he takes.

“Jungkook—”

“Put on your seatbelt.”

You were too distracted by the smell in his car to even remember to put your seatbelt on, and you’re always scolding Junho for it. You’re aware that the patisserie isn’t too far from his house, yet the ride feels longer than it actually is, clutching the edge of the seat with white knuckles while he hollers and whoops. He rolls down his window a bit, causing your hair to fly into your face, snatching your breath away.

“Good?”

“WHAT?”

“Are you good?”

Your eyes burn with the wind, hair in a bird’s nest once he comes to a stop, “are you fucking kidding me?”

“I thought you—”

“What?”

“Are you trying to kill me, Jungkook? Fucking hell,” you groan, unclicking your seatbelt then stepping out of the car.

Just as you’re about to take the few steps inside the bakery, he grabs your wrist, doe eyes softened, “I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

You laugh, breaking out of his hold, keeping your voice light, “you sure? That’s…what? The second time now?”

He draws his lower lip between his teeth, “I just thought that—never mind.”

If you were to look closely, you’d see a flash of pain behind his dark eyes. You can’t handle the tender way he’s looking at you, the way your heart clenches in your chest once your eyes meet again. Turning on your heel, you march into the store, straight to the front counter to distract yourself from loud thumping of your heart, unwilling to succumb to the familiarity of his presence, the warmth that seems to glaze your heart bit by bit each time he would do something as simple as glance at you.

Because you remember that you were charmed by it before, only to be fooled. And you refuse to let it happen again. You cannot.

Jungkook’s forced to drive under 40mph because you’re holding the cake in your lap to prevent the icing from getting smudged, which means it takes you longer to return to the party, compelled to endure his presence for a little longer than you’d like. You’ve trained yourself to focus on the scent of your own perfume, an attempt at keeping any and all forms of nostalgia from influencing your emotions.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

“What?”

He turns to you for a second, pointing to the large cake box in your hands, “the cake.”

“Oh, of course,” you tut, “I’m the one who picked it.”

You’re awaiting his snarky comment, but receive none, just his laugh as he turns into the driveway. Tattooed hand gripping the steering wheel.

“Think you can manage?”

“Yeah.”

He gestures to your feet, “with those boots?”

“Yes, Jungkook.”

He walks alongside you, “you can leave it in the fridge in the meantime. Lunch will be ready in a bit.”

“Ok—shit.”

“Hey—” he steadies the box in your hands, fingers pressed to the small of your back once you find your footing “—be careful.”

“I’m alright,” you mutter a little embarrassed. But even if you repeat your words multiple times, his hand stays pressed to your lower back and it’s as if you had just discovered all the nerves that collate in that very spot, muddling up your thoughts all the way to the kitchen until he finally lets you go.

“Mr. Jeon, they’re waiting for you.”

Over your shoulder, you see the two men from earlier sitting in the dimly lit dining area, along with three other unfamiliar faces. You glance at Jungkook who’s busy on his phone, nodding to the burly man you remember as Mr. Kang, Jungkook’s assistant. From your place at the refrigerator, you have a clear view of Jungkook greeting each of them in the dining room, all their hats kept low over their eyes.

Unfortunately, you can’t hear what they’re discussing, but from the way they’re all bundled close together, Jungkook’s eyebrows pinched in concentration, you can tell that they want to keep it between themselves. And then you see it – the tattoo on one of the guy’s necks.

The refrigerator beeps thrice – alerting them of your presence.

“You okay there? Hwang help her out.”

“I’m good! Thanks,” you call, keeping the fear out of your voice as you sprint outside.

Jungkook shouts to your retreating figure, “lunch is being served now! I’ll be out in a bit.”

And then you’re thrusted into the crowd for the second time today, a sea of unfamiliar faces surrounding you, mumbling short greetings to whoever steps in your way before you finally break through and spot Yuri sitting at the table with the rest of the kids and their parents, chowing down a hotdog.

“Uh, Yoongi, Yuri, can I talk to you?” You say a little out of breath, gesturing for them to follow you behind the barbecue area.

You prop your hands on your hips, chest undulating, “I think—"

Yuri pats Yoongi’s shirt with a tissue, scolding him under her breath, “he got tangerine juice all over his shirt. You’re like a big baby.”

“I’m your big baby.”

“Aw.”

“Guys!”

“Yeah?” They say in unison, oblivious to the minor panic attack you’re having.

“I think that Jungkook—”

Yuri places a hand on your cheek, “what’s wrong?”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, “here she goes again.”

