Big Boss Dee

The Seoul sky had been overcast since morning, as if it shared the weight pressing down on Min Yoongi’s mood—heavy even before he opened his eyes. His apartment was tidy, too tidy for someone who was falling apart inside. The curtains were half-closed, gray light slipping in uninvited, and he sat silently on the sofa with a hoodie covering part of his face, staring blankly at the floor as if searching for something he didn’t even know himself.

Since that incident, everything felt different. Not just the news, not just the way people looked at him, but the way he saw himself. Quietly, that was what hurt the most.

His mother couldn’t stand seeing him like that.

And that’s where you came in.

On the first day you arrived, you didn’t bring much. Just a simple bag, a folded apron, and a list of ingredients you had prepared from home. You didn’t knock too loudly, just enough to let him know you were there. A few seconds of silence passed, then the door opened.

Yoongi stood there, his face blank, his eyes tired.

“What is this now?” His voice was cold, no small talk.

“You can call me Y/N,” you replied calmly. “Your mother asked me to help out around the house.”

His brows immediately furrowed. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You’re not a baby either,” you answered without emotion, taking off your shoes and stepping inside as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I’m being paid to work. So I’ll keep working.”

He let out a rough sigh, clearly annoyed. “My parents are really too much.”

“You can complain to them later,” you said shortly as you walked to the kitchen. “Right now I’m going to start cooking.”

The way you spoke wasn’t challenging, but it wasn’t submissive either. Neutral. Professional. That was exactly what made Yoongi even more uncomfortable.

The first day passed in a strange silence. You cooked without much noise, just the soft clinking of kitchen tools and the warm aroma of food slowly filling the room. You didn’t force him to eat, only placed the food on the table and said, “If you’re hungry, it’s there.”

He didn’t touch it until night.

On the second day, you came again. On time. As if nothing had happened yesterday. You started by cleaning the kitchen area, tidying a few small things that were slightly out of place—not because they were dirty, but because they were unattended. Yoongi watched from a distance, sitting on the same sofa, in almost the same position.

“You’re paid to clean too?” he finally said.

“Sometimes,” you replied. “If it’s needed.”

“It’s not needed here.”

“But I see things that can be tidied up,” you continued, neatly folding a kitchen cloth. “And I’m paid to help.”

He clicked his tongue softly. “Annoying.”

“You too,” you replied lightly.

There was a pause after that. Not an empty silence, but one filled with something unspoken.

The following days moved in the same pattern. You came on weekdays, worked without much talking, cooked simple warm meals that felt like home, and occasionally tidied small things that others might not even notice. You never asked about the incident. Never touched on the clearly sensitive topic. And that was exactly what made Yoongi even more restless.

One afternoon, as the rain poured heavily, you were still in the kitchen when suddenly the sound of breaking glass came from the living room.

You didn’t panic. You simply walked toward the sound and saw Yoongi standing there, his breathing heavy, shards of glass on the floor, and an expression that… finally showed something other than blankness.

Anger. But not at anyone else. At himself.

“Why…” his voice was low, hoarse. “Why could I be that stupid…”

You didn’t answer immediately. You just grabbed a broom and began cleaning the broken glass slowly, carefully.

“If you want to be angry, just be angry,” you said finally. “But don’t hurt yourself.”

He let out a short, bitter laugh. “Too late.”

You paused for a moment, then looked at him. “Not yet.”

He lifted his head, looking at you for the first time longer than usual. “You don’t know anything.”

“True,” you nodded. “And I don’t need to know everything to see that you’re falling apart.”

The sentence wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to silence him.

The rain still fell outside, its sound filling the room. For a few seconds, no one spoke. Just two people in the same space, both not okay, but in different ways.

“I’m just working here,” you continued softly. “Cooking, tidying up, making sure you eat. That’s all.”

“Why don’t you ask?” he suddenly asked.

“Do you want me to?”

He fell silent. And that was already enough of an answer.

You went back to cleaning the broken glass, then stood up, threw it away, and returned to the kitchen as if the conversation was over. But something had changed.

That day, for the first time, Yoongi ate before you left.

Not much. But enough. And somehow, it felt like the beginning of something bigger than just a job.

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The house was too big for someone who chose silence.

The luxury villa in the UN Village area stood calm, neat, almost without sound. Every corner was perfect, clean, organized—as if there was no space for chaos. But you knew, it was exactly in places like that where chaos hid the deepest.

And Min Yoongi was proof of that.

You had worked for several well-known people before. Actors, CEOs, socialites—people whose lives always looked “perfect” from the outside. So when you first stepped into this house, you didn’t feel overly impressed. Nor awkward. Everything felt… familiar.

A fan? Of course. Who isn’t a fan of BTS? But you also knew your boundaries. Especially since your bias wasn’t him. Secretly, you had always paid more attention to Jeon Jungkook.

So when you stood in Yoongi’s kitchen, wearing an apron and chopping ingredients with a steady rhythm, you truly saw him as… just a normal human. A client. Someone who simply happened to need help.

Unfortunately, he didn’t see you as anything.

The following days grew heavier—not because your job was difficult, but because your presence felt like it was never acknowledged.

You still came every weekday. On time. Bringing fresh ingredients, cooking seriously, paying attention to details like temperature, taste, texture—every small thing that made food feel like “home.” You even started adjusting the menu based on what you saw him eat a little of the day before, hoping… maybe today he would eat more. But more often than not, that hope ended cold.

One afternoon, you finished cooking a warm soup and a few simple side dishes. You arranged them neatly on the dining table, making sure everything looked appetizing. The aroma filled the room, soft and comforting.

Yoongi walked past behind you. Without stopping. Without looking. A few minutes later, you heard the front door open. Then a notification from the phone on the table. Delivery.

You stood still in the kitchen, your hand still holding the wooden spoon. You said nothing. You showed nothing. You just… went back to stirring the soup that wouldn’t even be touched.

Sad? Of course. Tired? Yes. But you were paid. And you were professional. So you kept working.

Another day, you tried a slightly different recipe. Lighter, more suited for someone who might not have an appetite. You even noted the times he usually came out of his room, trying to match the timing so the food would always be at its best when he passed by.

The result was the same. Untouched. Sometimes not even glanced at. Yoongi stayed the same. Cold. Distant. As if you were just part of the furniture in that house—there, but unimportant.

If you spoke, he answered only as necessary. If it wasn’t important, he didn’t respond at all.

“Do you want to eat now or later?” you once asked.

“Up to you.”

And that was it. No thank you. No refusal. Not anything. Empty. The only being in that house who truly “acknowledged” your presence… wasn’t him. But his cat. Tang-ie.

The small cat initially only watched you from afar, sitting in the corner with sharp eyes, as if judging. You didn’t approach immediately. You knew animals like that needed time.

On the second day, he started getting closer.

On the third day, he sat near your feet while you cooked.

On the fourth day, he actually played with you.

You laughed softly when Tang-ie chased the end of your apron, or when he suddenly jumped onto the kitchen table (which you gently lowered him from right away). Even though you actually preferred dogs, you couldn’t deny that the cat was… cute. And warm. Unlike his owner.

One afternoon, Yoongi saw it. He stood at the doorway of the kitchen, watching Tang-ie roll on the floor near your feet, playing with your fingers without fear. Strange. Usually Tang-ie was selective with people. Not everyone could get close, let alone play like that.

“What are you doing with him?” he suddenly asked.

You glanced briefly. “Just playing.”

Tang-ie let out a small meow, as if confirming.

Yoongi frowned. “He’s usually not like that.”

“Maybe he’s in a good mood,” you replied lightly.

Or maybe… he’s just comfortable. But you didn’t say that. Yoongi stared for a few seconds longer, then left again. As usual. Without further comment. And you were alone again.

That night, like the nights before, the food you cooked grew cold on the table. You stood in front of the sink, washing dishes that weren’t really used. The water flowed softly, a small sound filling the silence.

In another room, you could hear the plastic sound of a delivery bag being opened. You paused for a moment. Just a moment. Then continued. Because you knew, if you paused too long, you might start feeling too much. And you didn’t have time for that.

On the fifth day, your body began to feel tired. Not from physical work—but from the feelings you kept suppressing. You still came, still cooked, still tidied parts of the house untouched by other staff because they were too “personal.” Yoongi’s workspace. His music room.

You never touched important things. Just small adjustments—slightly messy cables, papers about to fall, things that might not seem important but you still did them. Without being asked. Without being acknowledged.

One afternoon, you were sitting on the living room floor, playing with Tang-ie who seemed very active that day. You laughed softly as he tried to bite the edge of your sleeve.

Then footsteps. Yoongi. He walked past just like that. Without looking at you. Without looking at Tang-ie. Without looking at anything. As if you truly weren’t there. And for the first time since you started working in that house, you felt something beyond just tiredness. Empty. Like… all your efforts never really reached anyone.

You lowered your gaze, still stroking Tang-ie who had now calmed in your lap.

“At least you eat, okay,” you whispered softly.

Tang-ie let out a small meow. And in that huge house, with all its luxury and perfection, that was the only answer you got.

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That day should have been the same as the previous days. You came in the morning, brought fresh ingredients, greeted softly even though you already knew there would be no reply, then went straight to the kitchen. A routine that had started to feel like autopilot—chopping, sautéing, tasting, arranging plating neatly, making sure everything was warm at the right time. But somehow, that day felt heavier.

Maybe because you were starting to realize… this wasn’t just an unappreciated job. It was like talking to a wall that didn’t even want to acknowledge your existence.

When you finished cooking, you didn’t immediately return to the kitchen as usual. You stood there. Waiting.

A few minutes later, Min Yoongi came down from upstairs. His steps were relaxed, his expression the same—flat, empty, as if the world around him never really entered.

This time, you didn’t move.

“Do you want to eat now?” you asked.

He glanced briefly. “Later.”

You took a slow breath.

“Yoongi.”

He stopped. Not out of interest. More like… irritation. “What now?”

There was a pause. Short. But enough to make your chest feel tighter.

“Can I ask something?”

He didn’t answer. But he didn’t leave either. You took that as permission.

“I cook every day,” you began, your voice still soft, still controlled. “You see me buy the ingredients, I cook here, in your kitchen. But… you almost never eat it.”

He stayed silent.

“Do you just not like my cooking,” you continued, still trying to stay neutral, “or… is there another reason?”

Silence. Then he laughed lightly. Short. Cold.

“A reason?” he repeated.

You waited. And you hoped—just a little—that the answer wouldn’t hurt. But that hope was too naive.

“I just don’t want to eat food from someone I don’t know,” he said casually. “Who knows, maybe you’ll poison me.”

The words fell just like that. Without weight. Without hesitation. And for a few seconds, you truly couldn’t respond. Not because you had no answer. But because you didn’t expect… he would go that far.

You swallowed slowly, trying to keep your expression the same as usual.

“I buy the ingredients myself,” you finally said. “You also see me cook here. Right in front of you. And you still think I’d poison you?”

Your tone was still gentle. Still patient. Even inside, something was starting to crack.

He shrugged. “People can pretend.”

You looked at him. For the first time, not as a client. But as someone who… truly hurt you.

“I work here because your mother asked,” you continued softly. “She’s the one paying me. She just wants you to eat properly.”

“That’s her problem,” he replied quickly. “Not mine.”

His words were sharp. Fast. As if he wanted to cut off any chance of this conversation going further.

But you were still standing there. Still trying.

“I’ve never crossed any boundaries,” you said. “I don’t ask about your personal life. I don’t bother you. I just do my job.”

He looked at you, sharper now. “Then just do it. Without talking too much.”

Something in your chest finally dropped. Not anger. Not even an explosive disappointment. More like… something quietly running out.

You nodded slightly. “Okay,” you replied.

Simple. Short. Just how he wanted.

Yoongi turned and left, leaving you alone in the dining room still filled with the aroma of food slowly cooling down.

You stood there for a few seconds longer. Then you moved. You took the bowls, covered the food one by one, and stored them neatly as usual. Your hands stayed steady. Your movements remained orderly. Nothing changed on the outside.

Except… this time you didn’t taste the leftover food like you usually did. You had no appetite.

In the kitchen, the water flowed again from the tap. You washed the utensils with the same rhythm, but your mind was far noisier than usual. You knew. You truly knew.

As someone who used to be a fan, you knew how the world treated him after that incident. You knew the comments, the stares, how one mistake could erase all the good things he had ever done.

You knew why he became like this. Suspicious. Closed off. Pushing everyone away. You knew. That’s why you endured. That’s why you stayed patient. That’s why you never snapped back, never showed that you were hurt. Because you understood. But understanding… didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

That day, you went home a little later than usual. Not because there was extra work. But because you needed time to make sure… you could still come back tomorrow with the same face. The same attitude. Professional. Neutral. As if his words today… left nothing behind.

When in reality, since that day, every time you cooked in that large house in UN Village, there was one small thought that kept appearing without stopping—

If even after everything you’ve done, he still thinks you could poison him… maybe, in his eyes, you were never really seen at all.

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The second week felt longer than it should have.

Not because your workload increased, but because of Min Yoongi’s attitude… didn’t change at all. If the first week still left room for hope—no matter how small—the second week felt like proof that everything you did… truly wouldn’t change anything.

The house in UN Village stayed the same—calm, spacious, beautiful. But the atmosphere felt even colder. And you… kept coming. As usual.

Every morning, you opened the door carefully, took off your shoes, and went straight to the kitchen without waiting for a greeting. You no longer expected to hear “you’re here?” or even a small nod. None of that had ever existed from the start.

All there was… was the sound of your own footsteps. And sometimes… the small sound of Tang-ie running to greet you.

“Morning,” you whispered softly as you crouched down, stroking his soft fur.

Tang-ie meowed softly, immediately rubbing against your hand as if you were the only warm thing in that house. You smiled faintly.

“Only you greet me, huh.”

That day you cooked something even lighter. You even started taking notes on your phone—what food was completely untouched, which one was slightly eaten, which might still have a chance.

Like a quiet experiment. Even though you knew… the result would most likely be the same.

And it was.

That afternoon, Yoongi came down, glanced briefly at the dining table—then walked straight to another room. A few minutes later, the delivery notification sounded again.

You didn’t stop anymore. You didn’t turn around anymore. You just… continued your work. As if it was nothing. Even though inside, it felt like being hit repeatedly in the same place.

Another day, you were sweeping the living room when Yoongi suddenly spoke. “You’re still here?”

His tone wasn’t asking. More like… questioning your presence.

You paused for a moment, then looked at him. “Yes.”

He looked at you for a few seconds, then gave a slight smile—not a warm one. More like… testing. “You’re quite persistent.”

The sentence sounded light. But it wasn’t.

You didn’t answer immediately. You just lowered your gaze back to the floor, continuing to sweep slowly.

“This is my job,” you finally said.

“Not many would last,” he continued, still standing in the same spot. “Aren’t you tired?”

You stopped again. This time, you took a slow breath before answering.

“I am,” you admitted. “But I keep working.”

There was a pause. And for a moment, you thought… maybe he would stop there. But no.

“Or are you hoping I’ll change?” his voice was slightly lower now. “Is that why you stay?”

You looked at him again. And this time… there was something in your eyes you couldn’t fully hide.

“I don’t have the right to hope that far,” you answered softly.

It was honest. Very honest. And maybe that was what made him fall silent for a moment. But only for a moment. He clicked his tongue softly, then left again. As usual. Leaving you with words that still hung in the air.

That night, you sat on the kitchen floor, your back against the cabinet, Tang-ie curled near your feet. You weren’t usually like this—sitting too long doing nothing. But that day… you needed to stop.

“Is he always like this?” you whispered softly.

Tang-ie only blinked slowly. You smiled faintly, but your eyes didn’t really follow.

“I know why he’s like this,” you continued, your voice almost like you were talking to yourself. “I saw everything.”

You didn’t need to say what. Everyone knew. How the media attacked him. How people’s comments turned sharp. How one mistake became a reason to erase everything he had ever achieved.

As a BTS fan, you saw all of that. You read it. You stayed silent. And you felt hurt… even though it wasn’t happening to you.

“That’s why I try to understand him,” you whispered again. “That’s why I never get angry.”

Tang-ie shifted slightly, moving closer. You stroked him gently.

“But understanding… doesn’t mean I’m not tired, right?”

Your voice grew smaller. Almost gone.

Upstairs, you could hear Yoongi’s footsteps. Heavy. Slow. Like someone who didn’t really want to move but also couldn’t stay still. He never greeted you. Never asked. Never tried. And what hurt more—he never stopped hurting you, even in small ways.

The next day, you came back again. As if nothing had happened. You cooked. You tidied. You played briefly with Tang-ie. And you still spoke in the same tone—calm, professional, never crossing boundaries.

Meanwhile, Yoongi… still saw you as a disturbance. As someone who shouldn’t exist in his life. As if… you were never really human in his eyes.

And somehow, you didn’t know how long you could keep going like this—being the only one trying to understand, in a place where you were never truly seen at all.

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The news came without you knowing.

You continued your days as usual—coming in the morning, cooking, tidying the kitchen, occasionally sitting on the floor for a moment while playing with Tang-ie. Nothing changed in the way you worked, even though inside, you had long felt… empty.

Until one afternoon, the atmosphere in the house shifted. The sound of a phone call came from the study. Not too loud, but enough to make you realize—it wasn’t an ordinary conversation.

And your name was mentioned. You didn’t hear everything. But you knew. Min Yoongi’s mother had finally found out. That the food you cooked… was almost never touched.

That night, Yoongi came down with a different expression. Not better. Sharper. Colder.

“Did you tell my mother?” he asked directly, without introduction.

You frowned slightly. “No.”

He stared at you for a long time, as if trying to read whether you were lying.

“I never contacted her except for work matters,” you continued calmly. “I have no reason to tell her anything.”

He let out a rough breath, clearly holding something back. And you knew… he couldn’t direct it at the person he should. So as usual—you became the target.

The days after that changed. Not for the better. Just… different. Yoongi stopped ordering delivery. Not because he wanted to. Because he had to. And for the first time, he actually sat at the dining table when you served the food.

You stood not far away, as usual, not forcing, not waiting. Just making sure everything was ready. He took a spoonful. Tried it. Then stopped.

“Too salty.”

You nodded slightly. “I’ll fix it tomorrow.”

The next day—

“Not enough flavor.”

“Yes.”

The day after—

“Too soft.”

“Yes, I’ll pay more attention.”

There was always something wrong. Always. And you never argued. Not because you couldn’t. But because you chose… not to.

You knew this wasn’t about the food. This was about something bigger than that. About wounds he never processed. About anger that had nowhere to go. And you… just happened to be there. So you absorbed it all. Every day. Without protest. Without retaliation.

With only one same answer— “Yes.”

And maybe that was what made him keep doing it. Because you never fought back. Because you always stayed in your place. Because you didn’t leave.

The house in UN Village still looked perfect from the outside. An elite area, calm, filled with luxurious homes belonging to influential people. Here, everything looked like a life without problems.

But inside… nothing was truly okay.

One afternoon, you stepped out briefly to buy additional ingredients. The weather was quite bright, the streets in the complex were quiet, only a few cars passing occasionally.

You walked slowly, carrying several shopping bags. Until suddenly—

THUD.

A small bicycle hit you from the side.

Your body lost balance slightly, the shopping bags almost fell, and the child riding the bicycle wobbled too.

“Don’t you watch where you’re going?” a woman’s voice immediately sounded.

You turned. A neatly dressed woman stood not far from the child.

“I’m sorry, I—” you began.

“Do you even know what kind of area this is?” she cut in quickly. “Don’t just walk carelessly carrying that many things.”

You stayed silent. You were the one who got hit. But you were the one being scolded. The child wasn’t even scolded.

“You work here, right?” she continued, her tone demeaning. “Then be careful. Don’t cause trouble.”

You lowered your head slightly. “Yes, sorry.” Even though it wasn’t your fault.

But you were too tired to drag it out.

You continued walking. With heavier steps. With your chest feeling… tight. When you arrived home, you went straight to the kitchen. As usual. As if nothing had happened.

You washed the ingredients, chopped, cooked—all with the same movements. Neat. Organized. Professional.

But that day, your mind couldn’t fully focus. Those words still echoed. That tone. The way she looked at you. As if… you were beneath. As if… you had no value. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself.

“You can do this,” you whispered softly. “Just normal.”

Tang-ie came, sitting near your feet. You stroked him gently.

“Just a bad day.”

But it wasn’t over. During dinner, Yoongi sat as usual. You served the food. He took a bite. Then put the spoon down.

“This time it’s bland.”

You stayed silent for a moment.

“Yes, maybe I—”

“You cook every day, but it never tastes right,” he cut in.

His tone wasn’t loud. But sharp enough. Sharp enough to… pierce. And somehow—that day you weren’t as strong as usual. Maybe because of what happened earlier. Maybe because you had held it in for too long. Maybe because everything… piled up.

“Can’t you even cook?” he continued.

That sentence—something that might have felt ordinary on another day—felt different that day. Too heavy. You lowered your head. Trying to answer as usual.

“Yes, I will—”

But your voice stopped. Your breath caught. And before you could hold it in—your tears fell. One. Then another. You immediately turned away, trying to hide it, but it was too late. The room was too quiet not to notice.

“I… I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice trembling but still restrained from breaking. “Maybe I wasn’t focused today.”

Yoongi didn’t answer immediately. And you didn’t dare look at him.

“I’d like to leave early today,” you continued, still forcing your voice to stay steady. “I’ll fix it tomorrow.”

You bowed slightly. Formal. Like clients and workers. As it should be. Even though your heart… was no longer whole like when you first came.

You took off your apron, placed it neatly, and took your bag. Tang-ie meowed softly as you passed. You stopped for a moment, stroking his head.

“See you tomorrow,” you whispered.

Then you left. Leaving that big house—which for the first time, felt truly… too cold for you to return to.

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The next day, you still came. As if nothing had happened.

Your face was calm, your steps steady, and your routine continued the same—opening the door, going straight to the kitchen, preparing ingredients, cooking with a rhythm you had memorized too well. As if yesterday’s tears were just… a small part that didn’t need to be carried into today. And maybe that was how you survived.

Tang-ie greeted you as usual, meowing softly near your feet. You gave a faint smile, stroking him briefly before starting to work.

“Today has to be better,” you whispered softly.

But the world doesn’t always give space for that. When you stepped out briefly to buy additional ingredients, you saw them again. The mother and child from yesterday. And this time… not alone.

Several other women stood nearby—well-dressed, the same aura, the same way of standing. You didn’t need to ask to know… they were from the same circle. Women in elite complexes like UN Village, used to living above, and seeing others… from below.

You tried to pass by as usual. Not looking. Not seeking trouble. But their voices… were too clear to ignore.

“That’s the one from yesterday, right?”

“Yes, the one working in that house…”

“Why is she always going in and out?”

Your steps slowed slightly.

“What does she even do?”

“Not a maid… but not family either…”

There was a small laugh. Then one sentence that made your steps truly stop, even if just for a fraction of a second—

“Could she be… a paid girl?”

The world felt… silent. Not because they stopped talking. But because your ears seemed to refuse to hear any further. You took a breath. Deep. Slow. Then you kept walking. Without turning. Without responding. Because this wasn’t just about you. This was about Min Yoongi too.

One small rumor could spread. And you knew… he had been hurt enough without something like this added.

So you stayed silent.

That day, you worked as usual. Cooking. Tidying. Keeping everything running. As if those words didn’t stick in your head. As if nothing had changed. But inside… you knew. You couldn’t keep going like this.

The next day, they were still there. The comments grew clearer. Bolder. Less filtered. And you… remained silent. Professional. Keeping your distance.

Until finally, you realized—staying silent wasn’t enough. Because if this continues… it wouldn’t just be you who would break. But also the person you had been trying to protect from the start.

That night, you gathered the courage to contact Yoongi’s mother. The conversation wasn’t long. But enough to make your heart feel heavier.

“I think… I have to quit,” you said softly.

On the other hand, the woman’s voice immediately changed.

“Why?”

You didn’t answer right away. Then you explained. About those women. About what they said. About how it could lead in the wrong direction. And how you… didn’t want Yoongi to be affected again.

A long silence.

Then— “I don’t agree.”

You went quiet.

“He needs you,” she continued. “Maybe he doesn’t show it, but I know. He eats now. That’s already a big change.”

You bit your lip softly.

“Yes, but because of me he ends up getting rumors like that…”

“I’ll handle that,” she cut in gently but firmly. “You don’t leave.”

You closed your eyes for a moment. On one side, you knew she was right. On the other hand… you were also human. And you were too tired.

“I’ll think about it,” you whispered finally.

But inside, you already knew the answer.

The next day, you came as usual. And as usual… Yoongi stayed the same. Cold. Distant. As if nothing had changed. Until finally, you gathered the courage to speak.

“I want to quit.”

The sentence was simple. But enough to make him stop in place.

He looked at you. For a long time.

“Why?” he asked shortly.

You lowered your head slightly.

“Personal reasons.”

He clicked his tongue softly.

“It’s only been two weeks.”

You stayed silent.

“Couldn’t handle it, huh?” he continued, his tone thin, almost mocking. “Weak.”

That word—something you might have ignored on another day—felt deeper that day. Sharper. And you still didn’t respond.

“Yes,” you answered softly.

Not because you agreed. But because you were too tired to explain.

He looked away, as if your decision didn’t matter.

“Fine,” he said.

Just like that. As if you had never meant anything. And that… was enough to make your chest feel empty again.

That day you still worked until the end. As usual. As if it was just a normal last working day. Without drama. Without emotion. Without anything.

But what you didn’t know—that night, Yoongi’s mother spoke to him. And for the first time, he heard something that… he had never seen himself. About the women in the complex. About what they said. About how you chose to stay silent. About how you endured everything… just so his name wouldn’t be dragged again.

A long silence after that. Yoongi didn’t respond immediately. Didn’t react right away. But something slowly… moved inside him. Something he had kept tightly shut. Something he had ignored.

About you.

About everything you did without ever being appreciated.

About how you stayed… even when you were hurt from all directions.

And for the first time since you came into that house—Min Yoongi felt… maybe all this time, he was the one who had never truly seen.

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The change came slowly. Almost unnoticeable if you weren’t really paying attention.

That morning, you arrived as usual—calm, neat, without excessive expression. You took off your shoes, went straight to the kitchen, and started preparing the ingredients. Tang-ie greeted you, as always, meowing softly and brushing against your legs.

You gave a faint smile.

“Last day, huh,” you whispered softly.

You didn’t know whether you would really leave today or not. But you had prepared yourself… for it.

Upstairs, Min Yoongi stood for quite a while at the edge of the stairs. Watching. For the first time… not just seeing you as something bothersome. But truly… seeing.

The way you moved in the kitchen. The way your hands cut ingredients with a calm rhythm. The way you occasionally paused to taste, then adjusted the flavor without rushing. All of it… had always been there. He just never cared to notice.

“You came earlier today.”

His voice suddenly broke the silence. You paused for a moment. Then turned.

“Yes.” Your answer was short. Neutral. Not cold, but not warm either. And that… was different.

Usually, you would add something. A small sentence. A more lively tone. Now… there was nothing.

Yoongi walked down slowly. “What are you cooking?”

You returned to the cutting board. “As usual.”

The same kind of answer. Short. Clear. Leaving no room for further conversation.

He stood there for a few seconds. As if waiting. But you didn’t continue. Didn’t ask back. Didn’t try to start a conversation. And eventually… he was the one who left first.

Strange. Usually, you were the one trying. Now… you were pulling away.

That day, Yoongi actually sat down when you served the food. He ate. Slowly.

And as usual— “Not warm enough.”

You nodded slightly. “I’ll fix it.”

No defense. No explanation. Just that. And somehow… it felt different. Not because his words changed. But because your reaction did. No longer trying. No longer hoping. Just… doing.

The next day, Yoongi started appearing around you more often. Not to get angry. Not to criticize. But… as if searching for something.

“Do you always cook by yourself?” he asked one afternoon.

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m used to it.”

Your answers remained short. Always enough. No more. He looked at you for a few seconds longer. And for the first time, he noticed small things that previously… never entered his mind.

Your face. Not strikingly beautiful. But… natural. Calm. Without trying to look attractive. Without heavy makeup. Without an attitude seeking attention. And that… made it harder for him to look away.

The way you tied your hair. The way you tucked stray strands without realizing. The way you focused on your work… as if the outside world didn’t matter.

He frowned slightly. Why was he only noticing all of this now?

“Are you… always like this?” he asked again.

You paused briefly.

“Like what?”

“Just… normal.”

You looked at him. And for the first time… there was a clear distance in your eyes.

“I am just normal,” you answered.

The sentence was simple. But enough to silence him. Because now… you truly sounded like someone who didn’t want more. Didn’t want closeness. Didn’t want involvement. And that was the opposite of what he had always thought about people around him.

Yoongi was used to people approaching him. People want something. People see his status as BTS—as access, as opportunity.

But you… weren’t like that. You never tried to get close. Never took advantage. Never even… seemed interested beyond your job.

And that—was exactly what made him start paying attention.

Meanwhile, you… kept your distance even more. Not because you hated him. Not because you were angry. But because you knew your boundaries. You knew the kind of world he lived in. You knew how easily people could misunderstand.

You knew how one small step could turn into a big rumor—especially in a place like UN Village, where people spoke faster than they understood.

And you didn’t want to be part of that. You didn’t want to become the reason for new problems in his life.

So you stepped back. Slowly. Surely. Still polite. Still professional. But clearly… keeping your distance.

And for the first time—Yoongi felt it.

That distance. That absence.

Not a big loss. Not something dramatic. But… enough to make him realize—that the person who had always been in that house, the one he always ignored, the one he always hurt, was slowly… no longer in the same place.

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That day, you came with a decision you had fully made. Not one made out of momentary emotion, but because you had thought everything through—about your job, about your boundaries, about everything that had started to feel… too far from just being “professional.”

You finished cooking as usual. Calm. Neat. Without mistakes.

And when Min Yoongi sat at the dining table, you stood not far away as usual.

“I want to quit.”

This time, you didn’t wait for the “right” moment.

You said it immediately.

The spoon in Yoongi’s hand stopped. He didn’t look at you right away. Didn’t react immediately.

A few seconds passed, then— “You can’t.” His answer was quick. Too quick.

You frowned slightly. “I’m asking for permission, not your opinion,” you said softly, still polite.

He lifted his head. Looking at you. “You can’t quit.”

His tone wasn’t loud. But firm. And… strangely, it sounded like someone who didn’t want to lose something—even though he himself didn’t know what it was.

You took a slow breath. “What’s the reason?”

Silence. Yoongi opened his mouth, as if wanting to answer. Then closed it again. His gaze shifted briefly to the table, then back to you.

“…You just can’t.”

You stayed quiet. That answer… didn’t make sense. And you weren’t someone who would stay just because of “just because.”

“I need a reason,” you said softly.

He let out a rough breath, clearly frustrated—not at you, but at himself for not being able to explain.

“Just do your job,” he finally said. “Don’t ask too much.”

You looked at him for a few seconds. Then nodded slightly. “Okay.”

But this time… the distance was even clearer than before.

That day, Yoongi ate.

And for the first time—there was no comment.

No “too salty.” No “not enough flavor.” Not anything.

He just ate. Quietly.

And you noticed… even though you didn’t show it.

You knew. From the beginning… there was nothing wrong with your cooking.

And it seemed—he finally realized it too.

The following days changed. Not drastically. Not warmly. But… different. Yoongi started actually eating. Always. Without comments. Without criticism.

And that… felt more honest than all the words before.

Sometimes he still stood in the kitchen while you cooked. Not speaking. Just watching. And you stayed the same—calm, focused, not trying to get closer. Not giving more space than necessary.

Meanwhile, outside—Yoongi’s mother became even more confused. At first, she truly wanted you to stay. Because you didn’t just help—you cared. And that was rare.

Among her friends, your name was often mentioned.

“That girl is so kind,” she would say repeatedly.

Not because you were perfect. But because you were sincere. And that… showed.

When you said you wanted to quit, she had tried to hold you back. But after knowing your reasons—about the rumors, the pressure, everything you endured alone—her heart couldn’t bear it.

“Wouldn’t it be better… to just let her quit?” she said one night to Yoongi.

Her tone was soft. More like… worried.

“She’s endured enough.”

Yoongi stayed silent. Not answering immediately. His hands folded, his gaze empty ahead.

A few seconds passed. Then— “No.” The same answer. Short. But more certain than before.

His mother looked at him, slightly surprised. “Why?”

Silence. Yoongi looked away. “…She still works well.”

That wasn’t the reason. His mother knew. And for the first time, something began to become clear—something that had never been there before. Her son… was starting to change. Slowly. Very slowly. And maybe—he himself hadn’t realized it yet.

Meanwhile, in that big house in UN Village—you were still standing in the kitchen. Still cooking. Still keeping your distance. And Yoongi—for the first time—was starting to learn… what it felt like to not want someone to leave, but not knowing how to ask them to stay.

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A few days later, the atmosphere in the house felt slightly different. Not because of you. Not because Yoongi changed drastically either. But because that day… his mother came.

You already knew beforehand, so in the morning you prepared everything more neatly than usual. Not to show off, not to appear better—just because you wanted to make sure… nothing was wrong.

The kitchen was clean. The table was arranged. Warm dishes with simple but elegant plating.

When the door opened and Min Yoongi’s mother stepped in, the atmosphere that was usually cold… shifted. More alive. Warmer.

“You must be Y/N, right?” she greeted you with a genuinely warm smile.

You bowed slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you for taking care of Yoongi all this time.”

You smiled faintly. “I’m just doing my job.”

“But you do it with heart,” she replied immediately.

The sentence was simple. But enough to make your chest… feel a little warm.

Yoongi stood not far from there, watching. Silent. As usual. But this time… not completely indifferent.

At lunchtime, you served the food as usual. This time… they ate together. His mother sat at the table, took a bite. Then her eyes lit up.

“This is delicious.”

You were slightly surprised, but still smiled politely. “Thank you.”

“Really, this tastes perfect. Where did you learn to cook?”

“Self-taught.”

“No wonder Yoongi eats at home now.”

That sentence made the atmosphere fall slightly quiet.

Yoongi, who was eating, simply… nodded faintly. No comments. No corrections. No criticism. Just quiet… and eating.

And somehow—that felt far more meaningful than all the comments he had ever made before.

