Bts Fic recs

Jungkook sighs in relief as he opens the front door to your shared apartment. it's been a rough twelve-hour shift of doing diagnostic tests on vehicles, repairing gearboxes and spending time under bonnets. he steps inside, closes the door after him then kicks off his boots. the place smells amazing, rich with the scent of something delicious and chocolate. he rolls his shoulders, feeling the deep ache in his muscles from the strenuous work he's been doing most of the day. honestly, none of it matters now, not when he gets to finally come back to you. you, his entire universe,

he's been obsessed with you since the day you drove into his workshop in your small, pink car with a flat tyre. you had given him the sweetest, warmest smile he had ever seen. after some talk, he had found out that you were a nurse, the kindest nurse with the biggest heart ever. you could've had anyone gentle, yet you chose him – the greasy mechanic who would work so hard to give you everything you want.

months later, after finding out that you had feelings for him, he had rearranged his whole life for you. he quit his bad habits – spending nights at the bar with his friends, being out at strip clubs, running through woman after woman. now his world orbits around you. you're his everything and more. he'd kill for you, die for you. you're his sole purpose.

Jungkook runs a messy hand through his hair. he should probably get cleaned first, get his greasy attire off, he should get in the hot shower and wash the grime away. but he just wants to see you first. he follows the magnificent scent to the kitchen, where he finds you. you're already all clean in your little, silky pyjamas, bending forward to peek in the oven. Jungkook takes note of how your ass is stretched in the fabric, how your shorts are ridden up to show your cheeks. he heats up at the sexy sight. he is so exhausted, but one simple look at you is enough to make him melt into pure happiness.

when you notice that your goodies are nowhere near done, you straighten up. to your surprise and mild shock, when you turn you're met with the sight of Jungkook standing there and admiring you. your face instantly lights up and you give him the brightest smile.

"Jungkook!" you exclaim, already making your way toward him.

he holds up his greasy hands, chuckling, "baby, no, I'm all messy–"

you launch yourself at him, obviously not bothered by the state he's in. how could you ever be? you wrap your arms tightly around his waist and press your body against his harder one. the sweet, alluring smell of you hits Jungkook and his eyes flutter shut. hesitantly, his forearms come around you, not wanting to get dirt on you. but you wrap your arms tight around him, pressing your body against his hard one. your sweet, pretty scent hits Jungkook, his eyes flutter shut as he inhales it. you nuzzle your face into his chest, not caring about the grease stains on his shirt.

"missed you so damn much." he admits.

you squeeze him tighter, squashing your cheek against his hard chest. "missed you more."

he grins, his face breaking into the sweet and gentle smile only you get to see. "impossible."

you roll your eyes at him, not in the mood to argue. you lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips. Jungkook wants to give you a good kiss, wants to hold you close to him, but he holds back. "let me shower first, yeah? I'll hold you properly–"

"no." you say with a little pout. your hands slide up his chest, fisting into his shirt. "hold me properly now. kiss me nicely, Jungkook."

he sighs, knowing that he could never say no to you. to his sweet, pretty girl. his everything. his arms tighten around you, pulling you close. he leans down and kisses you. the kiss starts off soft and gentle, but you have other ideas – you deepen the kiss and insert your tongue in his mouth, letting your hands roam his chest and abs under his shirt. your fingers make their way down until they find his belt. Jungkook lets out a groan. his cock twitches in his pants as you press your body closer against his. you slide your knee between his legs, rubbing his growing erection. Jungkook grunts against your mouth, one of his hands slides down to grab a handful of your ass, he squeezes then smacks it, causing you to gasp into the kiss.

he pulls back to speak against your lips. "behave or else I'm gonna bend you over the counter and get grease on you."

you giggle and pull back to look at him. "go shower then. but hurry, I have something in the oven for you."

Jungkook pecks your lips one last time before reluctantly letting you go. you smile and caress his jaw, stealing one more kiss before he makes his way over to the bathroom.

––

the shower feels good, the hot water cascades over Jungkook as he washes away the grease and sweat of today. he stays inside for a bit longer than he needs to, enjoying the way the water soothes his muscles. once he's done, he turns off the water and wraps a towel around his hips. once in your shared bedroom, he dries himself and pulls on a pair of boxers, sweatpants and a shirt before walking back to the living room and dropping onto the couch with a sigh. he man spreads on the couch, tipping his head back onto the cushions. he's tired and his body is sore, but knowing that you're just a few steps away fills him up with so much of contentment.

a minute later, you appear carrying a saucer with a brownie sitting on it. you walk over to him and Jungkook's face breaks into a smile. he sits up and spreads his thigh wider, making room for you to sit on him.

"come here, baby."

you set the saucer down on the coffee table and plant yourself on him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side of him. you wrap your arms around his neck and his hands make their way under your little pyjama top to caress your waist. he holds you firmly against him.

"you made brownies?" he asks, his voice laced with wonder.

you hum. "for you." you say before reaching back to grab the saucer. you hold a piece of the brownie to his lips. "I came home and thought you'd like something sweet after a long day."

Jungkook's eyes soften even more. he loves brownies, they're his favourite. and the fact that you came home from your own exhausting day at the hospital and made some for him, makes his heart ache with everlasting love.

"you're too good to me." he murmurs before opening his mouth to take a big bite.

his eyes flutter shut as he chews what is definitely the best brownie he's ever had in his life. his expression changes to an almost angry one – the one he makes when something is extremely good to eat. fun fact, it's the exact face he makes when he goes down on you.

"hmm, fuck." he groans as he keeps chewing. "baby, this is so good."

you smile, delighted and feed him another bite which he happily takes. he eats the entire brownie and licks the chocolate off your fingers slowly. when he's done, he attacks your face with pepper kisses all over. you giggle and squirm on his lap, it only makes him hold you tighter and kiss you more.

"it was so fucking good." he says between kisses. "best thing I've had. second only to you."

you cup his face when he finally stops his assault. "is that so?" you ask before leaning in to kiss him.

again, the kiss is sweet, gentle and soft but you deepen it. it soon becomes passionate and heated. Jungkook inserts his tongue in your mouth and you do the same. your tongues explore each other's mouths hungrily. Jungkook's hands go higher, caressing your back while yours tangle in and tug on his damp hair. you carry on kissing for a long while, pouring your love and need for each other into it. when you finally pull back, panting, he holds you tightly. you hold him just as tight, burying your face in his neck, inhaling his scent. you could both stay like this forever – just simply wrapped in one another.

"how was your day, sweetheart?" he asks softly, caressing your back.

you tell him everything. all about your patients of the day, your colleagues and the rest of it. Jungkook intently listens, paying attention to everything you say. he tells you about his day as well – tells you about the cars he and his employees have worked on, the customers they've had and how badly he wanted to get home to you. you both stay like this for a while, you shift a little so your head is resting on his chest and his arms are locked around you. for a long moment, you both stay cuddled on the couch.

eventually, you both feel hungry, together you make something quick and easy and migrate to the dining table to eat. whilst eating, you continue talking and laughing. afterward, you take the rest of the brownies to the couch, put on a movie and cuddle together under a blanket. every now and then you trade kisses.

by the time the movie ends, you're both tired and decide to head to bed. once in bed, Jungkook pulls you against him, spooning you from behind. he leans over to kiss your lips before bidding you goodnight. content, you fall into a deep sleep.

–––

the next morning, Jungkook wakes up first as usual. he spends a few seconds simply watching you sleep, you look so beautiful and peaceful. quietly he gets out of bed, does his morning routine, makes coffee, breakfast and lunch for both of you. afterwards he gets ready for work, slipping on his uniform and boots. after a while you emerge from the room, sleepily. Jungkook thinks that you're so adorable. he greets you and peppers kisses all over your face, making you giggle against him. you do your own routine, drink the coffee and eat the breakfast he's made, ever so grateful to him. once you're ready as well, you both head out together.

Jungkook drives to your workplace with a hand on your thigh, caressing with his thumb now and then. once at the hospital, Jungkook reaches over, cups the back of your neck and pulls you in for a deep kiss. he inserts his tongue into your mouth, tasting you and exploring you. his hand on your thigh wanders further up, getting too close to your core.

"Jungkook!" you gasp against his lips, hitting his hand, with a giggle. "you're going to make me needy before work, you psycho!"

he grins against your mouth and steals another deep and dirty kiss. "good. then you'll think about me all day."

already starting to heat up, you pull away and grab your bag. "goodbye, you." you smile as you hop out, blowing him a kiss. Jungkook watches you walk toward the entrance, making sure you're all the way in before he drives off to his workshop. as he drives, he counts down the hours until he can see you again.

–––

days later, it's a chilly Sunday morning. a nice day off for you, but unfortunately not for Jungkook. he's already ready for the day – morning routine completed, breakfast eaten, work attire on. it's chilly, so you're buried under the covers. still, you reach for him with a sleepy whine, grabbing him and tugging him toward you.

"No, Jungkook. please don't go. it's Sunday, stay with me."

Jungkook's heart squeezes hard. he's supposed to be out the door already, but how can he go when you're like this? he sits on the edge of the bed, close to you.

"baby, I know. I've just got a few things to do. I'll be back as soon as I can."

you sit up and wrap your arms around his waist, breathing him in. "but I miss you already. you work too hard, kook."

Jungkook watches you for a long moment, his expression softening. he grins, loosens your arms around your waist and pushes you back down to lay so he can hover over you. "yeah? you miss me that much?"

he leans down and kisses you deeply, pouring his love into it. you kiss him back, sighing in contentment as you move your mouth with his passionately. after a while, Jungkook breaks the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw, then down to your neck. he sucks and nips on your skin, leaving light marks.

"gonna be back to you soon, baby," he promises. "but I'm gonna make it up to you now, yeah?"

your eyes widen at his tone. "Jungkook..."

he keeps going, he kisses you lower, kissing your collar bone, your breasts over your thin pyjama top. he pulls the neckline of your top down enough to expose them to him. he leans down to suck them, causing you to arch up into him and tug on his hair. many days without physically intimacy has you made you both very sensitive and desperate. you moan softly and that sound goes straight to Jungkook's cock, causing it to harden in his pants.

he pulls back from licking and sucking on your breasts to look at you. "let me take care of you."

slowly, he works his way down your body. he kisses and sucks on your skin as he makes his descent down your body. he lifts the hem of your shirt, exposing your stomach, he leaves open-mouthed kisses on it and licks on it, making you giggle a little.

"kook, I'm cold..."

Jungkook grabs the blanket on the bed and pulls it over both of you. under the covers, he continues his sweet assault of kisses. he kisses along the waistband of your shorts before hooking his finger in and tugging it down along with your panties. he settles between your thighs, his broad shoulders keeping your legs apart. he leans and kisses your core, lightly rubbing his lips against your lips.

"so pretty. missed this." he murmurs against you.

you moan his name softly, music to his ears. he takes his time, making out with your pussy lightly, showing how much he actually missed it. he kisses your folds and nips at the bud. after his gentleness, he dives in, licking a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit. he does it multiple times, does it slowly so that he can savour your taste. he groans, causing you to whimper softly. he pecks your clit before bringing it into his mouth, he twirls his tongue around it making you arch up into him and grip his hair.

Jungkook eats you out with such ferocious passion. due to your busy schedules, it's been a while since he's gotten to go down on you. and now that he's here , he's determined to devour you whole. he licks harder, thrusting his tongue into your entrance while grinding his nose against your clit. his hands grip your thighs, digging in and encouraging you to squeeze them around his head. you whimper softly, growing more desperate for him. it fuels him up more, he eats you out with more enthusiasm. his tongue works faster, sucking and licking at your pussy. he's got you panting and writhing, sensitive but seeking more and more from him. it doesn't take very long before your thighs are trembling around his head, and your pussy starts fluttering around his tongue. Jungkook swallows your release, and slowly licks you through your orgasm until you're lightly pushing him away, feeling too sensitive.

when he's done and satisfied, he emerges from under the blanket with his nose, lips and chin glistening, his eyes dark. he hovers over you again and you pull him down into a passionate kiss, tasting yourself. you rub your knee against his cock, feeling the hardened, thick bulge in his pants. he hisses and moans into the kiss.

"kookie... I wanna help you." you whisper, reaching for his belt.

Jungkook takes your hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss before resting his forehead on yours. "you can help me after work."

you give him a disappointed pout which he kisses off your lips. "be good for me while I'm gone, yeah?" he gives you another peck. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." you murmur.

he steals one last kiss and forces himself up. with a small groan, he adjusts himself in his pants, gets his keys and heads for the door.