“Shut up.”

You place your hand over hers, shaking your head with a short chuckle, “I could be overthinking, but I think—”

“You’re probably overthinking.”

Yuri gives Yoongi and admonitory glare, he seems unrattled.

“I don’t know anyone here. Most of the people here. Who are they? And then the guys inside? They could be Yang’s guys! What the fuck are they doing here?”

Yoongi takes a step forward, speaking through gritted teeth, “keep your voice down. What makes you think that?”

“The the—tattoo and the—”

Yoongi throws his arms up with exasperation while Yuri whispers words of comfort that do nothing to quell your panic.

“What did you expect?” Yoongi laughs dryly, “this is Jungkook’s house. You think he’s gonna stop his business for a day? See, this is what she does. Makes poor decisions then cries about it.”

Your mouth falls open, “I am not crying!”

“Well, you look like you’re about to!”

“What’s going on?” Hoseok emerges from behind the wall, putting out his cigarette with the tip of his shoe.

Yuri rolls her eyes, “they’re bickering, as usual.”

“Nothing,” you snap, hoping Yoongi catches up to speed, “nothing Hoseok. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi affirms, plastering on a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “nothing of concern.”

He hums, scanning your face with narrowed eyes before taking Yoongi’s seat at the table, spooning mashed potatoes onto a clean plate. Both you and Yoongi know that Hoseok will turn this place upside down at any given chance.

“Look—” You follow Yuri’s gaze to the garden path across you, seeing all five men make their way to a grey SUV “—they’re leaving. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”

“Where’s Junho? And Taehyung? I don’t see them anywhere.”

“They’re still at the pool,” Yoongi informs, busy on his phone.

“I tried bringing him out to have lunch, but Smiley said he’s waiting for you,” she recalls, hand sliding up and down your arm.

“Okay, I’ll go get them. We still need to cut the cake.”

You pass Sora on your way to the pools, still sulking from her spot on the couch. As you’re nearing the sliding door, you hide behind the towel rack when you hear voices, seeing Taehyung place a hand on Junho’s back as he floats above the water. Taehyung’s vest hangs off the railing, back glistening when it catches the light.

“Keep your arms straight,” he instructs, pushing Junho’s hands closer, “that’s it.”

“You should be my swimming instructor,” Junho giggles, twisting around to fit his arms around Taehyung’s neck, bobbing in the water, “but you said you wanted to be a race car driver.”

“I did,” Taehyung admits, gaze hidden by the dark lighting.

“Why didn’t you? Why did you become a businessman?”

Taehyung pinches Junho’s flushed cheek, his deep chuckle prompting one of your own, although hidden.

“You’re so cute…Well, my dad…he…he was kind of like your dad.”

“Really? My dad was your dad?”

“No!” Taehyung cackles, swirling in the water, “I mean, your dad and my dad were similar. They weren’t around much.”

“But my dad is here now,” Junho objects, tiny ripples forming around his body compared to Taehyung’s.

You listen closely, hoping for more bits of information from Taehyung.

“That’s true. But my dad, he wasn’t there all the time, and he wasn’t as kind as yours. He didn’t want me to be a race car driver, that’s why I couldn’t.”

“Oh,” Junho says with a dejected slump to his shoulders, perking up a few seconds after, “but you still have lots of cars!”

“I do!”

“So you can be a race car driver.”

Taehyung sticks out his bottom lip in contemplation, “hmm maybe.”

“Hey, guys,” you announce, revealing yourself from behind the rack with two towels of varying sizes in hand, “time to come out. Otherwise, you’ll miss the clown show.”

“Mama! We were waiting for you for so long! You said you were gonna dip your feet. Come on.”

“Junh—”

“It’s his birthday,” Taehyung reminds, feigning a didactic tone, “you have to listen to the birthday boy.”

You narrow your eyes at Taehyung, he winks, gesturing for you to sit at the edge.

“Please!”

“Fine!”

Tossing the towels behind you, you lower to the edge with a hand on the railing and dip your big toe in, hissing at the temperature.

“It’s so cold!”

Junho chuckles with Taehyung, mimicking your squeals, “it will get warm! Just do it.”

Easing both your legs in till just below your knees, you get used to the temperature, kicking your feet in the water.

“Doesn’t it feel nice? Look, my fingers are old! Even his!”

You place your hands on either side of your thighs, gripping the lip of the pool, “that’s because you were in here for too long. Aren’t you guys hungry?”