His mother smiled seeing that. Clearly… she noticed. All those small changes.

The conversation continued lightly. About food, about your work, about simple things. Until eventually—the topic shifted.

“By the way,” his mother said casually, turning to you, “I have an acquaintance.”

You glanced slightly.

“A friend’s son. A director at a big company. He’s kind, well-established, handsome too,” she continued with a smile. “I think he’d suit you.”

You paused slightly. Not surprised. But… not completely ready either.

“Oh… thank you, ma’am,” you replied politely.

“You don’t mind if I introduce you?”

You thought for a moment. This was normal. Nothing wrong with it. And you had never seriously thought about things like that, but you weren’t closed off either.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

Yoongi, who had been eating calmly—stopped. His spoon froze mid-air. His gaze didn’t go directly to you. But clearly… he heard.

“Good,” his mother continued happily. “I’ll send your number later.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The conversation continued. As if it was just a small thing. But not for Yoongi.

From that moment, the atmosphere at the dining table felt… slightly different. He didn’t speak. But he seemed… less calm than before.

And you noticed it. Even though you didn’t know why.

A few hours later, his mother left. The house returned… quiet. As usual.

You were tidying the kitchen when Yoongi suddenly appeared behind you.

“Give me your phone.”

You turned, slightly confused. “Why?”

“Just give it.”

His tone was flat. But there was something… unusual.

You hesitated for a moment.

“Eomma sent you the number, right?”

You didn’t answer immediately. And that… was already enough.

He stepped closer. “Give it.”

You finally handed your phone over. He immediately opened it, found the chat—didn’t take long. And before you could react—he deleted it.

You froze.

“Yoongi—”

“Don’t reply.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

He didn’t answer right away. His hand is still holding your phone, but his gaze now… elsewhere.

“No need.”

“That’s my business,” you said softly, but clearly.

He lifted his head, looking at you. And for the first time… there was something in his eyes that wasn’t cold. Not angry. More like… restless.

“You work here,” he finally said. “Just focus here.”

That sounded like a reason. But not a strong one.

You frowned slightly. “That has nothing to do with it.”

He stayed silent. Like before—unable to explain. And that… made you even more uneasy.

You took a slow breath.

“You don’t have the right to control that,” you continued, still calm even though your heart felt unsettled.

He looked away. His jaw tightened slightly.

“Do whatever you want,” he said finally.

But his tone… didn’t really mean that.

He handed your phone back. Then left. As usual. Leaving you with more questions than answers.

You stood in the kitchen, staring at your phone screen that was now empty. This should have been normal. You should have been angry. Or at least… annoyed.

But what you felt instead—confusion.

And a little… fear.

Because you knew—he wasn’t an ordinary person. He was part of BTS. His world… was different. And you didn’t want to be dragged into something you didn’t understand.

Meanwhile, in another room—Min Yoongi sat in silence. His hands were empty. But his mind wasn’t.

For the first time—your presence was no longer something he merely tolerated.

But something… he was starting to notice.

And maybe—something he was starting to fear losing, even before he truly understood what it was.

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That morning felt… too quiet.

You came as usual to the villa in UN Village, opened the door carefully, took off your shoes, then went straight to the kitchen. Tang-ie still greeted you, meowing softly and brushing against your legs like always. But something was different.

There were no footsteps from upstairs. No figure standing quietly on the stairs. Nothing. You kept cooking. Chopping, sautéing, adjusting the heat—everything moved like a routine already embedded in your body. But a few times, you glanced toward the stairs.

Empty.

After everything was ready, you waited. Usually, at least he would come down briefly. Today… nothing. You let out a quiet breath, then walked toward the stairs.

“Yoongi?”

No answer.

You knocked on his door. Gently at first. Then a bit louder. Still nothing.

Your brows started to furrow. “Yoongi, I’m outside.”

Silence.

You stood there for a few seconds. Then went back down. Maybe he’s sleeping, you thought. You tried not to panic. You continued tidying the house, organizing a few areas as usual. But the uneasy feeling… didn’t leave.

One hour. Two hours. Still no sound.

You went upstairs again. This time, your knock was firmer.

“Yoongi?”

Still no answer. Your heart began beating faster. “If you don’t answer, I’m coming in.”

No response.

Slowly, you opened the door. And the moment it opened—you knew something was wrong.

Min Yoongi lay on the bed, his face pale, his breathing heavy. The blanket was messy, and even from that distance you could see… he wasn’t okay.

You immediately approached. “Yoongi?”

No response. You touched his forehead—hot. Very hot.

“Oh God…”

You didn’t panic. You couldn’t panic.

You moved quickly—getting water, a small towel, making sure he was in a more comfortable position. You opened the window slightly, replaced the compress, and tried to wake him gently.

“Yoongi… can you hear me?”

He groaned softly. At least he was conscious.

“You have a fever,” you whispered, your voice automatically softer.

That day… completely changed. You were no longer just cooking. You were taking care of him. Watching over him. Making sure he drank, even if you had to insist. Replacing the compress multiple times. Sitting beside the bed, observing every small change.

Time passed without you realizing. Afternoon. Night. The room lights were dim, leaving only a warm glow that made the atmosphere calmer… but also quieter.

You sat on the chair beside the bed, your body starting to feel tired, but you couldn’t really leave.

“I should go home…” you whispered softly.

But you didn’t move. Because every time you tried to stand—you saw his face. Pale. Weak. And you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

When you finally stood to get something—suddenly— Your hand was grabbed. You startled. Turned. Yoongi. His eyes were still closed. His breathing was heavy. As if… not fully conscious.

“Don’t…”

His voice was hoarse. Almost a whisper.

You froze.

“Don’t leave…”

His grip tightened around your wrist. You didn’t know what to do.

“Yoongi… I’m just—”

“Don’t leave me…”

This time clearer. Deeper. And somehow… it didn’t sound like someone with a fever. More like… someone truly afraid.

You stayed silent. A few seconds passed. Then slowly… you sat back down.

“Okay,” you whispered softly. “I’m here.”

His hand was still holding yours. And you… didn’t let go. That night, you didn’t go home. You stayed there, sitting beside his bed, occasionally replacing the compress, making sure he stayed stable. Tang-ie even climbed onto the bed, curling up near his feet, as if guarding too.

Time moved slowly. And without realizing—your head began to feel heavy. Your eyes slowly closed. And eventually… you fell asleep. Still sitting on that chair. Still beside him. Still with your hands almost touching.

A few hours later— Yoongi opened his eyes. Slowly. His vision was blurry at first, his head still heavy. But his body temperature had slightly dropped, his breathing more stable. He blinked a few times. Then—he saw you.

Sitting on the chair, your head tilted slightly to the side, asleep in a clearly uncomfortable position. Your face looked tired, but still calm.

And for a few seconds—he just… stared. Silent. Not moving. Not believing.

You… didn’t leave. Even though he knew—you could have. After everything he had done. After everything he had said. But you stayed. Taking care of him. Without being asked. Without obligation.

Something in his chest felt… tight. Not from sickness. But from a feeling he had buried too deeply for too long.

He slowly sat up. Still weak, but enough. And without making much noise, he stood… then walked toward you. Slowly. Carefully. As if afraid of waking you.

He stopped in front of you for a few seconds. Looking at your face more closely. Natural. Calm. Without defenses. And for the first time—he felt… guilty. Deeply.

Without thinking much, he bent slightly… and lifted you. You were light. Lighter than he expected. He carried you to the bed, laying you down carefully, making sure your head was comfortable on the pillow, and pulling the blanket over your body.

You shifted slightly, but didn’t wake. Yoongi stood there for a few seconds. Then slowly… sat on the other side of the bed. Watching you. For a long time. In silence.

Tang-ie moved slightly, getting closer to you, as usual. And Yoongi just… stayed quiet. His mind is full. Of everything he had done. Every word he had said. Every way he had treated you. And now—you were still here. Taking care of him. Without ever asking for anything.

He let out a quiet breath. His hand moved slightly, almost touching your hair… but stopped mid-air. Hesitant. Afraid. And eventually… he pulled his hand back. Lying down beside you. Still keeping a distance. But close enough to see you clearly.

The room was dim. The atmosphere is quiet. And for the first time since all that chaos— Min Yoongi closed his eyes… with a different feeling. Not anger. Not emptiness. But something… slowly becoming warm. Even though he didn’t yet know… what to call it.

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Morning came slowly, slipping through the curtains with a soft, warm light. You woke up gradually. At first… you didn’t immediately realize where you were. Until you felt something.

Warm. Close. And… heavy.

Your breath hitched slightly as you realized—someone’s arm was wrapped around your waist. Your body stiffened instantly. Slowly, you opened your eyes.

And there— You were in Min Yoongi’s bed.

Held. 

From behind.

His face was very close to your shoulder, his breath warm, steady—not like last night. He was much better now.

Your heart immediately started beating faster. Too loud, you were afraid he could hear it. You didn’t move right away. You didn’t know what to do.

Slowly… you tried to breathe. Calm. You had to be calm. But that was exactly what was hard.

A few seconds felt like forever. And then—you realized. He was awake.

You didn’t see it, but you could feel it. The way his breathing changed slightly. The way he holds… didn’t loosen. Didn’t tighten either. Just… stayed. As if he was aware, but chose not to let go.

You closed your eyes again. Pretending to still be asleep. Trying to steady yourself. Trying to quiet all the feelings that suddenly crowded your chest.

And in that position— Silence.

Only the sound of your breathing. Close. Too close.

“…Sorry.”

His voice was soft. Hoarse. Still with his eyes closed.

You didn’t answer immediately. It took a few seconds before you could find your voice.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. And that was honest.

You weren’t angry. Not upset. Not blaming. But… that didn’t mean everything was fine. Silence again.

His arm was still there. Still holding you. And you knew—if you didn’t say something now, you would be pulled further than you should.

“We need to keep our distance.”

The words came out softly. But clear.

You felt his body stiffen slightly behind you. For the first time… his hold changed. Not letting go. But… resisting. As if he didn’t want to hear it.

“I know where this is going,” you continued, still with your eyes closed, because you weren’t sure you could say it if you had to look at him. “And I can’t.”

Silence. Heavier than before.

“I don’t fit into your world,” you whispered. “Your life… isn’t something I can bring into mine.”

Every word felt like… you were pulling it out of your own chest. Slowly. Painfully. But necessary.

“I don’t want to be part of something that… I won’t be able to handle it later.”

His arm slowly… weakened. But hadn’t fully let go. And at that moment—for the first time—Yoongi opened his eyes.

His gaze was blank for a few seconds. Then… it fell onto your back. Close. Too close. And somehow—your words hurt more than all the harsh comments he had ever heard. All this time—people always came to him. Got close. Reached. Expected. No one ever stepped back. No one ever chose… no.

And you— You did. Without hesitation. Without trying to stay longer. Without even… giving him a chance. His chest felt tight. Not from anger. Not just from ego. But because—for the first time—he realized. This feeling… was real. Not just getting used to your presence. Not just comfort. But more. And you— You had already drawn the line first.

“…Do you think I’m playing around?”

His voice was low. Still hoarse.

You slowly opened your eyes. Looking straight ahead.

“I don’t think anything,” you answered honestly. “I’m just… protecting myself.”

It wasn’t a harsh rejection. But that—was what hurt the most. Because you weren’t rejecting him. You were rejecting the possibility. Rejecting a path he hadn’t even explained yet. And that… left him with no room to fight back.

His arm finally… let go. Slowly. Like something forced. He pulled back slightly. But didn’t fully move away. His gaze remained on you. Silent. Heavy.

For the first time— Min Yoongi felt something unfamiliar. Rejection. Not because he wasn’t enough. Not because he lacked anything. But because… you chose not to enter his world. And somehow— That hurt far deeper than an ordinary rejection.

Meanwhile, you— Slowly sat up from that position. Sitting at the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath. Holding everything you felt inside. Because the truth was— This wasn’t easy for you either. Not at all. But you knew— If you didn’t stop now… You might not be able to stop later.

Author Notes: Do you think I should make a Part 2?

It starts off with him just going to his trailer because he forgot his lucky bracelet (the one you gave him on his birthday the first year you celebrated together). The door almost hits him on the ass by the time you jump him, and he barely has time to be surprised before you grab his face and pull him down.

“How’d you sneak in here?” he chuckles between breathless kisses, hands going to your waist like clockwork.

“I’m your wife. Duh,” you snap, fingers ensnaring the heavy chains around his neck.

“I start filming in five minutes.”

“I’ll be quick.” He never argues with you. He lets you push him down on the couch, straddle him, kiss and lick at the base of his neck, knowing you don’t need the reminder not to make marks unless you want a hit put on you by his stylist, and you’re always careful not to touch his face for that same reason. It takes him a second to realize you’re wearing a skirt. He opens his mouth to scold you for coming to see him in clothes like that since it’s so cold out but then you reach under to dip into your bare, sopping pussy. Ah. Easy access. You came with a plan.

In all the years you’ve been together, it’s never taken much for you to get him hard. You walk into a room and bam - he has to adjust himself. And when you touch him - there goes his thoughts for a few minutes. It’s always been like this, and he knows it’ll never change. So when you figure out how to get into his boxers without pushing down too much leather, he’s already stiff and leaking at the tip.

You smear down his precum and he bites his lip when you grab his cock with the fingers you had between your legs, glistening with your slick, making him nice and wet for you.

“Damn, baby. Were you playing with yourself while you waited for me?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, whimpering as you finally let him penetrate your walls. You’re so wet and warm and tight when you sink down on him that he has to hold in a breath to keep himself together. But then he reminds himself that this is a quickie. He knows you could stay here and ride him until his balls are empty, but, unfortunately, he doesn’t have that kind of time. His phone - that he shouldn’t even have on him in the first place (he does though, just for you) - has been vibrating in his pocket for the past few minutes, but the more he’s distracted, the longer it’ll take him to make you both come, so he ignores it.

Your hands grip his shoulders as you wiggle your hips to adjust to his girth that he finds so fucking cute every single time, but he can hardly feel your touch through the thick leather of his jacket. He curses, because his fingerless gloves are preventing him from fully touching the skin on your hip, so he grips you hard enough to bruise. Usually, he’d let you bounce and ride him until you came on him and got too tired to carry on, but to speed things up, he bucks up into you, watching your parted lips spill out moans as he grinds against your spot, grunting as it makes you squeeze him and suck him deeper in. He kisses you, swallowing your sweet sounds, and his balls tighten when your fingers dig into the side of his head, tightly fisting his hair. Telltale sign that you’re close. You must've really worked yourself up while you were waiting for him.

“Come for me,” he whispers against your lips, fingers dropping and finding your clit to press and rub you over the edge. You loudly cry out his name, pulling at his hair so his head tips to the side as he continues fucking up into you and kissing the underside of your jaw. “That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re squeezing me so good.”

“Come inside," you warble, cheek lolling against his temple, fingers still entangled in his hair, cunt clenching him through your aftershocks.

“Mm.” Eyebrows pinched, his fingers return to flex on your hip, cock twitching at the mere thought of getting to fill you up. “Remember to take your pill.”

You whine, indignant. He sighs, shakes his head. You make that sound when he doesn’t give you what you want.

“I’ll give you a baby when we come back from tour, ‘kay?”

You whine again, louder and borderline disobedient, slamming down on him like it tells him something. Sucking in a hiss because damn that felt good, he slaps your ass and massages out the sting, a silent warning to stop being a brat. This is one thing he’s not going to let you win an argument about.

“Hey, that was the deal, right? I’m not leaving you at home alone and pregnant while I fly around the world for eight months.”

“Yeah, but by the time you’d get back, you’d have a baby. You wouldn’t have to deal with all my pregnancy bullshit,” you try to reason, hips still rolling, eyes glassy and pout pathetic. He frowns. You’ve both had this conversation multiple times before, but that’s the first time you’ve made this point. He doesn’t fucking like it.

Yoongi tugs down on your waist to get you to stop, pelvises pressed together, cock deep inside you. But you know better than to move.

“Look at me.” You refuse, and the leather of his fingerless gloves rubs your cheeks as he grabs them. “I want to deal with all your pregnancy bullshit. I married you, remember? I signed up to put up with all your bullshit for the rest of my life and I don’t plan on missing out on any of it.”

His eyes dart between both of yours, making sure what he said is sticking with you, and when you lean in to sloppily kiss him, he knows the message got through.

“Now, c’mon. You said you were gonna be quick.”

You sit up straighter, and you’re clearly weakened from your orgasm but you put in effort that he’ll worship you for later to bring him to his own peak. Slick sounds of your pussy and slams of your hips fill the trailer, and within seconds of you squeezing him, sucking on his earlobe, and toying with his chains, he’s muttering an incoherent string of curses and spilling deep inside you. His balls just keep pulsing and holyyy shit, he really could get you pregnant right now. (He would love nothing more, but later he’ll text you another reminder to take your pill).

“I love you so fucking much,” he pants into your neck, wishing he had the time to leave his mark. “Even though you’re gonna get me in so much fucking trouble.”

“Love you, too. Don’t forget you married trouble,” You grin, waggling his ring on your finger in his facr, and his hips jerk as you lift off of him. He tips his chin up when you start to lean in for another kiss but your mouth drops and your eyes go wide.

“Oh, fuck, your hair-“ You reach out to try and fix it, but just as you do, a loud pounding on the trailer door startles the both of you.

“Shit, gotta go,” Yoongi mutters, quickly stuffing himself back in this godforsaken leather as his manager starts yelling for him to come out. You try your best to smooth down his hair, but when you keep muttering curses under your breath, he knows it’s not working.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you later.” He kisses you, lingers a second longer than he has time for, and leaves you sitting on the couch, skirt halfway up your waist, fingers playing with his cum dripping out. Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him. He needs to shoot this music video first.

Yoongi’s manager chews him all the way out onto the set, and his stylist gives him the evilest eye when she catches sight of his hair. He just scurries towards his band because his manager already said there’s no time to fix it.

“Where were you?” Namjoon exclaims as Yoongi walks towards the center of the platform. He shrugs, like he’s not still perspiring and his dick isn’t still hard. Luckily, his leather pants are bulky enough to hide it. “I had to grab something.”

“Look at his hair! That means his honey came to visit,” Hobi says, waggling his brows. Yoongi shoots him daggers.

“Shut up.”

The maknaes burst into raucous laughter and Taehyung and Jimin mime grabbing at each other, making overexaggerated kissing noises and mimicking the way you cry out Yoongi’s name. Yoongi turns his back on them to go to his spot, just missing Jeongguk thrusting in the air like he’s mid-Baepsae.

“You brought this on yourself,” Namjoon mutters, stepping up next to him, fixing his gloves. Yoongi pretends not to hear. “It’s been, what, four years? And y’all still act like newlyweds.”

“We’re making up for the time we missed while I was in the military.”

Namjoon’s face pulls back, disgusted. “Okay, well, can you not do that on our schedule?” “Sorry, leader-nim,” Yoongi fake apologizes, pressing his hands together, smirk lopsided and shit-eating. “Maybe if you let her come on tour, she wouldn’t find any downtime I have now to, yknow, make up.”

Namjoon sighs, long and distressed. Yoongi only feels a little bad. You’re his wife. He needs you by his side, and not just to have little quickies whenever there’s minutes to spare. He was enough of a wreck being away from you during his service. He doesn’t want that to happen because of work.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

Yoongi smiles, lighting up inside and out. “Thanks, bro. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Namjoon waves him off, just in time for the director to call for action.

He doesn’t know how crazy his hair looks until they play the footage back to check for mistakes and potential position adjustments. His band members tease him, but it makes him smile that it’s there because you need to grab onto his hair when he makes you come. No one outside of this set will ever know his cowlick is thanks to his wife, and that makes him like it even more.

He still left his damn bracelet.

.

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thank you for reading!!! ahhhh i cant believe this happened lmao pls let me know what you think with comments and reblogs!! 💜

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The night in Seoul felt quieter than usual. Not because the city was truly silent—the lights were still on, cars still passing by—but because inside your room, everything felt… slower. The desk lamp cast a warm glow, softly reflecting off the walls, while you sat comfortably on your bed after a shower, your hair still half damp.

A small towel rested on your shoulders, your fingers busy drying the ends of your hair as you occasionally glanced at your phone. Moments like this were usually your favorite—calm, no distractions, no expectations.

Until your phone screen suddenly lit up.

Namjoon calling…

Instinctively, the corners of your lips lifted. Even before you fully realized it, your heart had already reacted—warm, light, familiar. You picked up the call immediately.

“Hello—”

“Y/N…”

That voice instantly changed your smile.

Soft. Hoarse. Not like usual.

Your brows furrowed automatically, your body leaning slightly forward. “What’s wrong with you?”

On the screen, Kim Nam-joon looked… different. His hair was messy, the thin t-shirt he wore slightly wrinkled, and his sitting posture wasn’t relaxed like usual. He was at the edge of a hotel bed, slightly hunched, one hand pressing against his stomach.

His face looked pale. His expression was holding something back.

He let out a slow breath, as if even breathing required effort.

“My stomach hurts…”

And for some reason—your reaction was purely reflex.

You burst out laughing.

“HAHA—I knew it!” you quickly covered your mouth, but the laughter had already escaped. “You just did Hot Ones, didn’t you?!”

Namjoon lifted his face slightly, looking at you with a mix of offense and resignation. “Why are you laughing… this is serious…”

“How many levels did you eat?” you were still trying to suppress your laughter, though your smile clearly hadn’t disappeared.

He shook his head slowly, wincing again. “I don’t know… the last one… it was like fire. Actual fire, Y/N. It went straight here…” his hand pressed into his stomach again, deeper this time.

You bit your lip, trying to stay serious… but the fond amusement was impossible to hide. “That’s what you get for trying to act tough. You can’t even handle spicy food.”

“But everyone else was eating…” he muttered softly.

His tone shifted. Smaller. More defensive—like a child looking for justification.

And that immediately softened your expression.

Your laughter faded, replaced by a gentler smile. You let out a small sigh. “Alright… how are you now? Did you drink milk or something?”

“I did…” he replied shortly. “But it still hurts…”

His shoulders dropped slightly, his body looking even more drained. Then, almost like he was talking to himself—

“Usually when I’m sick… you’re there…”

The sentence felt just like that. No drama. No pressure. But that was exactly what made you go quiet. Before you could respond, the atmosphere suddenly shifted.

“HEY—video call with Y/N noona?!”

“Hyung’s complaining again?!”

Several heads suddenly popped into the screen without permission. Jimin was in front with his mischievous smile, Jungkook beside him waving energetically, and Taehyung leaning back casually with an entertained expression.

“Noona! Please help, our leader is so weak!” Jimin attacked immediately, laughing.

“Can you not…” Namjoon tried to respond, but his voice was too weak to sound convincing—which only made the others more amused.

“Must be nice having a girlfriend,” Jungkook sighed dramatically. “Gets a video call the moment he feels a little sick.”

“Usually he gets taken care of in person, right?” Taehyung added casually, deliberately emphasizing in person.

Namjoon immediately covered his face with one hand. “Can you guys leave…”

“Why are you shy, hyung?” Jimin leaned closer to the camera. “Noona, he’s been like this the whole time—lying down, holding his stomach, going ‘ah it hurts… ah it’s burning…’”

“It DOES hurt!” Namjoon defended himself, though he sounded even less convincing.

You couldn’t hold back your smile. The scene was too… warm. Noisy, teasing each other, but still caring.

“Did you guys also eat something really spicy?” you finally asked.

“He forced it!” Jimin pointed at Namjoon.

“That’s a lie,” Jungkook cut in. “Hyung got competitive too.”

“You’re both the same,” Taehyung chuckled.

Amid all that, your eyes kept returning to Namjoon. He was still in the same position. Slightly hunched. Occasionally rubbing his stomach. He was trying to act normal… but you knew.

This wasn’t just him being dramatic.

“Guys, can you give Namjoon some space?” you finally said, your voice softer but firm. “He actually looks unwell.”

The atmosphere immediately calmed a little.

Jimin glanced at Namjoon, then at you. “Hmm… yeah.”

“I’ve been saying that…” Namjoon muttered quietly.

“We’ll leave you two,” Taehyung said as he stood up. “The personal doctor is online.”

“Get well soon, hyung!” Jungkook waved.

Jimin was the last one. He leaned close to the camera and whispered quickly, “Please take care of him, noona. He’s really whiny,” then ran off before you could respond.

The door closed. And suddenly… silence. Now it was just the two of you.

Namjoon looked at you again. Longer. More focused. No distractions, no other voices. His face was still pale, but something had changed—he seemed calmer.

“I miss you…” he said softly.

You paused for a moment, then smiled gently. “I miss you too.”

He let out a long breath and leaned against the headboard. “If you were here… you’d already be panicking, telling me to drink this and that, nagging me…”

“And you wouldn’t listen,” you cut in immediately.

He smiled faintly. “True…”

“And then you’d say ‘I’m fine’ when you’re clearly not.”

Namjoon looked at you more deeply, his smile growing slightly. “You know me too well.”

“Because you’re always like that.”

Silence. But not an awkward one. More like… comfortable. He shifted his phone a little closer, as if trying to shorten the distance between you.

“So… are you taking care of me now?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Yeah. Even if it’s just through a screen.”

His gaze softened. Deeper.

“Then, Doctor Y/N,” he teased lightly, “what should I do?”

You pulled the blanket onto your lap and started in a half-serious tone.

“Okay. First—sit properly. Don’t curl up like that.”

He obeyed immediately, slowly fixing his posture.

“Second—get some warm water. Not cold.”

He glanced to the side. “The warm water is far…”

You gave him a sharp look. “Namjoon.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright…”

“Go get it now.”

He let out a long sigh, but eventually stood up. His steps were slow, a bit heavy. You watched without realizing it—the way he moved, the way he endured the discomfort.

Once he came back with a glass of water, you continued.

“Third—drink slowly.”

He did.

And somehow… that made you smile a little.

“And fourth…” you paused.

He looked at you, waiting. Your voice softened.

“Stay on the call with me.”

He went quiet. Then nodded slightly.

“Deal.”

He leaned back again, this time more relaxed. His breathing still wasn’t fully steady, but his expression was much calmer. And slowly, you started talking. Small things. Random things. Simple things you usually shared.

Namjoon just listened. Occasionally nodding. Occasionally smiling softly.

And without you realizing— his eyes started to glisten slightly. Not because of the spice anymore. But because… he truly missed you.

 ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Time passed without you realizing it. You were still in the same position, leaning against the headboard with your phone in hand, while on the screen, Namjoon looked slightly calmer now. Not fully recovered—his hand still occasionally moved to his stomach—but at least his breathing wasn’t as heavy as before.

The atmosphere between you had changed. Not panicked anymore. More… slow.

“Are you feeling better?” you asked softly, your voice almost like a whisper.

Namjoon didn’t answer right away. He just looked at you for a few seconds, as if enjoying the fact that you were still there. Then he slowly shook his head.

“Still burning…” he muttered.

His hand pressed against his stomach again, more gently this time, like the pain was easing but not completely gone.

You nodded slightly, trying to stay calm. “Did you eat anything after that?”

“Manager hyung gave me milk and bread…” he replied. “Then told me to rest.”

His tone was flat. Not because he didn’t care—but more like… empty. Like something was missing.

“Did you take medicine?”

“Yeah.”

Short answer. Silence again.

Namjoon tilted his phone slightly, then slowly lay down. His movements weren’t rushed, as if he was being careful with his own body. The blanket was pulled up to his stomach, his hand still occasionally moving over the fabric, trying to find the most comfortable position.

You watched without realizing it. The small details. The way he breathed. The way his shoulders slowly dropped. The way his eyes occasionally closed for a moment before opening again.

“You look really tired…” you finally said softly.

Namjoon gave a faint smile.

“Yeah…”

Then, after a small pause—

“And… it feels different.”

You frowned slightly. “Different how?”

He went quiet for a moment. His gaze dropped, then returned to you.

“Usually when I’m sick…” he paused, taking a slow breath, “…I don’t have to think about anything.”

You didn’t interrupt.

“Because you already think about everything first.”

The sentence was simple. But the way he said it—without joking, without hiding it—made your chest feel warm… and heavy at the same time.

“What to drink, what to eat, how I should rest…” he continued. “You’re always nagging… but it means I don’t have to take care of myself.”

You smiled slightly. “It’s not that you don’t have to—you’re just lazy.”

Namjoon let out a soft chuckle. This time, more alive.

“That’s true…”

Silence again. But this time, it felt deeper.

“But now…” his voice dropped again, “…I have to remind myself.”

He glanced at the glass beside him.

“I have to get up and get water on my own. I have to remember to take my medicine…”

His hand touched the glass briefly, then let go again.

“Manager hyung helps… but it just…” he paused, searching for the word, “…doesn’t feel the same.”

You understood immediately. It wasn’t about who helped him. It was about who he wanted.

You leaned slightly closer to the screen, your voice softening. “Namjoon…”

He looked at you right away. Quickly. Like he had been waiting for you to speak.

“You’re doing well,” you said softly. “You’re still taking care of yourself even when you’re far from me.”

He shook his head. Quickly.

“I don’t want to be strong.”

You almost laughed.

“I just want to be spoiled…”

His voice was small. Honest. Unfiltered.

And that was… so him.

You covered your mouth for a moment, holding back a smile. “You’re the leader of BTS, you know that?”

“Yeah…” he replied quickly, “…but I’m also your boyfriend.”

You froze.

No argument. No quick response. Just a gaze that softened instantly.

Namjoon moved his phone a little closer. His face filled the screen—slightly tired eyes, messy hair, an expression he rarely showed to others.

“I’m tired of pretending to be strong,” he said softly. “With you… I don’t have to.”

You took a slow breath.

“Alright,” you replied gently. “Then you don’t have to be strong right now. I’m here.”

Namjoon went quiet.

Then he pulled the blanket higher, almost covering half his face, but his eyes stayed on you.

“Can I be clingy?” he asked.

You smiled warmly. “You’ve been clingy this whole time.”

He smiled softly. And this time… his eyes became slightly watery again.

Before the moment could go any deeper—

Knock knock.

A knock on the door.

“Hyung! Can I come in?”

A familiar voice.

Namjoon let out a small sigh. “Just come in…”

The door opened. And the atmosphere instantly changed.

Jungkook walked in first, one hand holding his stomach, his face wincing but still carrying his usual energy. Behind him, Jimin followed, his steps a little slower but his smile already there.

“Y/N noona!” Jungkook immediately waved at the camera. “I’m sick too…”

You shook your head slowly, unable to hold back a smile. “What is wrong with all of you…”

“This isn’t our fault,” Jimin defended himself right away. “That last sauce was evil.”

“Manager hyung gave us medicine too,” Jungkook added while sitting on the floor near the bed. “But it still… hurts differently.”

Namjoon glanced at them briefly. Then back at you. His expression shifted slightly. Calmer… but there was something else.

“I’m talking to Y/N,” he said softly, but clearly.

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Wow… selfish.”

“You have Y/N too,” Jungkook casually said.

Everyone froze for a second.

“…I mean—hyung’s Y/N,” Jungkook quickly corrected himself.

Jimin immediately burst into laughter. You laughed softly too, shaking your head.

But in the middle of it—Namjoon wasn’t focused on them. He was only looking at you. His hand moved slowly over the blanket, then he said quietly—

“I want you here…”

The noise around seemed to fade. Jimin and Jungkook were still joking, but for you… the only thing you heard was him.

“If you were here…” he continued softly, “…I probably wouldn’t feel this bad.”

You bit your lip, holding back something hard to explain.

“Then next time,” you finally said, half joking, half serious, “I’ll just go with you to the US.”

Namjoon’s eyes immediately changed. Brighter. “Really?”

You smiled slightly. “If you promise not to eat spicy food again.”

He immediately shook his head. “No promises.”

You laughed.

And this time—Namjoon laughed too. Softly. But real.

For the first time since he said he was in pain… he actually looked a little better.

On the other side, Jungkook leaned his head against the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I think I need Y/N noona too…”

Jimin immediately nudged him. “You need self-control.”

“You too,” Jungkook shot back quickly.

You laughed softly watching them.

The atmosphere became warm again. Light. But beneath all of it—Namjoon’s gaze never truly left you.

And without you realizing it— the presence of the two people in that room didn’t feel disturbing. Instead, it slowly… became part of the rhythm of your night.

A habit that felt natural.

As if—this wasn’t over yet.

And it wasn’t.

Because without realizing it— That night would continue, longer. More crowded. And more… close.

 ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The room that had been quiet earlier was now filled again—but not with chaos. More like… warmth.

Jungkook was already sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back leaning against the side of the bed, one hand still holding his stomach. Jimin climbed onto the bed, sitting a bit far from Namjoon but still within the frame, his face already full of expression again.

And like you could feel— they didn’t really intend to leave.

“Noona…” Jungkook moved a little closer to the phone, his eyes widening with an expression that was clearly too exaggerated to be serious. “Take care of me too…”

You let out a small laugh. “What’s wrong with you?”

“My stomach hurts too…” he pouted, his tone turning clingy. “I think it’s worse than Namjoon hyung…”

“HEY,” Namjoon protested softly.

Jimin immediately chimed in, “I’m sick too… but I’m the strongest.”

“You’ve been the noisiest,” Namjoon replied, his voice now slightly more alive.

You shook your head slowly, your smile still there. “You guys… one by one.”

You adjusted your sitting position, as if you were really dealing with multiple patients at once.

“Okay. Jungkook first,” you started, half serious. “Have you had milk?”

Jungkook nodded quickly. “I have. But I think it’s not enough…”

“Don’t drink too much either. You’ll feel nauseous.”

“Okayyy…” he replied, dragging the word, but still obeying.

He was still looking at you. Too focused.

“If you were here…” he continued, lowering his voice slightly, “would you hold me?”

Jimin immediately burst into laughter. “Here we go…”

Namjoon just glanced at Jungkook. Not angry. But enough to show—he heard.

You simply smiled slightly, completely unfazed. “I’d tell you to sit properly first.”

Jungkook laughed right away, then fixed his sitting position. “Yes, doctor.”

“And drink warm water too.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Jimin cut in. “What about me?”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes slightly. “You definitely ate a lot earlier.”

“No!” Jimin defended himself immediately.

“He had seconds,” Jungkook cut in quickly.

Jimin shot him a sharp look. “You too!”

You laughed softly watching them.