–––

the apartment feels too quiet after Jungkook left. you stay in bed for several minutes after, inhaling his scent and feeling his warmth that are both still faint in the sheets. you wanted to go back to sleep, but the ache and need made it almost impossible. that man and his mouth, he's only made you hungrier for him. after a long while, you finally drag yourself out of bed and wander to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

most of the morning goes by quick. you clean up, do the laundry, watch comfort shows. but you feel lonely and bored. Jungkook's supposed to be at home with you. but of course, you understand, he also had to be at his workshop. he's got a great reputation to uphold and customers to satisfy. he works so hard, his workshop is the best and most reliable in town. he built it up from nothing, so it's something he really values. you're extremely proud of him, but at the same time – not getting enough time with him makes your heart ache.

by early afternoon, you're curled up on the couch, reading a book when your phone starts ringing. you gasp, feeling a wave of happiness at the sight of the caller ID. you answer it and bring it to your ear.

"hi, baby," Jungkook greets, his voice rough and already sounding tired.

"Jungkook. I was just thinking about you." you say, barely being able to hide the excitement in your voice.

he chuckles warmly. "yeah? same, I've been thinking about you the whole day. how are you, baby?"

"I'm okay... although, I miss you like crazy. how about you? how are you? how's work? you sound exhausted already."

"it's busy as hell." he admits. you hear machinery and clanking of tools in the background. "but I'm good. just missing you. wish I was home with you instead of covered in grease."

you sigh and tell him how bad you miss him. afterwards you both fall into sweet talk. you tell him about all that you've done today, he tells you about work and his customers. you giggle at some of the stories he shares, he smiles warmly, loving the sound.

after a moment you finally ask the question you've been dreading. "what time are you coming home?"

Jungkook sighs heavily. "I'm gonna be late, sweetheart. I sent the guys home early since it's Sunday. I'm doing the heavy work by myself, it's gonna take a while. I'm sorry."

you bite your bottom lip and keep quiet for a long time. Jungkook knows that you aren't saying anything because you're upset. and nothing irks him more than upsetting you.

"hey...don't do that," he says gently. "I know you're upset. I'm really sorry, y/n. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

you hum softly. "I know you will. it's just... we haven't been spending much time together lately. I get it, you're busy and the shop is doing well, but we barely even get to be intimate... I miss it, kook."

Jungkook doesn't speak for a short moment, before he hums in agreement. "you're right. I haven't been making enough time for you. I've been pulling so many long days and extra hours. You deserve better than a boyfriend who's always at his workshop."

"you're the best boyfriend." you remind him. "I just want you."

"fuck, I know." he exhales a breath. "when I get home, I'm gonna make love to you. gonna fuck you so good, baby. make up for all the lost time."

you gasp, your body heating up at his words. "Jungkook..."

"you like the sound of that?" he asks, finding himself very eager to get home and make good on his promise.

"you know I do." you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. "you gonna wait for me, hmm?"

"yes."

"good girl," he praises. you hear more tools clinking in the background before Jungkook speaks again. "hey, why don't you go to the mall? I'll send you money. go spoil yourself, baby."

a smile tugs at your lips. "yeah, okay. that sounds good."

"okay, baby. have fun. see you later, yeah?"

"see you later, kook. I love you."

"I love you more, baby."

you hang up. soon after, your phone buzzes with a notification –  Jungkook’s sent a very generous amount of money. oh, how he loves to spoil you rotten. 

about two hours later, you run a nice, hot bath and sink into it. you sit in it for a very long time, letting the water ease the light aches on your body caused from the work this week. when you get out, you dry yourself and moisturise your body before slipping into something simple for the drive to the mall. you head down to your cute, little car – kind of the reason you had met the love of your life in the first place – get in and start the engine before pulling onto the road and heading toward the mall.

–––

at the mall, you wander through the stores, deciding to get some cute clothes and some provocative attire for later on. you pick some different kinds of dresses – beautiful, soft, see-through and silky ones in the prettiest colours. afterwards, your real fun starts when you get to the lingerie store. you spend a long time browsing, choosing pieces you know Jungkook will love and go crazy over. after an hour or two, you’re leaving the store with multiple bags.

by the time you get home, you excitedly unpack everything and lay them on the bed. your favourite has to be the matching set pink lace bra with the thin lace panties. so you try it on. upon realising that it fits you so perfectly and makes you look so sexy, you decide to take some provocative pictures. just to tease Jungkook a little. you send them to him, eagerly awaiting his reply. but after a few hours, you receive not a single reply from him.. you know that he’s busy, but still, you feel restless and in need of his attention since he’s supposed to spend today with you. a silly thought crosses your mind. why wait for him to reply when you could pay him a little visit? he sent the guys home so that means he’s all alone...

keeping the new set on, you throw over a pretty sundress, grab your keys and head out once again. the drive to his shop is close by, maybe like fifteen minutes away. once you;re there, you park your car in front and step out. the front door is locked, but of course you have your own key. you quietly open it and make your way inside, the smell of motor oil and metal welcomes you immediately. as strange as it is, the smell has sort of become very comforting to you. you walk further into the big workshop, hearing the clinking of tools in the back, along with a few rough and tired grunts that can only belong to your boyfriend. you follow the sound, finding Jungkook under an older, extremely rare Mercedes. seems to be a vintage, maroon model that definitely costs a fortune.

Jungkook is under the car, on his back on a creeper with his legs sticking out and his shirt riding up, exposing his abs along with the smear of grease on his skin. you bite your lip, admiring the majestic sight as you shamelessly press your thighs together. he has no idea how hot he looks so busy and focused, covered in the evidence of his hard work. when he’s about to reach for the spanner next to him, he turns his head in your direction and when he does, your eyes meet. confusion flashes in his, for a second he thinks maybe he’s hallucinating your figure, but upon realising that you’re not a figment of his imagination, a bright and boyish smile breaks across his face. he rolls out from under the car and stands up, towering you as he walks into your space. seeing him up close, you notice how sweaty he is, how messy his hair is. fuck, you would suck his cock so hard right now.

“baby? what are you doing here?” he asks.

you run straight into his arms, holding him tightly. again, he hesitates not wanting to get his dirty hands on you. noticing his hovering hands, you hook a leg around his hip, hoping he’ll get the message, and lift you up. thankfully he does. his strong hands go under your thighs as he lifts you up with ease, smearing some grease onto your skin. you wrap your legs around him and your dress rides up a little. you bury your face in his neck, breathing him in.

“I missed you,” you admit before pressing soft kisses along his neck. “you also weren’t replying to me.”

Jungkook lets out a little groan as holds you tighter, using the opportunity to breathe in your sweet scent. “sorry, baby.” he murmurs, now pressing soft and apologetic kisses on your neck. “I didn’t see them. I’ve been so busy under this thing, I lost track of time. I’m really sorry.” he pulls back to pout his lips. “forgive me?”

a little smile forms on your lips and your heart warms up. you lean in and kiss his lips softly. the kiss starts off so sweet and slow, but soon turns passionate and hungry. your mouths move hungrily together, expressing how much you’ve both missed each other. Jungkook shifts you higher, using the opportunity to move his hands from your thighs to your ass cheeks. after a moment of kissing, you eventually pull away, panting. you cup his jaw and caress his cheeks with your hands as you gaze into his endlessly loving eyes.

“what happened to coming home early?” you ask.

Jungkook’s face scrunches. he glances at the Mercedes then back at you with an apologetic expression. “I got a bit caught up.” he admits. “this beauty needed some love and servicing. it’s such a rare one. I’m sorry, baby. I really thought I’d finish it quickly.”

you shake your head, and let out a soft sigh before wiggling a little to make him release you from his hold. once you’re on your feet again, you turn to the car to look at it properly. it truly is stunning. you know how much Jungkook loves cars like this. he’s been talking about finding one like it for years, and honestly, you’ve fallen in love with the dream alongside him. you walk around the car slowly, trailing your fingers alongside the doors and bonnet.

“it’s beautiful,” you sincerely say before turning back to look up at him. “I can see why you got caught up.”

Jungkook follows your trail, smiling as he watches you admire his new, rare piece. “yeah? you like it?”

you hum while nodding. “a lot.”

“hmm. you should hear the engine.” he says excitedly, your heart flutters at that look on his face.

when you’re both near the driver’s door, he opens it for you. “come on, sit.”

you huff out a little laugh and slide into the leather seat. Jungkook leans in close to you and reaches over to adjust the seat for you. when he turns his head to glance at you, his breath fans your face. he pecks the tip of your nose, making you giggle.

“start her up,” he says.

you turn the key until the engine starts. “wow.” you breathe, listening to the rev. “it sounds amazing.”

to you, it truly does. but to the experienced mechanic, he hears something he’s not too fond of. something that needs to be fixed at once. “hold on.. switch it off for a second.”

he gets back under. the car moves a little as he fiddles with something, and again, you hear the sound of tools clinking. after a few minutes, he emerges again. from inside the car, you take a good look at him. there’s new motor oil smeared across his collarbone, dripping inside his shirt. his veiny arms and long, thick fingers are even greasier. it must be the ovulation demon speaking again, but you desperately need to fuck him. he walks back and leans back inside the car, crowding your space. this time he starts the engine. as it revs, it sounds even smoother. it sounds perfect. but you’re not so concerned about the car, your eyes linger on Jungkook. you lick your lips at the fine sight. you lean in and lick a long stripe across the side of his neck before licking his earlobe and then catching it between your teeth.

“can I take it for a ride?” you whisper. a little bit teasing.

Jungkook’s eyes darken. he glances sideways at you. he doesn’t answer you. he licks into your mouth, kisses you deep and nibbles on your bottom lip, causing you to whimper needily, before speaking. “not yet.” he says, roughly against your lips. “still got a few things to sort out. but soon, baby.”

“okay.” you whisper with a sweet smile, despite your mind wandering off to dark and filthy places.

he pulls back reluctantly and goes to the front of the car to close the bonnet. quickly you make your way out and walk over to Jungkook, closing the distance between you. he turns to look down at you, you use the opportunity to push him down until he’s on the edge of the closed bonnet. his eyes widen in surprise as you climb onto his lap and straddle him, looping your arms around his neck. your dress rides up high on your thighs as you settle on him.

“if I can’t take the car for a ride...’ you lean in to speak near his ear. “can I take you for a ride instead?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. feeling you press against him so deliciously makes his cock twitch hard beneath you. “baby...” he starts off, his voice so low and hesitant.

he looks down at his hands – dirty with oil and grease, then at his work attire. “I’m kinda gross right now. we should wait until I–”

you don’t let him finish. you shut him up by cupping his face to pull him in for a deep kiss. he groans into it, kissing you back, not being able to help himself. he inserts his tongue into your mouth, exploring your mouth, letting you do the same to him. you both make out desperately, like you’re trying to devour and consume each other. your noses are pressed together, causing your breaths to mingle as you both moan. you notice his hands hovering near your hips, like he’s uncertain if whether he should touch you or not. you grab his wrists and guide them down, making him hold you.

“touch me.” you whisper against his lips.

he groans and slides his hands under your dress, gripping your thighs and your ass, causing the grease from his hands to smear onto your skin. he pulls you hard against you, encouraging you grind on him to feel the thick and hard bulge in his pants. you grind against it again and again, rolling your hips on him so your clothed pussy rubs against him.

“fuck,” he grunts into your mouth.

he kisses you deep and dirtily again while you continue to grind against him, making his cock throb beneath you. eagerly, your hands make their way down to his pants so you can open the buttons and pull the zipper down. when you get his pants open, Jungkook lifts up his hips and helps you get his pants, along with his boxers down his thighs, just enough to free his cock. it springs free against his stomach, it’s hard, big and licking at the tip. you barely get time to admire it because Jungkook’s hands are on the hem of your dress so he can pull it up over your head and discard near his toolbox.

when his gaze is back on you, his throws his head back and curses roughly. “holy shit.” the pink lingerie accentuates your figure perfectly and Jungkook cannot be more grateful to call you his. you’re such a vision, so fucking perfect he might cry or bust a nut right now. he leans a bit down to latch his mouth onto your cleavage. hungrily, he kisses and sucks along the tops of your breasts, leaving open mouthed kisses and sucking marks onto you. you tilt your head back and moan loudly as he continues his sweet assault.

“these are so fucking pretty,”  he says hoarsely, tracing the fabric. “but they’re gonna get messed up.”

“I don;t care,” you breathe out needily. “I just want you, please.”