“I am,” Taehyung admits, scrunching his nose when he turns to Junho, “what about you Smiley?”

“I am starving!”

Both you and Taehyung snigger, the sweet melody of his boyish laugh tinkering around you before you lock eyes. The corner of his mouth quirks into a smile.

“Hey Smiley?”

“Hm?”

“Remember our plan from earlier?”

Junho’s eyebrows furrow before they raise, a mischievous grin puffing out his cheeks.

“I remember.”

“What plan?”

The two of them glide toward you, eyes dancing. You raise your legs from the pool, ready to run away before it’s too late. One, huge splash of water wets the side of your dress. Junho continues splashing onto your face before you jump up to your feet, holding up your hands as a weak defence.

“Stop! I’m gonna get you guys for that!”

They high-five, too proud of themselves before Taehyung pushes him onto the tiled area, grabbing the towel you kick toward him.

“Junho, here, change and go outside before the clown show starts.” You wring out your hair, shivering slightly, “I need to change.”

Taehyung presses his although wet, warm chest into your back, fingers grasping your elbows, “let’s go change into dry clothes. I’ll help you.”

Junho rubs the towel into his hair, sprinting around the corner before stopping to step into his sandals. Once he’s out of sight, Taehyung fits a hand under your legs, lifting you off the ground bridal style.

Your hands wrap around his neck like second nature, inhaling his thick, heady scent, amplified after his swim. His wet hair hangs over his eyes. Your core clenches with need.

“Where to?”

“Junho’s room, upstairs.”

He nips at your earlobe, kicking the door open before dropping you onto the bed. Just as he is about to close the door, Bam squeezes in. You collapse in a fit of giggles, holding your stomach.

“Go,” Taehyung orders, pointing to the door.

Bam sits at the foot of the bed, unfazed by the tantrum Taehyung is throwing.

“Come on,” he claps, “GO!”

“Bam,” you chortle, “go on. Go find Junho.”

Taehyung sighs, having given up when he crawls between your legs, covering your mouth with his. Your fingers curl around his biceps, pushing him away slightly.

“I can’t.” You laugh, pointing at Bam who’s watching Taehyung place kisses down the column of your throat, suckling on the skin there to have you squirming. “Bam, go. Go on! Wait Tae.”

After successfully getting rid of Bam, you sit at the edge of the bed, peeling your wet clothing off your body. Taehyung palms himself through his shorts, rising from the mattress which forces you to step down, knowing what he wants by the gleam in his eyes alone.

He cups your chin, cooing at your obsequious manner of pulling out his half-hard cock from his wet shorts, stroking it till he’s fully hard and leaking all over your fist.

“That’s it,” he grits, “just like that.”

You roll your palm around his shaft, shifting uncomfortably with the throb in your core. He grips your hair in his hands, forcing you to halt all movements before he presses the weeping tip to your lips, hissing when your tongue flicks out in a kittenish lick.

“Don’t tease—fuck.” You watch the way he throws his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing under his tanned skin before his head lolls forward, fingers twisting in your hair.

“So good, shit, so pretty with your mouth wrapped around my cock.”

You moan around his length, tongue dragging up the underside before you suckle around the tip, hearing him curse. Your scalp prickles with how hard he tugs at your hair, positioning you the way he likes.

Relaxing your throat, your hands fall to your thighs as you prepare yourself for the ruthless snaps of his hips, tears prickling your eyes when the tip of his cock fits down your throat, nose pressing into his pubic bone.

“Look at you, letting me use your throat like this when anyone could walk in and see what a slut you are.”

You hum, hollowing out your cheeks as he fucks your throat raw, jaw going tired, slick pooling in your underwear. The thick veins running across his shaft twitch in your mouth, sweat beading across his chest and forehead when you swallow around him twice, patting his thigh for a breath of air.

He pulls you off his length, chuckling when your thighs slip wider and your heat makes contact with his foot.

“Taehyung,” you sigh, moaning when he flexes his foot against your clothed, puffy clit. Even if the friction is not enough, you rock your hips like it’ll give you what you need, heat unfurling in your abdomen.

“What?” He grunts, lifting your head with his hold on your hair, “can’t take my cock today? Open up.”

Drawing in a deep breath, you take him into the warm confines of your mouth, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down your chin and chest as you continue to grind on his foot, moans muffled by his cock that presses into your cheeks.

His taste bursts onto your tongue, blunt nails pressing into your thighs just as your pierces the backs of his thighs, chasing your orgasm, eyes wide open to watch the way his stomach trembles, lip caught between his teeth.