“Alright, you’re both the same,” you said gently. “Jimin, you drink something warm too. Don’t lie down right away.”

Jimin nodded, this time calmer. “Yes, Y/N noona.”

His tone was made formal, but his eyes stayed warm. In the middle of all that— Namjoon stayed quiet. He didn’t interrupt. Didn’t joke much.

He just looked at you. The way you responded one by one. The way you stayed soft but firm. The way you noticed small details, even from afar.

And without realizing it— he smiled.

“Y/N noona is really kind,” Jimin suddenly said.

You blinked slightly. “Huh?”

“Seriously,” he continued. “Even though you’re far away, you’re still taking care of all of us.”

Jungkook nodded. “That’s why I like video calling you.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow slightly. “Excuses.”

“But it’s true,” Jungkook said casually. “Noona is really calming.”

You laughed softly, a little shy. “You guys are exaggerating…”

“No,” Jimin shook his head. “That’s why we all care about you.”

That sentence shifted the atmosphere a little. Calmer. Warmer.

You smiled gently. “I care about you guys too.”

And it felt sincere. It showed in the way you looked at them one by one. In the way your voice stayed soft. In the way you stayed present—even if only through a screen.

Jungkook suddenly leaned closer to the camera again. Closer than before.

“If I get sick again… can I just video call you right away?” he asked, his tone light but clearly intentional.

You smiled casually. “You have your hyungs.”

“But you’re better,” he replied quickly.

Jimin burst out laughing. “This guy…”

Namjoon finally spoke.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes, hyung?”

“That’s my girlfriend.”

His tone stayed calm. Not loud. Not angry. But clear.

Jungkook grinned widely. “I know.”

“You know but you still act like that.”

“I’m just talking,” he shrugged casually.

You simply shook your head, but your smile didn’t fade.

And interestingly— Namjoon didn’t look annoyed. He leaned his head back instead, his eyes returning to you. Calm. Certain. Because he knew. No matter how flirty Jungkook was. No matter how playful the others were. Your gaze never changed. It always returned to him. Always softer when you look at him. And that was enough.

“Y/N…” Namjoon called softly.

You immediately focused. “Hmm?”

“My stomach still hurts…”

His tone changed again. Softer. More clingy.

You immediately returned to serious mode. “I know. Did you drink again?”

Jungkook groaned dramatically. “Ugh, back to Namjoon hyung again…”

Jimin laughed. “Of course.”

You smiled, then said softly but clearly—

“Because he’s my priority.”

Silence. One second. Enough to make everything pause for a moment. Namjoon went still. And this time— his smile wasn’t just small. It was warm. Deep.

Meanwhile, Jungkook dropped his head onto the bed dramatically. “I want to be prioritized too…”

“You’re prioritized to drink water right now,” you replied quickly.

Jungkook laughed. Jimin laughed too. And the room was filled again with light sounds. Warm. Comfortable. As if distance didn’t really exist.

But slowly— that energy began to settle. Laughter turned into light conversation. Conversation turned into pauses. Pauses turned into a more relaxed silence.

Jungkook eventually leaned back more comfortably, no longer talking much. Jimin also grew quieter, only occasionally responding.

Meanwhile, Namjoon— stayed where he was. Still looking at you.

And among all the sounds that were slowly fading— what was felt the most was… that closeness.

As if tonight wasn’t just about being sick. But about being together. About small habits that formed without realizing it.

About how—even when far apart—  you still found a way to feel close. And without anyone really announcing it— the atmosphere began to shift again.

Slower. More intimate. More… enclosed.

As if the space was slowly making room for only two people. And it was just a matter of time— before the others really left.

 ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The room was still filled with the remnants of Jungkook and Jimin’s quiet laughter—clearly, they had no intention of actually “leaving peacefully.”

Namjoon let out a long sigh, deeper this time, as if trying to gather whatever patience he had left. “Alright, go back to your own rooms,” he finally said. His tone was firmer, though still slightly hoarse from exhaustion. “It’s late. We still have a schedule tomorrow.”

Jimin glanced at Jungkook, then back at Namjoon with a suspiciously mischievous smile. “Wow… suddenly acting like a leader again.”

Jungkook nudged Jimin’s leg, holding back a laugh. “Wasn’t it you who said, ‘my stomach hurts so bad…’ earlier?”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes, but this time he didn’t immediately respond. He just glanced at them briefly, then turned back to the screen.

Back to you. And that alone was enough for Jimin and Jungkook to exchange a look, like they had just found the answer they were looking for.

“Ooooh…” Jimin dragged out the sound, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “So you want some alone time now.”

“Quality time,” Jungkook added casually, one hand still on his stomach, though his grin was clearly teasing.

Namjoon stayed silent. No denial. No defense. He simply took a slow breath, then said shortly— “Out.”

Jimin burst out laughing. “Not even denying it anymore.”

“Alright, we get it,” Jungkook stood up, pretending to sigh dramatically. “Wouldn’t want to disturb someone who’s missing someone.”

“Missing her a lot, actually,” Jimin added.

Namjoon closed his eyes for a second. “Get out. Now.”

But there was a faint blush on his ears—and that only made them more satisfied. Before leaving, Jungkook glanced back at the camera, a small smile on his lips. “Good night, Y/N noona… take care of Namjoon hyung.”

“JUNGKOOK.”

The door finally closed.

Click.

Silence. Real silence. No more laughter, no more interruptions, no one else in the frame. Just you… and him.

Namjoon immediately let his body drop slightly onto the bed, like he could finally release all the energy he’d been holding in. His breath came out slowly.

 “Finally…” he murmured, almost like a whisper.

You smiled softly. “Tired?”

“Yeah… but that’s not it.”

He adjusted his phone, positioning it more steadily beside the pillow. Now his face was closer, clearer. The room light made his eyes look deeper, warmer.

“I can finally be alone with you,” he said quietly.

You softened too. You had been “together” all this time, but now it felt different. Closer. Calmer. More… personal.

 “I was with you the whole time,” you replied gently.

“But not alone,” he answered quickly.

Silence. And this time, it felt full.

Namjoon looked at you for a long moment. His gaze moved slowly, taking in every detail of your face, as if trying to memorize it again—or maybe just easing his longing in his own way.

“You just showered, didn’t you…” he said softly.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Your hair’s still a little wet.”

You smiled. “You really notice everything.”

“I always notice you.”

The answer came quickly. Honestly. And it left you speechless.

Namjoon lifted his hand slightly, his fingers almost reaching toward the screen. He stopped just inches away, then smiled faintly, as if realizing it was pointless.

“If I were there…” he murmured, “…I’d tell you to dry your hair first.”

“You can do it for me later,” you replied reflexively.

He chuckled softly. “Yeah… I’ll do it.”

Silence again. But softer. Warmer. Namjoon shifted slightly, then gently patted the empty space beside him on the bed.

“I made a spot for you,” he said quietly.

You looked at the screen and let out a small laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. “You…”

“If you were here…” he continued, his voice dropping, “…I wouldn’t let go of you.”

Your heart started beating faster. His gaze didn’t waver. Always on you. You eventually lay down too, positioning your phone so your faces aligned. Now it looked like you were lying side by side—only separated by a screen.

“It’s late, Namjoon…” you said softly. “You need to rest.”

He shook his head slightly. “I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“You’re sick.”

“I miss you more.”

The answer came instantly. Without hesitation. And it left you with nothing to argue back.

Silence again. Deeper this time. Closer.

Namjoon’s breathing was soft through the speaker, steadying, but his eyes stayed open—still fixed on you.

“Stay with me…” he said quietly. “Until I fall asleep.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He seemed more relaxed after that. His hand, which had been resting on his stomach earlier, was calmer now on top of the blanket. His shoulders dropped, his body no longer tense.

But his eyes—still never leaving you. As if you were the only thing he needed to truly feel okay.

“Y/N…” he called again.

“Hmm?”

“If you were here…” he paused, then smiled faintly, “…I would’ve been holding you this whole time.”

You smiled softly. “Let’s just do it virtually for now.”

He laughed quietly. “Not enough.”

“You’re the one far away.”

“Yeah… that’s why I’m complaining.”

You held back a laugh. Seconds passed without words. Just gazes. Just quiet breathing. Just a feeling… that didn’t need to be explained.

Namjoon pulled the blanket up a little higher, then slowly closed his eyes. But before they fully shut, he opened them again, making sure you were still there.

“You won’t disappear, right?” he asked softly.

You shook your head, a warm smile forming unconsciously. “No.”

He nodded.

A few minutes passed in silence. His breathing grew heavier—but not from pain anymore. Something had changed—the way he looked at you, the way he stayed awake even though his body was clearly exhausted.

His eyes opened again. “Y/N…” his voice was lower now.

You responded gently. “Hmm?”

He hesitated. As if unsure, but also… unwilling to hold back. “I…” he took a slow breath, “…I still can’t sleep.”

You watched him closely. The slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes stayed locked on you, the way he bit his lip briefly before continuing.

“I… miss you so much,” he whispered.

Not just ordinary longing. You could feel it.

Silence.

You didn’t respond with words right away. But your gaze softened—deeper, warmer—giving him space to be honest.

Namjoon shifted slightly on the bed. The blanket moved softly, his hands no longer still.

“I know we’re holding back…” he gave a faint, slightly embarrassed smile, “…but I also…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t need to.

You understood. And instead of pulling away—you stayed. Still looking at him the same way. Gentle. Accepting. Without judgment.

“It’s okay…” you said softly, as you slowly unbuttoned the top three buttons of your pajama. Just revealing a little of your chest—not everything.

Just that. But it was enough.

Namjoon’s breathing changed slightly. Deeper. Heavier. But also… more relieved. His eyes didn’t leave you, as if you were really there with him. As if distance didn’t matter. As if it was just the two of you in the world.

“Open one more, baby,” Namjoon whispered.

You bit your lower lip, wondering whether this was right or not. But this was Namjoon—the person you trusted most in your life. And he had given you everything. Your life had become better and more comfortable since he was in it. So slowly, you opened another button… then the one below it… and another… until your pajama was fully unbuttoned.

Your nipples were clearly visible on the screen, and Namjoon watched you without blinking. He occasionally licked his upper lip, his eyes already heavy and half-lidded.

You didn’t say much. Just stayed with him. Sometimes smiling softly. Sometimes calling his name quietly. Sometimes just… silent. But present. And that—was more than enough for him.

You couldn’t see his hands, but you knew what he was doing. Because they kept moving. Faster and faster.

After a while, his shoulders slowly dropped. His breathing steadied again. The tension in his face disappeared, replaced with clear relief. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, looking at you with a much calmer expression. 

“Thank you, baby…” he whispered.

You smiled warmly. “Always.”

Namjoon looked… lighter now. Not just because the pain had eased—but because he wasn’t alone. Even from afar. Even through a screen. You were still there. For him. Always.

He finally lay down properly, this time without restlessness. His eyes slowly closed, his breathing becoming steady again. Before he fully fell asleep, he murmured softly—

“Love you…”

You looked at the screen, your voice almost a whisper.

“Love you too…”

And the call stayed on. A witness— that even across distance… you still found a way to take care of each other. To fill each other. To belong to each other.

You didn’t end the call. You stayed there. Keeping him company. Until he truly fell asleep.

And that night—even though you were separated by thousands of kilometers— you still felt… close. Very close.

he should have known better. you loved him, you were completely his, you had stood in front of dozens of people and promised it. still, that irrational burn in his stomach rose fast, curling into his throat until it threatened to spill. his lips pressed into a firm line as he shoved his hands into his pockets, broad shoulders squared in a stance that screamed 'don’t test me'.

your coworker said something else, and you laughed again, head tilted back slightly. jaehyun’s eyes tracked the way your throat moved when you did, the way your cheeks flushed from genuine amusement.

that should’ve been his.

the click of his polished shoes against the office tiles made you turn your head, and the moment you spotted him — your whole expression shifted. your smile widened, your eyes softened, like every part of you was suddenly tuned to him and him alone.

“hyunie!” you called warmly, voice carrying across the small office. “you’re here already.”

the coworker blinked, turning to look at jaehyun.

“ah, this must be the famous husband. i heard a lot about you.”

jaehyun moved closer, each step steady but heavy. his gaze flicked briefly to your coworker’s face, then dropped — too close. his arm brushed against yours when he reached your desk, and only then did his lips twitch into something resembling a smile.

“yeah,” he said evenly, his voice low but unmistakably firm. “i’m the husband.”

your coworker’s brows rose at his tone, then he chuckled lightly, raising his hands as though to surrender. “got it. loud and clear. well—enjoy your lunch, you two.”

he retreated quickly, muttering something about an email he had to finish.

you then fully turned to jaehyun, brows lifting. his face was unreadable, though his eyes were fixed on you, scanning every detail like he needed proof you were really his. his hand slid to your lower back, warm and solid, guiding you toward the door with a touch that was a little firmer than necessary.

as you walked together, you could feel the heat radiating off him, his tall frame crowding your space like he refused to let even the hallway air touch you.

“hyunie,” you teased softly, tilting your head up at him slightly. “that was… a little intense.”

jaehyun didn’t answer right away. his jaw was tight, and his thumb moved in slow, unconscious circles against your hip, holding you closer than usual. his brown dark eyes flicked down to meet yours finally, and the storm in them made your chest tighten.

“he made you laugh,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl but with a thread of vulnerability woven in. “like… like the way you laugh with me. i don’t like that.”

your lips parted in surprise. “baby… he’s married. you know that, right?”

jaehyun leaned down, closing the distance until his forehead brushed yours. his voice dropped, a little husky, almost a whisper only you could hear.

“i don’t care,” he said, his pout barely restrained. “that laugh is mine. that smile—” his fingers pressed firmer into your hip, “—is mine. you are mine.”

you felt your breath catch as his warm lips brushed yours in the middle of the hallway — not rushed, not sloppy, but slow and deliberate. he tilted his head, deepening it just enough to make his point very, very clear. his hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek as he kissed you like the entire office could disappear and he wouldn’t even care to notice.

when he finally pulled back, his brown eyes were still locked on yours, chest heaving slightly.

“tell me i’m right,” he whispered.

you were still catching your breath, lips tingling, heat rising in your neck. god, he was ridiculous. ridiculous and so hot you could barely think.

you chuckled softly, brushing your thumb against his lower lip. “you’re right, hyunie. i’m yours. only yours.”

his lips curved then, the first real smile since he walked in, but his grip on your waist didn’t ease — if anything, it tightened, as though he never intended to let you go.

and, in all honestly, you didn’t want him to.

you never wanted him to.

jaehyun kept you tucked firmly against his side as he led you out of the building. it wasn’t like he was dragging you — jaehyun would never be rough with you — but the weight of his palm on your waist was unmistakable. it was claiming and protective. he held you in a way that left no room for doubt about who you belonged to, his fingers spread wide and pressing warm through the thin fabric of your shirt.

the moment the office door clicked shut behind you both, you immediately felt his chest expand with a deep inhale, like he could finally breathe again now that you were out of sight.

still, his silence spoke louder than anything else.

“hyunie,” you murmured, tilting your head as you walked across the parking lot together. “you’re awfully quiet.”

he didn’t look down this time, his jaw set as he guided you to his car. “mmh.”

just that. a clipped sound, tight in his throat. his hand squeezed your side briefly, thumb digging in for a second before easing. you recognized that tic — it was the physical version of his pout.

by the time you reached the car, you were already suppressing a smile.

he opened the passenger door for you, steady and courteous as always, but his eyes lingered, scanning your expression like he was making sure you hadn’t given away something important to someone else. only once you were settled in did he round to the driver’s side, sliding in with a tension that made the air feel heavier.

the car was warm, faintly scented with the cologne you’d picked out for him weeks ago. the engine didn’t start. instead, jaehyun turned in his seat immediately, his large hand reaching for your thigh without hesitation.

the heat of his palm sank through your slacks, grounding and possessive all at once. he didn’t move it right away — he just held you there, thumb resting against the curve of your leg, his dark eyes locked on yours.

you raised a brow. “you’re not going to drive?”

“no,” his voice was really soft, but there was still an edge underneath, an unmistaken stubbornness. “not until you tell me again.”

your lips quirked. “tell you what?”

“that you’re mine.”

his fingers flexed on your thigh, the muscles in his forearm tensing. he leaned closer, every inch of him radiating heat, until the scent of his cologne and the faint warmth of his breath wrapped around you.

“that no one else gets your smile. or your laugh. or…”

his hand slid a fraction higher, squeezing, enough to make your pulse jump.

“…anything.”

the jealousy in his tone was sharp, but his eyes — dear lord, his beautiful eyes — were way more than that. dark brown and glossy with something rawer. not anger. but fear. that tender, ridiculous fear of losing you, even though he had no reason to.

your chest softened immediately. married or not, he was still your puppy, desperate for reassurance.

so, you chuckled softly, brushing your knuckles against jaehyun’s jaw.

“you’re so dramatic. we literally have matching rings,” you lifted your hand slightly, wiggling your left ring finger, the gold band catching the light. “pretty sure that’s proof enough.”

“not enough,” he said instantly. his eyes dropped to your ring, then back to your eyes, intense and unyielding. “say it again. please.”

the word cracked his voice ever so slightly. that single crack undid you.

you reached up, sliding your fingers into his hair. the strands were soft, silky between your fingertips, and the second you tugged lightly, he leaned in like a man starved. his nose brushed yours, and you whispered, slow and steady, letting every word sink into him :

“i’m yours, jaehyun. only yours. always.”

his breath hitched. his lips parted, eyes fluttering shut like he was savoring each syllable. then he kissed you.

it wasn’t a tentative kiss — hell, there was no hesitation in it. his mouth was on yours with a hunger he hadn’t been able to show in the office, lips moving firmly against yours as though he could press the words into your skin and bone. his hand on your thigh tightened, dragging slightly higher, thumb pressing into the heat of your muscle through the fabric.

you gasped softly into the kiss, and that was all he needed. he tilted his head, deepening it, sliding his other hand up to cup your jaw. his thumb stroked along your cheekbone as if to ground you, but the kiss itself was anything but calm — it was consuming.

every breath was his, every sound muffled against the press of his lips. he kissed you like he was trying to drown out the memory of you smiling at someone else, like he needed to overwrite it with something stronger, louder, and undeniable.

when jaehyun finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, your chest heaving. his forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged, but his hand still clamped on your thigh, thumb now drawing restless circles as though he couldn’t stop touching you.

“i swear,” he murmured, voice low and rough, vibrating against your lips, “if anyone ever tries to take your attention again, i’ll—”

his words broke off, the frustration spilling into a whine as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. his lips brushed your skin, hot and damp, moving slowly toward the spot just beneath your jaw.

“i can’t stand it. you’re mine. mine, mine, mine…”

the repetition was muffled against your throat, more a plea than a threat. his teeth grazed you, just barely, and you felt the shiver race down your spine.

you closed your eyes, fingers sliding under his collar to stroke the warm skin at the nape of his neck. his muscles were taut, strung tight under your touch, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as your pulse raced.

“god, hyunie,” you breathed, lips curling. “you’re so hot when you’re like this. you know that?”

a low groan rumbled from him, muffled against your skin. he nipped lightly at your neck, then pulled back just enough to look at you again. his eyes were darker now, his lips parted and swollen from the kiss, his cheeks faintly flushed.

he was every shade of hot and cute at once, and you felt your stomach twist with warmth.

“say it again,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

and you knew he wouldn’t stop asking — not until every last inch of him was sure you belonged to him alone.

Kyungsoo loved the way your eyes twinkled when you smiled, and the way you reflexively looked away whenever a laugh took over. He watched you from a distance, a soft smile tugging at his lips, entirely unaware that you had already caught his gaze.

“Soo!” you shouted over the thrumming bass. “C’mere.”

The trance snapped. Kyungsoo began to weave through the dense crowd, but the sight ahead brought him to a dead halt. A tall man stood by your side, his arm coiled possessively around your waist as he leaned in to murmur something against your ear. Even though the music was loud, he noticed it—that stranger was clearly flirting with you.

Kyungsoo cursed himself. He only stepped away to grab drinks, never expecting someone to move in so quickly—certainly not someone who could make you laugh that specific way, or make you scrunch your nose in the expression he adored. A surge of protectiveness flared in his chest, a fleeting urge to swing at the stranger, maybe from jealousy, but he suppressed it. After all… he was just your best friend—and the one who fucked with you when you feel needy.

The next thing he saw was the two of you making out right in front of him. Sehun—as you called him—made Kyungsoo feel nauseously jealous.

He didn’t bother saying goodbye. He simply set the glasses down on the nearest table and vanished, unable to endure the torture for another second.

Kyungsoo groaned. The persistent knocks at the front door made him wake up in the middle of the night, disoriented from the drinks he had drunk before going to bed. He stumbled out of his room to answer it, just wearing his pair of boxers. You were there on the threshold—giggling, tipsy, and clinging to him the moment the door swung open.

He hated his own weakness, but god… he really loved the way you sought out his lips. He was obsessed with the way your long nails scraped across his torso.

“Soo,” you whimpered. “Please, hmm?”

“Fuck.” More at his own lack of resolve.

Your clothes ended up on the floor, in a trail from the living room to his bedroom. Leading the way, his mouth was everywhere—along your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone—claiming every inch with a desperate precision that drove you crazy.

When you were in bed, there was no slow path. Kyungsoo was starving for you, and you certainly loved the way he sucked the sensitivity of your skin. He wanted to leave marks, to brand you so deeply that no one else would dare look at you the way he had.

He knew what was coming—the way you rode with a relentless rhythm that made his head hit the headboard. You moved with a desperate urgency, squeezing him so tightly that he had both hands buried in your hips. Kyungsoo’s pulse thundered in his ears as he pulled you beneath him, his fingers tangling in your hair with a possessive grip he usually tried to hide, kissing you messily.

When he finally filled you with his hot seed, the sensation made your back arch and

dug your nails into his shoulders. Moaning, your nails scratched sharp lines down his torso, but he only pushed deeper, losing himself, groaning.

You shattered, your body trembling under the weight of an orgasm that left you breathless, you didn’t let him go. Your eyes found him, hungrily, panting against his lips, asking for more.

Kyungsoo was weak for you, always had been. He couldn’t resist those eyes that begged for him; he couldn’t say no to you.

“He was such an asshole,” you murmured, pulling his forearm over your waist, tucking yourself against the curve of his body. “Can’t you believe he didn’t even wanna pay for the drinks?”

Kyungsoo feigned exhaustion, letting out a long yawn to mask the way his heart felt every time you talked about someone else. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing you in. “Is that so?”

“He didn’t even pay for his own,” you huffed.

He had to bite his tongue to prevent a laugh from escaping. At least, that tall man won’t be a threat anymore. “Wow, that’s… pathetic.”

“Right?” You shifted slowly, turning in the circle of his arms until you were facing him. You pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw, your lips curving into a soft, secret smile when he finally opened his eyes. “At least I’m exactly where I wanted to be.”

Kyungsoo felt his heart skip a beat. “H-here?”

You nodded. “I like you, Soo.”

The world seemed to stop for him. Kyungsoo hovered on the question, wondering if he was dreaming or… if the drinks were playing tricks on him. But before he could find his voice, you giggled softly and rolled away, falling into a heavy sleep seconds later—the sheer exhaustion of two rounds finally claiming you.

Sleep was almost impossible for Kyungsoo. He lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling as your steady breathing filled his room. You had never said that before. Had he misinterpreted the weight behind them? Did you like him as a friend or as… something more? He sighed, pulling you back into his arms as if your dreams might hold the answers he was too afraid to ask. Eventually, he drifted off, clinging to the desperate hope that you might repeat those words in the morning.

When he finally woke, the bed felt so cold it was hard to believe anyone else had been there at all. Frustration surged through him as he shifted. It wasn’t the first time you had slipped away before sunrise, and it certainly wasn't the first time you had left a gift on his nightstand.

He picked up the small scrap of paper. “Forgot to tell you: you were amazing last night. I’ll call you later, Soo! ILY <3.” A vibrant mark of your lipstick adorned the corner.

Kyungsoo traced the red tint with his thumb, eventually pressing the paper against his own lips. He closed his eyes, let out a shaky breath, and felt it—that familiar, painful stir of desire as the memory of your touch rushed back to haunt him. He was hard on just the thought of you.

Chanyeol’s living room was thick with the scent of beer and cheap snacks. Kyungsoo sat slumped on the sofa, half-listening to the overlapping stories of his friends, his mind drifting back.

“I’m telling you, Kyungsoo, you’re too tense,” Baekhyun laughed, waving a half-empty bottle in the air. “Drink up.”

Kyungsoo took a sip of his own beer and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Suddenly, a rhythmic vibration rattled the wooden kitchen table behind them. A screen lit up, cutting through the dim light of the apartment.

“Hey, your phone is—,” Jongin noted, leaning over from the counter to squint at the display. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face. “Oh. It’s her.”

The change in Kyungsoo was instantaneous. He practically lunged from the sofa, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

“C’mon, man!” Chanyeol intercepted him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do it. We talked about this, remember? You said you were gonna give it a rest. Let her wonder where you are for once.”

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo muttered, his eyes locked on the glowing device.

“Hey, he’s right,” Baekhyun added. “She only calls when she’s lonely. Stay here, man. Finish the drink. Call her later.”

The phone stopped ringing. For a heartbeat, silence reclaimed the room. Then, it started again. Kyungsoo didn’t hesitate this time. He shoved past Chanyeol’s arm and snatched the phone off the table, his thumb sliding across the glass before his friends could utter another warning.

He stepped into the quiet of the hallway, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he breathed, his voice betraying every ounce of the resolve he had tried to build.

“Soo…” Your voice came through the line, low and honey-thick with need. He could practically hear the pout in your lips. “I’m in bed. It’s so empty. Please… I need you here, mh? Shit—I miss you.”

The second he heard you moan, the beer, the warnings, the frustration, the lecture from his friends—it all evaporated, replaced by a singular, driving heat.

“Where are you?” he asked, already reaching for his jacket hanging by the door.

“My place,” you whimpered. The sound sent a jolt of electricity straight to his gut. “Soo...”

“I’m coming,” he confirmed. “Don’t… move. I’ll be there in ten.”

Kyungsoo didn’t even look back at the living room. He heard Jongin sigh and Chanyeol call out his name in protest, but Kyungsoo was already out the door, the cool night air hitting his face as he hailed the first taxi. He knew they were right—he knew he was being weak—but the thought of you waiting, calling for him, wanting him, was the only thing that mattered.

He was going to treat you exactly the way you asked, even if it broke him.

“I’m busy, Soo.” The background noise suggested a loud street.

“I just wanted to see if… if you were free for dinner. Just... food?”

“Dinner? Like a date?” A small, sharp laugh came through the speaker. “Soo, I’ve got plans tonight. Maybe I’ll call you later… y’know, if I’m bored, okay? Bye."

The line went dead before he could even breathe out a response.

Kyungsoo groaned, dropping his head into his hands. He was thinking too much—he knew he was. He was losing his mind, trapped in the orbit of someone who only wanted him when the sun was down and the pride was tucked away.

“Hey, let’s grab another round in the kitchen!” Chanyeol urged, his voice a little too loud, a little too forced.

“Another round?” Kyungsoo frowned, sensing the deflection. “I told you I don’t wanna drink tonight.” He turned his head, his gaze cutting through the crowded room until it landed on the one person he had been trying to erase from his mind.

You weren’t alone. You were tucked into a corner with a man he didn’t recognize, your bodies nearly fused together. You were laughing, that melodic sound he loved. He watched, paralyzed, as the man’s hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you even closer.

Kyungsoo felt sick. “I need some air,” he simply said before leading to the terrace.

The night was cold, but it did nothing to cool the fire in his blood. He fumbled a cigarette from his pocket, and the flame of his lighter was unsteadily in the breeze. Kyungsoo took one drag, hoping the nicotine would act as a bandage for the raw ache in his chest, but he couldn’t even bring himself to smoke. He just leaned against the railing, staring at the rest of the city.

Kyungsoo was so lost in his own head that he didn’t hear the door slide down. He didn’t even notice a presence until a pair of slender fingers reached out and snatched the cigarette right from his hand.

Kyungsoo blinked, his heart skipping a beat as he looked up. It wasn’t a hallucination. You were standing there, looking ethereal in the moonlight, leaning your back against the rail as you took a slow drag of his cigarette. You exhaled a plume of smoke, your lips curving into that smile, those irresistible eyes locking onto his.

“What’s weighing on that head tonight, Soo?”

Kyungsoo let out a long, shaky breath, staring out at the city lights. “I’m just tired,” he lied. “I’ve had a long week. That’s all.”

You stepped closer, the scent of your perfume mingling with the fading smoke of the cigarette. Your warm fingers grazed his jaw before settling against his cold cheek. “You’re a bad liar.” Your thumb traced the line of his lower lip. “You haven’t drunk at all. And looking at this cigarette won’t answer anything. Talk to me, Soo.”

How do you know he didn’t drink tonight? Again, you were messing with his head again.

Kyungsoo flinched by your touch, stepping back until his spine hit the cold stone of the terrace wall. He needed distance; he needed to breathe without your scent filling his lungs. “Don’t.” His voice cracked. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t act like you care what’s in my head when you spent the last hour glued to someone else.”

You tilted your head, a smile ghosted on your lips with an unreadable expression, but you didn’t back away. “Is that so? You’re jealous?”

“Jealous?” Kyungsoo let out a bitter laugh that felt more like a sob. “Maybe I am. But I’m also exhausted from the way you run to me when you’re lonely and then treat me like a stranger. I’m exhausted from waiting for a call that only comes when you’re bored or needy. I’m—” He looked at you then, his eyes raw with pain he couldn’t hide anymore. “I’m tired.”

“Soo…”

Kyungsoo held his breath, terrified of what you would say next, but even more terrified that you wouldn’t say anything at all.

You let the half-finished cigarette slip from your fingers before you lunged forward, kissing him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him so tightly that the air left his lungs. Kyungsoo stood frozen, his hands hovering mid-air, and then… he crumbled.

Your fingers buried deep into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Kyungsoo’s hands settled firmly on your waist, his grip possessive yet trembling slightly, as if he were afraid that if he squeezed too hard, he’d wake up from a dream.

“My place, hmm?” he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, velvet register that always made your pulse skip.

A slow, genuine smile spread across your face. “I thought you’d never ask, Soo.”

Kyungsoo’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his breath hitching every time your lips brushed his jaw. The tension increased to the limit when you were practically crawling toward him. Kyungsoo barely managed to park his car and killed the engine in a dark alley.

You didn’t make it to his place.

He pulled you across the console. You scrambled over to sit straddled atop him in the cramped driver’s seat. The space was tight, but it only made the friction much better. You began moving your hips in a slow, torturous grind back and forth against his thigh, your hands fumbling with the button of his pants.

Kyungsoo let out a low groan as he felt your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his underwear. His own hands were gripping your waist before sliding down to catch your ass cheeks.

You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, jerking him off. “Soo,” you moaned against his mouth, yet moved your hips over his thigh. “I need you. Shit—I’m yours.”

Kyungsoo felt his own body betray him; he was about to cum right there in the front seat. “Fuck—I’ve wanted this so much.”

The make-out session was messy—teeth clashing and tongues tangling. The windows already began to fog from the heat radiating off your bodies. Kyungsoo’s breath hitched as his warm palms slid up the silk of your dress, his fingers bunching the fabric around your hips. When his skin met yours, and he realized there was no lace in the way, he let out a low, shaky groan.

“You’re not wearing anything,” he rasped, his voice dropping into a rough register. “Did you know—” he had trouble breathing properly, “I-I was gonna… shit—fuck you here tonight?”

You let out a half-giggle, half-chuckle and leaned in to nip at this earlobe. “Maybe,” you breathed near his ear. “I wanted to feel you against me all night, Soo.”

Your mouth pressed an open-mouth kiss against the curve of his neck, sucking directly, giving him a fresh mark as your thumb circled the tip of his cock. “Without anything in the way.”

“Fuck—” he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut as he gripped your ass cheeks even tighter, pulling you down hard against his lap.

Kyungsoo ended up cumming through your finger. The hot sticky sperm made every stroke messier, sloppier. His head fell back against the headrest, his thighs were trembling, his whole body tensed, groaning in an intense pleasure he only felt when he was with you.

A soft chuckle left your mouth. “Keep going, Soo.” Your tongue traced a path from his neck to his jaw, and then to his lower lip, which you sucked into your mouth. “Lemme treat you right. Like you deserve.”

“Baby—”

“Shhh.” You moved your hips in a slow, torturous grind that made him hiss. He could feel the warmth of your cunt against his thigh, almost dripping. “Shit… should I cum too?”

You slowly slid your sticky, cum-coated fingers into your own mouth, cleaning them with an eye-locking gaze, letting them pull out with a pop sound. Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open, a choked sound dying in his throat. He looked stunned, his arousal surging back immediately. He reached down, gathering the slick heat from his length onto his fingers, trembling. He pressed them against your lips, sliding them into your mouth with a desperate urgency.

“Mmh…” you hummed in response, soaking wet between your folds.

“Fuck—you’re so bad for me.”

You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his, curving your lips after pulling his fingers out. “Am I?”

“That’s why I like you so much.”

Kyungsoo finally guided you down. When he thrusted into you, the slick, messy friction of his own spent cock and the wetness of your cunt acting as a lubricant, he let out a sound that was less of a moan and more of a pained, desperate growl, making you moan too.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo groaned, his hands flying to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. “You feel so tight—so fucking perfect.”

He was incredibly hard again, his cock pulsing inside you as your tight, wet walls clenched desperately around him.

You threw your head back, your nails clawing into his shoulders as a loud, uninhibited moan ripped from your chest. “Ah—Soo!”

“F-fuck,” he choked out, his hands flying to your bare waist, his thumbs digging ruthlessly into your hips to anchor you.

Kyungsoo didn’t waste a second. He arched his back and thrust upward, hard and unapologetic, his hips slamming into yours with a wet, heavy slap. He picked up a frantic, punishing rhythm, his hips hitting yours so hard the car rocked on its suspension.

“Is that what you wanted? For me to fuck you raw like this?”

“Yes!” you whimpered, your teeth sinking into his lower lip, dragging against the sensitive skin until you tasted a hint of blood. You rolled your hips back, meeting every heavy, upward strike with a desperate grind of your own. “Oh—harder, Soo!”