Jungkook takes a moment to admire you, his eyes lingering on the lace on your body. one of his hands moves behind to unclasp your bra, causing grease to smear across it as he unhooks it and pulls the straps down your shoulders before discarding the bra onto his tools. your breasts spill free, nipples already pebbled and begging for attention. Jungkook lets out a low curse before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it greedily and twirling his tongue around it. he moves to the other and gives it the same treatment before pulling back and biting down on your breast. he sucks on it, leaving marks. as he bites and sucks on one of your breasts, he kneads the other with his big, greasy hand.

you tug on his hair with one of your hands, holding him against your chest while your other hand makes its way between the both you so you can wrap it around his hard cock. its big and thick in your hand as you pump it, using your thumb to rub circles on the leaking tip, making him hiss and hum against your breasts. as he devours at your breasts, and you stroke his cock, you keep grinding against him, becoming awfully aroused.

“Jungkook... I want you inside me. please.”

with a wet pop, he pulls back from your breasts with heavy lidded, lustful eyes looking up at you. “I can’t prep you properly, baby.” he holds up his hand, showing you the grease and motor oil still on it. “you’re gonna have to take me like this. will you manage?”

you nod eagerly.

“you sure?” he asks, wanting to make sure you’re certain.

you cup his face and speak breathlessly. “Jungkook, just fuck me.”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip and he nods. he’s so eager for this as well. at this point, he’s dying to be inside you. “okay, sweetheart.”

his messy hands go down to your hips, tugging at your panties. you lift up so he can pull them down and take them completely off. once they’re off, he bunches it in his hand and without breaking eye contact, he brings it to his nose. he deeply inhales the scent, taking in the new smell mixed the scent of you. he hums appreciatively before tossing it down on his tools, along with your bra. afterwards, he firmly grips your ass cheeks and lifts you up. you reach between your bodies, wrap your hand around his cock again and guide it toward your soaked entrance. since you haven’t gotten any prep, you and him haven’t been sexually active in so long, and he’s so fucking huge – you know that this is going to hurt. but still, you sink down slowly. his tip enters you and you whimper. luckily, you’re so wet and eager, it helps with the burn. Jungkook’s grip on your ass tightens, controlling your descent on his cock so you don’t take him too fast.

“easy, baby.” he murmurs against your cheek before kissing it. he pulls you closer, so your chest is against his. “is it too much?” he asks.

you nod and your eyes water, but you keep going. you whimper as his cock thoroughly stretches your walls. he holds you comfortingly and whispers praises as he kisses you wherever he can, while you take him inch by inch. he’s panting, fighting the urge to thrust up into you. after a moment, you’re finally all sunken down on him, all the way. you drop your head onto his shoulder, panting hard against him as you try to adjust. he wraps his arms around you, one hand caresses your back soothingly.

“you okay, baby? talk to me.’

you nod and exhale shakily. “yeah...i’m okay. just really full.”

after a moment, you decide to move a bit. you roll your hips and lift up a little before sinking back down. Jungkook grunts deeply. “fuck, you’re so tight and soaked.”

you hum and go a little faster once the discomfort fades. Jungkook helps, using his grip on your ass, he slowly lifts you up and slams you back down on him. soon enough, the pain fades away completely and turns into pleasure. you begin to ride him harder, bouncing faster on his cock. you’re absolute ecstasy, so happy to have him like this again. Jungkook feels the exact same way. there’s nothing more relieving than being buried inside you. he’s in pure bliss.

“that’s it, baby,” he groans.

he helps you bounce harder, thrusting up into you so get in deeper. your breasts bounce near his face, he uses the opportunity to bury his nose between them for a moment, inhaling you scent before leaning back to lick and suck at your nipples again. his hazy eyes look at the grease marks his hands left on your breasts, alongside the hickeys he’s sucked onto you. he feels a deep sense of satisfaction, seeing how you look so marked up by him.

you rake your nails down his back and his broad shoulders, before threading your fingers through his hair to pull him in to peck his parted lips. both of you pant into each other’s mouths as your paces become more desperate. the workshop is filled with the wet sounds of your skin meeting his, your loud moans, Jungkook’s groans and praises.

“I’m gonna come soon,” you say breathlessly.

“me too, baby.” Jungkook admits, thrusting up into you harder.

you both keep going until you release first. your pussy flutters around him as you come hard with a cry. the feeling of you releasing around his cock pushes Jungkook over the edge as well. he buries himself deep inside you with a groan and fills you up. for a long moment you both stay panting and clinging to each other, reeling from the high. once you’ve both calmed down a little, you smash your lips together in a hungry and heated kiss. you hum into his mouth when his tongue slides into your mouth. eventually, Jungkook pulls back and scoops you up in his arms again, securely holding you under your thighs. he carries you to the side of the Mercedes, lets you down and turns you around so your front presses against the window at the door. your breasts squish against the glass, causing your nipples to harden at the slight coolness.

the position you’re in exposes your ass, and he takes advantage of it. he grips your ass cheeks and spreads them before delivering a delicious smack to one of them. Jungkook admires the greasy handprint he left behind, a perfect print of his hand. he feels a deep sense of possessiveness.

“look at that...” he murmurs proudly.

he leans in close so his lips brush your ear, he licks your earlobe and nips on it. “you gonna let me fuck you, baby?”

you whimper, feeling your legs tremble. the first round was phenomenal, but you do need more of him, so much more. to make up for the lost time. you nod eagerly. “yes...please.”

Jungkook hums before kissing along the side of your neck while roaming his hands over you. he gropes your ass, squeezes your breasts, and pinches your nipples. his cock hardens, rubbing against your soaked pussy. you push back against him, impatient and desperate to have him inside you again. he moves his hand away from your breast and lightly wraps it around his cock, rubbing the tip between your folds teasingly.

you whine and push back against him harder. “Jungkook, stop teasing me.”

“sorry, baby.” he whispers and kisses your shoulder apologetically.

he then lines himself up and pushes in slowly, stretching you again. you gasp at thefeeling. slowly, very slowly he keeps going, penetrating you inch by inch while he caresses your hips soothingly. every couple of seconds, he gently asks if you’re okay. you assure him that you are, and only then does he continue going in. he uses the grip on your hips to pull you back against him so he can sink in deeper until he’s completely buried inside you again. the fullness of him makes you moan.

“you good/” he asks, staying completely still for a moment, getting you used to him again.

“yes–” you say.

Jungkook starts moving, slowly thrusting in and out of you. it doesn’t take you long to get used to the stretch.  when you tell him to go faster, he doesn’t hesitate. his grip on your hips tightens, he makes you arch your back more, so the angle can be deeper. the movements causes your breasts to slide against the window, leaving humid marks on the glass every time he thrusts in and out. you moan as he starts slamming his hips into you.

“faster, Jungkook..”

he groans, more than happy to fulfil your demand. his pace becomes animalistic as he fucks you faster, causing the car to rock slightly. your hands press against the window for leverage as he relentlessly slams his cock into you. you’re feeling so cock drunk, so lost in the ecstatic feeling of being fucked so good and loved so much. you murmur incoherent things, your breath fogging up the window. after a while of snapping his hips into you, he leans in close to roughly speak.

“I’m close, baby.”

“me too..” you whimper.

after  a few more deep thrusts, you release again, clenching hard around him. right after you do, he’s burying himself deep and releasing as well. he fucks your combined releases into your pussy. he keeps thrusting into you until you’re complaining about being oversensitive. you both stay there for a moment, joined and panting. after a while you let out a soft laugh against the window. you turn your head to peep at him over your shoulder.

“you know?” you start off teasingly. “your service is so good. think I’m gonna need regular maintenance.”

Jungkook chuckles. “yeah? you think so?”

“hmm. gonna need it every single night.” you mumble.

Jungkook groans and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder before pulling out. for a second, he watches your combined releases dripping down your thigh before turning you around to face him. he pecks your lips, and then reaches for your discarded sundress.

“gotta give my girl what she wants.” he helps you slip the dress on. once its on, he pecks your lips again. “come on. let’s get going. we’re gonna need a nice long shower when we get home.”

you hum tiredly, watching as he pulls his pants up. “we can fuck in the shower too.” you mumble with a giggle.

Jungkook grins, finding himself extremely fond of the idea. “yeah, baby. we can.”

hii pumkins !! i lowkey had a mini panic attack while writing this + i was extremely stressed about some other things, so apologies if its kinda weird¿

you both came from broken homes, with your parents entangled in the world of drugs and abuse, his absent more times than present. you had each other though, and that was all either of you had ever really needed - that much had been true for years. it didn’t take long to fall in love with him, not when he treated you like blooming flowers in the first touch of spring; you were more than just his girl. you were his y/n.

no one blinked when he proposed, everyone half expecting it, and neither of you had wanted to wait to plan a lavish wedding when you were both the only constants in each other’s lives. and so, with cheap rings, a random dress you had found at the bottom of your wardrobe and his scuffed shoes - you had become husband and wife.

jungkook was the best partner you could have ever asked for. money was tight in the beginning as he threw himself into his job, making sure he had enough to spoil you rotten even if that meant coming home exhausted. it killed you to see him working so hard, but he never complained, not even once. it was done in the pursuit of his sweet wife, and therefore just.

he quickly began climbing the ranks, his intelligence unmatched, his speed and efficiency making him a force to be reckoned with. in a mere seven years, he had managed to go from the lowest ranking worker in the company right to head office, before formally being announced as ceo.

it was unheard of. people like him, people like you, they didn’t live like this. it felt like over night your entire life had changed, as the tiny, one bed apartment transformed into a penthouse suite in your city’s most reputable area, your beaten down car now more lavish than you could ever dream of. your clothes - silks, linens and luxurious patterns. you were a changed woman, all at the hands of your husband.

that was when the cracks had began to form.

the late nights began, jungkook holed up in his office for far longer than anyone else at the company, stacks of paper all around as he tried to crack numbers before the next day could bring its own workload. you didn’t mind at first, more so worried over anything else.

you packed late dinners, going up to his office and eating them with him just to keep him company, to ground him which he needed more than you could ever realise. he would sit you on his lap as he worked, all whilst you napped peacefully on his shoulder as though this was perfectly normal.

the first few months, it worked. after that, it could no longer hide the gaping hole that had begun to appear.

missed dinners. missed dates. jungkook showing up at two in the morning despite everyone else going home at five in the afternoon - this wasn’t normal. wasn’t healthy. the amount of arguments that were being caused due to his workaholic nature was alarming, especially considering neither of you had ever even raised your voices to one another prior to this.

your heart was getting heavier and heavier.

not because you doubted his love for you - that wasn’t even a question in your mind, that much was certain. if anything, jungkook loved you too much, entirely and wholly, with every single decision made in his life somehow tracing back to you in one way or another. whether it was purchasing things, buying them with the intent of impressing you, making you happy or smile. every opportunity, every signed contract, every bastard fucking meeting that he could feel so deeply in his bones was done with the intention of giving you a life so soft you would never experience hardship again.

that was where the problem lay.

jungkook didn’t know how to love in a way that could nurture your relationship through this, and so, he did the only thing he could. he sacrificed.

slowly, painfully, the realisation that somewhere between the neglect, the late nights and unanswered phone calls, your husband had stopped being your husband at all. he had become a mere ghost in your shared home.

the night you had made your decision was one that felt imprinted in your memory.

it was past midnight, the harsh light of your phone reminding you with each passing moment. the rain was harsh too, with it being the middle of autumn, causing you to curl deeper into the covers on your bed but it did nothing to chase the cold away. dinner had long gone cold downstairs, with your housekeeper giving you a long, sad look before leaving to her own home, patting you on the shoulder in comfort.

your heart hurt so fucking much.

your phone was untouched, with messages sent hours prior despite the lack of response.

‘where are you?’

‘are you coming home tonight?’

‘jungkook, you promised.’

‘i miss you.’

you felt pathetic. humiliation ran up and down your veins at the thought of having to beg for a morsel of attention from your husband, but what else were you supposed to do? what else could you do? loneliness had a tendency to do that to people.

the sound of the front door finally opening had your eyes looking up, no longer staring into space, thinking. overthinking.

jungkook finally stumbled in, hours and hours late, shoulders tense and black coat half wet due to the rain outside. his phone had died hours ago, and his brain was a jumble of numbers and stakeholders, still muttering under his breath over something one of his colleagues had said. he was exhaustion personified.

“baby.” he exhaled deeply upon the sight of you still up.