“Fuck, gonna—fuck so damn pretty. Taking my cock like a good girl. Keep doing that baby. Keep your tongue out. Fuuuuck.”

The next few seconds are painful for your jaw, tears ruining your mascara when he flexes his hips at an inhumane speed, cock lodged into your throat before he shoots his load into your mouth. Shuddering out your name as you suck and slurp, moaning with him.

You gulp down every last drop, hips lowering to get more out of the little relief his foot provides.

“Fuck, let’s see.”

He pats your chin with his thumb, prying your mouth open. You stick out your tongue, showing him that you swallowed it all. He pulls you to your feet, attacking your mouth with his hands travelling under your dress, a sound of disapproval rumbling from his chest when he finds that you’re wearing tights underneath.

You suckle on his tongue, mewling when he spanks your ass, long fingers spreading your cheeks apart.

“We should get back.”

“What?”

He grins, lips skimming down your cheek, “we’ll finish up here later. Plus, do you remember what you did yesterday? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

Of course, you still need to get used to what he likes, and what he doesn’t, because apparently, sending him sexy pictures when you miss him isn’t what he wants. And it only ends poorly for you.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he smiles, thumb smoothing over your cheek, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

It seems like everything you heard today was against your will. But that doesn’t stop you from waiting behind the door to hear what Jungkook and Sora are arguing about this time – even if you don’t care.

“I’d like to see how you handle things without me. I’m leaving.”

“Wait.”

“I’m tired of you wasting money on all this bullshit, money that we both earned.”

“Sora—”

She storms out, making a show of carting her luggage with Hwang following close behind, struggling to keep up with her.

Jungkook rubs his temple, patting Bam’s back before spinning around. It’s too late for you to hide because he spots you, features morphing into indifference.

“Uh…trouble in paradise.” It’s supposed to be a question, a dumb one, but it comes out as more of a statement.

His eyes drop to his phone screen, voice lowering to a whisper yet you still hear him as you brave a few steps closer.

“Hardly a paradise…you changed your outfit?”

“Yeah, it got wet…when I was at the pool…with water.”

“With water or,” he raises his head, eyebrow piercing glinting with the movement, “something else?”

“What?”

He swivels in the direction of the door, calling for Bam to follow him, “let’s cut the cake.”

Once you step outside, thankful that you had decided to wear your coat when the chilly breeze that kisses your neck, Taehyung drags you to the other side of the yard where his brother stands, monitoring the kids in the bounce house.

“Hi,” you greet, waving at the kids who are having a blast leaping around in the colorful space, “thank you so much for this, Seokjin.”

He smiles, leaning against the inflatable, “not a problem.”

Taehyung redirects your attention to the man standing nearby, a man you don’t recognize until he’s only a foot away. Your jaw goes tight, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“This is my friend I was talking about, Park Jimin.”

He bows, thrusting a box wrapped poorly in red paper, “nice to meet you. I brought this gift for your son, although I’m not too sure if he likes walkie talkies.”

You can’t move an inch, flashbacks from one of the most terrifying nights of your life resurface the longer you stare at him.

“You…We met before,” you bark, turning to Taehyung as you will the tears sitting on your lash line not to fall, “this is your friend?”

His smile sinks into a frown, reaching forward to grip your arm but you pull away, passing the blond man, who has been haunting you every night after you thought you were going to die at his hands, one last look.

Taehyung calls your name, cornering you behind the swing set, “let me explain.”

“Explain what? That guy—he’s the one from that night. Do you know that?”

He purses his lips, dipping his head to peer into your eyes but you keep your gaze on the ground, not ready to hear his answer.

“I know that but he—”

“You know? How could he be your friend? He’s the guy that’s been stalking me for months. Or longer, I don’t know! And he’s your friend? How could—” realization hits you like a ton of bricks, chest tightening “—unless you knew all along.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, shaking his head furiously, “no, no it’s not like that.”

“For weeks I was afraid to even step out of my home because of him and now he’s here at my son’s party as your friend? The guy I’m dating?!”

His palms curl around your shoulders but you shrug him off, ignoring the pang in your chest.

“Can you just listen to me? Park Jimin is not who you think he is. I tracked him down after that night and he agreed to helping me out.”

“Help you out with what?”

He takes a step back, eyes bouncing over your face before he looks away, “I can’t tell you just yet.”

Your throat works wildly, arms rigid at your sides, “Taehyung—”

“Can you just trust me?”