His hands slid down from your waist, his fingers digging deep into the soft flesh of your bare ass cheeks, squeezing and massaging the skin like stress balls as he drove into you. “No one else gets to hear you make these noises, huh? You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours—fuck!” you cried out, your voice breaking as the heavy, wet friction pushed you right to the jagged edge. You arched your spine, your internal muscles clenching around him so violently it nearly derailed his rhythm. “Soo, please—right there!”

Kyungsoo let out a low, primal roar, his veins popping in his neck as he gave in to the chase. He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming fast, messy, and relentlessly deep, burying himself to the hilt over and over again.

You screamed his name into his neck, your body locking up as a blinding, toe-curling orgasm ripped through you. Kyungsoo’s hips bucked one final time upward as he came violently inside you, his loud, guttural shout filling the fogged-up car. He pulled you flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your sweat-slicked back, both of you completely breathless, sticky, and ruined in the dark.

That night, Kyungsoo knew he could never escape from you.

He didn’t want to, though.

“You’re a gym fanatic?” You questioned the guy above you, connecting his body with his possible hobbies. He looked way beyond ripped for a person who just eventually went to the gym if the muscles on his arms, stomach and pecks were of any indicator. 

He let a little chuckle out, eyes running down onto your palm over his skin.

"No, not really. Though I am going to the gym regularly." 

"It's paying off." You had no intention of keeping your praise from him. 

"I know." Jaehyun smirked, leaning back in to kiss your mouth. His lips moved feverishly against yours, keeping the pace of your whole encounter hungry and quick.

He pressed you further into his mattress and only then you'd remembered you wanted to get him naked. You finished the task this time and threw his black tee somewhere in the room. The man above you leaned back in and you felt a touch of cold metal against your chest, making you shiver all over; his tongue licked into your jaw giving the shivers an additional boost.

It was his necklace. 

You sneaked a hand between your bodies and before he could feel the touch, pushed him back off you with another hand. “Is that a dog tag?” You asked blindly. 

As he moved back a little, a lonely beam of light from the lamp proved you right. He silently glanced at you holding the necklace and back into your eyes. 

You turned the silver metal in your hands to see it in the dimmed light. “Jeong Yuno” you read out loud. “I thought you said your name was-.”

“It is. Both are correct.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a long story.” You knew what he meant by that. It’s a long story, and you’re a quick fuck, drop it. 

“Fuck long stories.” You chuckled and let the necklace go, leaving it to dangle between your chests. “You’re not eighteen, right?” You pushed him back a little once more once the thought struck you. 

It’s not like he was serving in the military right after school and somehow stumbled upon you at a club, right? That would’ve been an epic fail you couldn’t recover from. 

"Military is my main occupation; I'm not a conscript." Jaehyun let a chuckle past his lips and pressed them into your jawbone again. 

"Really?" You tried to force him back once more, but he knew already you'd do that and caught your fingers in his, forcing your arm back on the bed.

"I am a ROK Army Special Forces captain.”

“Really?” You raised a skeptical eye at him. 

“What? Did you think military people don’t do one night stands?”

“No, that’s just so hot.” You gripped his wrist, making it move down your body in your hold. He’d understood your action and patted you through your panties, making your eyes roll into your head. “You’re what-. Serving the country during the day and going to clubs for a fuck at night? Can I see your uniform after?” 

“Depends on your behaviour.” You gasped, feeling Jaehyun’s fingers run under the cotton, sneaking right into your heat. “Looks like you’re a good girl, huh.”

“Want to give me your phone number?” Jaehyun asked with much nonchalance, like he’d asked you only to ask. You swallowed a scoff. 

“Do you need it?” You weren’t ashamed to act hard to get. 

“I mean-, sex was good so why would I not?” He said with much passion and you thought he was done with his sentence, but he’d added in a much weaker manner. “Not want to find out what kind of person stands behind it?”

“Oh.” You weren’t even trying to hide the smirk or the teasing. “Is that what you do?”

“What do I do?” He scratched his brow, confused, watching you pick up your dress shirt from the chair. 

"You called me a one-night stand about five times last night and now you want a phone number." You gave him a look he didn't like and sighed. 

"Okay, let's never see each other again, okay?”

“That’s better.” You nodded. “See you never, Jaehyun.” You chuckled, actually taking time to walk over the bed to stand before him. “Thanks for serving our country.” You leaned in to peck his cheek and walked out of his apartment. 

It wasn't much of a surprise when a person groped your upper arm from the back; men, especially intoxicated men, felt entitled to a woman's body when they were at a club. You let the eye roll surpass you before you turned around and with all the sweetness you could muster planned to tell the man to fuck off.

It was always better to talk to them like to babies; intoxicated men were much worse than kids.

You tried to shook the grip off you as you turned around, eyes half closed with all the light that suddenly burned your eyes from behind the man.

“You need to be more gentle if you want a lady to dance with you.” Whatever cocky sweetness you had in store for this stupid creature died down in your throat by a third word and all you were left with was a whisper. 

The reason behind that was your eyes getting used to the light. 

"I could tell it was you from the back." You looked at him confused, lowering your gaze down to the man's chest; R.O.K.A. fleece zip-jacket covering his arms from you. 

You were so shocked to see him like this, wearing some sort of his uniform; you couldn't say a word.

You reached your fingers out to the zip and pushed it down to his abdomen to see if he was wearing a matching black shirt.

He was.

You pushed the jacket to the side and saw the same four letters adorn his chest. You could even see the chain of his dog tag peek around his neck. 

"Your hair seems longer than two months ago?" He still held his grip on your arm, so you felt it's only fair if you'd run your fingers through his fringe. "Why are you here wearing this?”

“I’m on leave and I got back to the city like an hour ago.”

“Okay?” You stared blankly. He wanted another night with you, didn’t he?

“I was looking for you.” You raised your brows up. 

Oh, he definitely did. 

It’s been two whole months since you saw each other. For not longer than four hours. You literally flirted with him at the club for fifteen minutes and in another forty you were kissing each other at the entrance of his apartment. You woke up at seven AM because an alarm went off on his phone and left not ten minutes after. You had issues remembering his name, though you had a perfect memory of him inside of you and his lips all over your skin. 

You would've lied if you'd said you couldn't remember his striking face, or his body, or the way he kissed your mouth with so much fervour; you remembered all of it and maybe even thought of him a couple of times as a good memory, but what you couldn't remember was his name. What was it?

He didn’t lie about his occupation though, it seems. You were glad to know he was honest. 

“For two months?” If he needed you for some reason, he could’ve found you here pretty much any day of the week the club was open. “You’re lying-.”

“No, tonight. I was looking for you here tonight and I found you.” He leaned in for you to hear him better as the DJ changed the song. 

"You did." You chuckled, still confused at this sudden wish to see you. "Why now?" You let your eyes stare a little too long at his features. You were even contemplating in your head by now if he'd looked better with shorter or longer hair. Probably either; a face like that hardly could look bad with any hairdo.

If you had a drink you would’ve already flirted with him by now, probably even tried to kiss him. But you were stone cold sober and blinked at him like you had no idea what he wanted. 

Damn. 

"You didn't give me your phone number and I couldn't come find you before; now I have the chance, and I'm here to tell you I've been thinking about you this whole time." You let the furrow of your brow, that you didn't even realise you had, go, surprised with the admittance. 

That was… cute. You remembered how you brushed him off in the morning after, and it seemed… to work, huh? Now he was here to beg for more time together.

“I’m not sure I can return the sentiment.” You looked at him apologetically. He was cute and all, but there was no point in lying. You didn’t even remember his name.

“I know, I’d be surprised if you come home with me tonight.” You couldn’t understand if he was asking or saying it as a given. He finally paid attention to his fingers gripping your arm and let you go; you took it as an opportunity to step closer to him. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the alcohol that boosted your flirtatiousness last time. 

Maybe it was him. 

“You’re cute, but I don’t remember what your name is.” You cupped his cheek, getting on your tiptoes to get in front of his face.

“You can read it on my dog tag as you undress me?” He gave you a cocky brow and you liked that answer. It felt like he deserved a kiss, so you quickly pecked his mouth and went back to your height. 

“I will. Wait for me here, Mr. Stranger and we can go.” He nodded and you took off in the direction of the bar, raising your hand up to attract the bartender’s attention. 

The guy quickly crossed the space to you and leaned in to listen. 

“Woo, I’m leaving early today.” He nodded. “Make sure things don’t turn into shit, and for the love of god, please, don’t fuck in the backroom once your shift is over. We’ve got cameras installed there. None of us want to be blinded like the last time.” 

“He was st-.” Woo tried to justify his actions but honestly - you didn’t want to hear it. You were traumatised enough. 

"Please! Keep it to yourself; just don't do anything that'll make me want to get you fired, okay?"

"Yes, boss." He saluted you military style, leaving you wondering if that was a coincidence. 

"Is that your friend?" The guy gestured back at the bar, clearly a witness to the whole encounter. 

"Worse. He's my subordinate." You sighed and saw his eyes double in size. 

"Do you own this place?”

"No, no. Just manage." You shook him off quickly. 

"Really?" He leaned in confused. He glanced over your body and it must've done nothing to him, because he returned his gaze back at your face as confused as before. 

God, he was so clueless.

You were wearing pants. You were a lady on business duty, clearly. If you were here to seduce men you would’ve worn a skirt. Last time you were in a literal dress shirt. Who does come to a club in a dress shirt? Not you. Not your club visitors either. 

“Is that disappointment on your face? You liked better the illusion I was here to party and fuck?” 

"No, no; quite the opposite. I've imagined seeing you here a few times and always feared you'd be here with someone else. That's a relief.”

“Damn, you’re really cute. What was your name?”

He chose to ignore you. “You’re good to go?” You nodded. “After you.” He gestured and you beelined before him to the exit. 

"So." You sing-sang, sighing as you buckled up in his car. 

He had a car; it was good to know. 

It felt like it was totally new, and the scent of new leather was proving your point. You looked behind your shoulder and saw a backpack with the national flag velcro patch attached to it. "You're serving outside the city." You stated.

He nodded his head and you focused your attention on his face. Lips pursed as his teeth bit into his cheek in an obvious sign of his focus on the road. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel to the beat of a jazzy tune on the radio as he waited for a long enough gap to drive out of the parking spot. 

“It’s still not connecting to me, usually they let people leave barracks in the morning. Unless you serve in a different country, it’s impossible for you to only be back in the city at 2AM.” You’ve been trying to connect his words through the whole short walk to his car. 

He moved his leg from the gas pedal, dropping his back onto the backrest; wildest smirk plastered over his mouth. 

“You can’t even remember my name but are complaining that I took too long to find you?” 

"I'm just trying to connect your story to make sure you're not a psycho that came here to murder me." he played with his eyebrows, smiling and returned his attention back to trying to drive away from the club. "And I can remember that you had two names; I just can't remember what it was." He took a short glance at you like yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying, you don't know my name and focused back on the road, finally pushing the gas pedal and driving off the parking space.

"Can you please take my glasses out of the glovebox?" His pointing finger gestured to your side, and you pulled the lock to open the compartment. 

Great. You didn't even know his name and he was acting like you were here to take his orders. 

"Are these real?" You easily spotted the black frame of the glasses and took them out, inspecting.

“Yes.” He reached his hand out palm up and you figured you should extend the arms of the glasses for him to not bother with that while driving. You left questions about his poor eye sight for another day. “Thank you.” He graced you with a single nod, eyes focused on the road; nonchalantly letting a cough past his lips, he once again pointed his finger towards the glovebox once you reached to close it. "Can you also take out the card that's in there." He began to piss you off a little with all his requests.

You quickly fished the laminated card lying on top of a bunch of papers out and locked the glovebox with force, pushing it towards him.

He glanced quickly at your annoyed face expression and thought it was a good idea to chuckle once more. “That’s for you.” 

You felt deeply confused, but still moved the card back to your face so you’d see what it was. 

Oh. OH.

It was his military ID. 

Date of birth, first name, surname, his rank, unit, and service status were all written on the little piece of plastic with a very cute, despite his standard uniform and a beret, photo. 

“Yuno.” You softly said. 

Right, that’s what his name was. Now you could remember. 

“That’s me.” He responded and your head raised back up to see him. 

Just in time you've stopped at the street light and he'd propped his head on his left hand that rested against the armrest. He scrunched his nose on one side to adjust the glasses over his nose, a soft smile adorning his mouth as he looked at you, and it was hard for you to not smile back, so you just did.

And maybe you were too tired to be thinking straight, but in that moment you felt like you fell in love with him. Over a simple gesture of fixing his glasses. Or maybe it wasn’t even that. 

“What was the other one?”

“Does it matter?”

"Mmh. I have to decide how I'm going to call you." Yuno grinned; the horns from the car behind were the only reason he pulled himself together and went back to driving.

You looked out the window and realised you can’t remember how you’ve gotten to his apartment last time. You were pretty sure he was drunk back then. You’ve had a few drinks yourself because one of your friends was leaving the club and you had a farewell party; then he appeared out of nowhere and you’ve lost your mind as his eyes quite obviously settled on you. 

You contemplated whether or not you wanted to ask if he drove you to his place last time, and by the time you’ve decided on doing so - he’d made a turn and drove down the parking lot. 

You didn’t make much conversation going out of the car, waiting for the elevator, or walking down to his apartment. He’d let you trail behind him like you lived here together and you felt confused. 

You get that he was a military man, but if he wanted sex he needed to make some sort of move on you. Like the first time. 

Not make it feel like a chore - especially when you had a total less than thirty minutes of conversation between you and barely knew each other’s names.

In the same quiet manner he walked into the apartment, taking his shoes off and you’ve done the same, barely catching up to him walking into the bedroom, backpack still intact on his shoulder since he retrieved it from the backseat. 

“Do you want a short or a long sleeve?” you’ve watched him put his backpack on a chair and take the fleece off his shoulders. He’d taken the watch off his wrist and left it on the table next to the closet he was currently staring at. 

He felt a little bit like a psycho; you couldn't shake the thought now that you've thought it. You were glad you stayed by the door frame. If he'd shown any signs of psychosis, at least you had a head start to the exit. 

"Excuse me?”

“For sleeping.” He peeked from behind the door. “Short or long sleeved tee?”

“Oh.” You gulped on a huge lump of air. “Weren’t we about to have sex?”

“I’ve been up for almost twenty hours; if we could just sleep-.” Yuno held in a yawn, eyes on the wall; you followed his gaze to make sure he was looking at the clock over there. 

“You brought me here to sleep?” He nodded like it was a given. 

He for sure was nuts. 

“Why?” You pressed, a little psyched yourself. Maybe it was the lack of sleep on your part, but you were sure one of the serial killers you’ve read about was also pretty and harmless to the eye.

“I told you, I couldn’t forget you. I was in the city and wanted to see you. Came to the same place I saw you at last time and damn, you’re in my bedroom again.”

“But to sleep?” You didn’t know if you should step forward or back, out of his apartment. 

“Yes. You didn’t give me your phone number and the club isn’t even open for the next three days. I pushed my luck.”

“Was the bringing me here part necessary?” You folded your arms over your chest. You’d decided on staying and pressed your shoulder against the door frame. 

“You didn’t give me your phone number.” He peaked out again and looked at you like he was sincerely finding it difficult to see why you couldn’t understand. 

“You know, normal people just ask for a phone number or KaTalk ID once more.”

“Well, consider me not normal.” He let a sigh out and you could see it on his face - the moment he processed what he said to an almost stranger he’d just kidnapped to his apartment. 

“I am.” You shrugged and Yuno smiled. 

“I’m going to shower and I’ll sleep on the couch.” He’d taken some clothes out for you and put them on the bed, approaching you with his sleeping attire in hand. 

“Couch? Why?” 

“Because I genuinely look like a psycho, don’t I?” You couldn’t hold back a smile. You gave him a few nods and walked to meet him halfway. 

“But you should stay here with me. If you’re saying you wanted to see me, isn’t it better you stay close so you could see what you’ve been looking for?” You let your pointing finger draw lines over his chest; Yuno replied with a nod. “Be quick, I want to get in bed with you.” You raised on your tiptoes, smooching his lips. 

You were awkward at initiating physical touch with him as he lay in bed, flat on his back, eyes closed. You'd looked at him for a few minutes before you'd crept a brush of fingers over his bicep and he'd startled you with how fast his eyes opened. 

It was just military training, you hoped.

He'd glanced over at you and you fully reached for his arm, moving it up to slide under, and he understood you perfectly, scooting closer to your body and scooping you under his arm. Then you'd let your arm rest over his clothed chest, and then with featherlight strokes moved it up to his chin and jaw, guiding his eyes onto you.

Now you were softly panting into his mouth, as Yuno continued letting the licks of his tongue stroke yours, your back pressed into his arm as he'd hovered over you - keeping you under and fully enveloped in his presence. 

Your fingers gave short strokes to the short hair on his nape and behind his ear, and you could even feel him purr against your skin when his lips focused much on licking into your neck. He'd returned back to your mouth and you were the one to push him on top of you, mouths moves paced.

You weren't sure what time it was; you'd kissed and then just cuddled in silence and then kissed again. It felt like you were in rem and dreamt all of this happening to you, brain so tired you weren't even able to believe you were still awake and actively indulging in the most heart-wrenching make out of your life. He was a good kisser.

No, fuck that. He was an excellent one and his body pressure felt perfect, and his body temperature was exactly warm enough to make you feel cozy under his touch. It’d felt so good you were almost convinced if he’d asked, you would’ve told him you loved him right there and then. 

You tickled behind his ear and he’d nuzzled his face in your neck like he was a kitty. 

“Do you have to leave the city tomorrow?” You wondered; if he’d said he was away this whole time, was this just his weekend leave?

"No, I'm on vacation. I'll be here for a little while." He reassured you, pressing lips into your jaw. 

He'd stretched his limbs and only then it hit you that he must be twice as tired as you are. He probably woke up at six AM or worse. 

"Do you only work at that club?" He'd asked before you could tell him to rest.

"No, I actually have an office job at my brother's company. He owns a law firm and I'm an associate lawyer. The club is my brother's wife's side kick and I manage the place when I need money. It's a very long story." You let him know the truth without regrets.  

"Wow." He let a surprised chuckle. "So you're a nepo baby, if you can say that about siblings." He clearly said it with no bad intention, so you took no offence. 

"Mmh. And you're a ROK Army Special Forces captain. Don't act like it's nothing shocking.”

“Depending on what’s shocking for you.” Yuno’s thumb brushed your side. 

“Where are you serving?”

“My main occupation was always here, in the city. I was recommended to a division at the border a few months back and ever since then I’ve been not far from Yongdae. I can’t disclose where exactly.”

“Yongdae?” You pressed your palm into his chest. “So you’re a liar, Jeong Yuno?”

"Why?" He clearly didn't catch up to your teasing yet. 

"You said you only came to the city an hour ago. Yongdae is like a two hour drive from here." As far as you could remember the map in your head, it was hardly a day-long job to drive anywhere within your country. 

"We had a farewell party; one of my friends was moved to the south.”

“And you didn’t drink?”

“I was set to come find you.”

“You’re cute.” You smiled, letting your lips land on the corner of his mouth. 

"Literally everyone was telling me to lay back and get back home tomorrow." He paused and as his brow furrowed, questioned you. "Wait, how do you know what time we're permitted to leave?" Yuno shuffled. "Ah, don't answer. You said you had a brother. Where did he serve?”

“Marine.”

“I see.” He nodded and clearly suppressed another urge to yawn. He’d finally given in to the wish to sleep, it seemed. “You don’t have anywhere to go in the morning, right?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Good. I’m really going to pass out, I’m sorry. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

"No, no. You should sleep; I can't even imagine how you had the strength to drive to the club and then back home. Military discipline is crazy." He gave you a smile, and then a little kiss to your lips, dropping on his back after, falling asleep.

You woke up, first instinct to run to the bathroom and make yourself presentable without making much noise, but then you reconsidered and brushed your hair down the parting with your fingers and wiped your eyes and mouth, in case you were drooling in your sleep.

You turned around, met with Yuno’s clothed back, hidden behind the duvet all the way up to his ears. You scooted closer to him and caressed his back between the shoulder blades in light taps of your palm. You really tried your best to be careful and soft in case you’d scare him; it didn’t help. 

You could hear exactly the moment his breathing turned from soft sleeping breaths into regular breathing, and he'd immediately sat up, probably on instinct.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up like this." You watched him press the backs of his palms into his eyes and turn around to take a look at you. You smiled apologetically, eyes scanning his sleepy ones and the print of the pillow on his cheek. Hair, though short, still able to stick all over the place on his head. 

It was hard to not pinpoint how much hair he had on his head. And body, for that matter.

"It's okay." He rasped and looked away, shaking his head a little.

"You can lay back down." You patted his pillow, awkward to suggest anything at all. He'd just given you the wildest look, like you weren't even invited to his bed in the first place, and it made the supposed morning after feel even worse.

Morning after what though? You, being stolen? You weren't drunk and you didn't have sex last night, and somehow the feelings were much more awkward than that first time.

“I’m sorry, I can’t mess up my schedule, I need to go for a run.” 

"A run?" You worked hard to swallow the bewilderment you felt in that moment. 

"Yes. I thought I'll wake up on time by force of habit." He glanced at the clock and so did you; it was past 11AM, definitely not the time he usually got out of bed. "And I'd be back before you're awake. I'm sorry.”

“No, it’s totally okay. I can leave and we’ll settle on a different day.” Yuno stood from the bed and furrowed his brow at you. “I’ll give you my phone number.” You smiled, but his face stayed serious. 

"No, please stay. I'll be like forty minutes and then I'm all yours." He shuffled with his clothes, changing out of the sleeping shirt into his training shirt and hoodie, sweatpants switched for running shorts. "If you want to, of course. I won't insist." He added much more aware of what this might've looked like, and you felt bad, for some reason. 

“Yuno?"

“Yes?” He turned around at your holler. 

“Come here.” He obeyed, following the gesture of your finger and walked back to the bed on your side, waiting for you. You reached a hand out and pulled him in by the zipper of his hoodie. 

“Your discipline is sexy, but forty minutes. I’ll be waiting right here, okay?” He nodded, finally letting a slip of smile adorn his lips. You pressed your mouth into his cheek and let him go. 

"All men do is lie, and you definitely are not an exception." You stretched in his bed, hoping the sound of your voice would run all the way to the entrance where he, given by the sounds of it, was taking his shoes off. It's been definitely longer than forty minutes, and you were bored out of your mind in his bed after you'd inspected his room with your eyes and spent good fifteen minutes in the bathroom brushing your hair with your fingers and chewing on his toothpaste.

"What? Sorry, I couldn't hear you from back there." He peeked through the door, and then walked himself through it and you stared at his arms. Both busy, one with two cups and the other one with a paper bag. 

"It's nothing." You swallowed your grumbling and sat up.

"I ain't got a single clue what you like, so I got an Americano and one coffee with milk. If you don't do coffee at all, I have tea in the kitchen. I got a lot of pastries in this bag because again, I had no idea what you like, so if none of it matches your taste I can fry you eggs, or I think I have oatmeal or cereal? I have to check, I haven't been home for weeks." It looked like he panicked a little and you'd swallowed a cry at his cuteness.

“Yuno, it’s okay.” You calmed him down. “I’ll have whatever you brought. Thank you.” He crossed the room and put everything on the bedside table next to you. 

“It’s okay to eat in bed.” He gestured with his hands. “I’ll join you after a shower.”

You sat up on your knees, inspecting his face glistening with sweat, patches of red still visible on his skin from running. 

“Which coffee do you like?” 

"It doesn't matter." He shook his head but the way his eyes wavered let you know it wasn't true. You were a lawyer; you liked to think you were able to see people lie. 

"Really?" You gave him a stern brow. 

"Okay, I like my coffee without milk." He gave in.

“Good, because I like it with milk.” Opposites attract and shit, huh. Yuno smiled and your arms locked around his neck. “Is it a cappuccino or a latte?”

“The latter.”

"You even hit the jackpot." You giggled leaning in to kiss his lips. Yuno kissed you back, pulling back right after.

"Give me five minutes to shower; I'm sweaty.”

"I don't care." You tried to flush your chest against his, his fingers catching your torso in a deadly grip, not letting you touch his soaking shirt. 

"I do." He whispered and you stopped, letting him go and falling back into the bed. "You can start eating without me.”

“How is it?” Yuno ruffled his hair with a towel, standing at the foot of the bed, watching you take a bite off one of the pastries, and you nodded, taking a sip from the cup. You put it back on the bedside table, swallowing everything that was in your mouth to give him a proper reply. 

“Amazing. You’ve got a good taste.” You flirted with a little raise of your shoulder. “In both pastries and women, it seems.” He teased his lower lip between his teeth and leaned into the bed, still standing. His fingers found your foot under the covers and pulled onto it, so you slid all the way down to the edge of the bed.

“I sure am.” He smirked and set his knees onto the bed, leaning his whole body over you. “I’m sorry I made you wait.” Yuno trailed the outlines of your lips with his mouth, gaze focusing back on your eyes. 

“I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.” he loved your flirting, gifting you one of his pretty smirks, and he dove in to kiss your mouth, lips running slowly against yours. One of his arms moved between your bodies, all the way down to your thigh to make you hook your leg around his waist. 

As you followed with his wishes, you felt his groin flush into your core and before you knew it a moan escaped your lips. Yuno smiled through the kiss and made another thrust with his hips; your arms finally giving in and locking around his neck. 

He trailed his mouth down your chin and neck, stopping right when his mouth met with the material of your shirt. He sat up on his heels and pulled you in with him to a sitting position like you were a rag doll, pulling the shirt over your head. 

His eyes traveled over your exposed chest he was yet to see in the daylight, palm covering one mound in its hold with a little squeeze of his fingers. 

"So beautiful." He let a hitched breath out as his mouth latched onto the other, quickly running the trail down to your nipple and sucking on it. Your fingers groped onto his shoulder, lips calling out for God, as his mouth went sloppy, kissing the skin under your breast and running a wet trail to the other side to make shivers run down your back while his tongue teased the sensitive bud. 

“Tell me what you like.” He’d demanded. The only reason you’d seen his darkened gaze set on you was your eyes widening at the sound of his voice. It was so guttural, you’ve never heard it like this before. Not like you had many chances to. 

"This." You whined as his lips gave pressure to your nipple once more. He mumbled a little good against your skin and after a few more teasing runs of his tongue against your chest, ran his mouth down your stomach.

Kisses, on kisses and even more kisses, which made you feel like his mouth was everywhere at the same time. You felt like he’d used some magic on you, making you squirm under his sensitive touch. His fingers still teased your nipple and he'd been so whole-consuming with his foreplay you'd only figured out where he was going when his mouth took the fabric of your panties between his teeth to pull it down.

You’d caught his head with your palms before he could go any further, forcing him back up onto your eye level. He’d complied to your wishes with no protest. 

“Don’t tell me that’s something you don’t like.” He teased, fingers brushing the column of your throat. 

“Just not today.” You flattered your eyes.

"Why?" He whined like you'd told a child he’s not allowed to watch any more cartoons for tonight. 

"I have to keep my secrets to entice you, don't I?" He'd smiled at you, mouth pressing into your cheek to run all the way down to your ear. 

"I am already enticed. No point in keeping secrets." He whispered against your ear, pulling back to see if he'd persuaded you.

"There's nothing a man wouldn't do to get between a girl's legs; you're not an exception, it seems." You'd taken his face in your hands, pulling him back in. 

"Okay, we'll have it your way." He'd let you pull him in for a kiss.

"Besides, we can't spend the entire day in bed. I have to get to know you." You ran your fingers through his hair, loving the feeling of his thick short hair against your skin.

"You can do that later; I won't take long. This, I can promise." He smirked, but you'd just raised a brow suppressing the smile, and he raised back up to your face, fingers running over the side of your underwear. "Am I allowed to finger you?"

"As far as I can remember from our last time,"

"First time." He corrected you.

“Okay, our first time; your fingers will do both of us a favour.”

“They certainly will, baby.” He’d let his hand travel back down to your underwear, boldly getting behind it and against your skin. You curved your back, thighs trying to run away from his touch. He let his thumb circle over your clit and your gasps filled the room. 

"When do you have to go back?"

Yuno groaned. "Don’t even remind me that I have to. I don’t want to think about that when I'm in bed with you." 

"But I need to know for how long I'm going to have you for.” You smiled, caressing the side of his face. He’d pressed his other cheek to the side of your bare breast, giving your rib attention with his tongue, even though you’ve just got your breath back to normal. You were beginning to hope he’d run out of strength to get hard at this point. 

"You can have me for as long as you want to." Yuno's fingers tickled your bare waist, and he'd raised his head to wrestle your body perpendicularly to his. He'd ended up with his face over your lower stomach, and you couldn't understand how he did that, lowering his face against the bare skin there and just stared into your soul from down there.

“I can’t have any more sex tonight.” You let him know honestly, it was beyond your strength to give him more of you. He’d taken, quite literally, it all. 

“I’m just looking at you.” He let his lips land below your belly button and you sucked your stomach in at the tickle. 

“You're not going to vanish for another two months once two weeks are up, right?”

"To ensure that I don't have a reason to do that," Yuno trailed his eyes to the bedside table and you did the same, looking at his phone. "I'm going to need your phone number." You got the clue and reached out to give him his phone to unlock. 

-

“I promised my friends I’ll go bowling with them Wednesday night. Do you think you’d want to come with me?”

“I’m terrible at bowling.” Yuno chuckled. “But it’s not about the game only, isn’t it?”

“Mmh. I don’t want to be separated from you if I have a chance to not do so.” He let his mouth land on your temple, keeping it family friendly in front of all the people that walked the same street as you. 

“Then you have to promise me you’ll teach me the proper way to play.”

“I will.” He pecked your lips, forgoing propriety. “So it’s settled?”

“Mmmh.”

“So, how serious your friends are about bowling?” You scratched your brow, watching Yuno pull out something that looked like a wrist support from the seat pocket. Did he have proper attire to play the game? Was he part of a pro-bowler club? You felt out of place before you even made it out of the car. 

“I fear, very serious.” He let out with a sigh. You were doomed, weren’t you. 

“And who’s the best player so I make sure I team up with them?” Yuno looked at you with a shy smirk. “What? You’re trying to say it’s you?”

“I’m not even bragging, I swear.” He let out with a scoff. 

“Sure, you’re not.”

“Okay, you can ask them who won three previous all-night tournaments we pulled.” Yuno gave you a brow, but you honestly couldn’t give him the praising reaction he was looking for - you were too stunned to speak. 

All-nighters? He can’t be serious, can he.  

“All night? I can’t stay all night though.” You leaned to him over the armrest. 

“I know, you have to go to work. I also wasn’t planning to make you suffer this long. I plan to be on top of you in no longer than four hours.” You giggled at his blatancy, letting your mouth leave a pink stain over his cheek.

“You just said it yourself, I have to go to work in the morning.” Yuno’s eyes darted at the clock on the panel of his car.

“What? It’s half past eight, it won’t even be midnight in four hours. I’m sure you can spare me an hour.” 

“An hour? Are we doing ten rounds?” You found a perfect chance to tease him. You’ve experienced his stamina enough at this point, you’d need way beyond an hour to do ten rounds with him. 

“Oh, you. Shut up.” Yuno rolled his eyes waving you off, then it seemed to strike him a little. The familiarity that could’ve possibly made someone uncomfortable in such a new relationship. 

But you weren’t uncomfortable, you were glad to see the real side of him. You were excited to meet his friends and see his normal life. Judge his personality outside of being under him or on top of him. 

“If you didn’t get it by the all-nighters, we’re a little manic when it comes to bowling. I’m sorry for the man I’m about to be.” Yuno stopped you next to the elevator door leading you from the parking lot, eyes looking like he was sincerely concerned, sorry and worried all at the same time. 

If he was going through so much stress with that invitation, you sure were thankful as hell he still kept it. 

“Really?” You let your arm slide around his neck, Yuno pulled you in with his, running it to your waist. “A man of passion, then.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, competitiveness is by far my worst personality trait.” You could not not smile at his admittance. Also, at the fact he was calling being competitive his worst trait - like he either was a saint or had poor judgement of his own self. 

“Then I should be really glad, Yuno. I can’t even pick one of mine to tell you.” His other hand wrapped your waist too, and now you were flushed against him, your own arms making the contact even closer; letting your mouths trail the traces of each other.

“You’re just being too harsh on yourself.” He let his lips land on yours for a split second. “You seem perfect to me.”

“You’ve known me for three days.”

“And two months. I want us to keep that time in the counts.”

“I haven’t even remembered your name until Sunday night.”

“Well, shame on you. I’ve had plenty of time to think what you were like in actual life.”

“And how is it matching?” You felt Yuno’s palm slide down your waist, caressing your lower back with the tips of his fingers. 

“I told you just now, perfect.” He kissed you, your mouth gasping as you felt his fingers crawl lower down your spine; featherlight taps turning into full palming of your clothed bum. “Is that okay?” Yuno pulled back, eyes concerned when you’d began panting like you were deprived of air. His fingers tapped your butt, showing you what exactly he was asking about. 

"Mmh, perfectly fine." Yuno laid his palm more boldly, giving the skin more pressure than before. "Though if you are to continue, we might as well go back to your bed now. Before I get so hot and bothered, I'll have no choice but to do the same to you."

"As much as I would love to do that, I can't skip tonight. My pride is on the line." Yuno sneered.

"I should probably just stay out and watch." 

"Oh, no." He sing-song into your ear. "You'll be the secret treasure of my team.”

“Is that them?” You asked, running your eyes through bowling alleys and settling on the farthest one. 

The first one was empty, the one next to it had a bunch of school kids on, the next one seemed to have a family and the farthest one you could see looked the most suitable. 

A loud bunch of twenty somethings with all types of outfits presented, letting you know they all came from different backgrounds. Someone clearly from an office job, someone wearing a pair of joggers and a hoodie; both men and women.

It then struck you that this whole time you've imagined a bunch of buzz cut military dudes ogling over a girl their friend brought. You stared up at Yuno who'd given up contact with you to wave excitedly at his friends who'd partially waved back at him. 

You had to admit once more to yourself that he looked utterly cute. For a supposed tough military guy he was sickening, even.

You didn’t expect an answer out of him anymore. “How do you know all of them, again?” You questioned, as you passed through the alleys. 