1:47am.

you stared at him, unable to focus on anything in particular as your reddened eyes somehow glinted in the moonlit essence of the room. his heart ached.

“you missed it again.” you whispered, barely audible.

another dinner sat cold. jungkook had noticed it on his way up, muttering a small fuck under his breath, but seeing you now? something had changed, something was different and the sight scared him to death.

“i know, i..”

“you said you’d be home for six.”

“i know baby, i’m so sorry, we had an emergency shareholders meeting and it was just..fuck.”

“it’s always an emergency.” you muttered bitterly.

the silence that followed felt suffocating to you both.

he carefully placed his things at the door before approaching you slowly, as though you were a wounded fawn struck by an arrow from his own back - it was his fault. he knew that, he could see it.

“i’m trying.” he whispered softly, as he crouched to meet your eyes.

that was the worst thing of all - of course he was trying. you knew he was, you could see it in every single thing he did but that was the part that made it so much more painful. it was unbearable.

tears burned harshly behind your eyes, lip openly trembling as you stared at the only man to have ever felt your affection, the love of your life. the same man that would set himself on fire just to keep you warm, who had done this all for you - even you knew that but, the pain. you weren’t sure when loving him had started to hurt this badly.

“i don’t need..i don’t want any of this, jungkook.” you corrected as your voice cracked, hands gesturing to the too large room. “don’t care about penthouses or cars, or money..”

“it’s not about that.”

“then what is it about?” you cried, months and months of neglect finally collapsing all at once. “because i’m losing you anyway.”

the devastation that appeared on his face would have floored you on any other occasion, but the horrible feeling that had taken over was consuming you from the inside out. you couldn’t rid yourself of your thoughts, the looming decision that had grown and grown and grown, so much so that it felt bigger than you in both mind and body. you couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to.

“i feel so lonely.” you admitted honestly, a broken sob leaving your lips. “you’re all i have..all i’ve ever had and i feel lonely.”

the words physically wounded him as he felt his own tears begin to form, a horrible realisation fluttering through his body - this wasn’t fixable. he could see it now, the utter pain in your eyes, the way your body shook as you cried, and though he was crouched in front of you, arms wrapping around you; it wasn’t enough.

“i’ll fix this. i’ll fix this, fuck. y/n..” he shook, holding you so tightly, his heart beating out of his chest. “give me time. give me a chance. give me something, give me anything.”

you only cried harder at his words, collapsing entirely as the sobs racked through your body violently. you knew he meant it, knew he meant every single word, and you genuinely believed it too but you were tired.

so, so tired.

you knew that the love between you, no matter how deep, could not survive on patched up apologies and promises no longer.

the separation happened three weeks later.

perhaps that was too cruel of you - you should have given him more time, more chances, another opportunity to prove himself to you so he could actually begin repairing something that had already long collapsed before he had ever realised the damage. staying felt too painful, as though you were prodding delicate skin with a million sharpened blades. for once in your entire existence, you chose yourself.

you hated yourself for it.

you could no longer survive off of the memories of who your husband had once been, the once sweet teenage boy who slept on the streets with you just so you’d feel safe from the grasps of your parents. the man who had ran home to tell you about his promotion, who then sobbed in your arms at the mere prospect of getting to give you the life you deserved. oh, how each and every fibre of your being yearned for him, how it knew him by breath alone and yet it wasn’t enough. nothing could possibly hurt more.

packing your things nearly killed him. you remembered it vividly.

jungkook stood silently in the doorway of your shared bedroom, watching numbly, as though his soul had left his entire body as you packed up remnants of a life once shared with him. cardboard boxes were filled with your books, your makeup, your silly trinkets you had acquired together - the sight of you crying as you packed your wedding album so delicately was enough to have him bite back his own sob, shaking his head at the reality of the situation.

he hadn’t stopped you. it was the worst part.

jungkook was intimidating to most; hardened by his life experiences and the struggle he had been raised in, his only priority for the past decade being you. you didn’t like to go into his work, knowing he was quite literally a different person there - efficient, yes, but also ruthless. and yet, he stood, watching you as though his eyes couldn’t comprehend the scene in front of him, tears wiped harshly from his face in fear that it would only upset you more.

even in moments like this, he put you first.

his hands sat caged on either side of him, as you sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. he wanted nothing more than to pick you up, cradle you, cherish you the way he so desperately wanted but in his love for you came your happiness. he was a man devoted to you, and he couldn’t cage you somewhere you no longer felt happy staying - he loved you too much to ever do that.

the divorce proceedings were somehow so much worse.

the media frenzy surrounding jeon jungkook, the elusive ceo who was known for his mysterious persona and dark eyes, was quite literally unbearable. the sudden separation exploded all over the tabloids and the internet, with headlines appearing faster than either of you could keep up with. the hate was too much, to which jungkook stepped in to silence everyone behind the scenes, throwing an insane amount of money at journalists to keep your name out of their filthy mouths. wife or not, you were one half of him and he’d be damned if you were spoken of in anyway that wasn’t praiseworthy.

you couldn’t even look at him during the hearings.

god, you tried. you wanted to, managing to sneak little glances where you caught him already staring at you, despair all over his face, but you couldn’t handle it, tears streaming out of your eyes almost immediately. he knew you loved him. he could see it, clear as day.

he looked sick, as though he hadn’t eaten for weeks, the mere sight of you enough to sustain him until the next meeting, where your feet lightly brushed against one another underneath the table in a subconscious way.

he barely spoke, only choosing to actually speak when he was asked a question, but other than that, he spent his time in the meetings staring at you longingly. he’d whisper a soft “don’t cry” whenever he’d see you tear up, your lip quivering each time you snuck a glance over, despite knowing it was breaking you.

he signed everything over to you immediately. his lawyers had practically choked, eyes wide as he silenced them almost harshly for even suggesting anything otherwise, your own eyebrows pulling together as you tried to reject. you didn’t want his money, you didn’t want what he had worked so hard for.

the penthouse, the cars, the accounts. every. fucking. thing.

“jungkook..” you had whispered through tears at the table, addressing him for the first time in so long. “i don’t want any of this, it’s yours. you’ve worked so hard.”

hearing you was enough to provide the energy he had been lacking, the very blood in his bloodstream pumping harder as he shook his head at you, offended.

“i got those things for you. it never belonged to me..was always yours.” he whispered back, causing you to look down with another choked sob.

it was the final hearing that truly cemented the empty hole inside of you.

your hands shook violently, so much so that you were unable to pick up your pen and sign away your marriage, the one thing you needed to do to finally let him go. everyone in the room frowned as they watched you, face flooded with tears as your digits simply refused, as though your body rejected the notion as being entirely unnatural. they all felt pity for you, for both of you - you both were clearly in love, and they couldn’t understand the gravity of the situation between you.

jungkook had stood from his side of the table, walking over to you until his hand had softly encapsulated your own, your quiet sobs only growing harsher at the feel of the one person you had been craving for so long. he held it, guiding you to your own, helping you write your name on the dotted line despite every part of his body aching.

ex-husband.

the thought should have killed you.

once it was signed, he held onto your hand, too scared to let go as the documents were taken, your lawyers and his slowly leaving the room, leaving you be. you should have let go, should have pushed him away as he no longer had any tie to you - you weren’t married, you weren’t together. alas, the thought felt sacrilegious.

instead, he knelt, knees hitting the hardened floor below you as your red eyes met his properly. entirely.

“i’ll fix this.” he promised you, voice no longer shaking, as you could hear the depth of his promise to you. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby, but you’ll come back to me. i’ll come back to you better, i’ll be worthy. i promise you, y/n.” he whispered.

another sob climbed up your throat, mean and harsh, as your body collapsed against the chair you were sat in, your emotion taking a complete hold over you.

because even then, after everything, you knew his words to be true. you knew home would be waiting.

—

eight months had passed now, and soon came the first touch of summer. the bleak sky had become brighter, clouds hibernating and birds chirping as the world became warmer, accommodating for the transition into what most would describe as a joyous time. unfortunately for you, your body was still recovering from what could only be described as the most traumatic stage of your life thus far.

everything felt unnatural and wrong - you were trying to keep up despite it moving a million miles around you.

even after all this time, your stomach still dropped whenever you’d see anything that referred to him as your ex husband, as though your mind and heart needed a moment to catch up. how could jungkook ever simply become an ex anything to you?

he had existed in your life for so long that removing him felt akin to ripping a vital organ out of your body, all whilst expected to function entirely normally. how could you? you suppose you were failing, really, with the way you moved through life out of necessity instead of want.

the tabloids loved him now more than ever. it was the paradox of tragedy, you assumed, as you knew how badly the world yearned for a broken hearted lover.

the youngest ceo in the country’s history, a billionaire bachelor - the elusive businessman was on the top of every social hierarchy, whilst people spoke about you in hushed whispers. the only woman to have ever gotten away. who were you? why did you leave? why did he leave you with so much?

he had become so much colder after the divorce, and people picked up on it like rats with forgotten food.

the media had always labelled him as an intimidating man, but now, there was no way of denying it. there was something unsettling about the pictures that were being papped of him, your hungry eyes taking him in top to bottom, nibbling your lip - he looked so different. broad shoulders remained the same, but he seemed bigger, no doubt taking out his pain in the gym. it was the look in his eyes, however, that had your stomach in knots.

he looked dead whilst alive.

jeon jungkook was heartbroken, and the world knew it clear as day.

he had dealt with it the only way he knew how - by burying himself six feet deep into his work, knowing he had nothing to come home to, often times sleeping in his office just so he could ignore the silence of his house.

meanwhile, you had spent the last eight months trying to learn how to exist without him.

the humiliation at first was all you were reminded of, as you realised how deeply you had intertwined into him and vice versa. the silence in your once shared penthouse was so unbearable that you had moved into a tiny two bedroom apartment, using the spare as a storage unit for all of your books. on your nightstand still sat a picture of you both, as you secretly cried over it most nights. you couldn’t even sleep unless you wore one of his hoodies, despite his scent having washed off months ago - it was the comfort of knowing you still had a part of your marriage with you.

you missed him in every small, stupid, awful way imaginable.

the feeling of his hand, heavy and strong, on your thigh as he drove you around. the way he would cage you into any surface he could find just to smother you in kisses, or even the way he would whisper into your ear stupid jokes that had you giggling too loudly for the world to hear.

you missed your husband. you missed jungkook.

everyday you battled with the regret of your choice, especially once you’d see the way his under-eyes had sunken with the lack of sleep and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. you couldn’t live that way again, not with the neglect - not with your past trauma from your parents.

jungkook knew the gravity of his actions, knew you needed to heal and reason with them before he could come back to you but fuck, it hurt so bad to wait.

sometimes, during your weaker moments, you found yourself searching him into your phone in the dead of night, breathing out an audible sigh of relief at the confirmation he was still openly single. it was pathetic, that much you knew, but it was selfish beyond anything else. so cruel to want the man you left to be alone, simply because he still belonged to you.

you had attempted to rebuild your life slowly, carefully piecing together fragments of yourself that existed before all of this had happened. your days were quieter now, so much lonelier but it was enough to keep your mind from spiralling every second of every waking day.

some habits, however, refused to die.

his contact remained as the only favourited number in your phone, as you spent all of your time rereading old messages, despite it ending in tears. if only you knew he too did the same, with his photo album on his phone his most used app as he stared at you nightly, often falling asleep with your picture shining brightly on his screen.

you still loved him. he loved you even more.

that could never change.