“I don’t know. You thought to bring him here to my son’s birthday party?” You grit, covering your hands with your sleeves, “I need some time to think.”

Taehyung nods, “okay, I understand.”

“Tell him to leave, right now.”

With a small nod, he returns to Seokjin and the blond guy, Park Jimin, broad shoulders slumped. The cogs in your brain are jammed, nudging into each other as they spark and hiss. You hug your arms, biting the corner of your mouth to prevent yourself from bawling your eyes out for everyone to witness.

“Trouble in paradise?”

You twist around with a gasp, hand brushing Jungkook’s tie that folds over his shoulder.

He laughs, proffering the bowl of caramel popcorn. On a regular day, you would inhale the treats in under five minutes, but today is not a regular day, and the sight along with the smell makes your stomach curl in on itself.

“It’s time for the gifts then we cut the cake,” he reminds, dusting his hands as he strolls away to where Junho is seated at the large table stocked with gifts.

The first gift he opens is from Seokjin – a toy rifle. You nearly throw up in your mouth.

It’s been nearly an hour since Junho started opening gifts, and they don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. Some guests had even left during it all. But alas, the fun must come to an end and the last gift Junho needs to open is from Taehyung. A box that could fit both you and Junho sat on a trolley.

You chew on your bottom lip, watching Junho tug at the string, each side of the box falls open to reveal a mini BMW i8 – one that looks exactly like his.

The air is filled with oohs and aahs, Junho’s shrieks of happiness adding to their delight as he hops into Taehyung’s lap, surprising you when he kisses his cheek.

“Thank you so much! I love it! Can I sit in it? I wanted it so bad! Thank you!”

“Of cour—”

“Junho,” Jungkook calls from his place next to you, “why don’t you try it out later? There’s still my gift.”

Taehyung rises to his full height, a look of guilt meeting your own before he returns to his seat behind you. You look away, ignoring the dull ache in your chest.

“Okay everyone,” Jungkook shouts, making a show of propping his foot on the chair, “follow me to the front yard!”

The noise starts once again, moving in a disorderly fashion. Yuri links her arm with yours, nudging your shoulder with her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…I’ll tell you later.”

Her words are cut off by a whipping sound a few streets away, getting louder and louder until a shiny, yellow car rolls into the driveway, illuminated by the golden hour. A bright red bow sits on the hood. It’s gorgeous.

“OH MY—DAD! IT’S A LAMBORGHINI URUS.”

“And it’s all yours!”

Your jaw drops, shaking your head in disbelief before you make your way to Jungkook, catching his sleeve between your nails.

“Jungkook, this isn’t an appropriate gift for a child.”

“I know,” he admits, greeting the man that steps out of the car, sunglasses fitted into his dark hair. You watch as the man hands the key to Jungkook, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

Too focused on what he’s saying, you don’t notice that your son is missing until he calls from inside the car, pressing on the horn.

“Junho!”

You dash toward him, words dying on your tongue once you take in the interior of the car.

“Isn’t it cool? It’s all mine!”

“Junho,” you scold, taking both his hands in yours, “you can’t drive.”

“That’s why—” Jungkook pats your shoulder, reaching for your hand before holding it palm up “—it’s yours.”

Your eyes bug out of your head, “mine?!”

Junho fiddles with the buttons in the car, voice louder than you’ve ever heard before, “YESSS.”

Jungkook leans forward to whisper in your ear, breath wafting over your face, “sexy car for a sexy mom.”

You’re at a loss for words, cheeks warming at his words. Did you hear right? He’s messing with you.

What the fuck?

You stare at the heavy car key in your hand, having forgotten that you’re surrounded by a crowd of people only when they burst into cheers around you. The kids approach the car like ants, Yoongi pats Jungkook on his back, wearing a proud, shy smile.

“Your dad is so cool!”

“Is it your car?”

“Can we go for a ride?”

Baffled, your eyes remain on your palm till you return to the pool area, finding Taehyung’s hollow smile, stare fixed on Jungkook.

“Congratulations.”

The rest of the evening is a drag, unable to finish your beer that has gone warm in your hands. Hoseok left, along with the rest of the guests, so it’s just you, Yuri, Yoongi, Jungkook and Taehyung who sit on the patio. Junho doesn’t count because he had passed out on Jungkook’s lap a while ago. The affable conversation taking place in front of you leaves you astonished, but you shouldn’t have jinxed it.

“I have connections all over Japan, Jeon, what are you trying to prove?”