"Mostly school. Some are friends of friends that eventually joined the group." Yuno glanced at you, and you nodded accepting that information. You might've also had a question next, but it didn't matter as a tall guy, who seemed twice Yuno's size jumped in his arms and definitely beat all the air out of his lungs at the abruptness of the motion. Weight, you were sure, also.

“Seokmin get off his back, God,” one of the two females chirped and you pursed your lips up in a sudden burst of awkwardness. Seven heads stared at you, while Yuno was trying to make his friend, Seokmin, let go of him. 

You tried very hard to not give out your flawless hearing, eyes strained on the two males closest to you as someone from his friend group whispered who’s the girl? and the other replied with he said he’d bring a plus one, you didn’t read the chat?

“This fucker! Been ignoring my messages for five weeks.” Seokmin finally stepped back from Yuno, arm still around his shoulder; assumably to shake him every now and then in his hold, just like he was doing now. “I was beginning to believe he died on his special mission or what; then he’s suddenly up in the chat once the bowling night came about. You sneak.”

“Jae, we’re all happy you're back in the big city.” The dark-haired girl mirrored clearly everyone’s sentiments lightheartedly and your head whipped in his direction. 

You just hoped no one thought you’d felt jealous or anything else. 

It was his name. 

Jae. 

Jae what? There was definitely another half to it. 

Jae-Yuno also immediately looked at you and despite your very new relationship, you could tell by the look in his eyes he was curious if you’d remembered the name he told you that night. 

The one you carelessly forgot the moment you walked out of his apartment. 

Despite a very good clue, you couldn’t remember it. Still.

You had to know now, though. It was clear Yuno wasn’t his go-to choice and everyone called him Jae____. 

He’d looked at your eyes for a second longer and then just dropped your name to his friends with a little oh, by the way before that. 

“And she’s your…?” The black-haired girl spoke once more and you’ve felt beyond curious how he’d explain what happened between you two to his friends. 

“Acquaintance.” He said firmly, the tone of his voice asking for no more further digging about this from his friends. 

You swallowed a smile. 

Acquaintance it is, he was sickeningly right. And cute, again. Because you had a tiny bit of doubt about this question popping and his answer being quite revealing on the nature of your encounters. You liked the modesty of the answer. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, everyone.” You smiled, feeling like a kid introduced to a new class. “Though I am terribly sorry in advance for my bowling skills. I’ve told Y-, Jae,” you corrected yourself and looked back at the man beside you whose eyes shined suddenly with a glint of mischief. “He was insisting I come, so please put the blame on him.” 

Yuno shook his head with an eye roll and took a step closer to you to introduce his friends.

Seokmin, Mingyu, Dongmin were his school friends; Jihyo - the black-haired girl, was Mingyu’s college girlfriend before they figured they were better off as friends; Donghyuck and Jeno - the juniors he supervised during their mandatory military service and became close with; Johnny - his coffee mate he’d met when he was five on the playground, they grew up together and been close ever since. And then just Rosie. He didn't elaborate much about her, just gave you her name and she'd given you a little nod of her head to prove indeed she was her.

You looked at Yuno for a split second and realised he wasn’t planning to say anything else. Everyone moved around to begin the game, and you’ve listened to them decide on the team, Yuno, no, Jae chosen as the leader of a team within the second, same for Mingyu. 

Yuno had a definite idea of who should be on his team and who shouldn't, and in all that fuss, it really only made you like him more, with how serious and protective he was about you being part of his team. Despite you letting him know that a) it's okay and b) you don't care much.

He must really like it between your legs, huh. 

They’d ordered food and settled on the couches and the game started off by Mingyu’s team who’d shot a strike straight up on the first try and you’d gasped impressed, until Yuno did the exactly same and walked back to the couch you sat on with a satisfied grin on his lips. 

He’d dropped himself next to you, probably closer than necessary and draped an arm over the backrest above your shoulders. 

“Good moves, huh?” You teased in a whisper, uncomfortable in the presence of his friends’ stern eyes, and you were sure ears, to flirt with him to your heart’s content. 

"I told you, didn't I?" He'd moved in even closer, pressing his thigh against yours and leaned in with his mouth to your ear. "So what's my name?" He let his tongue swipe against your ear shell and you'd shivered immediately, folding more into his side.

"Jae-?" You moved back to look him in the eyes; he'd nudged you to go on with a little shake of his head. "Jaebeom?" 

"Wrong." He'd rolled his eyes and moved a bit away. 

"You're not mad, are you?”

“No, that’s entertaining.” He smiled, letting the sincerity of his feelings linger on his lips a little longer. 

“It’s your turn.” Donghyuck called out for you and you looked at the screen to prove to yourself that it was, indeed, your turn. 

"Come, I'll help." Yuno stood in front of you in a blink and walked out to get the ball for you. "You know how to hold the ball, do you?"

"That I do, don't worry." You shook him off with more confidence than you actually had. 

"Okay, shoot your shot, I'll see the technique first and will tell you how to improve the next turn." He'd folded his arms, turning full coach mode on to watch you score points, or fail. More likely.

You bent your back, taking a couple of steps back and as you tried to aim, you’d straightened your back back up and turned to Yuno. 

“Don’t stare like you’re going to scold me if I miss.”

“Oh he will.” Mingyu clearly eavesdropped, giggling from his alley. 

Yuno mumbled a dude, shut up and stepped closer to you. 

“Nevermind what I said, I’ll help you now too.”

“Am I that bad?” You cackled. 

“No, it’s just your posture.” He sighed like he was an actual coach and squatted first, raising to his feet and bending every limb of his in a perfect bowling position, showing you the proper posture to do it. “You won’t be able to let the ball slide when your knees aren’t bent. You need to sit down as you let the ball go.” You’d tried to do the same as him, sincerely, but under the stern stares of his best friends the realisation hit you like a wave and you’d felt awkward for ruining their pro-bowling club night. 

Yuno watched you try to do it his way once and he’d tolerated it no more, standing behind you and forcing your body to move the way he needed it to in order for you to score much needed points. 

It worked, kinda, you were able to score five points and you were beyond happy, high-fiving Jae’s open palm who’d been clearly suppressing his real thoughts on the throw. 

For the next five rounds your turns went with Jae’s hips pressed into yours and you weren’t sure anymore it was his attempts to improve your game or to make you horny. 

“Are you making it sexual or is it just me?” You questioned, giving him a high five as you’d managed to score nine points with his help, of course. He’d wrapped his fingers around yours for a second too long. 

“Am I?” He played with his brows and moved his attention to his own turn. 

You sighed, getting on the couch next to the other two women in this circle and looked over at Yuno fiercely talking with a couple of guys from the opposite team; you've turned your gaze at the girls and were met with two sets of eyes blinking at you.

"So you two are a thing?" Rosie clearly was the braver one to ask the pressing question. Jihyo slapped her arm, but all you could muster was a chuckle. "Jae never brought a girl before; you two have been together for a while?" She continued and you had to really put in effort to make your mouth work.

“No, like he said - we’re acquaintances. He randomly invited me here and I said yes.”

“How do you know each other? You’re not from the military, are you?” Jihyo smiled; for some reason her darker locks made you like her more than her friend. 

“I am not. I’m a lawyer.” 

"Do you win many cases?" Jihyo seemed to be excited. 

"I don't have that much experience yet to lead the case all by myself. I'm an associate, but next year I'm expected to lead."

"Wow, it must be very hard. I'm a vocal coach, not much of stress, except for when the students can't hit a note.”

"And you, Rosie, what do you do for a living?" You smiled, curious.

"Oh, my turn!" She jumped up from the couch and left with no further comment. 

"She's coming from wealth; that's a sensitive subject for her. She doesn't have a job in a sense we all do. She's not trying to be mean.”

“It’s okay.” You shook her off, not able to shake off the question. “How do you all know her, then?”

“He didn’t explain it to you, did he?”

“No. Explain what?”

“We all have wealthy families, him included. Some more, some less. Rosie is the excessive type, Seokmin is on the lesser side, but he still grew up in Apgujeong, went to the same school as us,” you wanted to ask what she meant by that. “I went there also; we just never knew each other before university,” you nodded. “She and Dongmin studied in the US, had a thing because they were the only Seoul-born kids on campus that year, once they got back it’s like they never fucked.”

“Wow.” 

"Yeah, years ago they were on the summer break back home and he brought her to our gathering, that's how we met Rosie." You nodded, acknowledging the story. "I think he's calling you." Jihyo gestured with her nose behind you, and you'd turned around to see the man that brought you here calling you with his finger.

“Already gossiping about me?” 

“No, not about you.” You grabbed the ball from his hands and stood in front of the lane. Yuno tried to get behind and you’d caught him just in time to make him stop. “No, please let me do it myself this once.”

“Sure.” He smiled and stepped back. 

You'd gathered all your new knowledge and stepped back, bending your legs at a perfect angle and extending your arms at the perfect time. 

The ball went right in the middle and you watched it, anticipating. 

Strike.

It was a fucking strike. 

Before you could realise it, turn around and exclaim in victory; Yuno had turned you around with his hand and grabbed your waist, flushing you against him and lifting you off the ground. His palm ran lower and patted your butt, giving it a couple of squeezes along the way. He'd kissed your cheek and pulled back. 

"Good job, baby, now we're going to win this.”

You literally dropped dead in the seat of his car, exhausted, overwhelmed, and everything above and beyond that after hours of bowling. You'd managed to secure Yuno's strike of wins by a point; he was still the champion, and he was too buzzing and happy to share the same sentiment of tiredness as you.

"I'm sorry we didn't leave earlier." Jae pouted at you on the first traffic light on your way. "I'm going to drive you to your apartment. With no expectations." He'd glanced at you and at the clock. 

Understanding must also go on the list of his good traits. 

"You can stay." You reached out a hand to pat his cheek.

"Just for sleeping, you need to go to work tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You giggled. “Just to sleep.”

You let your fingers caress his jaw bone. “Why did you say I was an acquaintance?”

“We haven’t talked about how I should introduce you to my friends, and we haven’t discussed us at all.” Us, your soul echoed. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“No, it’s actually a perfect description of us and also a perfect explanation.” You let your palm drop from his jaw onto the shoulder and you ran it lower onto his bicep to give it a tiny squeeze. “Can I ask more questions?”

“Of course.”

“You didn’t tell me how you know Rosie?”

“I know. I couldn’t say it in front of her. We’re not that much of friends, and she’s sensitive in all the wrong places and about wrong things, I’m sorry for judging her. She doesn’t like me because I accidentally ruined her fling with one of my military colleagues by exposing her lie.”

“Really?”

"Yes, she lied about her life; I can't even remember now what it was, but I accidentally said it wasn't true because he asked and wanted to make a surprise. She's been sour ever since. Not like we've been friends ever before.”

“Hm.”

“What is it?”

"I feel like it's quite the opposite." You chewed on your lower lip and closed your eyes, too tired to watch the lights pass. "It almost felt like she was a bit into you."

"She was into Dongmin, then she was into Seokmin and maybe it's me, this me, I'm not sure. She likes to write poems so if it helps her creative flow or whatever, it can be me.” Yuno shook his head like he was barely interested, focusing on more on the turn left. 

"Jaewoo." Yuno even turned his head at you, brows furrowed. So it wasn't it. "Jaemin?" It took him a second to figure out what you were doing and burst into a fit of laughter. 

"Jaehee?" You came up with one more option a few moments later.

"It's honestly getting kind of painful." He chuckled in response.

“Jaejoon?” You scratched your temple as Yuno parked his car in front of your building. 

“No.”

“Jaesok?” You questioned in the elevator. 

“Oh, drop it, I like you calling me Yuno.”

“But I want to know,” you whined once more, “Jaehyun.” You let your last option out and the way his eyes fluttered not in annoyance but in astonishment for the slightest second before he’d rolled them again, let you know all you needed to. 

You fisted his shirt and pressed him into the elevator wall, getting on your tiptoes.

“Jaehyun.” You whispered, mouth pressing into the side of his jaw. “Jaehyun.” You almost gasped against his skin. 

There it was, his name; now you remembered it for sure, because you could feel yet again the beads of sweat running down your back as he’d stuffed himself inside of you, your mouth not having a rest for a second, constantly moaning those syllables off your lips. 

Jaehyun.

You'd repeated his name once more, and somehow you were carried to your apartment door in his arms. He'd gone straight to bed; dropping you there and almost ripping everything he had on off his body, your arms doing the same with your garments, eyes focusing on every part of him.

Before he’d thrown his jeans away from his hold, he reached into the back pocket to retrieve a foil pack. “I see your expectations were met.” You chuckled, he was such a bluffer. 

"I had none; it was just lost in here, and I found it by a chance." He'd smirked, spreading your legs and pulling your underwear off. 

"Lucky coincidences, right, Jaehyun?" You teased, trying to get his attention, but his gaze glued to your now exposed folds, palm running to feel how ready you were to take him.

He’d rubbed you a couple of times and let you put the condom onto his leaking tip. He’d made you both burst so quickly and so sharply, you fell lifeless onto the mattress and opened your eyes next when the sun was already slipping through the curtains. 

-

“So, which one do you want me to call you? Which one do you like better?”

“Both sound amazing as moans off your pretty lips, baby.” He flirted more confidently than he’d done before; you loved pinpointing him getting more comfortable around you in small gestures or words he dropped unknowingly for his own self. 

He rolled off the bed and began gathering the clothes he carelessly threw around your room last night. 

"Jaehyun?" You called out, just curious about his reaction to his name and he'd given you enough; twirling on his feet, looking at you with his soft eyes, expecting continuation out of your lips next. 

"You have to go to work, don't you?" He raised a brow, putting the hoodie over his head. 

"Mmmh, I am, and you're going for a run as soon as you're back home?"

"Yes." His fingers smoothed the material down his arms. 

"When can I see you next?" 

"After work, I think. I could pick you up, or if you need some alone time I could come by later. Anything works for me, I'm free.”

“Yuno?” You let his name roll off your lips once more; it was like an addiction. Seeing his eyes raise up and connect with yours. 

“You’re just calling my name, aren’t you?” He walked back to the bed and let his fingers squeeze the skin above your knee. “Which one do you like better?”

He let his palm trail up your thigh and you had to catch it before your stomach twisted with want. 

"Both." Jaehyun entwined his fingers with yours; he'd never done it before like that, and you felt a flutter in your chest. He'd knelt before the bed and made your hand rest on his shoulder, taking the other in his hold instead. "When will you tell me how you got two names?”

“When you’re back from work?”

“Deal.” You leaned in, and he’d made a soft motion of his nose against yours. 

“I like you more every next day I see you.” He’d admitted in a half whisper and pressed his mouth chastely to yours. 

“I like you too.” You smiled, pressing your lips into his cheek. “Yuno, or Jaehyun, it doesn’t even matter. You’re right.”

"My family and colleagues call me Yuno, colleagues because that's what's written in papers and family because my grandma gave me the name. Jaehyun is also the name my family gave me, but I've changed it because you can't write it in Hanja. Friends mainly call me Jaehyun because they've known me to be Jaehyun since we were kids.” He opted to explain it to you now and you appreciated his openness. 

“So the change’s been quite recent?”

“Middle school.” You nodded, understanding. 

Your phone buzzed and you saw the clock on the screen and your next questions regarding his name fell out of your brain. 

You were going to be late for work, shit. 

“Aah, I have to get up.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Jaehyun closer to you. He’d squeezed you in his hold, mouth pressing into your cheek and moved back, allowing for you to get up. 

“I also need to go, but I’ll see you later. Just let me know when.”

“Mmh. Bye?”

“Bye.” He nodded and blew you a kiss. 

You’ve never found it harder to find any will to go to work within your system than in the past week. 

It’s been hell willingly leaving Jaehyun for an entirety of eight to nine hours to go and act like you cared for anything that was happening at work, when all that’s been occupying your brain ever since he found you was him. 

The thoughts turned whole consuming the more time you’ve spent with him, on him, under him. Even now, when you were supposed to work you were texting Jaehyun about your plans for tomorrow. 

Your eyes set on the calendar counting down the days you had left before it was his time to return to the military base. The time was passing by too quickly. How were you down already to 5 days? How has it been only nine since you met him?

It felt like an eternity. It felt like he has always been around. Kissing you, lulling you to sleep, taking strolls in the park with you, going out with his friends. It’s been nine days and imagining what will happen in another five made you feel so hollow. He was so right for you. He was your person, you were sure. 

No one could connect like that and get along on literally every level there is in such a short period of time. 

You couldn’t imagine not having him around. Couldn’t imagine only calling him on weekdays, kissing his mouth on weekends. It was stupid. 

It felt surreal. Who came up with this stupid rule?

Who send him all the way up to the north, when he belonged here, in the city, glued to your side. Be your boyfriend. 

“Want to go for lunch now?” Lawyer Kim caught your attention. 

“Ugh, yes. Yes. Sure, let’s go.” You nodded urgently and grabbed your wallet.

“Let me at least take over from here. You’ll have to drive yourself all the way back to the city.” You gave him a short glance. “Please.”

“Okay, okay. You can drive.” You agreed, with much dramatic exasperation in your voice at his persistence. 

You pulled the car over on a curb, turning the emergency lights on in case someone was going down the same road and decided to ram your car. Jaehyun immediately undid his seatbelt and reached for his door, but you’ve fumbled a little with your moves; palm covering his knee when you could see him determined to take the wheel. 

“Wait.” You hastily told him, making the man next to you pause all his actions. 

You undid your own seatbelt in a slow manner and turned to him, concern washing over his face in a second. 

You knew he was about to change that facial expression in a whiplash. You'd moved your seat back a little and in one motion moved your leg up over to Jaehyun's thigh. In three more not that gracious motions of your body you'd ended up on his lap, a puff of air the only sound accompanying the moment.

You moved your fingers over to his nape, running them through Jaehyun’s hair and finally rested your forehead against his. 

“I think I’m really going to miss your presence this week.”

"I will too. I am going to really miss seeing you whenever I feel like it. These two weeks we had, they were really special for me, baby." Jaehyun leaned more, letting your noses touch. His palms moved up your thighs onto your waist, and you slid a bit further up his legs to get your torso's closer.

"I have a condom in the pocket of my jacket, because I want you to use it just this once before you have to go." You admitted shamelessly, trailing Jaehyun's mouth with yours. He'd immediately reached for both sides of you, retrieving it from the right one. 

"I don't know if this is weird; we've only been doing this for two weeks. But I hope you would want to be my girlfriend, because I'm willing to be exclusive and devoted to you.”

“Because I offered you a quickie?” You chuckled, instead of giving him a proper answer. 

"Because you proved to me that when there's the right person everything is clicking within a day." Jaehyun took your head in his hand and you happily let him guide your lips to his; melting into the kiss as you put more body weight against him.

"I want only you, exclusively, too." You let him know and he smiled happily; that true sincere smile that made his dimples pop, and pressed his mouth into yours once more. You had to push him back once more. "Now, boyfriend, do you want to use this rubber or not?”

“I do.” He admitted, arms snuggling onto your waist, to lift your clothes up your stomach. He tried to be sweet even as you were crumpled in the car, placing kisses and caressing your body, but soon enough he’d figured his wishes were hard to realise, so you’d both pulled your jeans and uniform pants down and quickly helped him roll the condom down his length. 

It wasn't a goodbye sex in its exact meaning, but it also was; thus, it felt like every feeling was multiplied by a hundred. It felt like he was reaching deeper than before; your walls were swallowing him tighter than before. Jaehyun's mouth running against your skin felt hotter than before.

Your thighs were on fire, he’d tried helping you by thrusting from under you, but the car was too small and too uncomfortable for you to let him do what he wanted. He’d ended up grabbing your thighs and guiding you down along his length, until he quickly enough felt like he’d reached his high, and rubbed your clit until you could join him. 

“Oh god. Never again.” Jaehyun chuckled right into your ear, while you panted against his chest in a post-orgasm bliss. “I like to be able to reach all of you when I’m making love to you. No more car sex.”

“You’re too cute.” You caressed his cheek, pecking Jaehyun’s lips. “But I do agree, this was horrible. Though, an experience.”

“I never had sex in a car before.”

“Me neither.” You chuckled. 

He’d helped you put all your clothes back on and with a little rumble paid his attention to the fact he’s going to be late and get told off. You’d quickly let him leave his seat to drive to your destination. 

"You have to be in the city before eight PM to catch me home." You leaned into your phone, staring at your boyfriend through the screen. He did the same, eyes running over his phone. 

"I'll be in the city before midday, baby." You beamed at the promise; he'd sealed it once more for your heart to be content. You were constantly paranoid about not having enough time together before he'll have to leave once more. "Why are you half naked, by the way?”

"I'm getting dressed for work." You informed him, trying on a blouse that was supposed to give professionalism.

"You're on lawyer duty this morning?" He smiled at the phone and you leaned in once more to nod. "Can I protest?" 

"Why?" You chuckled.

“Too much cleavage, I think everyone will be distracted.” 

"Perhaps, someone's jealous?" You teased.

"Mmmh, I am. Jealous of tomorrow, me who's going to bury his face in all this." He'd flirted and moved his attention somewhere else; losing all the emotion from his face at once. 

"What is it?”

“I have to go, but I’ll see you very soon and in person.” you sent a million flying kisses into the camera before he’d cut the call and you focused back on getting ready. 

“Boss, isn’t that the guy that came here a couple of times with you?” You barely heard the question, focused on recounting the gin bottles once more as the beats of Akon’s Smack that took your mind elsewhere. Woo repeated his question directly into your ear canal and you had to wipe it from his spit midst turning around; brows furrowed and confused. 

It was one AM, you told Jaehyun to sleep because he was up since six, and he even gave in and messaged you goodnight when you promised to wake him up once you’re back. 

But he was right there, in front of you, eyes smiling as well as his lips, while looking at you. 

“Jae? What are you doing here?” You leaned in over the bar, when he’d done the same on the other side of it. 

He was taken of the opportunity to answer as two people wrapped his shoulders to lean over the bar with him. You’ve recognised Mingyu and Rosie by his side, your eyes involuntarily sliding down where her fingers gripped his forearm. 

He’d lowered his gaze there also and made a small motion to free himself, but she’d just readjusted her hold. 

“What do you want to order, Jae?” She chirped, oblivious to the person behind the bar. 

“Wait.” Mingyu looked you dead in the eyes and didn’t take a second to recognise you. “You’re a bartender?!”

“That’s my manager.” Woo came in, probably assuming these people wanted to place an order; probably to eavesdrop on gossip. 

“Ooof, is that courtesy of this young man?” Mingyu chuckled, patting Jaehyun and gestured over at his chest and neck, making four sets of eyes, yours on top ogle over your cleavage. 

“Why would you stare at my girlfriend’s chest?” Jaehyun furrowed his brow, punching Mingyu’s shoulder like he was upset. He’d smirked right after at his friend and the other guy patted your boyfriend’s shoulder once more.  

Jaehyun had left a few marks there five minutes into your meeting today, and you've put on much concealer over your skin to cover it in order not to be suffocated in a turtle neck at a club. It clearly didn’t help, huh. 

"Your girlfriend?" That bit of information made Rosie scandalised; also made her let go of his arm so it was a win for you.

"How would I know that if you don't talk shit about your life?" Mingyu shot back with a mock accusation and Jaehyun ran his eyes into his head. 

"Can you give us a moment?" Jaehyun looked at his friends and Mingyu dragged Rosie away in a second. "Hi baby.”

“What are you doing here?” You’d said in unison; Jaehyun reached a hand to hold your fingers over the bar. “You messaged goodnight, I thought it meant you were sleeping.” You softened and got on your very tippy toes to be closer to his face. 

“I was, but then I thought of a question. Needed to ask it immediately.”

“So you gathered all your friends to accompany you here for a question?” Jaehyun shifted his weight and his palm landed on your jaw, caressing with his fingers. 

“I find it impossible to be apart from you when we’re in the same city, baby. You’re not mad, are you?” He moved his neck back a little to stare deeply into your eyes. Of course, you weren’t mad. For all you knew, the feeling was reciprocated. You really wished to be with him the whole time, especially when it was this limited. You’d even considered not going to work. At all. 

He’d pulled your face in closer, and the distant sound of Woo’s voice was the only reason you were able to find strength and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“I can’t do this when I’m on the clock. I ask this of my staff and can’t go against my own set of rules.” You gasped out. 

“Okay. Can you finish early tonight? My friends really want to party with you.”

“Only your friends?”

"You know partying is not what I want to do with you at all, sweetheart." You bit into your lower lip, letting your noses touch. You'd no more self-control to refrain from kissing him any longer when he was so close and so seducing just by his existence. 

"Okay, give me another thirty minutes and I'm all yours." You let your palm rest over Jaehyun's cheek; mouth pressing into the dimple on his cheek.

“Like you’re not now?” You scrunched your nose up and he’d let you go, not taking it any further. “I’ll be over here, waiting.” He’d gestured at the bar stool next to him and sat down on it. 

“Here? What about your friends?”

“These two gossipers surely already told the news to the rest of the group and if I go there now, I’ll be dead by the time you’re done.” He bit onto his cheek, holding in a smile, head shaking in a thought. 

"You should've told them we were acquaintances if that's what you were comfortable with." You shrugged a little, trying to play indifference, when you thought how his friends told you how they were rich kids; by your own conclusion, they were probably pretentious enough over their friend's choice and he could be faltering sharing it, even though Jaehyun was part of the group too and didn't seem one bit like it."They didn't know about us because it's none of their fucking business and because we've not been together properly, even for a week. I wanted to talk about what you're comfortable with before telling them anything." You nodded and bit into the corner of your lip feeling immediately stupid for whatever you thought was the reason a moment ago.

You didn’t say anything back. You leaned over the bar and pecked his mouth before he’d realised what you were doing and moved back to the task you had before he came over. Jaehyun sitting obediently on the bar stool the whole time. 

You'd returned from the back room forty minutes later, clocked out and changed into the emergency clothes you had in here for instance, just like this, and this time went straight to Jaehyun, who sat at the bar still, a drink in his hand. He clearly didn't see your approach because he'd looked startled as you flirted with him before he worked out it was you.

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again and try to impress you?” You flirted with the stupidest line you could come up with. 

“Did you swap clothes with someone?” Jaehyun looked at you astonished, a little; arm immediately sneaking over your lower back to pull you in between his legs. “Love the skirt.” He’d grabbed onto your bare thigh way higher up than you would’ve expected him to, keeping in mind the skirt was extra short and he’d still managed to surprise you. 

"I had a spare fit in case someone ever wanted me to quit early, you know."

"I fear you're quitting early every week from now on." Jaehyun's other arm grabbed your waist, and you pushed him back.

You’d raised your palm up and Woo scooted closer in an instance. 

“I’ve clocked out, but I’ll be here for a little while if anything is needed.” He’d nodded, not even trying to focus his gaze on you, watching Jaehyun’s lips trail kisses up and down your neck instead. 

"I do kindly remind you of the no fucking in the backroom rule, boss. Clocked in or not," he'd given you both a brow and you wanted to gasp scandalised, but Jaehyun took over with a hearty laugh and you'd given in chuckling yourself. "Have a great time though. I'll even consider giving the first set of your drinks on the house.”

“How’d he know this is exactly what I’ve been wanting ever since I came in here.” Jaehyun turned you around in his arms and finally leaned in, pressing his face against your cheek. 

"You weren't exactly trying to keep your intentions a secret." You smiled, and forced his face away, to finally kiss him. 

You've gone through haste makeouts in the morning. An absolute mess of feelings and pure physical need for release has guided the first six hours of your meeting and now you've slowed down to just holding each other, being next to each other. Enjoying the press of his lips against yours, palm pressing into the small of your back. 

You've only ever felt that content with your own self, never with someone else. Not with someone you've known for a couple of weeks. Never with someone so open about his own feelings, so certain of what he wanted. Certain that he wanted you.

“What was the question? Or was there none?” You let your palms press into his thighs, mouths pulling apart to take a few proper breaths in. 

“No, there was. Must you work at the club at night? Are you really needed here like that?”

"No," you couldn't suppress a laugh. "There's an actual office rented with more staff working there during daytime; I just prefer it this way. I do all the administrative tasks and etc. in my office, simply because I can. Why?”

“Was just curious, there’s nothing to it.” Jaehyun chuckled and pulled you back in by your chin. “Glad to know you’re not just forced to work at night.” 

 “Are we not going to go to your besties?”

“Right. We are.” Jaehyun let an exasperated sigh out and stood up, leading you to his friend group. 

"You know, I still can drive you back this time too." You caressed his clothed chest, unable to part yourself from his body. 

"You don't have to. I'll take the bus; you won't have to spend half of your day on the road." The tips of his fingers tickled your cheek and you raised your eyes up to look at his. Weird wave of realisation and literal grief washed over you.

You were down to another five days before you could touch his shoulder like that again. 

“You’re right, the bus is the right decision.”

“Mmh.” Jaehyun pecked the corner of your mouth. 

“But we’ll have a little more time together if I go with you.” You let your arm slide up his chest and around his neck. Jaehyun looked at you pleadingly, knowing he’d worry more once you’re left to drive back home in the darkness. “No, you are right, I should stay here and get ready for work.”

“I will miss you.” He whispered, mouth immediately latching onto yours. 

You clutched onto his shoulder, suddenly sinking into your own feelings that were not letting you go of him. You weren’t ready; you weren’t able to accept that someone else was deciding when you were allowed to see him. He was your boyfriend, but he wasn’t all yours. 

“I can’t wait for your very last day there. I can’t wait for the day you’ll always be in the city.” You tucked yourself under his arm, face peppering kisses onto his neck. 

“Me too, baby.” Jaehyun pecked the crown of your head. “I have to go now, though. See you Saturday, right?” You nodded, letting his lips trail every bit of yours for the last time for today. “I’ll be here before midday and we’ll go out for a brunch. We’ll do everything you want us to do, and then I’ll drive you to work and wait for your return to kiss your pretty mouth until you’re asleep. Deal?”

“Deal.” You once more trailed the outline of his face with your finger and loosened your grip. 

Jaehyun moved his arm away too, and with one more look at your face exited the apartment. 

You’d schemed all week, asking questions like what time he’s going to leave the base, what time he’ll be at the bus station, what time is his bus, what time he thinks he’ll arrive, all two fish out information and not seem suspicious. Jaehyun took it for your eagerness to see him - which it undoubtedly was, but you’ve also been gathering information to surprise him. 

It wasn’t hard to spot him in a group of military men even if you weren’t seeing his face this far from you. He was taller, with glasses over his nose, though it might not be that much of a distinctive trait in his friend group, and had something to his step that even that made him look hot and seducing. You probably needed a CT scan of your brain. 

You let the group walk much closer, finally working out features of your boyfriend not in your memory but with your own eyes; they’d walked all submerged in conversation and not payed attention to a single thing around them. 

You’ve not expected him to see you even as you stood up not far away from where they were walking simply because he wasn’t expecting you there. 

“Jeong Yuno.” You called out and he’d made a one-eighty so swiftly, eyes landing on you without a single struggle to find you. “Hi.”

He’d scooped you in a hug the very next moment. “Oh my god, baby. What are you doing here?” He’d taken a look at you and furrowed his brow. “You’ve not driven here, have you?”

“No, came here on a bus.”

“Did something happen?” You shook your head no and took his face in your hands. 

“I missed you so much, Jae. I couldn’t wait until midday. I wanted to see you as soon as possible even if it means I had to go all the way down here.” You pulled him in and he’d kissed you with no thought of withholding his feelings. His palms trailed your waist and soon enough lowered down your thighs, pushing your core against his. 

“Ugh, Jeong.” One of the man called and he’d pulled back, so displeased he was interrupted. 

“We’re coming, a minute.” You pulled onto his sleeve at the certainty in his voice. “Mmh?”

“Actually, I found a very cute hotel nearby and even booked a room there.” You chewed onto your lip and fluttered your eyelashes at him. “For two people, for tonight.”

He’d grabbed your neck and pressed your mouth into his all before you could read the face expression he had. “Give me a second.”

You watched him walk away from you to explain to his friends how he wasn’t going back to the city tonight and even endured their glances with a little wave of your fingers as they all collectively stared at you after he’d said something clearly mentioning you. 

“So, where is it?” Jaehyun asked upon his return to you. 

“Wait,” you pulled onto his wrist. “Before we go there, you have to promise me we’ll go out for dinner. We won’t procrastinate in bed all day.”

“Pinky promise.” Jaehyun took your fingers in his and then forced your lips to meet once more in a kiss. “Wait, but what about the club for tonight?”

“Left Woo to run it.” Jae nodded like he cared, and you walked to the hotel with him, knowing damn well he was not keeping that pinky promise.

“If you said it was supposed to be for six months and we met when you’ve already served two of them, which is twenty four weeks minus eight” you folded Jaehyun’s fingers instead of yours for counting. “You’ve come back once, I’ve been here four times already-.” You folded more fingers. “It means eleven more weeks, and then I can wake up with you in a bed whenever I feel like it?” You moved on your elbows to Jaehyun’s face.

“That is, if everything continues as it is. Near the border, I mean.” 

“Of course, it will.” You chuckled at his silliness and pressed your mouth into his. “I can’t wait to have you more than just for dinner at the cafe and this hotel room.”

“That can be achieved if you’ll just let me come back to Seoul. We could go to so many places there.”

“I don’t want you to. It’s a long road and you have to go back and forth, and-.”

“But that is exactly what you’re doing for me, isn’t it?” He’d stopped you, sitting up with his back against the headboard. 

Jaehyun deliberately pulled you from his chest and made you sit up, thighs over his. He’d taken your palms in his and the concentration and slight worry over his face made you more worried than he was. You’ve squeezed his fingers between yours to give him courage, and Jaehyun finally focused his gaze on your eyes.

“I love you.” your heart immediately thumped in your head, he’d looked even more worried as you graced him with silence, but you couldn’t undo the freezing. Your whole body suddenly felt like it was made of ice that burned, if that made any sense at all. You were frozen, but also terribly on fire, heart pumping blood like it was its last day alive.  

Was he sure? Wasn't it too soon? Is he even aware of what this confession is doing to your heart, mind, body, and soul? 

"It's okay if you're not ready to say it back, no pre-." He must've taken your astonishment the wrong way, huh.