-

the first flowers came on a random tuesday.

you had just experienced one of the worst days you’d had in a while, with a final meeting with one of your clients going to shit after you realised hours of work and designs had somehow corrupted, and then deleted. by the time you had returned home, you were sure the world had seen your teary state, your body heavier than usual.

as you searched your bag for your keys, your eyes peered up, noticing them.

your breath caught.

sitting neatly outside your apartment door. a bouquet, large but elegant - white gardenias. the flowers you had held at not only your wedding, but the ones jungkook would buy you for your anniversary each year.

your flowers.

your chest ached so violently you found yourself gasping for air as your legs gave out below you. you slid down the wall, fingers brushing against the delicate petals as you looked for a note, only to realise there wasn’t one. you didn’t need to see who they were from, only one person knew you well enough and your heart felt like it had been split into two as you took them in.

it wasn’t your anniversary, wasn’t any special kind of occasion, and yet here they were. bright, promising, sweet.

your vision blurred with heavy tears as the painful feeling in your body grew, throat tightening with emotion before reaching out and taking a hold of them, breathing the flowers in openly.

the scent alone was enough to destroy you.

he was everywhere, all of the time - even now. especially now.

the flowers had become a norm, a pattern that was only recognisable to you, and completely deniable to any other person looking in. you were smarter than you looked and you knew what was happening, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to call it out.

your favourite restaurant somehow managing to accommodate you always despite the line or packed out reservations list, or the paparazzi that often bullied you for your attention outside of your home mysteriously disappearing. even your car, that you had dented slightly, appeared in perfect condition as you walked down to go to work one morning, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

your chest bloomed with realisation.

jungkook.

he never appeared himself, no. never. it was unsettling really, the reminder that he was powerful and could have things done with a flick of his wrist - he was sure to never make you privy to it, so you’d always feel like he was the same boy you had met all those years ago. now? he had every intention of showing you the empire he had built for you and you alone. he lingered around you and your life like a floating ghost, invisible but permanent. you truly couldn’t get rid of him even if you tried.

three weeks later is when you felt yourself reaching breaking point.

for the first time in months, you were finally leaving the house to actually do something for fun. your best friend, yejin, who’s husband yoongi was ironically jungkook’s best friend, had forced you to come out for a drink. nothing intense, merely a nice bar where the drinks were smooth and the company was good, with slow jazz playing in the back.

exhaustion was heavy in your bones but you listened, doing your best to make yourself look nice despite how dead you felt inside. a little skirt that felt too short and a top that perhaps plunged too low - yejin had deemed you utterly perfect.

sat at the bar, you sipped your drink, wincing lightly as she yapped away about something her coworker had said. you appreciated how she refused to bring jungkook up, knowing that she couldn’t breach the topic unless you were the one to bring it up yourself. you hated how badly you wanted to, how desperate you were to find out how he was doing.

she filled the air constantly, like she was terrified of what would happen if your mind caught up to the reality of the situation, instead filling it with nonsense to occupy your demanding thoughts.

you let her.

you even found yourself laughing, the feeling and sound so startling that it reduced you to silence for a full minute afterwards as you welcomed the feeling of actual joy for the first time in so long.

you almost didn’t notice the shift in your phone, the slight light radiating from beneath as you had turned it onto its screen earlier in the evening. she, however, paused mid sentence, eyes dropping down to let you know someone was ringing.

nothing could have prepared you for the sight of his name on the screen.

the name, ‘kookie’ with a large, red heart adorned your phone as humiliation rummaged through you at the realisation you had never even bothered to change his name, the concept too painful to come to terms with. however, yejin all but gasped as she turned to you, eyes widened with an almost excitement.

“answer it.” she encouraged, hand on your back. “i’ll watch your drink.”

you weren’t sure what to say, as you nodded, staring down at the screen before shakily sliding off of your seat and heading towards the back entrance, where a smokers area sat empty. your hands shook as you cupped the phone to your chest, taking a seat before looking down at it once more.

he was calling you.

jungkook was fucking calling you.

before you could overthink, you swiped, answering it.

the phone felt hot against your ear, a reminder of what was currently happening as your heart began beating harder than it had in months, your hands shaking. for a second, neither of you spoke.

you could hear faint movement on his end, a shuffling of some sorts before he completely stilled, as though he had pushed everything he was doing to a side at the realisation you had actually answered.

“hi.”

god. your eyes squeezed shut tight almost immediately.

there he was - your jungkook. not the ceo extraordinaire that was plastered on every publication you could find, with dead eyes and a sharp expression. no, this was him. jungkook. your jungkook.

the sound alone nearly brought you to tears. you felt so pathetic.

“hi.” you whispered back, voice cracking.

silence settled again, but not awkwardly. you didn’t think an awkward silence was capable of existing between you, not when your bodies were so intertwined and so aware of one another. the distance between you was unnatural, neither of your minds able to comprehend an eight month hiatus enough to understand that this phone call alone shouldn’t have been happening.

he exhaled slowly, and your shoulders gently relaxed, your eyes closing momentarily as you imagined him. no doubt still at work, in a suit unbuttoned at the shirt, his tie long forgotten. his tattooed hand running through his hair, ruffling it the way you always would.

“you answered.” he broke you out of your thoughts.

your chest tightened painfully at the sheer disbelief in his tone.

“you called.”

a faint huff of amusement left him then, causing you to blink back any emotion that was building in your eyes. it eased you.

“yeah.” he breathed out.

another pause.

you felt so suddenly aware of yourself - your hand reached out to smooth down your hair, adjust your top and skirt, despite knowing he couldn’t see you. it was subconscious, as though the thought of him alone was enough to undo you, but his voice? hearing it after so long, directed at you, for you. yours. it was enough to have you soothed for months.

before you could spiral in your thoughts, he spoke again.

“where are you?”

“out with yejin.”

“mm.” you shivered at his hum. you had no idea he was so undone at the sound of you too. “a bar?”

“yeah.”

“you drinking?”

you rolled your eyes, tongue poking your cheek at his curiosity. some things truly had never changed.

“why?” you asked, and you could almost hear his grin on the other end. “can’t i ask?”

his tone, smooth. familiar. fuck, it did things to you, and you could feel your thighs pressing together just listening to him. secretly, your favourite part of jungkook was how possessive he had always been, and even in moments like this where he hid it under a layer of calmness, you could recognise it instantly.

it reminded you of when he’d ask you whether you had eaten, just before pulling you into his lap, lips attacking the side of your neck hungrily or when he’d tell you to take your medicine, with a slow ‘baby’ and kisses planted to your forehead and cheeks.

“one drink.” you revealed, with a nibble to your lip.

you had no idea that he too was a fucking mess.

jungkook was indeed in his office, with his legs spread, suit jacket and tie somewhere, his shirt unbuttoned a little as he too drank. a cup of whiskey in his hand, his hair a mess as he scoured over your instagram for the millionth time just that day. neither of you were ones to post much, especially considering your accounts were private with only a few people, but he stalked you daily in hopes of a glimpse of you. could you blame him? he was utterly, devotedly in love with you.

a measly divorce couldn’t stop that.

seeing yejin’s story, with your low cut top, and your big eyes showing a sign of life for the first time in months made his heart bloom. it had his cock straining, again, just looking at you, eyes hungrily looking over every inch of you and your soft smile. god, how he had missed it.

he had given you your time. respected your wishes, allowed you eight months of this but enough was enough. the flowers were just the beginning, marking his space back in your life through a promise he had every intention of upholding. he had told you directly he was going to fix this, and you, his sweet, sweet girl had believed him.

he would never let you down again.

“you having fun?”

“why do you wanna know every single detail?” you asked, tone a little harsher than intended but you couldn’t help yourself. this was an ambush on your senses.

he huffed once more, the amusement enough to disarm you.

“because i miss you.”

the words left him so easily that the breath in your lungs completely dissipated, leaving you a statued mess. no hesitation, no shame - pure, devastating honesty.

“you can’t say that, jungkook.” you weakly combatted, the intake of breath on his side of the phone at the sound of his name leaving your mouth enough of an answer for you.

“why not? i can’t miss my wife?” he scoffed lightly at you.

you blubbered for a moment. “i-i am not..i’m not your wife!”

“okay.” he hummed once more.

there was a quiet clink on his end, no doubt picking his drink up and taking a big gulp after abandoning it the second you answered. neither of you spoke for a few more moments, silence now becoming a running theme between you on the call, and yet it was still void of the awkwardness you’d find anywhere else. it was awful how familiar it felt. how comfortable and safe.

your fingers played with the hem of your skirt nervously, unsure if you had been too brash - he was hurting too after all.

“is that top new?”

your breath caught.

“..what?”

jungkook stayed quiet for an extra beat. “your top. haven’t seen that one before.”

heat flooded your cheeks, chest and neck before you could even respond, your lips bitten down as you inhaled shakily.

“how do you know that?” you were ignoring the way your pulse was hammering against your body, trying to feign an air of nonchalance.

at that, he couldn’t help the small grin. “saw you on yejin’s story.” he murmured, quieter now. “look so good. love when you wear pink, baby.”

it wasn’t even the words he had chosen, but more so the way he was saying them. so calm, so certain, so casual as if he wasn’t calling his ex wife baby over a bit of cleavage that was never really meant for his eyes - your blush spreading all over you now.

“jungkook..” you breathed out, shakily.

“what?” he asked innocently, and you could really hear the smile in his voice now. “am i wrong?”

you looked down at your top, nibbling away at your lip to hide the small smile that was beginning to form on your own face, something that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. your fingers brushed against your stomach, feeling the fabric before tucking a strand behind your hair.

“it’s new.” you admitted softly, heels shuffling slightly on the ground.

the sound he made in response was enough to ruin you. not a laugh, not quite a sigh - something pleased.

he hummed. “so pretty.”

your eyes squeezed shut, and jungkook could feel it. could see it as though you were right in front of him. you were never one to handle a compliment, always going pink and shyly looking away and god, he loved it so much. loved complimenting you in hopes that you would react just like that, just to see you get all flustered.

the feeling in your stomach..it felt so strange. the same one that had haunted you for the past eight months, an unbearable warmth that filled you from your toes to your head, something you craved so desperately from him and him alone. to be noticed, looked at, admired by jungkook was one thing but to be loved by him? it was joy in itself.

you could feel it.

no one had ever loved you quite like he had done, as though every single thing you were capable of was worthy of applause. it terrified you.

“you can’t do this.” your voice came out so much smaller than either of you had expected, changing the entire feel of the call instantly.

as a result, his own tone softened, as though he was dealing with something porcelain.

“do what, baby?”

your heart physically ached.

“talk to me..like nothing happened.”

you felt sick to your stomach, hands gripping your phone and stomach as your eyes shut tight. you wished you hadn’t of said anything, not with the way the silence kissed the air in a way that felt anything but familiar - it hurt. painful in every single way.

for the first time since answering the phone, you could see jungkook properly. could hear him breathing sharply as though your words were both a reminder and an understanding that no matter what, things could never go back to what they once were.

the slight twitch in his cheek, the way his fingers would naturally tighten whenever he was overwhelmed with emotion like he didn’t know where to put it, where to place it in his overworking mind. he had always loved so deeply, your jungkook; just didn’t know where to put it, or how to show it.

when he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter. stripped bare for you, so you could feel him.

“i know what i did.” he admitted softly. “i know i fucked up, and that i failed you as a husband.”

your throat tightened.

outside, rainwater still lingered from earlier, a sickly humidity wrapped into every air particle around you. the scent of lingering cigarette smoke was heavy enough to ground you in that moment as you listened to jungkook speak words neither of you could truly handle hearing, despite how necessary they were. it just hurt so, so badly.

inside the bar, you could hear muffled laughter, people egging one another on for drinks as jazz boomed, your heart easing as you could hear yejin’s voice amongst the crowd, no doubt the life of the party there too.

“then why are you acting like this?” you pathetically asked, lip jutting out in a teary pout. he could almost hear it on you. “you’re talking to me like we’re still together.”

“you’re still mine, y/n.”

your breath hitched violently.

“jungkook-“

“no,” he remained calm, a stark difference between you and him. “you asked me a question, baby, so let me answer it properly.”

the nickname rolled off of his lips so naturally, instinctively, and you hated how easily your body curled closer, almost desperate to hear it whilst he stood in front of you. you had always been putty in his hands, so easily undone with a few pretty words but you’d held back for the past few months for the sake of your boundaries. hearing him so open, so honest - it was fucking you up all over again.

“i know we’re divorced,” he continued before you could interrupt him again. “i know..you’re not my wife anymore, and i know this is my fault. you left because of me and i’ll live with that for the rest of my life.”

his voice cracked by the end of his statement.

“but i won’t sit here and pretend like the last eight months have suddenly erased the past fifteen years of loving you.”

the words shattered you. your delicate, pathetic heart broke once more at his words at the confirmation of what you needed to hear so, so badly.

years of abandonment issues stemming from your parents and friends who had only ever toyed with you meant you had put your all into jungkook, who had only ever put every inch of himself back in - you were a partnership, a welcome duo that made sense to the both of you. watching him pull back, forget you, neglect and abandon your relationship no matter the reason was enough to trigger you in ways that no one could reason with.

it was an intimate form of violence that though was never intended, hurt more than anything he could have ever done to you.

he knew that. he was openly telling you he recognised his faults, his wrong doings - you knew that too. god, you knew him better than anyone alive, and you knew that by leaving him it was the only way for him to understand and see.

“you’re making this so much harder, jungkook.” you whispered out through a flood of tears, your mascara and eyeliner smudging immediately under the slaughter of liquid.