You’ve tried to keep your distance from Taehyung, but somehow you find yourself curling into his side. Must be the weather.

“What are you trying to prove? My new warehouse will be up and running before June this year.”

You perk up at that, glancing at Yoongi, “new warehouse? Yoongi, did you know about this?”

He shakes his head, lips jutting out.

Jungkook scoffs, head tilted loftily, “why don’t we all go down to visit? And I’ll show you what I’m talking about.”

Yuri groans, nuzzling into Yoongi’s neck, “all this business talk is making my head spin. It’s the weekend! Can I catch a break?”

Yoongi hums, “I think we’re gonna head home.”

“No,” Jungkook objects, rising from the bench with Junho still latched around his shoulders, “just come with me to the warehouse. Ten minutes max.”

It doesn’t take much persuasion, much to Yuri’s dismay. She falls into your arms, giving you a weak farewell hug.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Yoongi holds up a finger, “tomorrow, 8AM.”

You whine, “really? 9AM please.”

“No.”

“Argh.”

Side-stepping around the pit, you take a sleeping Junho from Jungkook’s hands, giggling when he breathes out a few drowsy words.

“He’s knocked out.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook snorts, securing his arms over your shoulders, “he was too excited to sleep last night.”

“I’ll uh—”

Jungkook adjusts the cap on his head, clearing the bench of sweet wrappings, “yeah, tomorrow. Kim Taehyung you’re coming to the warehouse now, right? I’ll give Yoongi the directions and you can follow him.”

“Alright.”

Taehyung helps you to the car, your old car, ensuring that Junho is buckled up. You’re ready to take off when he knocks on your window, bending down to mumble a short greeting.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You sigh, “of course, we have a lot to discuss.”

He nods, hitting the window frame with the heel of his palm before stepping away. You know he won’t question it.

As you’re settling into the tub, you can feel the tension in your shoulders ebb away with each passing moment, warm water swirling around your toes, attempting to clear your head. But even the sensuous aroma of lavender can’t fill the holes in your thoughts, and you find yourself refilling the tub each time the water turns cold. Till you can’t anymore. You don’t know how long you spent in the bath. But the number of missed calls you have gives you an idea.

Twenty-six missed calls from Yuri.

You fit on your favorite pajamas, the supple material adds to your relaxation time as you flop down on the couch and give her a ring. But she doesn’t answer. You try again and again. Each time it goes straight to voicemail.

That’s odd.

Usually, she would pick up straight away.

Three knocks on your door catches your attention, phone kept against your ear as you press down the handle.

“Jungkook? What are y—”

Your eyes widen with horror, the red stain on the front of his baby blue shirt causing the phone to slip from your hands.

“Wh—”

He pushes you back inside, shutting the door behind him, eyes brimming with tears, “it’s not mine.”

“What then—”

“Yoongi.”

Blood drains from your face, fingers going cold before your vision becomes blurry, “Yoongi? W-What do you mean? Is he okay? Yuri she she—”

“Calm down,” he tries, but his brittle voice only adds to your panic. “Yoongi is in the ER now. He’ll be fine.”

“Jungkook,” you cry, pointing to the bloody stain marring his clothing, “is he—what happened?”

“He…was shot.”

Tears drip down your chin, knees giving out before Jungkook catches you in his arms, setting your trembling figure on the couch.

“H-How? Why? Is he okay?”

You ball the front of his shirt in your fists, “what did you do?!”

He glances down the hallway, easing his shirt out of your hands, “calm down. Relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax! What did you do to him? Get away from me!”

“It wasn’t me,” he shouts, holding up his arms placatingly, “I swear! ___ relax, breathe. Do you want some water? He’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want water—” you stutter, lungs tightening as you clutch your chest, finding it difficult to steady your breaths.

“Hey, hey,” he coddles your frail body into your arms, chin propped on the crown of your head, “it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Your eyes slip shut, nails pressing into his shoulder as you try to regain control of your breathing – only one face bringing you peace. One voice.

“Hush, I’m right here. You’re a strong gir—…woman. Aren’t you?”

You exhale a deep, stuttered breath, finding comfort in the way he’s rocking you back and forth. Once you find your voice, a fresh wave of tears wet your cheeks, voice cracked.

“What happened? Is he gonna be okay?”

Jungkook nods, palm cradling the back of your head, “yeah.”

“How did it happen, Jungkook? Last I remember…he was at your warehouse.”

He keeps his gaze on your lap, nose crinkling.

“You’d have to ask Kim Taehyung.”