“No.” You quickly rearranged your thoughts, unclasping his hold on your fingers and leaning into him, palms landing on his soft, fuzzy cheeks. “I love you, Jaehyun.” He’d smiled, relieved and perked his lips up for a peck you happily granted him. His arms locked around your head pulling you in closer, legs between his legs and you could tell he was feeling himself as if the weight of the world fell off his shoulder. 

You thought something was off at work when you’ve talked to him today, but it seems like the issue was the nerves. He was still so undeniably cute. Dear Lord. 

“I think I loved you before you asked me to be your girlfriend. When on your vacation you took me to work and picked me up, when you bought me pastries on your morning runs, when you took me bowling I felt like I was getting deeper into you every time we were together. I probably fell for you when you came to the club and said you came here for me first thing you were able to be back in the city.”

“I love you.” He smiled, relieved you were able to reciprocate. Maybe, a little surprised at the fact he was accepted and understood. “Been wanting to tell you for weeks.”

“I love you.” You smiled mischievously, kissing his shoulder. “I love you.” Your mouth pressed into his jawline and Jaehyun wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “I love you.” You kissed his cheek and moved before his mouth. 

“Once I’m back to the city, you’ll have to move half of your staff to my place, because there’s no way you’re staying far from me.” You hugged his neck, excited at the mere mention of him living in the same city as you. 

You’ve been contemplating for the past three weeks - flowers or no flowers? Should you bring a cake or just take him home and do all the celebratory events you’ve prepared there.

You’d stared at the watch on your wrist for the nth time in the last ten minutes and finally figured it was time to come out of the car to greet him, taking a small flower bouquet from the passenger seat with you. 

You'd taken just two steps from the car, when you'd seen Yuno's silhouette exit the gates and took off like a mad woman in his direction. 

People watching you cross the parking lot like that had a good reason to think you were running away from a killer.

“Baby.” You cried out, emotions overflowing in your system. Before you knew it, before you could ever reach him, happy tears streamed down your face. 

Jaehyun was coming back to the city and he was coming back for good.

You choked on a sob, finally jumping into his arms. Jaehyun took you in his hold, squeezing the life out of you with his hug. He'd lifted you off the ground and your arms found their place over his neck, the bouquet in your hold brushing the back of Jaehyun's head.

You gave each other a couple of long looks, like you haven’t seen each other in ten years and locked lips in a kiss. 

You were so relieved, in such bliss, you’ve let your kiss portray exactly that. 

You were finally able to let go of that constant fear at the back of your mind - what if something happens? What if anything at all happens and you’re never seeing him again? 

You’d choked even more on the thought and grabbed his face with your fingers like he’d returned from literal war. 

"I'm so happy you don’t have to go back here again." you mumbled, lips setting on his jaw. Jaehyun’s fingers somehow reached your clothed inner thigh and caressed it while holding you in the air. 

You felt like kissing his face and neck right then and there, unable to contain your excitement a minute, much less take it home. 

Jaehyun slid his tongue against your lips and you've granted him access into your mouth, letting a whine surpass your lips. Jaehyun smiled, his arm dangerously teasing your inner thigh. 

"See you Monday, Jeong. Don't be late and don't overwork yourself on the weekend, huh." Some guy commented through a chuckle, and you pulled back.

Eyes stern in a second. 

"What did he mean?” You questioned, non-accusatory, yet. Maybe you’ve gotten it wrong. 

"It's nothing, baby.” Jaehyun shook his head, trying to kiss you once more. 

"What does he mean about the Monday?" You pulled back and Jaehyun let you back on the ground. 

Right this moment you could tell by his eyes he has to be back here Monday, it’s just that you were still in the midst of not accepting the reality. 

Or the lie, or the fact he’d kept it away from you all of this time and made you excited like a stupid fool over nothing. 

"Why did you lie?” You let the disappointment out on the surface. 

"I didn’t, baby.” He pleaded, but it didn’t really reach your heart. It was thumping in your head once more. Absolutely tearing apart your bodily system with borderline betrayal. This was betrayal, right?

“Liar." You spat, hurt. Suddenly, it wasn’t the happy tears that streamed down your face. 

"I didn't know until five minutes ago. I didn't have the time to tell you. I received the command just now." Jaehyun still tried to pull you back in, but it was useless. You were suffocated out in the fresh air; under his touch, you were set to immediate death. Of pain and disappointment.

"Why didn't you say no?" It was such a stupid question; you knew he couldn't. But you had to ask.

"I can't. I literally can't." Jaehyun looked at you like you were insane. Maybe you were, for believing what he told you. For letting him lead you on with the promise.

“You're lying again?" You cried. 

"No, of course not. I'm a man of duty, wherever it calls - I follow. That's why the commander decides, and I just do what I'm told.” Jaehyun tried to showcase his military voice to you, but you weren’t impressed one bit by it.

"No." You cried and stepped back. 

"Baby, please." Jaehyun pleaded, understanding of your reaction, but also hurt and worried. You could see that, but you also knew it was always necessary to put yourself first. You couldn't feel pity at this moment for him, for the person who didn't even find it important to tell you about his plans. Even though you thought you were important; even though you thought you were loved.

"Please what?" You stepped back and couldn't understand why did you even decide on bringing the flowers. 

"I love you." Jaehyun went for the low blow, it seemed. 

"Do you even? Maybe it's just convenient to have someone that's ready to spend half of their weekend on the road for a fuck?" You decided to go for one too.

"Stop, saying hurtful things won’t make it better. You know I love you and I always show it to you." Jaehyun tried to touch you once more. 

"No, don’t touch me. I-I can’t." You wiped your nose. "I'm going back home."

"I'll drive." 

"Whatever." You shook your head, running back to the car without him. You couldn't imagine yourself driving for two hours straight; in the back of your head, you were glad he offered. You trailed to the passenger seat and threw the bouquet to the backseat, fastening your seatbelt afterward.

Jaehyun followed not long after, quietly leaving his belongings in the seat behind him and starting the engine. You pressed yourself against the door, unable to feel fine while having him this close. Knowing it's once more only for less than two days. Tomorrow he'll have to go back to be in time for his 6 AM Monday weekly kick-off.

Your eyes caught glimpses of his fingers over the screen, connecting his phone and searching for your shared playlist in his profile. 

You felt your palms turn into fists at the desperation and powerlessness you had in this situation. You had no capability to change the situation. You had to obey; to be part of his world, you had to be as obedient as he was. 

Follow the rules Jaehyun was set to follow. You didn’t want to, you couldn’t. 

You could not do this any longer. 

You couldn't accept that some man in a uniform decided how your relationship is going to go. When you can see the man you love, and when you're not. 

The inner turmoil was suffocating you; you felt your breath get even more uneven than before. Jaehyun couldn't keep his distance from you anymore; he took your hand, kissing the back of your palm.

"Baby, please. Don't cry." You tried to pull your hand out of his hold. "I love you more than anyone in this world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. See you on my deathbed, grey and with a bunch of our grandchildren hugging your shoulders." Jaehyun's lips peppered kisses over your palm. "I swear to God none of this is intentional. I want to spend all of my time with you and I am not allowed to. They need me there. I have to obey. If I could’ve, I would've been back in the city after our first meeting.” Jaehyun pressed his lips against your palm, talking into your skin, not forgetting to leave a few kisses as he finished his sentence. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way. No one ever gave me flowers.” He’d kissed your palm once more as a thank you. 

Your heart melted, just a little. 

You couldn't make yourself pull your hand out of his hold, let him know it was hurting you more than what he must've imagined it would. 

You should've said something to him about how much he meant for you. How much you've come to love him, those weeks you were apart yet still together. You couldn’t stand being ruled by a man you’ve never seen in your life, but more than that you’ve came to realisation you couldn’t imagine separating yourself from the guy, whose feelings were not considered in the decision making process. 

You couldn't imagine not taking your weekend trips all the way up to the north to see him, live in your little bubble for this short period of time. Enjoy his love, care, and thoughtfulness. 

"How long for?" You made a sound for the first time in an hour, and it must've startled Jaehyun so much his hand made the wheel turn left a bit; he even had to let go of your fingers that he held on to patiently and straighten the car in its lane, only to recollect your digits between his in a moment.

"Mmh?" He asked confused, eyes darting between the road and you. 

You sounded too hoarse the first time and decided to repeat the question. "How long do I have to wait for you again?"

Jaehyun looked at you, clearly scared to give you the real answer. You bit your tongue, giving a short caress to his fingers holding yours. 

"A year." 

You squeezed your eyes to not burst into tears right in the middle of the driveway. 

Another whole fucking year. You were going to go insane. 

It's been officially eighteen hours since you last left Jaehyun’s bed for more than three minutes. He'd left you there alone and miserable for at least an hour to go on his stupid run, even though you were obviously grieving. He'd also left you for another fifteen minutes to go pick up your burger order, but other than that he'd obeyed to your wish to stay there.

It was probably simple for him to obey to someone else's wishes, wasn't it?

You haven't talked much; you could tell he was getting more concerned by the minute because the time was ticking, and you barely talked to him, and he needed to leave soon, but he couldn’t.

Not when you were feeling yourself like this, not when you looked at him like you were dissociating. Even when your mouth let moans out, your eyes looked at him with a glint of hollowness. 

He’d glanced at the clock on the table once more and let a sigh out signalling he wanted to talk, but was so deep down into this silent awkwardness he simply couldn’t. 

You’d given him a boost of confidence by raising your gaze at him. Jaehyun cleared his throat, but it clearly didn’t help him speak in his regular voice. You’ve entertained the silence for too long. 

"We're all good, aren't we?" He'd looked at you sheepishly and that tore you apart completely. 

"We are." You blinked through the sudden wave of tears and had no other reply but falling on his chest for a hug. Jaehyun let his arms wrap your shoulder, and before you knew it you wailed like someone physically ripped you open and took a piece of your heart out.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know what I could do to make it less painful. You’re always sacrificing so much for me and I can’t even get back in the city.” Jaehyun whispered against your temple, palm caressing your back.

“That is not true.” Your fingers wiped the tear stains off your cheeks, colliding with Jaehyun’s fingers that reached to do the same. 

“You come to me every weekend, quit the club, took care of my apartment, my bills, my-, well, basically my everything. You’re taking care of everything and I can’t even keep one promise I gave you, and it pains me so much. I swear it does.”

“It’s your duty.” You shook your head, not understanding where these words of support were coming from. He was right. 

He wasn’t keeping the only promise he promised to keep. 

But the rest - it was your choice, it was something you wanted to do for him. Because you loved Jaehyun, you fell in love with him and the feeling was whole-consuming and deep.

No, not in the past tense. It is. You still loved him the same. This tiny nuance couldn’t change a thing. 

It can’t. 

“I knew who you were when I let myself fall in love with you. I’m reaping what I’ve sown for myself. It wasn’t ever going to be easy. But I love you; love can endure all. Can’t it?”

“I am taking a vacation next month. Two weeks, okay? Pick anywhere you want to go in the whole wide world, and I’ll take you there. You won’t have to worry about a single thing. Just wake up in bed with me every morning and do everything your heart wishes for.”

“You can’t randomly leave the country. Not the special forces captain.” You chuckled for the first time this weekend and wiped your tears off his shoulder. 

“I’ll have to approve our destination with my commanding officer, but for the rest there won’t be an issue.”

“Are you sure?” You had no reason to doubt the man in front of you, but you also did. 

“I promise. We’re going on a holiday. Our first holiday together.” He leaned in and pressed his mouth against yours, making it a little bit easier in your chest to accept this whole thing. 

-

“Yuno?” Your voice trembled into the phone. You heard a bunch of noises on the other end of the line, but nothing much that you could match to your boyfriend’s voice or any words at all. 

“Baby.” His voice finally screeched through the line and you’d choked up on the tears trying to leave your eyes. “I’m okay.”

“I got an emergency alert on my phone about the border, and I've read the news that something happened, and I don't understand. What is going on?" You tried to contain yourself; you've talked about this with him before. 

In case of emergency, you have to not give in to panic. He's in a dangerous zone, but he's trained to work in emergency situations; you shouldn't worry about him and take care of yourself. He'll try to contact you the first chance he gets to let you know he's safe.

What bullshit it was, why would you care about yourself when he was clearly in danger. He didn’t pick up his phone for two hours and at this point it felt like your soul was leaving your body. 

Another great perk of being in a relationship with a military man is that in case of emergency, there's about zero chance anyone would tell if he's safe and where he is. It was really lucky Jaehyun actually had his phone by now. 

"It's okay. It's all good." He tried to calm you down, but the sounds overlapping with his voice signalled it was just a lie.

“Do you know what happened?”

"Some mess from the north, I don't know yet, I am only going to go there now for the night."

"Please, please, be safe." You cried on the phone. 

"I will, darling. I love you. I really do." He whispered into the phone. Why was he making it sound like a goodbye? He can’t be serious right now. It can’t be anything of actual danger to him. It can’t. 

"I love you too, Jae.” You whispered, unable to say anything else. Ask any questions. 

“I think I’m not coming to the city this weekend.” He sighed into the phone. 

“It’s okay, just please, be safe.”

“I will be. I have to go, I’ll get in contact when I get the chance. I love you.” He hung up before you could tell him how much you loved him too. 

-

His absence in the city on the weekend wasn't easy, worsened by the fact it was nearly impossible to talk to him in general. 

By what you were able to gather from the internet, there was a fire open near the border, descendants, and an interception, neutralised all within thirty minutes. You were finding it hard to understand why they were not letting go of the situation two weeks later.

Yes, you got that it was an emergency, illegal armed border crossing, but according to the uniformed man on the TV everything was perfect and taken care of. 

Somehow, Jaehyun’s been locked up at the base for weeks straight, his unit in full combat readiness. You barely heard his voice and that, adding up to the whole thing made it impossible for you to carry on with your regular life in the city. 

It was a happy call, when Jaehyun managed to call you from a landline phone, like he’d been in a dungeon with no connection, to tell you he managed to ask for a two hours of leave for tomorrow. If you could come see him - he’ll be happy to. 

Of course you could, of course you would come see him. That’s why right now you were watching the bus take the left turn to the bus station, messaging Jaehyun about your arrival right after. 

He was supposed to be free in thirty minutes, enough time for you to walk to the gates. 

“You’re here.” Jaehyun let a sigh out as you stepped out; making you so startled upon his presence. “I was given an extra hour, I figured I’ll come pick you up.” You stared at him paralysed. He hasn’t worn much his camouflage uniform with you, making your eyes ogle on his name tag and his rolled up sleeves. Hair noticeably shorter than the last time you’ve seen and touched him. “Come here.” Jaehyun pulled onto your wrist when a man tried to descend the bus and pushed into your back. 

“Are you okay?” You took his face in your arms, trying to see if anything at all changed. Your fingers trailed over his arms, tanner than they’ve been before and looked over his skin for a sign of any physical harm he might’ve endured in those weeks. 

“Baby, I’m all good.” Jaehyun chuckled, and took your hands in his instead. “I’m perfectly fine now that you’re here.” He guided your arms onto his shoulders and ran his fingers against your waist, leaving a kiss on your neck. “I missed you so fucking much. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you for almost a month.”

“Can you go back home next week?” Jaehyun pulled back, eyes uncertain. 

“I’m not sure, baby. Every morning they extend the emergency status.” He caressed your cheek apologetically, leaving a kiss over your forehead. 

“Should we go to the cafe?”

“One of my colleagues rents an apartment down the street.”

“You want us to go see him?”

“No.” Jaehyun shook his head with a chuckle. “I want to give you a very big, long, hug, and he’d told me the passcode.”

“Is he okay with us intervening like that?”

“Of course. He said as long as we don’t touch his bed we can do whatever.” 

“And what did you tell him we were going to do?” You chuckled, Jaehyun’s arm wrapping your shoulder to walk to the apartment. 

“Nothing, I said we’re both very intelligent and decent kids.”

“Did he believe you?”

“No.” Jaehyun laughed, giving you a side hug. 

-

“Can’t imagine getting up from under you in an hour.” Jaehyun ran his fingers against the sides of your neck, extending your neck to kiss your cheek.

“Have you ever imagined to quit this and get a different job?” You raised your head up and asked the question that bothered you for a little while. 

“No.” Jaehyun defended, eagerly. You could tell the question offended him, but you were way past tip-toeing about it. Maybe you should fight it out and come to some sort of piece of mind. “Never.”

“I understand.” You took a mental step back, not able to ruin the limited time you have in his arms. 

“I’m really sorry.” He tucked your head under his chin and shifted his legs, wrapping them more around yours. 

“I think I cried every day of this week because I miss you and can’t do a thing about it. People in jail get to get visitors, and you don’t. I haven’t even been to the place you spend all of your time at. Isn’t that unfair? Don’t you feel like it’s just a little unfair?” Jaehyun trailed your cheeks with his fingers like he could still see the tear stains over them. 

“I’m sorry, I really am sorry.”

“But it’s not even your fault, what are you sorry for?” 

“I should’ve known it’ll be difficult when I started it all.” You had to raise your head from his chest to see his eyes. It’s not like he was regretting dating you. He can’t be really saying that to you right now. 

“Despite the emergency status, you have your permit to leave the country for our trip, and we are going to spend two weeks like any normal couple would, and it'll all be better after that. We are just a little worn out by the schedule. But it doesn't mean I don't love you." You patted his clothed chest, forcing the words of your love into his chest.

“About that.” Jaehyun sighed so heavily, you slid to the back of the couch on your side and he’d turned on his, fingers taking your chin to look in your eyes. “The permit was taken back, because of everything that’s been happening. I’m not allowed to leave the country any longer for the meantime, and-.”

“It’s fine.” You even managed a smile out, covering the fingers holding your face. “I have a whole list of places I want to visit within the country. We could see what we both like-.” You blinked at him, understanding it all without him needing to say it. You weren’t going anywhere. He was declined the vacation at all. Jaehyun mouthed I’m sorry, but you’ve ignored it. What was the point of those words you couldn’t know any more. “It’s okay. We’ll do it next time, right? When you’re able to, we’ll have the best time together. I love you.” It felt a little like you were trying to convince yourself you did, so you stopped talking. Your mind was deceiving you, so much disappointment was hard to carry with your head held high.  

You leaned in and laid your lips atop of his; Jaehyun kissed you back, palms taking your head in their hold properly, as you leaned back into the backrest of the couch, Jaehyun took the lead of the kiss, leaning over you and pressing you down from above.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

“It is, I promise.” Jaehyun leaned back in, but you paused. 

I promise. He always says that. It never goes like he promises it will. 

You let him turn your neck to fit better under his lips, and he groaned against your skin. 

“Do you want to?” He asked, letting his palms wander lower, making your leg hook around his body. 

“When do you think I’ll see you next time?”

“If it was up to me, I wouldn’t make you leave in the first place.” Jaehyun’s palm ran up and down inner side of your thigh, making your arms cover with shivers. 

“Baby.” You murmured; you wanted an answer, not his sweet talking. 

"I don't know. No one knows. They should've lifted the emergency status last week; it's still on. Then they cut everyone's right to go on vacation for the foreseeable future. I don't have an answer, that's the honest truth.”

“Okay. Then I definitely do. I miss your touch.” You let his palms trail up your stomach, bunching up your shirt. His fingers burned against your skin and you forced all the uneasiness out of your head. 

He was your man, you loved him, you’d do anything to make him happy and content. You have to endure this one bit of difficulty to be back in the city together. He will, eventually, come back. You need to work on your patience to have your happy ever after. 

You undid the buttons on his combat shirt and pulled it down Jaehyun’s shoulders. He let you leave him in his plain black shirt. Your fingers went down to his belt and you’d pulled the tucked material up, when Jaehyun’s fingers caught yours. 

“What?” You looked puzzled at him, it’s not like he was shy for you to see his stomach. You did about a hundred times before, anyway. “What are you hiding?” You smirked, sneaking a palm blindly under his clothes. He tsked and took your palms back out. 

“Your fingers are freezing,” Jaehyun pinned your arms above your head and leaned his body down to your stomach, making a sloppy trail all the way down to your jeans. He expertly undid the button and pulled them down to your knees, his thigh getting back in between your legs to create friction. 

“Oh my god.” You whispered, as his digits sneaked over your chest, pulling the bra down. Jaehyun teased your nipple with his fingers and in combination with his leg and lips you felt like you were on fire. “I missed you.” You let out a hitch breath mid sentence. “I feel so lonely without you.” You spread your legs wider and Jaehyun pressed his legs harder, and your hips moved against his pants and you moaned into his shoulder. Unable to do anything else, you gripped onto his shoulder and let him take care of you. 

He let go of your nipple to grab onto your ass, trying to imprint each of his fingers into your skin. Jaehyun’s mouth met yours then, and you let your tongue slide against his lips, until he’d granted you access and stuck your tongue into his mouth, sloppily kissing his mouth. 

Jaehyun moved his grip, and now his hand ended up before his thigh, and in less than a second he’d pulled your underwear aside and smothered his fingers in your slickness. You’d taken a sharp inhale as he moved his fingers to your hole and pumped them in and out of you with much determination. 

You found his belt blindly once more, this time undoing it. 

You sneaked your hand down into his pants and he’d made another displeased sound with his mouth. “Are you okay?” He asked like it wasn’t you who needed to ask that. 

“Perfectly.”

“Why are you so cold?” You were sure your palms were warming up mid action. You had no idea why you were freezing, or maybe you did. You’ve been so nervous and anxious the whole time, your limbs went cold. 

“Give me five minutes, I’ll warm my hands up.” You smiled, stroking his length in your hand. The warmth and weight of his cock felt so good against your palm. You missed that so much. You missed his digits sliding in and out of you. You missed the feeling of his cock pulsing inside of your throbbing heat with no barrier. 

“Love you so fucking much.” Jaehyun panted into your neck, as you pulled the zipper down and properly took his length out of the restraining clothes. Your hands covered his cock to give it double pressure as you stroked him, watching the tip get pink and glistening. You could only ever want it in your mouth when you see it. “When I get home I want you.” 

“You’re not home, do you not want me?”

“You know what I mean.” Jaehyun licked his lips. 

You raised up on your knees, making Jaehyun let go of your body and scoot to the side, so you’d have more space to sit. You made him raise his hips up and let you pull all of the fabric down his legs. As you did so, your head leaned to his tip and your hands rearranged the grip over him and you’d giving him a lick, getting a very long fuck out of Jaehyun’s mouth. 

You sat on your folded legs and let one of the palms leave his length for support of your weight and took more of him into your mouth. Jaehyun was always quick with finding ways to give you pleasure, so now also he found a way to sneak his fingers between your legs and against your clit. 

You took more of him into your mouth, swallowing the spit and pre-cum and mixed on your tongue, lowering properly on his length. You’d raised your hips from your legs to get the better angle and bob your head rhythmically on him, when you head him move; next thing you felt was his tongue against your perked up ass and sliding right into your heat. 

You couldn’t even imagine how he reached it, given all of the circumstances, but he did, an arm angling you better so his tongue would be able to slide up and down your sensitive bud. 

It felt straight up from an adult movie, having sex on the couch of his colleagues’ apartment, giving each other pleasure with your mouths at the same time. It felt nasty, but it also felt so fucking good. You couldn’t keep your moans inside, couldn’t stop humming and gasping mouth full of his cock. Couldn’t stop yourself from reaching your ass back so he’d be able to get his tongue further, do more with his tongue. And his tongue was capable of so much. So much it was hard for you to comprehend that a human muscle moved like that.  

“We need to stop.” You moved away from his cock, but your palms were still stroking his length. 

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun pulled on your shoulder to see your face, eyes full of concern, but you couldn’t focus on that. Not when his mouth was glistening like that. 

“I mean you have to go back soon, we can only do this once, and I want to feel you inside.” You leaned to Jaehyun’s face, making him lay back down on his back, swiping your tongue against his lips and kissing him next. 

“You mean so much to me.” Jaehyun took your thigh once more and wrapped over his waist. He guided you to lay on your side next to him and you’d hugged his neck, pulling him close. Jaehyun took his length in his grip and with a couple of strokes pressed himself into you, swiping his cock against your folds. You spread your legs wider to feel him better; to get him covered in all of you before he sunk in. He’d teased enough, lowering down to your entrance and gave it a few strokes of his member, before he let him slip inside by an inch, and then pull out. He’d done the same thing once more and by the third time your thigh hooked over his waist didn’t let him pull out. He’d stayed caged and got the clue to slip in further. 

As he did, your mouth pressed against Jaehyun’s, you’d gasped and he let a grunt out as he slipped further, and with next motion fully slipping in you’d kissed his lips, gasping for air when he pulled out and began slow stroking of your insides with his length. 

He’d picked up the pace faster than you expected, and in no time you were grunting into each other’s mouths, nasty sound of skin slapping against skin and the couch legs fighting the wish to move from its spot. 

“What do you want me to do?” Jaehyun licked your dried out lips. 

“What do you mean?” You took his face in your hold, confused. 

“I can cum somewhere else if you want to.” 

“No, don’t, it’s okay.” You pulled him in closer and with a few deeper thrusts Jaehyun shuddered and loaded his seed inside of you. 

You followed suit as soon as his fingers rubbed your clit, making your heart wrench. 

“If I tell him we had to use the shower, he’s definitely going to know what was up.” Jaehyun chuckled to himself. 

“You’re going to shower?”

“I thought you would go? I just came inside of you, you don’t like the stickiness.” Jaehyun rubbed his palm against your arm and then wrapped it around his clothed chest. 

“I’m going to take a piece of you back home.” You pecked his mouth and asked non-verbally to help you put your undies back on. Jaehyun obeyed, letting you drop back next to him on your knees. 

You looked over at him once again, concerned all of a sudden with the shirt’s presence on his skin. Jaehyun never liked a shirt on, was first to pull it off his body. You patted his chest and leaned in for a kiss, taking his attention to your mouth. You took the hem of the shirt in your fist and lifted it up all the way to his peck in one swift motion and pulled back. 

Jaehyun closed his eyes in defeat and before you saw what it was you imagined the worst. 

But somehow what was before you looked even worse. 

“What is that?”

“I’m okay, baby. It’s nothing.” He’d taken your hand in his and tried to cover up once more. 

“Why did you lie?” You pulled the material back up and ran the phantom of your fingers over his bruised skin. “Does it hurt?” 

“No, not anymore.” He took your hand in his and sat up. “I’m not lying, I’m all good. If it hurt I would’ve busted myself like an hour ago.”

“What happened?” 

“I don’t want you to know. You’ll begin to imagine all sorts of things could happen to me here.”

“Because they seemingly can. What happened?” You pressed and pulled the shirt even higher to see if there was anything else there. 

“I was in a car that slid down a small hill, nothing serious. ” He said slowly, watching your face for a reaction. “I was in the back next to a box of ammo and when we flipped down the hill the box hit me a few times.”

“What.” You looked him dead in the eye. Was that a made up story? A joke?

“The road was a sheet of ice in the night and the driver lost control and got us in an accident.” Jaehyun said it differently. 

“Oh my god.” You hugged his shoulders, face tucked into his neck. “All this time I fear you’re going to get shot or something worse, but you’re able to get on the verge of death by a car accident.” You blinked at him. “Jaehyun.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. We can’t see each other properly and barely talk right now, and now you’ve seen the bruise and heard the story and will worry yourself more. I didn’t want to tell you because I wanted to keep your head from that.”

“Can’t you quit?” You felt the tears up in your eyes once more. “I’d be the happiest if you just quit.”

He caressed your back to calm you down, but it didn’t help much. It just couldn’t. 

It’s been a month since you last saw Yuno. 

It was your decision not to see him. He had a couple of chances to see you spontaneously for an hour or two, but your answer was always I can’t leave the city right now. 

You managed to dodge him last weekend, when he’d messaged you Friday morning he’s free to come, you replied back with oh my god baby, that’s amazing news, but I’m out of town with lawyer Kim for our case. 

You managed to dodge him just this past weekends too, when you promised to come see him, but your car broke down and there was no tickets for the bus, until it was too late for him to even consider going to you himself. 

The worst part of it all was the fact he wasn’t understanding what you were doing. He was so oblivious to your weak reasons to not see him, to not talk to him, to not call back. You cut by half all of your communication, and despite very gentle did I hurt you? did I do something wrong? are you mad at me? it seemed he didn’t catch up on what was going on. Or maybe he did, given he’d not asked you about the upcoming weekend. Maybe he knew what was going on and agreed with you on that decision. 

It probably was a good thing, he was giving you and himself time to get used to being apart. To get used to not be together, so once he comes back home and sees your message - he understands it all. 

Jaehyun couldn't remember when was the last time he was this excited to leave his stupid job. Probably, not ever since that next weekend after you’d agreed to be his girlfriend. 

He was seeping with excitement, happy to return to you the happy sentiment of a surprise visit. Life’s been even more though on you two lately, not letting you see each other for another month, but not anymore. He was successful with keeping it secret that he was finally given a proper vacation. 

First thing back, he’d went to his apartment. Back in the sock drawer of his wardrobe he kept another one of his surprises hidden from you and it’s been months since he got it.

It felt like it was the right time to let you know how he felt about you. No more uncertainty, no more tears, no more pain in your eyes when he had to leave you. 

He’d planned in his head how he’d change to his civilian clothes, opting for a pair of black jeans and a classic shirt, how he’d leave all of his belongings there and run to you. To see the girl he love so much. 

Jaehyun walked into his apartment with lifted spirits, that is until he’d reached his bedroom and saw a very bright pink post-it on his bed. First thought that ran through his mind was you. You spent at his place without him, left behind something from your lawyer papers probably and he’d picked it up to give it to you tonight, when his eyes focused on it to read. 

A lot of scribbling but he still managed read the whole thing. 

We have to brake up

I can’t do this any longer

I can’t be your weekend duty my whole life

I love you 

I’m sorry, Yuno

Jaehyun let the piece of paper drop to his feet and ran through his apartment inspecting; your clothes were gone; your toothbrush - nowhere to be seen. All of you was gone, safe for that stupid pink devilish creation. 

He’d taken the box out of the socks drawer and left his apartment immediately. It was the weekend, morning; where else could you be if not home? That’s where he went to, fuming, burning. Angry, not understanding what was the reason. Why were you breaking up with him? Was he wrong about something? Did he hurt you? Yes, you’ve been a little distant because of everything that’s happened, but it all happened against his or yours will. It was not something Jaehyun imagined to be a reason for you to dump him. You’ve said yourself love can endure all. Because you loved him, you were ready to wait until it all became alright once more. 

It can’t be the change of your heart - he’d seen I love you crossed out by a million lines written on that piece of paper. You wrote it, you love him.  

It was you who noticed Jaehyun first not far from your building’s entrance, and that sudden meeting made you freeze in place. You were leaving the cafe next door, and he was clearly heading to your apartment. 

You thought you outplayed him and somehow he was outplaying you now, heading to you. Oblivious to what awaited him at his home? Or full aware? Given he was wearing civilian clothes he’s been home before, but it was hard to read his face expression from the distance and thus you had no clue what was the intention of that visit. You watched him approach the door fully convinced he won’t waver his gaze anywhere else and pass you unknowingly, but as he turned to the door his head turned in a different direction and you’d seen his face get as astonished at the sudden meeting as yours two minutes ago. 

You’d averted your gaze, but it was clearly too late and he’d changed the trajectory of his walk, coming to you. 

“No.” You shook your head before he could open his mouth.

“Hi.” Jaehyun blinked at you. You were expecting a confrontation, but he’d greeted you and went quiet. 

“Hi.” You replied, looking at him confused. 

“We aren’t doing this.” Jaehyun licked his lips and took a step closer to you. “You’re not my weekend duty.”

“Jae, please, this is not a convenient moment.” You gestured to the cafe behind you and weren’t allowed to say anything else by the man in front of you. 

“Fuck convenience, our life is on the line. I know it’s been a whole fucking mess these past weeks, but here.” Jaehyun reached for his pocket and before he opened his mouth once more he showed a small jewellery box to you. 

“No.” You stepped back, panicking. He wasn’t about to do something so stupid. “Where did you even manage to get that?” If he was back for an hour or so, how was that possible?

“I had it for months. When you know, you just know. I don’t need ten years to decide. I knew how I wanted this to go month in.” He reached his hand out to yours, but you pulled back. No. No. You were not gonna say yes to that, when it was not changing a single thing between you it was marrying to make things even worse.

“Jaehyun, no.” you shook your hands in front of the box. “Stop.” He ignored your protesting, trying to get on one knee, the levels of panic spiked in your system, you grabbed onto his arms, stopping him.

“Jaehyun, no. I won’t marry you. Don’t embarrass yourself.” You could only choke on your own words. It was so fucking heart wrenching to see hurt in his eyes grow by a minute. 

“Why?” He grumbled. 

“I can’t.” It’s not going to change a thing, how can’t he see that. 

“Why?” He pressed, more sternly this time. 

“I broke up with you.” 

“That’s stupid. You didn’t, that piece of paper can’t be a real brake up. We were fine. No; we were good. We were amazing.” Jaehyun stepped closer to you once more, fighting the wish to raise his voice by an octave. 

“I can’t marry a man that’s eighty percent of the time absent from my life.” 

“That is not for forever!” He blew up. 

“Now it feels like it is!” It was only fair you did also. 

“Okay, we can go, I’m sorry-.” Your company finally made it out of the cafe and you looked at him, same for Jaehyun. “Is something wrong?” He looked at you and you blew air out of your noise. 

“No. I don’t know this man. We can go.” You glanced at Jaehyun and with a little shake of your head in disapproval walked past him.  

You’d taken about two steps away from Jaehyun, trying to calm your heart down, when his fingers wrapped your upper arm, dragging you back, to look at him. 

“How long has this been going on for?” Your first intention was asking him what the hell was he even meaning, but you’d seen his eyes drag behind you and you fell lost for words. 

He can’t possibly be serious. 

“Wow, sir, back off. What the hell do you want from her?” The man beside you stepped in, but Jaehyun completely ignored his existence. What was he even looking at you like this for? 

"How long have you been fucking this guy behind my back?” You would’ve rather been pushed on the ground than hear him say these words out loud. 

"Are you insane?"  

"Look me in the eyes and say he's not the reason you stopped coming to see me." you stepped in closer, eyes wide open to look Jaehyun in the eyes. 

"He's not. The only reason is your stupid job."