“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry baby but i need you to hear me, okay? just..i need you to know i’m going to fix this. properly.” he breathed out, desperate now. “i’ve been doing things right this time..gave you space, let you breathe, been working on myself and going to therapy. don’t sleep at the office anymore, did at the start cause i didn’t like coming home but i’m better now.”

therapy?

you knew he held so much trauma with his own parents, his own upbringing, too scared to ever even speak about it if it wasn’t with you but to hear he had actually taken the steps to go forwards with something that put him directly out of his comfort zone was insanity to you. especially when his one and only concern had only ever been your own comfort, even at his expense.

his honesty made you burst out into quiet sobs - a noise he swore was harsh enough to kill him. he breathed out, cooing at you lightly as he shook his head despite you unable to see him, so pained.

jungkook recognised your pain immediately.

“yeah,” he muttered. “turns out working yourself to death because you’re afraid of losing everything after you’ve had a shitty upbringing actually isn’t normal behaviour. who knew?”

despite your heartbroken state, you let out a sincere watery laugh.

the sound hit him like a drug.

he went completely silent after hearing it, replaying it in the forefront of his mind. a greedy, gluttonous side of him climbing out of his very throat as he held it close to his soul, cherishing it - he was a starved man finally being fed.

“there she is.” he breathed. “fuck..missed hearing your laugh.”

you hated how easily you were able to slip back into him.

“jungkook..”

“i mean it,” his tone deepened slightly - more certain, more intentional. “i’m not calling you tonight to confuse you, y/n. i’m not calling because i’m lonely..”

your fingers tightened around the phone once more. “then, why?”

“because i’m getting you back.”

there was no hesitation in his voice, no wariness nor anything other than sheer determination. he sounded firm and a part of that thrilled you, whilst the other half sat scared of what this meant - you couldn’t survive this again, losing him. what if you had changed? what if you weren’t who he thought you were anymore?

“hey, stop it.” he shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. “it’s just me, y/n. it’s just me and you, okay?”

“but what if we can’t do it?” you asked through a teary sob, scuffing your heels on the hard ground. “what if i’m different and what if it’s too hard? i can’t..i won’t survive it..”

silence once more.

“then, we do it slowly.” he whispered, assured, soothing you. no hesitation whatsoever. “i’m not asking you to trust me overnight, baby. i know i fucked that up already.”

your lip trembled, tears streaming so fast you could hardly keep up.

“but i’m here now.”

the words settled so deeply inside of you that it almost hurt. that was all you had wanted all along, was it not? a present husband, the same man that loved you without the frills of money and presents - you wanted jungkook. your jungkook.

you swallowed thickly, knowing it had taken so much of him to even say this to you, so confident as he knew you needed a rock at this moment despite also being emotionally devastated.

two whole minutes of silence stretched between you as you caught your breath, your tears still streaming but your sobs subsiding, allowing for sweet hiccups that he thought were the cutest thing he had ever heard. his mind swam, aching, knowing how needy you were after a cry. he wanted to bundle you up and hold you, kiss you until there were no more thoughts left in that pretty little head of yours, right until you were finally asleep and safe in his arms.

“are you still at work?” you asked softly, breaking the silence and pulling him out of his thoughts.

a small pause.

then, almost amused - “technically..”

“jungkook! it’s late..”

he laughed quietly under his breath, the sound warm enough to blanket you in it.

“finished hours ago, i’ve just been sat here.”

“doing what?”

another pause. slightly charged.

“looking at you.” he murmured.

heat rushed to your face immediately, wiping your under eyes. “what?”

“been stalking your instagram. yejin posted you like half an hour ago too, so..” his voice dropped lower, smoother. more intimate. “haven’t really thought about doing anything since.”

your thighs pushed together involuntarily at the confession, cheeks hinted even darker.

god.

“jungkook.” you chastised with a little sniffle.

“pink was a bad choice, baby.” he grunted slightly. “you know that colour drives me fucking insane on you.”

your eyes squeezed shut. there he was.

not the cold, mysterious ceo that had the world intrigued, nor the tall, hefty man that had most people cowering away as he walked past. no, this was your husband - flirty, affectionate and completely and utterly obsessed with you.

“you’re so ridiculous.” you shook your head through a hiccup, biting back the pathetic small smile that was about to form.

“yeah?” he hummed through a small laugh. “still answered the phone.”

the smile in his voice only had yours growing larger, a small laugh muffled by the back of your hand.

you could hear him moving around now, keys jingling lightly before the sound of a car door opening had your ears peaking up.

“wait,” your eyebrows raised. “are you leaving?”

“mhm.”

“where are you going?”

jungkook grinned. it was your turn to be curious.

“home.”

your smile dropped slightly. home.. that used to be a word that was synonymous with you. your chest ached all over again.

“couldn’t go back there without hearing your voice first.” he admitted quietly.

silence swallowed you whole. the vulnerability in his voice felt far more dangerous than any of the tears you had shed tonight, your fingers continuing to shake around the phone at the mere sound of it. before you could think of a response, he spoke again.

“there’s a gala next friday.”

your stomach tightened as you leaned your head against the wall, already understanding the direction of the conversation.

“jungkook..”

“come with me.”

no hesitation. no uncertainty.

firm, assured, confident. like there had never even been another concept, or thought in his brain - you were the first and only option.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea..”

“probably not.”

the honesty startled a laugh out of you - a real one. on the other side of the phone, jungkook sat in his car, eyes closed, breathing deeply at the sweet sound like he was memorising it. treasuring it so he could replay it over and over and over later when he laid in your once shared bed alone.

“fuck,” he breathed. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed that.”

your eyes burned once more.

“baby,” his tone gentled again, using the pet name you loved so much. “just one night. me and you.”

you wanted to scream, wanted to pull at your hair and jump all at the same time. of course you wanted to say yes, what more could you need? your ex husband so openly telling you he wanted to pursue you with every inch of his body, until he was nothing but yours to mould and shape.

“i’ll think about it.” you replied instead, nibbling away at your lip.

the grin in his voice was immediate.

“that’s my girl.”

—

you couldn’t breathe.

both physically and emotionally, you found difficulty in inhaling air as you looked at yourself in the mirror, yejin somewhere in the room finding accessories for you to wear all whilst you blinked rapidly.

the dress, although beautiful, felt too tight.

your hands shook on either side of you as she approached you, holding up a delicate diamond necklace you recognised as an anniversary gift jungkook had gotten you but never quite found the chance to wear. your eyes were unfocused as she clasped it onto your neck, watching the way it fell so softly against soft skin, as though it had been curated for you and you alone.

“you need to breathe, y/n.” she suddenly murmured behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both stared at you in the mirror.

pale pink satin - not bright in anyway, but a sweet kiss of your favourite colour adorned your body in floor length, tight fitting dress. you were the embodiment of elegance as the fabric draped over your curves, all whilst cinching perfectly at your waist, allowing for a pretty silhouette. not only did you look the part for a charity gala, you had exceeded any expectation anyone would ever have for you thanks to your best friend’s styling.

“dress is tight.” you simply whispered back, hardly recognising yourself.

your makeup matched your dress. glowy and pink with soft blush dusted onto your cheeks, glossy lips puckered and sweet. your hair fell in waves and for the first time in a very long time, you felt utterly beautiful.

the problem, however, was in the circumstance itself.

you were about to see jungkook for the first time since you had officially walked away from your marriage and the thought had kept you up all week. you weren’t sure what you were thinking actually saying yes to his invitation, calling him to tell you would come only for him to audibly huff out of joy. he was like a child in a candy shop but you couldn’t help but wonder if he harboured the same anxiety.

it was heavy in your stomach as you stared at yourself. pink was your favourite colour, and he loved it on you. did you look pretty enough? all eyes would be on you both tonight, given the nature of your relationship and the almost celebrity like status that had been awarded to the two of you.

all in all, it was his face that had you nibbling your bottom lip in thought. there wasn’t a night where you left his name unsearched in your internet browser, desperate to see what he looked like in that current moment but seeing him in purpose was a whole different playing field.

you loved him in suits - a fitting joy that was awarded to you constantly given his occupation. the way his shoulders would fill out the material so nicely, the way his shirt would stretch over his chest and the way darker colours only brought out the darkness in his eyes - it was your personal kryptonite. you weren’t sure how you were supposed to think, behave even, once you caught got sight of him.

“hey, y/n, look at me.” yejin pulled you out of your thoughts, soft hands pulling at your jaw. “it’s just jungkook. you know him better than anyone, okay? you’re all good.”

you nodded, though you continued to blink at her rapidly. “s’just been so long and..i don’t know..i’m scared. is that weird?”

she offered a sad smile. “it’s been eight months of healing, babe. that love doesn’t just go away and from what you told me, this is a step in the right direction. just gotta let him in.”

before you could respond, the sound of the doorbell blared through the apartment, making you look up to where the door sat on the other side. if you thought your heart had been beating fast before, you were sure you were on the edge of passing out now as yejin mumbled a quick ‘that’ll be him’ beside you.

oh god. oh god. oh god.

the dress felt too tight around your ribs.

your hands smoothed down the satin again despite having done it what felt like a million times already, fingers tips trembling over expensive fabric as your breathing came out shallow. you hated this - hated the fear of it all when it was jungkook on the other side of the door. your jungkook.

eight months. eight whole months and your body still knew him better than your mind was ready to let on.

“y/n.” yejin practically cooed at you, assuring you with a hand on your back. “breathe.”

you nodded quickly, though it went in one ear and out the other.

the intercom buzzed again, impatient time.

ironically, it was this that had your shoulders slumping softly, your shortness of breath slowly soothing as you realised the familiarity of the situation. of course jungkook would buzz twice - it was a telltale sign of his own anxiety, something you could recognise from a mile away. knocking twice, calling your name twice, checking the front door before bed twice.

it was just jungkook.

“okay.” you whispered to yourself.

you turned, more determined now you knew he was in the same state as you, as your heels clicked on the floor of your much smaller apartment, the noise loud enough for him to hear from the outside. each step felt heavier the closer you got, but there sat an anticipation in you that had you almost desperate to see him.

your hand finally wrapped around the handle before you opened the door.

and there he was.

god.

for a moment, your brain completely malfunctioned.

jungkook stood in your hallway beneath the almost dingy apartment lighting, one hand wrapped around a large bouquet of flowers you recognised to be the ones he had been gifting you with continuously for the past few weeks, and every anniversary. white gardenias.

your eyes fell onto them immediately with a strangled gasp, all whilst taking him in, your heart beating out of your chest as you felt almost faint at the sight of him.

a black suit.

the material stretched perfectly across his too broad shoulders and narrow waist, expensive to the eye as you could tell it had been tailored to fit him exactly. the contrast between the white shirt underneath was utterly delicious, and memories of pulling open buttons under heated exchanges flooded your eyes.

his hair was styled almost messily which you immediately recognised as his hands having ran through them, no doubt due to his anxiety - you wanted to pull at his locks, wanted to feel them against your fingers.

it was his face, however, that hurt to look at.

he looked healthier than most of the pictures you had seen over the span of the past few months, with warm in his cheeks, a slight dazed look in his eyes. still tired, with purple underneath his eyes indicating his lack of sleep, still carrying traces of heartbreak you knew you had placed there.

god.

jungkook looked every bit of the man you were in love with.

and here he stood, staring at you like he had just seen heaven open up right in front of him.

neither of you could look away from one another, as his eyes dragged over you slowly, inch by inch. your hair, your neckline that dipped lower than he was used to seeing, your manicure, your beautiful face. jungkook couldn’t fathom that you had once belonged to him, the pain of the past eight months surfacing as it gripped him by the throat like a vice - he had lost you?

you watched his throat bob.

his eyes met yours, the first time in what felt like a lifetime, and neither of you really knew what to do. how was it that the man you had known most of your life, the one constant, felt like a stranger in that moment? it was like you were discovering him again, an opportunity to relearn him presented to you and you took it with both hands.

he let out a shaking breath, one that had your cheeks flushing as he extended his arm, presenting the large bouquet for you.