"You knew what my job was when you chose to be with me.” Jaehyun looked at you, boiling with rage, it seemed, but you were the only one allowed to be fuming. He threw a scene and accused you of something that never happened. He was… insane! Wanting you to marry him and accusing you of cheating all in a span of ten minutes is in a capability of a real mad man. 

"Because you always lied how it was about to be over! It's been over a year, Jaehyun! You promised to be back in four months!" you screamed, but then realised who was watching you and put in all of your strength to calm yourself down. "I never signed up to be in a distance relationship. I can’t do it like this. This is the end of the story.”

"I'm sorry, old sport." Your company pushed Jaehyun’s hand off your arm and tried to lead you away. 

The very next moment poor man ended up bent in half, cries of pain leaving his mouth. You gasped, arms covering your mouth in shock.  

"That is my girlfriend, you fucking dickhead and you better leave before I snap your fucking bones!" 

"What is wrong with you?" you slapped Jaehyun’s chest. He’s never been angry like that, never were violent, at all. Who was this? What the hell was going on?

"Talk to me.” Jaehyun demanded. “I know, it has not been perfect lately. But we can’t be flawless, all the flaws are the parts of our love.”

“Jaehyun, please. I have nothing to tell you, especially when you act like this! I already told you everything I had to say.”

“Really? So you have not an ounce of shame after all.” Jaehyun let go of the man and you let a sigh out, at least he was not going further with threatening a fucking lawyer.

“You-.” You chocked, because you didn’t want to answer to him any longer, what you were doing and who you were with is none of his business any longer. “This is Lawyer Kim.” You hissed and found no satisfaction in the way his stare crumbled defeated. He’d taken a step back from the man but found it unnecessary to apologise, it seemed. “He helps me with my case and now for what you’ve done I’ll completely understand if Lawyer Kim stops working with me! You-, I can’t even tell you what I truly think of you right now. Get lost, I mean it.”

“One minute, please. Don’t you think I deserve a minute? After the time we spent together?” You contemplated, if a minute would make him leave, then okay. Let it me a minute.

You excused yourself to Lawyer Kim and took a step back. Jaehyun followed.

“Do I not get a say in this? Get a second chance? The love you bring into my life is everything to me. I know we’re physically apart, but we are close. We are close, I love you. Nothing has changed.” Jaehyun pleaded, clutching his hands before him. The desperation in his voice made it harder for you to be honest. You still had to. 

“I realised that I’ll always be number two, okay? Always. There won’t be a matter in life where I’ll come first, because duty always comes first.” Your eyes fluttered and you managed to focus them on Jaehyun. “I couldn’t say it to your face, now I did anyway, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It doesn’t mean I moved on!” You felt your voice raise and took a second to calm down. “You are to be mad at me, I agree, this is some high-school girl way of breaking up by leaving a post-it on your bed. But I need more than everything you’re able to give.” Jaehyun’s mouth opened and you had to raise your palm up to stop him. “Not because you’re not enough, because your occupation doesn’t allow you to.”

“Can we talk, please, somewhere without the stares of your colleague?” Jaehyun glanced behind himself. “I’m sorry for what I did just now, I’m not like this. You know it-.”

“No. His presence is the perfect opportunity for me to be collected. I’m sorry, Yuno. I really am, I wasn’t build to be the obedient wife waiting for her husband to return from war and it seems I’ll never be.” It’s been too long since you figured it all out for yourself and was too scared to admit it to his face. 

“I’m not-.”

“You know what I meant.” 

“You love me, but can’t be with me. That’s… great. Definitely makes it easier for me to accept this.” Jaehyun’s gaze defocused and his face crumbled defeated; nothing but pain and realisation he can’t do anything about this settling over his features. You knew this feeling all too well. This is how you felt this whole time, not having a say in anything. Not having an opportunity to influence what was happening. 

“I have to interrupt, we’re fifteen minutes late already.” Lawyer Kim cleared his voice behind you and you nodded, looking back at the man. 

“Right, right. I’m so sorry, lawyer Kim. Thirty seconds.”

“Good luck, Yuno. Sincerely, I wish you well. The ring is beautiful and I’m sure the woman that will be strong enough to endure all the nuances of your life will wear it proudly.” You pursed your lips and squeezed his fist that still held the box. “And thank you for serving our country, always.” You held on to his fist to lean in and kiss his cheek, sucking up all the heartbreak and leaving him to stand there. You smiled at lawyer Kim as he’d led you to his car. 

You had to throw away all of the thoughts about Jaehyun and proceed with bidding your sincerest apologies to the man that’s driving you to your client. 

Epilogue  

You were rushing through the street to mean your client. You hated to come right on time as much as being late, because it meant you could possibly coming later than your client and won’t have a few minutes to get your brains together. There was only one parking spot way too far down the street and you were running all the way back to the cafe you were supposed to meet him. 

Thankfully, the man seemingly was also being late, because when you entered the cafe he was nowhere to be seen. You let the hostess know the name the table was booked under and made yourself comfortable on the chair. 

You ordered yourself a cup of tea and spread your papers and a few questions you had prepared for the man in your notebook. 

“I’m so sorry for being late.” The man rushed in, startling you from the papers. You raised your head to assure him it was nothing, but the smile died down as soon as you saw his attire. “I haven’t mentioned my occupation, did I.” He chuckled, and you finally found your manners to stand up and shake his hand in greeting. 

“It doesn’t make any difference for our case, it’s okay.” You shook your head, and gestured for him to take the seat in front of you. 

“I hope it was okay for me to ask you come here. Could only make it out for lunch.”

“No, no. It’s all good, Mr. Lee. As long as we proceed with our case, I’m good to come anywhere.” You smiled politely and let the man place his order as the waitress approached the table, before getting to your job.

“You should order some food too.” He’d suggested, but your head shook a no. You couldn’t  digest any food now. Not after you’d seen who he worked as and your brain went elsewhere. 

“Special forces?” You managed to ask, gesturing to his chest. 

“It is.” He gave you a little pleased bow. “How’d you know?” 

“That patch,” you showed the one you meant with your fingers on the same area on your chest. “is engraved in my brain.” You let an awkward chuckle out. “My close friend also served there.”

“Really?” He asked pleased. “Then I guess it was some sort of destiny for you to be my lawyer.” He smiled and you nodded, agreeing. 

Right, it was time to get to business. You gathered your pen and notebook before you to start off. 

“Which way are you going?” Mr. Lee asked you politely. 

“Ah, there,” you gestured to the left. “There’s a real problem with parking spots on this street. Had to park like ten minutes away from him.”

“Yes, that’s true, unfortunately. We don’t have a parking lot, so everyone who works at the building parks here.”

“Oh, this is the street?” You asked surprised. You didn’t know. So this is where Jaehyun would’ve worked, if he ever managed to keep his promise of returning to the city…?

“It is, also to the left. If you don’t mind, I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Of course.” You pursed your lips and you’d proceeding with your polite conversation all the way up to your car. 

“I guess I depart here.” You looked at the man politely. 

“Me too.” He gestured to the building and you focused your eyes right at the entrance of it. There wasn’t any specific plate saying what the building was and it made sense, it was never disclosed to public for security reasons. “I didn’t say a thing.” The man chuckled and you bid your farewell, unlocking your car and opening the door. 

You heard a group of people leave the building the same time your client walked up the stair and you raised your head to see them all salute the man, referring to him as colonel Lee. 

You smiled to yourself and went back to sitting down in your car, as your eyes fell on Jaehyun. His gaze like magnetised already was on you. 

You first thought of immediately jumping in the car and running away, but you couldn’t. He stared at you, then quickly ran down the stairs to you. 

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” 

“They’re not.” You fumbled with your fingers, unable to look him in the eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I was transferred back to the city, like I told you I would be.” you raised your eyes at him. 

Why didn’t you call me, then? You didn’t want to see me after what I’ve done to us? You should’ve told me you were here. 

“Really?” Your pulse immediately quickened. 

“Mmh. When that extension ended, they finally let me return because I spent too much time on that special duty. Even got myself a major rank.” He patted his shoulder and you’ve noticed the difference in number stripes only then. He was down to one. 

“That’s great. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He blinked. “You’re the lawyer colonel Lee talked about?” You nodded. “Can’t imagine what sort of inquiry he must have.” Jaehyun chuckled, awkwardly and looked you in the eyes. You could tell Jaehyun spent much more time inside just by looking at his pale face. His hair looked much longer and you guessed now that he was working like a normal human there was no point in following certain rules he had to before.  

“I can’t disclose-.” 

“I know, I know. I’m not asking.” Jaehyun trying to reassure you he didn’t. 

“Well, I guess it was good to see you, Yuno.” You smiled, sensing the awkwardness settling between you two. 

“Was it?” He turned his head a little to the side like a puppy. He was still very cute, it seemed. Horrible observation. 

“Why would it not be?” You forced a smile onto your lips. 

“Do you, maybe, want to see me sometime again?” He blinked, what felt like ready for any answer you could give him. 

“What for…?” You tried to not sound too harsh. 

“For a lunch? Or dinner, doesn’t matter much.” He shrugged and looked you up, all the way down to your shoes and up to your eyes. You could tell he knew you saw that, but wasn’t really bothered by the fact. 

“Would that be a good idea?” You held in a smirk by a bite to your lower lip. 

“Of course? I have so much free time nowadays. Much more than I’ve ever had.” He looked at you and ran his tongue over his over teeth. 

“I’m happy for you.” You let out, swallowing whatever might’ve come out next. 

“It only matters if the feeling is sincere.” Jaehyun took a step closer. 

“It is, no doubt about it.” 

“Good, then I’ll text you and we’ll see what we can do about it, deal?” He grabbed onto the open door of your car next your fingers and you nodded. 

“Deal.”

i pushed those 25k words out of me like a baby for his bd lol

let me know your thoughts!!!

I couldn't let the ending be sad on Jaehyun's bd so I had to urgently add in an epilogue

I hope everyone caught on how he was Yuno in the narration until she guessed his name😉😊😉😊😉

see you all soon

As the new social season approaches, your rising anxiety increases tenfold.

It has been four years since you were introduced to society, which is deemed far too long to be unwed for a lady like yourself. Your mother is nearly chewing her own arm off in anticipation of you finding a husband. She definitely would have married you off to the first gentleman caller by now, but luckily for you, your father refuses to tie you to another man unless you provide your stamp of approval. He possesses a soft spot for his only child that your mother never understood.

Unfortunately, the pool of suitors is extremely lacking, forcing you to pass by season after season with no husband in sight.

“Perhaps this year will be different,” Yerim coos. “They say Mrs. Kim’s son is particularly eye-catching.”

“He’s also a right bore,” you grumble, locking your arms together as you stroll into Mrs. Kim’s soirée. You’ve heard many tales of her son, Doyoung, and how he’s finally ready to settle down and take a wife. However, you also heard he is unwilling to sit for a conversation for more than an hour, and how his expectations for his wife are skyrocketing through the roof. “Maybe I shall just put him out of his misery and marry Lee Donghyuck.”

She struggles to conceal her laughter. “I would love to see that.”

The night carries on as expected, with you and Yerim spending your time near the wall while the other ladies dance around the floor. You deny multiple requests for your hand, conjuring up excuses of a strained ankle or an upset stomach.

It is not until the end of the night when you are confronted with your lie.

“A poor tummy, hm? Perhaps you should have stayed home in case you heave all over Mrs. Kim’s beautiful floor,” Jeong Jaehyun says as he approaches you.

You roll your eyes. “I imagine you find it quite hard to mind your own business, Lord Jeong. I would rather not be subject to hearing your grating voice if it is not deemed necessary.”

Out of all the gentlemen in the ton, Jeong Jaehyun is the one who has stooped low enough to classify himself as a proper rake. A man who preys on the hearts of women and lacks commitment — a rake is not a man that a lady would ever want to associate herself with. They do not take the concept of marriage seriously, and you shall likely find them in the bed of another woman before they grace your own.

Jaehyun smirks at you in the way he knows will dig underneath your skin. He has been out in society just as long as you have, and every year, he never fails to irritate you to no end.

“No luck for you tonight? Tell me, what could possibly be wrong with the wonderful men gracing this room? How have they wronged you so that you have denied every single one of them?”

You try to look for an escape, but Yerim has already made an early departure and the rest of the ladies refuse to mingle with you in fear of also being dubbed as a lonely spinster.

“I did not know you were paying attention to me so ardently,” you bite back, and this has Jaehyun’s ears blooming bright red. You smile in satisfaction.

“I-I was not doing anything of t-the sort,” he stutters. “It is simply hard not to notice when you are the only lady actively rejecting possible suitors. If you really want to drive them away, you should just open your mouth and talk to them. That shall have them running for the hills.”

You narrow your eyes and wonder how much of a scolding you shall receive from your mother if you threw your drink in his face. He guesses what you must be thinking, cupping his hand over your glass and handing it to a nearby staff member.

He continues, stepping closer into your personal space. “Soon enough, the only ones who will be left in this ballroom will be me and you.”

“I loathe the day,” you hiss. “It would personally be my worst nightmare.”

He winks at you. “Trust me, you shall not find a gentleman better than me.”

You hear someone clearing their throat and you both glance over to see Kim Doyoung standing in front of you. You immediately drop to a curtsy at his presence, and you hear Jaehyun scoff at the fact that you did not grant him the same etiquette.

“I hope I am not interrupting, Miss,” Doyoung says.

“Of course not, Lord Kim,” you reply. “Lord Jeong was just telling me how he plans to retire early for the night.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow at you and you return his bewildered expression with a heated glare. You would be very content if he made himself useful somewhere else, likely with his hands underneath another maiden’s dress.

“Yes, it seems I have another obligation to head to for the night,” Jaehyun says through gritted teeth, displeased by your dismissal of him. “I shall thank your mother for being a spectacular host before my leave, Lord Kim.”

Doyoung nods once. “It would be much appreciated. Thank you, Lord Jeong.”

Jaehyun departs with one more scathing look thrown your way. You grin to yourself, happy to be rid of his presence, until Doyoung starts speaking and ruins your night.

“I have heard from your mother that you are in search of a husband. I find myself in a similar boat, and I would much enjoy it if you were to accept my offer for tea tomorrow afternoon.”

You could say no. It would not be hard to make up another excuse, but your mother would be absolutely livid to discover you have turned down an offer from Doyoung, especially after she practically handed him to you on a silver platter.

One afternoon of tea shall not kill you.

“That sounds lovely. I look forward to our discussion.”

When you turn to beeline for the exit, you catch a pair of eyes peering over at you, and you swear you see a flash of Jaehyun’s hair before he disappears into the crowd.

Hm. You must be seeing things.

—

Your mother acts as if afternoon tea with Doyoung equates to an audience with the king.

She dresses you in a gown she brings out for special occasions and has your handmaidens spray perfume on you until you are drowning in the floral scent. When she accompanies you to the tea parlor, she lists out your annoying habits that you should try to avoid.

You were not made aware that you possessed so many.

“And the way you look at him, darling, it is extremely unflattering. He can tell you hate him by the way you desire to burn him alive with your gaze. Stare at him with conviction. Make his loins stir from one simple glance at you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Mother, I shall say that I find this advice to be highly unhelpful.”

She growls at you. “You are nearly four and twenty without a single acceptance for a suitor’s hand in marriage. You shall adhere to any advice I am willing to offer you.”

Doyoung helps take out your chair like a gentleman, and you thank him while your mother sits one table behind you, eavesdropping on your conversation.

He cuts straight to the chase. “What traits do you envision for your future husband to possess?”

Your grip tightens around your teacup. You wonder what to say to ward him off, to get him to move onto the next lady.

“A man who will let me maintain my own hobbies and interests. I want to have children on my own time, not on the timeline my husband sets for me,” you answer, knowing that it is not the typical response a lady of your breeding is supposed to say. You are supposed to submit to your husband’s preferences instead of prioritizing your own. “I ask that he respects my wishes and swears his loyalty to me. I will not, in any circumstances, marry a rake.”

“This one is all bark and no bite, Doyoung. I would not take her threats to heart.”

You clench your jaw when Jaehyun approaches your table with a wide smirk on his face. He appears to be dressed for tea as well, but you see no partner by his side to accompany him. He must be here simply to intervene in your meeting with Doyoung.

“Lord Jeong,” you greet in clear distaste. “I was not aware you had been frequenting tea parlors as of late.”

“Ah, you must not be enlightened of my many passions then,” he replies with a cheeky smile. You resist the urge to slap it off of his face. “The madam who runs this shop has a fond affection for me. I always like to drop by and grab a free pastry.”

“How kind of you to take from the hard work of the common people at no charge,” you challenge with the tilt of your head.

Doyoung clears his throat when he senses the tension between you and Jaehyun rising with every scathing remark. You glance back to see your mother staring at you in abhorrence, and you quickly straighten your posture and adjust your tone.

“I apologize, Lord Jeong. I have been enjoying my time with Lord Kim. I am certain you have somewhere else you need to be.”

Jaehyun, to your chagrin, pulls up a chair. “Actually, my schedule is wide open for the day. I would love to join you.”

Doyoung stares at you, wordlessly asking if this is normal behavior, but you are too pissed off to respond. If Jaehyun wanted to cause a scene, he could have done so when you are not trying to prove to your mother that you still care about searching for a husband.

Your fingernails dig into the corner of the table and you lean forward to hiss at Jaehyun.

“Are you positive you have nowhere else to be?”

He smiles. “Absolutely. Now, catch me up on what you two were discussing. I would love to throw my hat into the conversation.”

Evidently, you and Doyoung have yet to be on the same wavelength for what you should and should not bring up in front of Jaehyun.

“I was asking her what she looks for in her future spouse.”

Jaehyun turns to you with a smirk. “Oh, is that so? Well, please, do not silence yourself on my behalf. I would love to hear the answer.”

“I already gave it to him,” you say in exasperation. “Maybe we should turn the tables on you. What does a rake like Jeong Jaehyun look for in a wife? Likely one that easily spreads her legs?”

You hear a gasp from behind you, and you know it is your mother’s shock at your candor. But you shall not allow Jaehyun to get the better of you and humiliate you in front of Doyoung. You hardly care if this statement will earn you a reputation for your crass nature.

The corner of Jaehyun’s lips twitches in amusement, only fueling fire to your flame.

“I would like for my wife to challenge me. It is not as fun when they comply with my every demand,” he says, and you fail to realize how the distance between you has closed in your heated spat. “I like a lady who knows how to speak up for herself, to voice her thoughts without concern for anyone else’s feelings.”

You scoff. Where in the world is Jaehyun going to find a lady like that?

“Good luck with your search, Lord Jeong. I have conviction that there is at least one lady out there who is meant to be with you.”

“I really should be going,” Doyoung says, standing and nearly toppling over the table.

You glance up at him in alarm. “Oh, I am sorry, Lord Kim. Let me just gather my things and-”

“No need, Miss. It must have slipped my mind that my mother asked for my presence back at home. I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

He scurries out of the tea parlor as if the place had been set to flames. You stare after him with your jaw dropped, offended by his poor excuse to leave you behind.

You growl at Jaehyun. “Oh, you have seriously done it now, Jeong.”

“Come on. Do not tell me you were actually considering that man to be your husband.”

Your mother’s figure looms over you and you shyly look up to meet her judgmental gaze head on.

“I believe it is time for us to return home. We hope you have a wonderful evening, Lord Jeong.”

You’re dragged away by the crook of your arm, glaring at Jaehyun while your mother dishes out the biggest scolding you have ever received in your life.

—

“Your mother has brought me a proposal that I think may be in your favor.”

Your father is hesitant when he enters your study, catching you reading books by the fire. It is often the pastime you favor when your mother is upset with you, which has become more frequent in the past year. Your father is the one who searches out for you to try and talk you down, amending your qualms with your mother for a harmonious household.

“I shall not marry Kim Doyoung, father,” you say with the shake of your head. “He embarrassed me in front of the entire ton today! I will not be able to stave away the mortification for days.”

He sits next to you on the chaise lounge and looks at you solemnly.

“I have not come to converse about Kim Doyoung. I am speaking about Jeong Jaehyun.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What does Lord Jeong have to do with this? He is the reason why Lord Kim fled from me in the first place.”

Your father wrings his hands around nervously, and you speculate on what has him so antsy. He is usually very candid with you about your behavior, which means you must have crossed a hard line if he’s withholding information from you.

“Lord Jeong’s mother came around this afternoon after your incident at the tea parlor. She thinks her son is acting far too reckless and wants him to settle down. She is considering sending him to his uncle’s house in the country if he does not start listening to her wishes.”

“That does not sound like a bad idea,” you reply with a giggle.

He offers you a strained smile. “Yes, your mother was thinking the same thing. Except she was imagining it for you.”

You leap out of your seat. He must be lying. Your mother cannot possibly be entertaining the idea of shipping you off to her brother’s house. He lives on acres and acres of land without a soul in sight except for the farm animals he cares for.

It would be your absolute nightmare.

“Father, please tell me you objected to this,” you plead, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach.

“Of course I did, darling,” he sighs, assuring you. “But then your mother and Lord Jeong’s came to an agreement that I could not oppose. I saved you from being shipped off, but in a few months’ time, you shall find yourself married to Jeong Jaehyun.”

You gasp. “F-Father, you cannot! You promised that I would get the final approval!”

He takes your hands in his and pulls you back towards his side. You are trembling at the picture of you and Jaehyun living as husband and wife. You would fight everyday and drive yourselves into a haze of madness.

“Darling, there shall never ever be a man good enough for you. I knew it from the day you were born, but your mother’s insistence on this matter has forced my hand. I think Jaehyun is a fine young man. You may not grow to love him, but he shall never put you in harm’s way. It is the most important quality a father can ask of his son-in-law.”

You start to tear up. “Please, father. Do not do this. Do not make me marry him.”

He pities you. “We shall start slow, darling. He shall be your escort to Mrs. Park’s upcoming ball and we shall ease into announcing your engagement. If he does anything untoward or compromises your virtue, I swear to you I shall back out of this deal.”

“But why can you not back out now?” You whine, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. “Why can you not save me now?”

He winces as if your pain physically brings him harm. You understand your father has bailed you out of your mother’s many propositions before, but you honestly cannot let this one slip through. Jaehyun is the exact opposite of who you envision yourself marrying.

He has to be just as horrified by this proposal as you are. You have no doubt he’s sitting in a similar situation to you, arguing with his mother over her ultimate decision to alter the course of his life. This must be the first agreement you have landed on in history.

“You shall not realize it now, but I am saving you from a lifetime of heartache, trust me.”

You spend the rest of the night weeping in your bedchamber, burdened by Jaehyun’s constant overbearing presence in your life. You think back on all of the memories you have of him, and if this changes the way you feel about your inevitable coupling.

—

When you first met Jaehyun, it had been your first season out in society. You were optimistic back then, drinking in the fairytales of finding your one true love at your first ball.

You were not the only one jaded by love as many of the other ladies your age had fantasized about their first ball as an eligible lady for years. You would gossip to each other while promenading around the veranda, dreaming of the young bachelor who would swoop you up in his arms and make all your dreams come true.

You had known a few of the men from growing up with them as noble families. They were usually brothers of your closest friends, and your nose would twist in disgust at the thought of being courted by them. You were stubborn about your choice in a husband even back then.

Jaehyun had been the talk of the town that year. He already made an impression on the older ladies, winning them to his side with his dimples and classic charm. You heard of him through Yerim and how many of the other ladies were vying after the massive amount of wealth in his estate. He was one of the richest bachelors of the season, and any lady who was wed to him would automatically be elevated to a higher social status.

You assumed that because of his upbringing, he would act in a more gentleman-like fashion than the rest of his peers. You were proved wrong by his display of behavior at your first ball.

“Is he planning to dance with every lady in this room?” You asked Yerim, watching as Jaehyun once again swept through the floor with a different lady latched onto his arm. “I mean, every dance card in this place has his name written on it.”

She laughed at you. “Can you blame him? He has a lot of prospects. Everyone knows he’s the first pick of the season.”

“It is disrespectful. He is toying with their feelings for his own amusement. I do not like it.”

She poked you with a twinkle of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “No, you do not like that he has not asked you. You want a chance with him, do you not?”

You scoffed at the assumption. “Absolutely not. I have my sights set on a much higher man than Lord Jeong.”

You were so adamant on your superiority over him that when he approached you later that night for a dance, you swiftly rejected him.

“I think you have had enough dances for the night. Would you not agree, Lord Jeong?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, likely wondering what he had done to already get on your bad side.

“One more shall not bring me harm. Unless your dancing skills are not up to par, Miss?”

You grinned at him. “My dancing skills are meant for a man who shall actually appreciate my talents instead of using me to cross another name off his list.”

That was the first time you had drawn Jaehyun’s interest.

—

Your mother had not been so gracious with you by your second year.

You had fumbled through a shoddy proposal from Kim Jungwoo, who was far too nervous to actually place a ring on your finger. You unfortunately injured his ego way too far for him to recover, and he quickly withdrew his proposal with his tail tucked between his legs.

Your mother blamed you for the ordeal and ordered at least five new dresses for you to present yourself in your second season. Luckily, Yerim had not caught any gentleman callers either, and you two began flocking together at every event.

By then, Jaehyun’s infamous status as a rake had spread across the ton.

He had been spotted slipping out of brothels late at night, flirting with married women when their husbands were away, and escorting random ladies to balls just for the fun of it. You never possessed a single ounce of respect for him.

Despite this, Jaehyun would not seem to leave you alone.

Every time you turned a corner, he would be there, waiting to surprise you with an insult or tease you about your almost-marriage with Jungwoo.

“Must we keep meeting like this?” He said after the season was nearly halfway over and you had just turned down another suggestion to dance. He stalked you all the way to the bowl of lemonade while you tried to ignore his grating voice. “No one here is up to your caliber?”

“What do you want, Jeong?” You spat out, tired of his nonsense. “I thought you would be halfway down the street by now, searching for an open brothel.”

He chuckled at your jest. “They have put up warning signs about me to all the women. Apparently I caused a few too many internal fights over my rugged good looks.”

You rolled your eyes. “I find it more likely that they figured out you are sexually impotent.”

“There is only one way to find out for yourself, hm?”

“I would rather gauge my own eyes out.”

“What’s the matter? Am I not as pretty as Jungwoo?”

Johnny Suh had been the one to rescue you, asking you for a dance, which was the first offer you accepted that night. You would glance to the side from time to time to catch Jaehyun’s gaze following you around the floor, but you preoccupied yourself by staying near Johnny, preventing the loathsome creature from approaching you again.

—

Johnny had gotten married to Lady Joohyun by the next year, leaving you without a regular dance partner in your third season. Many believed he would propose to you, but you knew that he had only wanted to make Joohyun jealous after his confession to you one night.

Jaehyun, surprisingly, did not bother you whenever you were with Johnny. He had been noticeably absent from any ball where Johnny was your escort.

You believed your luck had taken a turn until your first appearance after Johnny’s marriage.

“Well well well,” you heard his drawl from a mile away. Yerim looked at you hesitantly after you tensed by her side. “Look who has decided to make an appearance on her own.”

At the time, you were giddy about your chances of a husband that season. Many noblemen had returned from vacation with friends and distant relatives accompanying them, nearly doubling the pool of gentlemen at your disposal.

You were absolutely not going to allow Jaehyun to ruin the year for you. You decided to play civil, to hopefully make amends and let bygones be bygones.

“Lord Jeong,” you greeted with a curtsy, which had Jaehyun stifling a chuckle. “How lovely to see you here.”

“Is it?” He replied with a raise of his eyebrow. “If I recall, you compared me to a horrid bug staining the bottom of your shoe just a few months ago.”

Yerim pursed her lips to prevent a cacophony of laughter from slipping out. You squeezed her arm with a scolding glance.

“That was the old me, Lord Jeong. I am a new woman, so you see. I am about to become a bride after all.”

“A bride? To whom have you been betrothed to? I have heard no news of your engagement,” he said in a flurry, his eyes flashing with a panic for reasons unbeknownst to you.

“You have not heard news of my engagement yet,” you emphasized. “The night is young and I am a very willing maiden. Therefore, if you’ll excuse us-”

“If you are so willing, then shall you entertain me with a dance?” He questioned as he held out one hand, challenging you.

You clenched your jaw in frustration. You were all in favor of extending an olive branch, but dancing with him at the first ball of the season was a tad too far. You did not want to be making a statement for yourself by befriending Jaehyun’s company.

The ladies would assume you held no dignity for yourself and the gentlemen would be appalled by your association with him.

“I have already promised my first dance with Lord Lee,” you lied through your teeth. You knew Donghyuck would not mind dancing with you just to save you from Jaehyun. “I shall see you around, Lord Jeong.”

If you had known better, you would have caught the dejected expression on Jaehyun’s face after you refused him. But all you could remember from that night was his teasing smirk and the playful lilt in his voice as he mocked you.

—

Your memories of Jaehyun do not assure you in the slightest that your parents have made the right decision.

Yerim comes over the next morning after the news of your forced marriage, soothing your cries with warm pastries and fresh tea. She rubs your back while you lay in bed, moaning for your misfortune.

“It is not that horrible,” she says in an attempt to pacify you. “At least he is good looking.”

You blink up at her. “Are you serious? I hardly care about his looks, Yerim! He is deplorable! He does not have a single redeeming quality. My mother wants to ruin my life, I am positive about that fact. How could any other suitor ever want me again once I have been tainted by Jeong Jaehyun?”

She chews on her lower lip. “I know you are not fond of him, but he may not say the same for you.”

Her statement has you peeking over your pillow, curious to hear more. She catches your gaze and exhales sharply.

“Have you ever noticed that he attends events when he knows you plan to be there? Or how he talks about you to everyone who will listen? He may have a reputation for being a rake, but you are the only lady he has asked to dance with since our first season.”

The information slowly dawns on you, but Yerim must be imagining things. Jaehyun has never felt any real romantic feelings towards you. You remain faithful that you share this conviction with him.

You shake your head. “He is deluding you as well. Trust me, Yerim, I know where Jaehyun’s true feelings lie.”

She eventually helps you get out of bed and you fail to exchange a single word with your mother while you break your fast. Yerim nudges for you to say the first word but you refuse.

Your mother only acknowledges your presence later in the night when you are due to be escorted to your first public appearance with Jaehyun.

“You are not dressed.”

You brush your hair in front of the mirror, humming softly to yourself. Yerim left to prepare herself in her own home, but you wish she had stayed to help you fight this battle with your mother.

“That is because I am not going.”

“Whatever game this is that you are playing, I do not find it amusing in the slightest. Lord Jeong will be here within the next hour and I expect you to welcome him downstairs with a proper gown and your best smile.”

As your handmaidens help you into your dress, they exchange knowing glances with each other until you grow tired of their mind games.

“May I inquire what has piqued your interest?” You ask in a bored tone.

Seulgi, your handmaiden of over five years, smiles gently at you. She has been dressing you since your first season, and is very aware how irritated you can get during times like these.

“The staff have just been discussing, Miss, since your mother announced your plans for engagement. We have been in communication with the staff employed at Lord Jeong’s household.”

You perk up slightly. “Is that so? And what have you discovered?”

Seulgi beams at you. “Lord Jeong is positively delighted by your coupling. The staff has never seen him more alert. He has been placing orders for brand new decor for your wing of the house and has requested for his staff to research your favorite delicacies to stock the cupboards. It is quite endearing.”

You frown. Jaehyun has wormed his way into the minds of your handmaidens too. His ability to manipulate others should honestly be lauded.

“How sweet of him,” you say through gritted teeth, holding back your true feelings. Although they spend more time with you, your handmaidens are employed by your mother, which means anything you say in front of them could be parroted back to her.

You devise a plan while they continue to adorn you in jewelry and work at pinning up your hair. If you could get Jaehyun to call off this marriage, you are certain his mother would relent. Your cries may go unanswered because you are simply a woman who was born into the right family, but Jaehyun will run his own household after he is married, which means he has superiority over his mother’s decisions.

You hear his voice filter from up the stairs when you walk out of your room.

“It is honestly my pleasure, madam. Your daughter is a gift that I promise to treasure.”

You huff. Where does he keep pulling these lines from?

As you walk down the steps, you take in the scene unfolding in your foyer. Your parents are speaking to Jaehyun with radiating smiles, laughing at every little thing he says. His mother stands closely behind him, joining in on the laughter with a chuckle here and there.

When your heel hits the last step, they turn to you. For the first time, you identify the twinkle in Jaehyun’s eye that tells you he’s excited to see you.

Could Yerim be right? Does Jeong Jaehyun like you?

“There she is,” your mother says, tugging you over and pretending she wasn’t upset with you an hour ago. “She is beautiful, is she not, Lord Jeong?”

“Stunning,” he whispers, and you desperately want to punch him in the face.

“Let us head out, shall we? We do not want to run late,” you say, itching to remove yourself from the spotlight. Jaehyun nods in agreement, outstretching his arm for you to take it, and you reluctantly wrap your fingers around his bicep. You lead the way to the carriage waiting outside, murmuring loudly under your breath so Jaehyun can hear you. “You are so dead to me, Jeong.”

He helps you into your carriage, and you don’t miss the pained look in his eyes as he forces a smile onto his face.

—

Jaehyun never wanted to fall in love.

He has witnessed enough of his friends losing their sanity over the matter, finding themselves on the receiving end of their mother’s meddling into their lives. Some of them have found happiness while the others have settled for what they were given.

Although Jaehyun is the only child and he knows he must marry to continue his lineage, he never imagined he would marry for love. He would likely find a well-bred lady, one who would simply finish her duty in childbearing and leave him alone otherwise.

Before tying himself to her, he desired a little recklessness in his life. He tugged on the heartstrings of the ladies in the ton and stopped by brothels when he was searching for something quick and fast. It earned him a reputation but he hardly cared about what other noble families thought of him. He knew at the end of the day, they prioritized the wealth of his estate far more than his outside trysts, which means he would have no issue in securing a wife when he wanted to.

He really was not intending on taking an interest in you.

His mother had educated him on the ladies of his season, so he knew a little of your background. You are also the only child in your family, but being born a daughter means you must get married to receive an ounce of your father’s wealth. Still, this fact never seems to spur you on in your quest for a husband. He has noticed other ladies approach him quite confidently yet you stay sidelined at every ball, waiting for the gentlemen to come to you, even though you refuse most of their offers to dance.

And he shall admit that your adamant refusal to dance with him has him intrigued.

Although the other ladies are appalled by his reputation, they remain courteous enough to accept a dance or two, mingling with him when they see fit. Since his first season, Jaehyun has made it his own personal mission to get you to join him on the floor, come hell or high water.

He just never expected forcing you to marry him as being the catalyst for you to adhere to his wishes.

“You shall tell your mother that you want to call this marriage off,” you say as soon as the swell of the music starts and you take to the floor.

He takes a step towards you with a raised eyebrow. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I am positively certain I will make your life a living hell if I become your wife. You may not favor me now, but you shall surely detest me once I am finished with you.”

But as you twirl around the floor, he fails to find his voice to tell you that he does not harbor any hatred for you at all. You may play those parts in public and it may be true for you, but Jaehyun has never thought of you as the chip on his shoulder.

The rest of the ton stares at you with wide eyes, whispering to one another about the sudden closeness between you.

“Is marrying me such a stain on your character? What, am I not on par with the likes of Kim Jungwoo and Johnny Suh?”

It infuriated him to no end when Jungwoo was courting you. The man did not even know a single thing about you! He was lured in by your pretty face, and Jaehyun snickered to himself when Jungwoo soon discovered that you have an independent mind, judging the man whenever he uttered the wrong thing. Jaehyun was over the moon when Jungwoo ended your courtship.

Johnny, however, was a player that Jaehyun was not expecting. The man was tall, handsome, and could definitely handle your sharp edges better than Jungwoo. Jaehyun worried that you two would actually marry so he shipped himself off for a vacation to avoid seeing you walk down the aisle. He was content when he returned home and learned you were still single.

“Marrying you would tarnish my reputation. I cannot imagine the other ladies respecting the woman who ties herself to the world’s most infamous rake.”

He falters at the insult from you. When his mother had approached him with the idea to marry you, she expected him to swiftly turn it down, so it came as a surprise that he accepted the deal fairly quickly. He honestly could not stand the thought of you marrying the boring Kim Doyoung. The man would not understand how to entertain you, how to keep you on your toes and humor you.

He would never say it out loud, but the prospect of you becoming his wife satisfied him. He could already picture you running his estate with an iron fist, organizing the awful ledgers he has to sort through and checking if each member of the staff is well taken care of.

He wants it. He wants to wake up next to you. He wants to dance with you when there is no one else around. He wants to bury himself into you, listen to your sweet little moans as he tangles a hand through your hair-

He shakes his head to ward away the lewd thoughts threatening to crawl forward. The music slowly comes to a lull, and before he can stop you, you are darting out of his grasp and heading towards the balcony.

He sees your mother attempt to follow you but he stops her with the raise of his hand. He shadows you, keeping his eyes trained on the floral pattern of your gown.

He stops when you saunter out, slamming the doors shut behind you as you lean over the railing to catch your breath. He observes you silently, watching as you sigh and run your fingers through your hair, taking it out of its neat updo.

He waits a little before joining you in the open space.

“I did not realize I would become such a burden for you,” he whispers as you stand side by side.

You scowl at him. “How did you think I would react? Did you think I would jump into your arms and you would carry me off into the sunset?”

“You hate all of the gentlemen in the ton. You have to concede to this fact. And I understand I am not better than the rest of them, but you know me. I would never bend your will or coerce you into submission. You will be free to do as you please, I will not prevent you from your happiness.”

“But you are preventing me! Does this not register with you? I do not want to marry you. You must feel the same way, do you not?”

He hesitates, and the brief second seems to confirm your answer. You exhale and your hands tighten their grip on the railing.

“How long?” You ask in a small voice.

He swallows. “I do not know.”

“I cannot marry you, Jaehyun.”

“I shall inform my mother of your decision tonight. I apologize for causing you grief.”

You spin and saunter back into the ballroom, leaving Jaehyun’s heart crumpled into a mess on the floor.

—

Jaehyun plans to escape his troubles by embarking on a year-long vacation.

Perhaps it is enough time to move on from you, to stop worrying about you all the time and wondering who you might be with. His announcement to the staff about ending your engagement before it has even come to life has his mother in tears. They were instructed to halt all preparations for your wing of the estate and to eat whatever stock of food they had purchased for you.

He’s barely holding himself together as he packs up his things, intent on leaving and not coming back until he is ready to face high society again.

“Lord Jeong, you have a visitor at the door.”

“I am fairly occupied,” he says without missing a beat, grabbing any article of clothing he can find and throwing it into his suitcase.

But then they tell him that you are the one waiting by the door, and that has his feet moving swiftly.

You are fidgeting in the foyer, squirming as members of his household staff walk around you, carrying pieces of the decor that was meant for your bedroom.

“Lord Jeong,” you say with a curtsy, and his eyebrows furrow from the contrast of your behavior last night to today.

“How may I help you?” He asks coldly, desperately wanting to distance himself from you. You never make any task easy for him.

“I wanted to continue our conversation.”

“I did not think there was much more to say. You made your feelings very clear.”

“May we speak in private?”

He guides you into his office, leaving the door open an inch in an effort not to compromise you. You clear your throat once you are alone.

“I have thought it over and have decided to accept your proposal.”

He narrows his eyes. “You have decided to accept? Forgive me, but the last time we spoke, you distinctly voiced your opposition to marrying me. What has changed?”

You look away, your mouth twisting in the way it does when you are particularly peeved by him.

“You are right,” you admit begrudgingly. “I do not like any of the gentlemen in the ton, and I fear I never will. At least with you, I shall still have my freedom and get my mother off my back. I cannot stand another season of this — the balls, the dresses, the constant dancing. I am tired and I just want to live.”

The tension in his shoulders starts to fade. It is not exactly what he wants to hear, but he will take your acceptance if it means he does not have to leave for a year just to forget you.

“So we are carrying through with this?”

You purse your lips. “I cannot fall in love with you. Not in the way you want me to.”

He nods. “T-That is perfectly fine. I was not expecting you to.”

“And we will forgo childbearing until it is absolutely necessary.”

“That sounds plausible.”

“And Yerim is allowed to come over whenever it suits her.”

“Of course.”

You chew on your bottom lip and he resists the urge to take it in between his teeth.

“Where is my ring?”

He blinks twice. “Forgive me?”

“My ring. You must have one picked out.”

He pats his pockets but blanches when he realizes he’s not carrying his mother’s ring with him.

“Can you wait here for a second?”

He sprints upstairs to his mother’s room, startling her handmaidens when he pounds on her door. She opens it with wide eyes.

“Jaehyun, what-”

“Where is your ring?” He asks breathlessly. “The one that father gave you?”

“In my jewelry box. Why?”

“May I have it? Now? Please?”

She fumbles around to look for it, and Jaehyun bounces on the balls of his feet while he waits, fearful that if he does not get that ring on your finger, you shall disappear through the front door and he will never see you again. As soon as his mother hands him the band, he runs back down to his office, relieved when he sees you still standing by the window.

He drops to one knee in front of you and you stare back at him, unamused. He decides to skip the speech in case you change your mind, slipping the ring on your finger as you admire the diamond sparkling in the light.

“It is beautiful,” you murmur, and he thanks the heavens for your approval. You lower your hand as you state, “I shall not attend another lousy ball just for show. We shall wed as soon as we can and negotiate the details after.”

Like a puppy chasing after its tail, he submits to your every request, dreaming of you and him under one roof.

—

The next week is chaos in the Jeong household.

Members of the staff rush left and right, preparing themselves for a wedding they thought had been called off. The favorite gossip of the ton have been surrounding your wedding, pertaining to why you were getting married this quickly, how you went from despising one another to falling in love, and if tying the knot would finally promote Jaehyun from being a rake to a proper lord.

Jaehyun is keen to sit back and watch it all unfold. He has barely seen you as you have been wrapped up in dress fittings and moving your belongings into his home.

It is only the night before your wedding that you rush to his office in a panicked state.

He is startled when the door swings open and you stand there in nothing but your nightgown. You hold a candle in your hand as you scurry to his side.

“What-” he starts, wondering what could be troubling you.

“My mother has divulged to me what a husband is meant to do to his wife on the night of their wedding. I shall inform you that I do not approve of such indiscretions, if that was not made clear before.”

His cheeks flush red when it dawns on him what you must be referring to. Yes, he has conjured up many fantasies late at night, but he never assumed you would willingly lie with him on your first night together as husband and wife.

“Y-Yes, that is understood.”

“Furthermore, I shall not become the wife who sits idly by while you run to a brothel to satisfy your needs. You shall only lie with me, when I feel I am prepared and ready to accept you.”

He leans back in his seat, one eyebrow raised. “Do you think so low of me that I would disrespect you in such a public fashion?”

You huff. “Jaehyun, I am astonished that you have not done so already.”

He narrows his eyes. Before he can retort, the door bursts wide open again and your handmaiden comes rushing in.

“I apologize profusely, Lord Jeong!” She cries. “We were not made aware of her destination. You are not meant to see her like this-”

“You do not need to apologize to him, Seulgi,” you interject with a sigh. “And he shall learn to see all sides of me soon enough.”

Your handmaiden stutters for a response but you poke your finger at Jaehyun with a stern gaze.

“Do not dare forget what I said.”

“How can I when you come traipsing through here in the middle of the night, disturbing me before the biggest day of our lives?”

You exit with a dramatic flair, slamming the doors behind you as your handmaiden follows after. He slumps in his chair, exhausted and wondering how far he has to go to earn your trust.

His mother wakes him the next morning bright and early, chirping happily for the marriage she has waited years for. He readies himself on his own, pulling on his stuffy suit and tie. He thinks about how you must be faring with the glitz and glamour.

His mother and yours had invited almost the entire population of the city to the wedding. People that Jaehyun has never met in his life greet him at the chapel, congratulating him for the momentous occasion. He thanks them with a nervous smile, worried if you will actually show up at the end of the aisle.

Thankfully, when the music plays and the doors open, you step out, dressed in a long, satin white gown. He loses his breath when he looks at you, the picture perfect beauty of a bride. You hesitate under the scrutiny of the ton’s gazes, tightening your grip around your father’s arm.

Jaehyun inhales and exhales slowly. His heart is beating so hard that he can hear the thumping echo in his ears. He can hardly believe this day has come, and even more so that you agreed to marry him.

You must be running through the same thought process, for when your father hands you over to Jaehyun, you stare at him wide eyed. He takes your hand in his, soothing you by running his thumb over the back of your wrist. It unwinds you a little when you stand in front of the priest.

The priest drones on and on about eternal love and the sacred vow between husband and wife. Jaehyun keeps his eyes trained on you, watching you from the corner of his eye to ensure you are faring well.

When you turn to him to seal your lips in a kiss, his heart stops beating.

“Breathe,” he whispers just before his mouth touches yours. He can feel you trembling in his hold.

“Why do they have to keep looking at us?” You murmur.

“Because you are too pretty for them to look away.”

“You are full of it, Lord Jeong.”

His tongue traces over your bottom lip before he can stop himself. A couple’s first kiss at their wedding should be a light peck, something God would approve of.

Jaehyun does not give a damn what God thinks.

There is a small gasp in the audience when his tongue slips into your mouth. You arch into him, calm for the first time in hours.

When you break away, you blink up at him, and his curiosity flares up. Did it feel good for you too?

The crowd erupts in applause and you step away from him, smiling shyly at them. Jaehyun kicks into autopilot, walking you back down the aisle as you laugh with the people surrounding you.

When you are escorted into the gardens for your reception, he swallows.

“Well, it is over.”

You purse your lips. “Y-Yes. That kiss was-”

Your mother comes around the corner, crying as she envelops you in a hug. You pat her back awkwardly as she sobs.

“Oh, darling, I am so happy for you! So, so happy!”

Then Jaehyun’s mother mobs him, cooing about how handsome he looks. You find yourselves on opposite ends of the large space, controlling the flock of people who demand to know the next steps of your marriage.

Jaehyun fields questions left and right that are clearly an invasion of his privacy.

“How many children do you two want to have?”

“I think the best time to start making babies is right after the wedding. It’s when your hormones are at their peak. Do you not agree, Lord Jeong?”

“My theory is that you should lock yourselves away for at least two months so the seed will sprout and grow. Does that not sound wonderful?”

By the time he finds his way back to you, you both are worse for wear.

“Lord Jeong, Lady Jeong!”

You grab Jaehyun’s hand and sprint into the hedge maze. He tries not to trip over your skirt as you weave through the walls of the garden, catching your breath once you find yourselves trapped in the middle.

“They are incessant vultures!” You hiss, ripping the veil from your hair and tossing it to the side. “I mean, honestly. Who granted them the authority to decide when and how I should have a child?”

“Lady Baek almost gave me advice on how her husband gets it up! As if I need to hear such disturbing counsel regarding a man about to turn seventy!” He grunts.

You shudder. “We shall camp out here until they have all grown too tired to stick around. What was my mother thinking when she invited that many people?”

You collapse on the ground together, paying no mind to the grass stains covering your dress or the dirt coating the bottom of his pants. You listen to the steady sound of each other’s breathing, grateful to be away from the incessant noise.

He clears his throat. “What were you saying earlier? About the kiss?”

You cough. “Oh, um, nothing. It was merely surprising, that is all.”

“Sorry if I did not live up to your expectations.”

“That was not what I meant,” you mumble, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. “I hardly expected you to kiss me so… passionately. In all of the weddings I have attended, the groom never devours his bride like that.”

“I did not devour you,” he corrects, flustered by your accusation.

A moment passes before you burst into a fit of laughter. He should be mad with you, but when he glances over to see you giggling into your palm, he finds the corners of his lips lifting upwards.

You settle into your harmonious laughter for a few minutes, riding on the blissful cloud of your new marriage. He did not think it had become such a huge burden on his shoulders, but he is relieved he no longer has to deal with mingling in crowded ballrooms, debating on whether he should ask you to dance or leave entirely.

The recollection has him springing to his feet. You stare up at him in confusion when he holds out his hand.

“Join me.”

“You cannot be serious, Jaehyun.”

He clicks his tongue. “I obliged to all of your rules. Come here and dance with me.”

You grumble as he helps pull you up. Once you are in his arms, he wraps a hand around your waist, holding you steady as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

The moonlight dances over your features and he swears he has never seen a sight more beautiful.

“Yerim was telling me something the other day that I found interesting,” you say.

He quirks up an eyebrow. “What did she say?”

“That you only attend balls when I am present. And that you will speak about me to anyone who will listen.”

“Do not let it go to your head,” he teases weakly.

You do not allow him to escape that easily because evidently, you love to embarrass him at any given chance.

“How long, Jaehyun?”

He thinks about the night out on the balcony when you were asking him this question with the intention to break his heart and never return.

“A long time,” he confesses. “Likely when we first met.”

You shake your head. “Why? Why me? Out of all the women in the ton-”

“The rest of the women in the ton could never hold a candle to you,” he swears, looking deep into your eyes, hoping you memorize every word. “I know you think of me as a reckless rake who will insert myself into any woman’s bed, but you must know how devoted I am to you. You are the only person I find myself laughing with, the only person who can keep up with me and drive me insane all at once. I dream of you. I understand this marriage is all a means to an end to you, but you are the only lady I have ever wanted.”

He nearly chokes when you pounce on him, smashing your lips together until he’s stumbling back into the hedges. His hands rest on your hips as you chase after him.

Your tongues fight for dominance and he realizes just how hungry he is. He has been holding himself back to preserve your dignity, but with God as his witness, you are now his wife and he gets to make you writhe in pleasure if it is his sole desire.

He bunches up your skirt, slipping his hand underneath the mountains of fabric. He growls when your corset gets in the way of the prize he really wants.

“Get this off,” he hisses, tugging at the tight strands that hug your bodice.

“Our mothers will come looking for us,” is all you can reply with.

“I do not care,” he says. “I need you.”

But a gasp interrupts your fervent entanglement. You jump apart to see his mother standing in front of you, appalled by the sight of you two.

“Jeong Jaehyun, I raised you to be a gentleman!” She scolds, approaching you and helping you look presentable again. You avoid her glare. “You both need a lesson in understanding what is acceptable for you to do in public. Just because you are married does not give you the right to behave like animals!”

She tugs you away with a huff, and Jaehyun’s head crashes against the hedge, his cock aching to be stuffed inside you.

—

You are avoiding your husband.

You do not know what has gotten into you. At first, you were loathing the creature you were forced to marry, hoping one day he would magically incinerate and you could avoid having to call him your husband. But then he was confessing to you, telling you everything a lady has always wanted to hear.

It is the first time you have ever experienced the spark of attraction to a gentleman. It is the first time you became content in getting married. It is the first time you felt… desire.

But you are not supposed to let Jeong Jaehyun get the best of you. You hide away in the daytime at Yerim’s home, brushing off her probing questions.

“It’s your honeymoon. Should you not be at home?”

You smile tightly at her. “And miss spending time with you? Of course not. Now, tell me all about Na Jaemin.”

You do not return back to the Jeong estate until supper, where you have a tense gathering with your husband across the dining table. True to his word, Jaehyun refuses to touch you until you initiate it first, which is driving you both mad with insatiable lust.

“How was your day with Yerim?” He asks stiffly, spooning soup into his mouth.

“G-Good. Sir Na has taken a liking to her. He lives in the countryside, however, and I selfishly do not want her to move away if they are to be betrothed.”

“Yes, it might be quite terrible if you were left alone in the presence of your husband with nowhere to flee.”

You narrow your eyes. “If you are insinuating something, Jaehyun, then please do not subject me to your mind games. I would rather you speak the truth.”

He smiles devilishly. “You first.”

You keep your mouth sealed shut for the rest of the meal. Even when you prepare yourselves to climb into bed together, your bedroom is filled with such unspeakable tension that you could cut with a knife.

You occupy yourself by opening a book, observing from the corner of your eye as Jaehyun turns on his side and blows his candle out. You tap your nails against the hardcover, blurting out your next statement before you can stop yourself.

“You never told me about your day.”

He muses over how to reply before he states, “I was lonely, craving a wife who wants nothing to do with me.”

You pout like a child. “I told you I am not going to fall in love with you.”

“I remember.”

It’s summer when Yerim and Jaemin get engaged. Yerim’s mother is so thrilled that she hosts a celebration party, where you and Jaehyun attend arm-in-arm, pretending to be civil with one another. You are bombarded with an onslaught of questions pertaining to how your marriage is faring, and if the ton can expect a new baby boy or girl to arrive any day now.

You stick with the excuse of, “We are trying,” to get them to go away.

Yerim pulls you aside to her bedchamber later that night, smiling widely. The joy in her expression has not left her face all night, and it comforts you to know she will be taken care of in the countryside, despite being so far from you.

“What a night!” She exclaims, falling on her mattress in glee. “I have never been this happy before, I swear it to you.”

“I can tell,” you laugh, patting her knee. “It satisfies me to know Jaemin has you this giddy.”

She chews her lip when she sits up, and she has the expression on her face that screams she has a secret.

“Can I tell you something? In the confidence of our friendship?”

“Of course,” you say, sitting next to her on the bed.

She twiddles her thumbs, clearly thrumming with nervousness. “The other day, Jaemin and I were alone.”

You gasp. “Yerim! You are not supposed to be with him unchaperoned until after you are wed!”

Her cheeks bloom a bright shade of red. “We did a lot of things we are supposed to do after we are wed.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and the prompt scolding you are about to give her dies down in your throat.

“W-What did he do?”

“Amazing things,” she exhales dreamily. “Do you know how good it feels when they put their mouth… down there?”

“Yerim!” You say, scandalized.

She giggles. “So you and Jaehyun still have not-”

“No,” you confirm with the shake of your head. “No, we have not. And we will not until we absolutely need to.”

She nudges your shoulder. “He is your husband now, you know. Not a rake who is looking to bed you just because he can.”

You clear your throat and rise from your spot on the bed. “We should head back downstairs. People might be searching for you.”

She’s slightly downcast by your quick dismissal but follows you without protest. You are warm from the brief discussion, imagining what Jaehyun would look like nestled in between your thighs, staring up at you with unadulterated hunger.

The vision abruptly leaves your mind once you land on the last step, spotting your husband being flanked by Sooyoung, a girl he used to be very friendly with. She is giggling at him, her hand caressing his bicep as she hangs off his every word.

You freeze, your throat growing dry at your husband openly flirting with another lady in front of you. In Jaehyun’s defense, he does not seem to be paying any attention to her, his eyes fluttering around the room.

When he finds you, you dart towards the exit, ignoring both Yerim and Jaehyun’s cries of your name. As you request for your carriage to be brought forward, a hand wraps around your wrist.

“You have made assumptions.”

You tear your hand away from Jaehyun with a glare. “I hardly care who you speak to. I am going home, the party’s over.”

He growls your name and the staff lingering nearby pretend to look disinterested.

“Do not behave like this.”

Once your carriage rolls up, you climb in, refusing Jaehyun’s help. You try to close the door behind you but your husband pushes his way inside, preventing you from making your dramatic escape.

“I do not possess any feelings for Sooyoung,” he sighs. “I never have.”

“I do not care! I am merely humiliated by the fact that you would display your affection for her in front of everyone! I know those people, Jaehyun, and I strictly told you before we were married that I would not become the wife who would stand idly by while her husband is wrapped up in an affair!”

“I am not in an affair!” You are both screaming too loud to hide your troubles from the outside. “I have never had an affair. I am devoted to you! I dream of you! How many times must I say this to you? Sooyoung approached me, asking me how I have been. I told her I was not interested in her folly and I was waiting for your return. What took you so long with Yerim anyways?”

You are riled up with anger and frustration. “She was educating me about how a proper husband takes care of his wife. Tell me, did you ever get on your knees for Sooyoung? Did you press your mouth in between her thighs?”

His eyebrows raise to his hairline, clearly not expecting you to quip back with that. You fold your arms across your chest, pouting and refusing to look at him.

You gasp when his hands suddenly pull up your dress and he sinks to his knees. You back yourself up against the wall of the carriage.

“Jaehyun, what are you doing?” You hiss.

“If you wanted to know what it feels like, you could have just asked.”

You glance around worriedly but the carriage still moves on, and the drapery covering the windows protects anyone from the outside to witness your husband wiggling his way underneath your dress.

You do not stop him, interested in how determined he is to prove himself to you. Your fingertips dart out to hold the sides of the carriage when his lips graze over your core.

You cup a hand over your mouth to keep your moans at bay. You have never dared to touch yourself in your most sensitive area. It’s unseemly for a lady of your status, and you feel as if you shall be damned to hell if you ever crossed that line.

But Jaehyun is your husband, so this must be allowed in heaven, right?

You lurch forward when his tongue runs over your folds. You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to lick at your dripping cunt. He laps at you as if you are his next meal and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You are entirely too sensitive that you could cry, your body shuddering as Jaehyun buries himself deeper into your pussy.

The carriage comes to a halt as you sob, your hands tangling into his hair as your peak washes over you. When he pops his head back up, he’s grinning with your slick covering his chin.

“How was it, my dear wife?”

“Get inside the house.”

The staff are flustered when you scramble past them. Jaehyun’s hands dig into the flesh of your waist as he leads you inside, dismissing the staff by hoisting you up on the singular table in the foyer, knocking down his mother’s favorite vase.

You bring his mouth to yours as the spark inside you bursts into flames. Months of tension finally unravel as he pushes your thighs apart, slotting himself in until he’s rolling down into your core.

“Jaehyun,” you whine. “Please.”

“Did Yerim tell you what men can do with their fingers?” He asks, his bottom lip dragging over your jawline.

“N-No.”

You squeak when he unlaces your corset, practically ripping it in half in his efforts to peel it off of you. His mouth is drawn to the swell of your breasts, taking your exposed nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud.

A maid comes from around the corner at the sound of the broken glass from the vase, but she chokes when she sees her employers dangling off a tiny table, enraptured in one another.

When he slips a finger inside you, you’re driven wild with lust. None of the noble lords and ladies would recognize you if they saw you now, encouraging your husband to use his teeth while sucking at your breasts and begging him to stuff more fingers inside your cunt.

“Dear God,” you sob when his thumb circles at your clit.

You have never felt pleasure like this in your entire life. Is this why women get married? Is this why they subject themselves to uncomfortable corsets and boring dances?

“You like it, do you not?” He questions in a mocking tone, hovering over you with a darkened gaze. “Imagine how we could have had this months ago if you had only swallowed your pride. Falling in love with me does not sound so horrifying anymore, does it?”

His teeth sink into the juncture of your neck as you chant his name. You cum when he inserts another digit inside your wet hole, curling his fingers forward, causing you to feel boneless in his grasp.

“I will not have our first time be like this,” he says, licking his fingers clean and carrying you in his arms.

“The bedroom is too far,” you reply, wanting to jump his bones immediately.

He chuckles. “You made me wait months. I think you can handle a few minutes.”

The room is spotless when you walk in, making you feel slightly guilty for ruining the staff’s hard work. But then Jaehyun drops you on the mattress and unlaces his breeches, and your focus hones in on his lower half. Your vision grows heavy when he reveals himself.

You never quite understood what gentlemen were packing down there, but you surely never would have guessed this. His member is long, thick, and veiny, startling you when he wraps a hand around his base.

“W-What are you planning to do with that?”

He laughs. “My wife, this is meant to go inside you.”

Your brain stops working for a second. He senses your hesitance, smiling playfully as he leans over you, kissing you gently.

“I shall take it slow. It shall feel good once you get used to the stretch.”

“Do you promise?” You say timidly.

He nods. “It helps that you are already so wet.” You scoff when he swipes his fingers over the wetness coating your thighs. He kisses every inch of exposed skin he can find, helping you loosen up to take his massive cock. “It is going to hurt the first time, but I swear it will get easier.”

“Who said we would be doing this again?” You inquire.

His chuckle vibrates against the shell of your ear. “Trust me. We shall definitely do this again.”

He lines himself up to your entrance, distracting you with a kiss. You never believed kissing could be worthwhile, but you find that you do not mind the act at all when it comes to your husband.

But Christ, is he trying to split you in half?

“Hurts,” you whimper as he gradually pushes in.

He stops immediately. “Do you want me to pull out?”

You shake your head. “No, no. Just… make it feel better.”

“You like it when I touch you here,” he says, returning his thumb to your clit, rubbing the nub in slow circles.

You close your eyes, powering through the overwhelming pain with the small windows of pleasure. Jaehyun does not appear to be experiencing the same issues, gritting his teeth when he bottoms out.

“You are squeezing me too tightly,” he groans. “Ease up a little, wife. I am going to finish before we have truly started.”

“I cannot! You are intent in destroying me!” You retort.

“Fuck,” he curses, dropping his head to rest between your neck and shoulder. “Tell me when I should start moving.”

“Moving?” You pale. “Is this not the entire thing?”

“I thought your mother explained this to you the night before our wedding?”

“She never discussed the specifics!”

His hands cup your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. You blink back the tears threatening to spill and he smiles at you, assuring you that everything is going to be okay.

“Do you trust me? You must trust me a little at this point.”

“A little,” you grumble. “Don’t push your luck.”

He moves to sit on his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders and holding them in place while he thrusts into you. Initially, he’s apologizing for the pain, but you slowly adjust to his size and your wetness begins to emit a thwacking sound against the flesh of his thighs.

Moans spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“That is it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”

You would not think that Jaehyun’s praise would have such an effect upon you. You are whining for him as his cock batters into your pussy, staining the sheets with the mix of your wetness.

“I shall not last,” he says through bated breaths. “You are squeezing me too tightly.”

Moments later, he spills into you, filling you with the warmth of his cum. He withdraws himself to replace his length with his fingers, swirling them inside your cunt until you are falling over the edge of your third climax.

He collapses next to you, his chest rising up and down. You gaze at him shyly.

“So when shall the baby come?”

He smiles at you. “It normally does not take the first time. We have to keep trying until you feel the babe start to grow.”

You narrow your eyes. “You are surely making that up.”

He winks. “Trust me. We shall practice until you acquire a taste for it.”

—

You and Jaehyun apologize profusely to the staff the next day for your behavior, but they simply smile and tell you to work hard in your baby making efforts.

You are both startled when you approach the breakfast table to see his mother sitting there, sipping on her morning cup of tea.

“M-Mother?” Jaehyun stutters. “What are you doing here? I thought you were away handling matters of the estate.”

She smiles knowingly at you, and you slink behind your husband’s back, feeling like a child who has been scolded for eating too many treats.

“I wanted to check in on you. I arrived last night.”

“Last night?” You and Jaehyun both question in shock.

You recall his messy display of fingering you in the foyer for everyone to witness. Did his mother see her son ravaging you? Did she watch you fall apart under his touch?

Her grin seems to convey your answer. She gestures to the chairs beside her.

“Come and sit. I want to hear all about my future grandchild.”

You return to your bedchamber after breakfast feeling mortified. Jaehyun tries to soothe your worries with a gentle hand at your back.

“It is very normal for a husband and wife to be intimate.”

“Not for a lady to expose herself in front of her mother-in-law and the staff!”

He winces. “I am certain that they found the scene to be arousing, if anything.”

You dig your head into the pillows, pouting. “You fail at lifting up my spirits.”

You feel him peppering kisses over your shoulder, his hands wandering where they should not be. You try to swat them away but he whines in your ear.

“She already knows about us anyway. Let me have a little fun.”

You turn on your side to face him, grazing your fingers over his cheek. You hate that Yerim was right — your husband is very handsome.

“When I said I would never fall in love-”

“It is fine. I understand.”

“No, no,” you correct, tracing his jawline. “I was going to say that I think I could. If you give me enough time and if you do not act like an insufferable rake, I could see myself loving you.”

He smirks. “I am quite flattered.”

You roll your eyes. “Can you do that thing with your mouth again?”

“Happy to oblige, wife.”

“FUCK!” 

You were ripped from sleep (abruptly ending your dream about becoming the president and legalizing weed) by the sound of glass breaking. Your phone told you it was nearly 3 AM and the cold sheets on the side of the bed where your boyfriend was supposed to be told you the crashing and cursing were coming from him. 

There probably should have been a stronger sense of urgency in the way you climbed out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen, but you were so fucking tired it was hard to think straight. The medication you took to help with your insomnia made waking up particularly difficult, especially in the middle of the night. 

Yoongi stood in the middle of the kitchen. His cheeks were bright pink, and half of his dark hair was pulled into a small ponytail, the rest of the strands falling against the tops of his shoulders. Small shards of glass were scattered around him on the floor. A bottle of Hennessy sat on the kitchen table, but you chose not to linger on that. 

“What the fuck are you doing, babe?” You rubbed your eyes with your fists and blinked hard in the artificial light assaulting your vision. 

Yoongi only scowled. 

You hated when he got like this. How were you supposed to help him if he didn’t tell you what he needed? 

With a sigh, you retreated to the hallway to get a broom and dustpan from the closet. It was difficult to sweep up the shards with Yoongi still standing in the same spot, but you did your best to get the larger pieces. 

Once the large shards were disposed of in the trashcan, you turned to the kitchen sink to grab a paper towel. Just a bit of water was needed to make the paper towel damp enough for your liking. Yoongi continued to stand, eyes trained on the wall, while you crouched at his feet. Slowly sweeping the damp paper towel across the floor collected the rest of the glass shards that were difficult for you to see, the tiny ones that were likely to cut into his feet. Yoongi always walked around barefoot, another thing you hated. Men’s feet were weird-looking. That was just a fact. 

Satisfied with your work, you threw away the paper towel and resumed your stance in front of your boyfriend with your arms crossed against your chest and your eyelids heavy. 

“Gonna tell me what’s wrong now?” 

It seemed the time it took for you to finish cleaning gave Yoongi the time he needed to calm down. His was was no longer twisted with frustration, though his new expression was just as sad. He was exhausted, but you already knew that. How could he not be? A decade of being run into the ground for the sake of his art and his fans and making the company filthy rich would exhaust even the strongest people. 

You definitely knew you wouldn’t be able to hang. Capitalism was a scam. 

“I don’t know what the fuck they want from me,” he said with gritted teeth. You thought he was going to explain himself further, but after a few moments of silence he held out his hand. 

With a sleepy smile, you pulled Yoongi against your chest and ignored the smell of alcohol that clouded your senses when he exhaled against your hair. He curled his arm around your waist and held the back of your head with his other hand. Everyone joked about Yoongi being small, but one hug from him was enough to prove that he was solid and sturdy and safe. 

“Who, baby?” 

“Everyone.” The softness of his whisper made your soul ache. “We go over the songs, they said it sounds too Agust D. I rewrite, rerecord, go over the songs so many fucking times. Suddenly it’s too SUGA, too BTS. They want something different than “D-2”, different than “That That” and “Girl Of My Dreams”, but then they say I’m straying too far from what fans are used to. What is the fucking album supposed to be, Y/N?” 

You nuzzled your face against his collarbone and waited, knowing he didn’t expect an answer. After half a heartbeat, he was continuing. 

“Is this an Agust D album or a SUGA album?” He squeezed you even tighter. 

“What kind of album do you want it to be?” 

It seemed like an obvious question, but Yoongi tilted his head down to look at you with wide eyes. 

Fuck, he was so cute. Was it wrong of you to think he was cute while he was trembling with anger and exhaustion? Eh, it was probably fine. You’d gotten super fucked up at the “Jack in the Box” party and Yoongi had to take care of you while you puked in the bathroom. He’d said you looked cute then. You threatened to throw up on him. 

“I want it to be a Yoongi album,” he said softly. 

“Then make a Yoongi album. Fuck everyone else!” You pressed a quick kiss against his neck and then hopped away from him before he could swat at you for purposefully trying to tickle him with your kisses. “Well, don’t fuck everyone else. Just fuck me.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes, but his hands searched for you again. Grabbing your wrists, he pulled you back against his chest, crushing you so hard you could barely breathe. It was fine, though. He needed touches, skin-on-skin contact, a reminder that he wasn’t alone in all of this. 

“A Yoongi album…” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “I’ve spent too much time creating for other people.” 

You hummed in agreement, snaking your hands beneath his t-shirt to hold his lower back. 

“It’ll fucking kick ass, Yoong. Everything you produce kicks ass. You’re a genius.” 

Yoongi huffed at that, but the gummy grin gives him away. “I said that one time.” 

“One time was enough. It’s out in the universe now. Plus, Genius Lab?? Excuse me, it’s right there.” 

“Leave me alone,” he whined, pulling you even closer. He couldn’t let you go even if he tried.