“you look beautiful.” he whispered, voice struggling almost as you continued to watch his adam’s apple almost entranced.

with a shy thank you, you held them close to your chest, breathing in the familiar scent that brought you so much comfort.

your chest had eased now you were finally looking at him, now that he was actually in your space - the worst was over. you almost felt ridiculous for being worried about seeing him when it was just jungkook. eight months couldn’t erase that familiarity.

the hallway suddenly felt too small. too warm, too intimate; you felt like you were being caved in by his mere presence and for a moment you wondered if you needed breath at all.

you simply stood there, clutching the flowers delicately to your chest as though they meant something so much more than what anyone else could assume all whilst jungkook looked at you like you were the first beautiful thing he had seen in months.

his eyes couldn’t leave your face.

it should have made you uncomfortable, the intensity of his stare, but your body reacted the way it had always done when you were near him. you were inching closer without even realising it, him doing the same until you were looking up, head angled and his downwards, head bent to admire you properly.

“hi.” you whispered again.

the size difference between you had never been more apparent until then, what with all of his strenuous visits to the gym these past few months. he had always towered over you, but it was different now - his already wide chest and broad shoulders engulfed you, his biceps on either side of him enough to have you wanting him in a way that certainly was not becoming of an ex wife.

it’s like he could read your thoughts, with the way he inched closer to you, until your bodies were openly brushing against each other faintly. material on material, fabric kissing fabric. you wished you could feel him on your skin.

the sound of your voice had lulled him gently as he dipped his head down lower so you could properly see him, despite your head back to look at him.

“hi, baby.”

your stomach flipped violently.

there it was again. baby. fuck.

as though the divorce papers were fickle, representing a momentary lapse of judgement instead of a ruling decision. like he still woke up beside you every morning and ruined your cheeks with kisses before falling in between your thighs.

the dazed look on your face didn’t go unnoticed.

before you could even respond, yejin appeared behind you with the biggest smile she could possibly muster.

“oh my god,” she squeaked dramatically. “you both look insane!”

jungkook blinked, momentarily pulled from the emotional spiral you were both taking part in as he straightened slightly, despite still being awfully close to you. your cheeks heated at the sound of her voice, jumping a little in shock, causing you to brush against him faintly.

“hi, yejin.”

“don’t hi yejin me.” she narrowed her eyes dangerously. “if she cries tonight, i’ll kill you.”

“yejin!” you flushed red.

jungkook, however, allowed for a soft smile, nodding once. “fair.”

the sheer sincerity of it made the room go quiet, your eyes meeting his once more. you knew though it was a passing comment, he truly meant it - he’d let her kill him if it meant you’d hurt less.

your chest tightened all over again.

yejin seemed to realise it too, her teasing expression softening at the both of you. idiots in love, both too cautious to know what the correct next step was - thank god she loved to meddle.

“okay! you’re both gonna be late so hurry up.” she hummed, turning you and looking over you for any last minute touch ups. “i’ll take these. i’ll show myself out.”

with a cheeky wink, she all but pushed you backwards towards jungkook where your back gently brushed against his front. she had taken the flowers, shoved your clutch in your hand and shut the door in your face, all after giving you a big grin.

he didn’t move from behind you, despite you turning to properly face him. the two of you stared at one another openly, eyebrows pulling together - you could see it happening in real time, the way his body curled at the mere feel of you. to be so close to you, touching you; it was out of a far away dream.

you felt it too - god, you could feel it in your veins. the horrifying wave of unashamed want that filtered through you so naturally, your body knew him. your body recognised your husband.

your man.

his restraint was palpable. you could see it in the way his fingers flexed on either side of him, almost twitching as muscle memory surfaced from deep inside of him. for years touching you had been second nature, with a hand on your waist, fingers lifting your chin, arms around your figure to hold you up for a kiss.

now he looked almost tortured as he realised he no longer knew what he was allowed to do.

the realisation alone softened you.

“we should go.” you whispered up at him gently, though your voice lacked any real conviction.

jungkook stared at you, offering a small nod almost obediently despite the stark hunger in his eyes.

“yeah.” he cleared his throat. “yeah, okay.”

he stepped back and first; the distance was felt immediately.

you suddenly missed the warmth that radiated off of him, fingers faintly tugging on his suit jacket so gently you weren’t even aware you were doing it. what the fuck was wrong with you? one touch and you were already spiralling into him again like the last eight months had never happened.

jungkook noticed. of course he did.

his chest visibly expanded from beneath the expensive material, eyes darkening so suddenly you felt heat up and down your spine. the way he looked at you had emotion swirling in your stomach, so hungry. so devoted.

you slowly released him, blinking rapidly as though you’d only just realised what you’d done.

“sorry.” you whispered instinctively.

jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed together in offence.

“don’t apologise for touching me.” his voice came out firmer than expected, low. far too intimate given the apartment hallway you were in.

the silence that followed felt thick enough to choke on, neither of you making an effort to move despite knowing you were bordering on being late. the tension was so unbearable now that you were both alone, freely staring at one another after so much time apart - no yejin to soften the edges. just fifteen years worth of tension, want and need all accumulated between you.

his eyes flickered downwards as he watched you sway slightly.

“your heels are insane.” he muttered softly.

you blinked. “hm?”

“you’re already wobbling.”

offended, your mouth gaped. “i am not wobbling!”

jungkook let out a small huff of amusement, loving how easy it was to rile you up. the sound completely disarmed you, seeing a glimpse of the same jungkook you had been with all of your life.

“you almost fell walking out of the door.” he teased, with a tilt to his head downwards at you.

“i did not!” you shook your head with a small swat to his chest. he only let out another laugh. “you literally grabbed onto me.”

“that..doesn’t count, okay?”

“mm.” amusement stretched over his face, as he led you to the staircase, cautious to be slow as he watched you continue to slightly wobble due to the uneven surface of the hallway. “sure.”

before you could even think of a rebuttal, you watched jungkook look down the multiple staircases with a slight frown before turning to you. he suddenly bent at the knees, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion for no longer than two seconds before one arm slid below your knees and the other around your back.

your gasp echoed.

“jungkook!”

he lifted you bridal style effortlessly, as though you weighed truly nothing to him.

your hands immediately flung to the back of his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders in shock as your body felt more of him than it had done in what felt like eons. jungkook’s hands were so much bigger than yours, and you could feel him everywhere all at once, enough to have you dizzy with a sense of want.

“what are you doing?!” you whispered harshly, eyes blown wide as he sorted you on one single arm, checking his phone for the time with the other. it was beyond easy.

jungkook merely looked down at you calmly, entirely unbothered despite the way you could feel his pulse hammering below your fingertips.

“preventative measures. can’t have you slipping down the stairs.”

you stared at him in disbelief. “you can’t just pick me up!”

he scoffed a little, as though your words were going in one ear and out the other. your comfort came first, that much was ingrained in him and even you couldn’t stop him when it came to that.

he walked down the stairs as though it was the most natural thing in the world, one hand spread wide against your back, claiming whilst the other was hooked under your thighs, making sure you were as comfortable as possible against him. your dress was draped so beautifully over his arm that anyone who would have caught you in that moment would have remarked, ironically, how bridal you looked.

you couldn’t believe how safe he felt.

jungkook noticed the second you relaxed into him. properly.

“missed carrying you.” he admitted quietly as he descended another step.

your entire body burned. “jungkook.” you breathed weakly, though there was no real warning behind your tone.

“what?” he hummed innocently. “s’true.”

you remembered almost fondly - it was the one thing you probably missed more than anything else. he would carry you everywhere - from the bed to your bath, to the couch after you’d woken up, through grocery stores just to hear you squeak in embarrassment. one time he had held you for an hour straight, walking you home after a date just because your feet hurt.

and now, here you were again, tucked into his chest as though it was home. you supposed it was.

your heart ached so violently at the memory that looking up at him through your lashes had your brain whizzing too fast for you to keep up with.

“you’ve gotten so much bigger.” you whispered almost shyly before you could stop yourself, already tucked into him too comfortably.

big mistake.

his heart truly nearly fucking stopped. his head snapped down at you almost instantly, eyes darkening so visibly it had you avoiding any contact, instead focusing your gaze on his clothed pecs.

“yeah?” he asked slowly.

your cheeks were flushed dark, realising how that may have sounded.

“just..got broader.” you clarified through another whisper, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in his neck out of embarrassment.

“been working out a lot more.” he murmured down at you, ducking his head a little so that he could meet your eyes, a small smile forming.

you nibbled your lip with a little nod, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair.

jungkook knew you loved the size difference between you, but it truly didn’t compare to how fucked it made his mind go. it was the first thing he had noticed when you opened the door again - how despite your heels, you were still so much shorter. it drove him insane, especially now that he was bigger. feeling you curled into his chest like this, all safe and protected, it made him feel wanted. to have you notice it, address it even so shyly; fuck. it ruined him.

by the time he had reached the bottom floor, your cheeks were still heated, dreading the fact he would have to let you go when all you wanted was to curl into him even deeper. to think ten minutes ago you had so much anxiety when now, he was actively conversing with you all whilst carrying you, it felt euphoric.

the driver stood outside of the car, the same man who drove you both to events when you were still together. your eyes widened a little as you watched him open the back door for you both, all whilst you were still leisurely held in his arms.

your embarrassment returned instantly.

“put me down!” you hissed quietly.

jungkook looked at you, unaffected. “why?”

“because your driver is literally staring at us, jungkook!”

the poor man looked away with a growing smile. he had missed seeing his boss so carefree, knowing that he was only like this when the situation pertained to you.

he smirked faintly. “he’s driven us around for years, baby. pretty sure he’s seen us do a lot worse.”

your mouth fell open, swatting his chest. “jungkook!”

that finally earned you a proper smile, brief but enough to knock the very air out of your lungs, your too large eyes drinking it in almost desperately. he was so handsome it hurt, and it wasn’t until now you realised how much you had missed his smile.

carefully, he gently lowered you to the ground, making sure you were comfortable on your feet.

his hands lingered. neither of you moved.

your faces were suddenly so close once more as your hands had slid down from his neck, but remained in contact, fingers digging into his chest faintly to feel him. the city noise faded around you and into the background as he looked down at you with an emotion that could only be classed as longing.

“you good?” he asked softly.

you nodded too quickly. “mhm.”

liar.

his eyes dropped to your lips once more, eyeing the gloss almost hungrily - would it taste like the strawberry you always applied? sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he’d remember the flavour.

then, like he had to physically pull himself back, he stepped closer to the car and gestured to it slowly.

“after you.”

you slid into the backseat first, smoothening your dress as it rode up your body, all whilst your pulse hammered harshly.

the interior of the car was sleek, donned in a luxurious black leather whilst it remained dimly lit in the back, with enough enough space to stretch out your legs. the scent of jungkook’s cologne was addicting, and you immediately recognised it to be the one you had bought him on your last anniversary together, your heart fluttering at the thought.

once he climbed in beside you, you realised how intimate the space actually was.

jungkook sat close enough for his thigh to brush against yours, broad shoulders taking up far too much room whilst the driver shut the door quietly behind him.

neither of you acknowledged the contact. it somehow made it worse.

it wasn’t until the divider between the front and the back began slowly sliding upwards, offering a layer of privacy that your breath caught audibly.

jungkook noticed - of course he fucking noticed. he couldn’t stop staring at you, especially now that he had you trapped here, pushed against him like you belonged with a drive ahead of you. god, the things he wanted to do to you in this dress were sinful at best, but he had to practise restraint, no matter how much it took out of him.

he leaned back, one arm sliding over to the top of your seat, where although he wasn’t touching you, you slyly leaned in just to have more of his warmth. it felt so familiar, so nauseatingly natural that anything other would have felt wrong.

he watched as your thighs pressed together.

fuck.

“you nervous?” he asked in his low voice, jaw ticking.

your eyes slowly shifted, finally meeting his gaze. through a shaky laugh, one without humour, you nodded. “obviously.”

he softened at that, sharpness melting away to reveal the tenderness below.

“it’s just me, y/n.”

you felt so hyperaware of everything. the rain that tapped softly against the tinted windows, and the gentle purr of the car engine beneath you. the feel of jungkook’s thigh soothed you, whilst his heavy gaze unnerved you - a cocktail mix that felt so entirely him.

you could feel his eyes on you before you even looked up. once you did, your breath caught at the intensity of his stare - not polite. certainly not subtle. his gaze moved over you, up and down, like he couldn’t help himself, like he he’d been trying to hold back the second you opened up the door to your apartment.

“fuck.” he muttered under his breath.

your cheeks flushed pink, whispering his name.

you watched his eyes flush down your body, eyes stuck on your cleavage and the way the material clung to your hips. “look at you.”

you instinctively looked down, shy at the attention but you couldn’t help but crave it. you knew exactly how obsessive jungkook was when it came to you, knew how deeply infatuated he was with every inch of you but seeing it so closely after so long almost felt soothing. it was a reminder that though everything had changed, somethings stayed the same.

his hand moved before you could think too hard about it, cupping under your chin and tilting your face upwards.

“don’t hide from me.”

your stomach tightened, eyelids hooded.

this thumb brushed against your jaw once, so soft, so unbelieving that you were in his arms despite the fact you technically weren’t his anymore. not that he believed that.

“i can’t stop looking at you.” he admitted, tone rougher now. “been trying since you opened the door, but it’s impossible.”

your thighs pressed together immediately, his gaze dropping to the small action. the reaction was subtle, but there - he noticed everything when it came to you.

you suddenly felt so warm.

“you’re staring so hard.” you murmured nervously, fingers twisting together in your lap.

“because you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

the words came out so plainly your eyes widened.

jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, head tipping backwards against his seat all whilst you watched with heavy breath. the far gone part of your mind wanted to track his neck, trace his adam’s apple with your fingers all so he could continue looking at you the way he had been.

he looked devastating like this - broad thighs spread in the backseat with your body pressed against him, his arm slung heavy on the head of your seat. the both of you were a mess for one another, sick in the head with infatuation.

you weren’t stupid. you knew your effect on him, perhaps not to the full extent, but enough to know that nearly a year’s distance between you was enough to drive a man like him insane. his hand dragged over his face with a quiet groan before adjusting himself slightly over his suit trousers.

your eyes flickered downwards before you could stop yourself.

jungkook smiled at the sound of your quiet giggle as you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, looking up to meet his gaze after noticing he was half hard. all you had done was exist.

“yeah,” he murmured, the sound of your laugh blooming in his chest. “that’s your fault.”

you slapped his thigh gently, although you couldn’t hold back on the continuous giggles that were now leaving you as you felt lighter than you had in what felt like years. he too matched you, the intensity lightening up massively as he let out a quiet laugh despite himself.

“what’d you expect, hm?” he asked, voice soft. “i haven’t seen you in eight months, and now you’re sat next to me looking like this. wearing pink.”

his hand slowly slid over, brushing against your own, fingertips grazing your skin before he intertwined them, gently.

you let him.

the second you curled your hand into his yourself, his expression changed. up until now, it was him losing control, reigning himself in, biting himself down to make sure you were as comfortable as possible but fuck. you were the one touching him now, making sure he could see you intertwine your hands properly, squeezing his hand.

it felt like a confirmation that this was the beginning of a new chapter.

he wanted to scream, to yell on the top of his lungs at the thought of you openly showing him your willingness. his sweet, angel girl; he loved you more than words could describe and he wanted to spend the rest of his life showing you.

“missed this,” he admitted quietly, eyes on your much smaller hand holding his so intimately. “missed you touching me.”

your eyes burned suddenly.

jungkook noticed immediately with a frown, expression softening at the edges.

“hey, baby.” his thumb brushed yours. “don’t cry.”

“m’not crying.” you whispered, though your voice wobbled embarrassingly.

he held you close to him as you both remained quiet for the rest of the journey, though the silence felt welcomed after such a rush and mix of emotions. you had gone from anxiety, to confusion, to excitement, to warmth, to a painful reminder of what once was - it was enough to drive you insane. being around him hurt, but being near him was healing.

rain continued to pitter patter outside as your hands remained intertwined, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he sat there trying to fathom how this was real. you were letting him in, and he could see it, could see how much it was taking out of you and he’d be damned if he fucked it up again. to get a second chance was insanity alone, but to have it with you?

the car began slowing down.

through the tinted windows, you could see a flash of white, people trying to get a glimpse of the elusive ceo they were so obsessed with. you gulped as you watched other powerful business people walk in with their dates, models and celebrities lining up to have their picture taken.

you leaned into him almost immediately.

jungkook held onto you tightly, arm sliding over your waist and gently squeezing. “i’m here. stay by me.”

you nodded quickly, dazed. “okay.”

his eyes lingered on your face for a second too long before he muttered under his breath, almost like he couldn’t help himself. “you look so fucking pretty.”

your heart nearly stopped, meeting his gaze as your shoulders slumped, feeling calm through his sweet words.

the car door opened.

chaos.

jungkook stepped out first and the reaction was everything you had expected and somehow so much more. your eyes blinked as you watched the cameras explode violently, reporters shouting his name from all directions as they desperately tried to get a clear shot of him, knowing he could easily make front page news without having to try.

your heart stopped for a moment.

his back faced everyone else as he turned to you, taking a hold of your hands once more and gently helping you out of the car, smoothening your dress.

the second they saw you? everything multiplied by ten.

genuine screaming was heard from somewhere behind the barricades as you slowly stepped out, your own hand finding jungkook’s for a sense of comfort which he readily gave you, pulling you in a little closer than necessary. the noise was erupting, your vision blinded momentarily by the insane flashes, reports actually tripping over one another to take pictures of you in particular.

this wasn’t normal.

jeon jungkook never brought women anywhere. never entertained rumours, never dated publicly, never stood beside any other woman that hadn’t been you. even then, you had been painfully private, making sure to attend closed events with rare appearances, often opting to support in the shadows as opposed to centre stage as he was forced to.

but now? this was the loudest statement you could have possibly made and it slowly dawned on you both the nature of the decision.

you were telling the world you were ready to start again.

his entire demeanour had changed out here.

you were overwhelmed to say the least, but it was his arms around you that kept you grounded as you clung to him, your smaller frame tucked so delicately within his own that some found themselves putting their cameras down just so they could observe you both.

you were the epitome of love and neither of you even knew it.

ceo jungkook - all cold eyes, sharp jaw, that terrifying calmness. yet every few seconds he ducked his head down, whispering something in your ear that would have you smiling almost shyly back up at him, easing your mind away from the hundreds of people who wanted nothing more than to get a picture of you.

“jungkook over here!”

“is that your ex-wife?”

“are you two back together?!”

“y/n!”

you flinched slightly as the voices got louder the closer you walked down the carpet towards the venue, but it seemed jungkook’s presence only felt bigger.

“don’t look at them.” he whispered down into your ear, words tucked for you and you alone. “look at me.”

stupidly enough, you obeyed almost instantly. his eyes softened at the way you listened so sweetly.

“good girl.” he muttered absentmindedly before guiding you to the entrance and away from the prying eyes outside.

the words hit you far harder than they should have. good girl.

oh you were so fucked.

—

the venue was utterly breathtaking.

golden lighting spilled across towering ceilings whilst soft music played from a live orchestra at one side of the ballroom, so elegant you’re indeed whether you were even appropriately dressed. people stared at you openly, all whilst you and your flushed cheeks looked away, purposefully keeping your gaze vague and avoiding eye contact with most. glasses clinked together as powerful figures mingled amongst themselves, professional cameras still set up inside.

and yet, none of it compared to the way people reacted to jungkook.

conversations paused when he walked by, people straightening up. executives who had once terrified you now looked nervous approaching him and it reminded you exactly who he was outside of your relationship.

jeon jungkook was a terrifyingly cold, business man. he was untouchable and unfeeling, everything that made a powerful man powerful and then there was you. his one weakness.

his hand remained firm against the small of your back possessively, claiming you as his own in front of anyone who could see. you loved when he was like this, all brooding and dark as though anyone even had a chance to steal him from you - silly man. even now, with months of distance between you and a divorce, you were all his.

“breathe, baby.” he reminded with a quiet hum in your ear.

“i am breathing.” your cheeks warmed.

“barely.”

you shot him a look, though it was void of any real annoyance as he guided you further into the room. you couldn’t help but admire him openly, all whilst he scanned the room, not realising how deep you were falling into your own thoughts. he really had gotten so much bigger, with his chest so wide you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like under your hands. his shoulders too.

you had spent the entire drive trying not to stare at him. you had failed. miserably.

“drink?”

he pulled you out of your thoughts with a little gasp, realising you had been openly checking him out much to his pleasure. you found yourself nodding, nibbling away at your lip. “yes please.”

the words came out too fast, awarding you with a small laugh as he turned towards the bar.

your eyes followed him automatically.

that was another problem entirely. you see, no matter where jungkook stood, attention naturally followed. men greeted him immediately, keen to get into his good books whilst women openly stared, hoping to garner his fancy and yet he was completely and entirely uninterested. his gaze flickered back to you every few moments, as though he still couldn’t believe you were right there, just for him. just because he had asked you to come.

your chest squeezed painfully at the thought.

he returned only a few moments later with two champagne glasses, handing you yours to which you took with a nervous smile.

“thank you.”

your fingers brushed his purposefully. small, barely noticeable.

oh, but how jungkook had noticed. he noticed everything when it came to you and judging from the way his throat bobbed, taking a large sip of his drink, you knew that your poor ex husband was certainly not able to handle your charm.

the champagne helped much quicker than you were expecting it to.

after the first glass, the tension in your shoulders completely eased but it was the second that had you transforming. your overthinking thoughts ceased to exist, as the warmth in your blood brought out a shade of pink in your face that jungkook couldn’t look away from. standing close to him suddenly felt less terrifying and so much more thrilling.

a dangerous combination - especially when jungkook was looking at you with so much hunger.

a buzz had settled deep into your bloodstream, your brain slightly away with the fairies as you continued to sip, looking up at him. your other hand darted out, fingers trailing over his stomach openly, over to where the buttons of his suit sat. what was an absentminded action to you, tipsy, was enough to have jungkook almost shaking.

you were braver when you had alcohol in you, that much had been true your entire relationship, but even this felt quite insane. he watched as your fingers trailed up and down, sliding up to where his chest was only to drop lower and lower. it wasn’t until your fingertips were brushing the top of his suit trousers that he grabbed your hand.

you pouted at him, head tilted. “why?”

your whine had his shoulders rolling.

“because,” he said slowly, voice rough beneath the sound of the orchestra. “you’re getting handsy.”

your lips patted in faux innocence. “am not.”

jungkook stared at you half in disbelief and other half amusement, still holding your hand that he now pressed to his chest firmly. your fingers had nearly slipped below his waistband, a thought that had him nearly taking you home then and there but he knew it was because the alcohol was making you brave - his tipsy girl. his palm engulfed yours, feeling your fingers wriggle underneath to continue your plans with a slight whine but he was both firm and possessive, not letting you go.

you pressed your thighs together again.

this was the champagne.

he knew it, knew it to be a dangerous mix - the alcohol and your naturally clingy personality once you got comfortable, all combined with the eight months apart meant you were now simply doing whatever your heart wanted with little care to your mind.

your cheeks warmed as you watched him stare down at you, gaze heavier than anything all evening. it seemed the longer you were both in each other’s presence, despite how long you’d spent apart, the more bold you were getting - but could you be blamed? he might have been your ex husband but he still belonged to you, and you knew you were still entirely his, a fucked up fact that meant you were both drawn to each other in ways that meant you could never move on.

multiple months of healing all gone to shit in a single night, with a few drinks. who were you both kidding - moving on wasn’t an option. even you could see that now.

your fingers flexed under his hold, people secretly watching you both interact with bated breath. they couldn’t believe this was the same jungkook they were afraid of, made to mush at the hands of the pretty woman in front of him. he was but a man afterall.

rather than pulling away, your fingers simply curled around the fabric of his suit jacket, fingers touching his shirt purposefully to elicit another reaction out of him. he had reduced you to putty in the drive over and perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, but you wanted him to feel the same.

jungkook was quiet. too quiet.

jaw slightly slack as he took you in, you touching him like his body belonged to you and you alone. he relished in the fact you knew it just as well as he did.

he had missed this so much. just the feel of you, no matter how innocent you pretended to be, skin on skin. it felt like a promise.

and now, you were standing here, head tilted to stare up at him properly whilst looking through pretty lashes that batted at him subconsciously.

it was driving him insane.

“you’re staring again.” you hummed at him. his eyebrows narrowed. “because you keep touching me.”

you tried to bite down the smile that began to form on your lips as your fingers continued to flex, soon finding his heartbeat to confirm your suspicious. oh, he was a mess underneath your hand.

“you don’t seem to mind.”

his jaw flexed. you heard him curse under his breath, calling you a fucking minx which only had you giggling just as quietly. it was a powerful thing to have a man as influential as jungkook so weak in the knees for you, and you couldn’t deny the affect it was having on your mind. he snaked a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him in a way that was absolutely not becoming of the environment you were in.

“keep this shit up and i’ll take you home.” he promised quietly, leaning down to whisper into your ear.

unfortunately for him, you had no intention of stopping. especially when you had just begun.

“promise?” you whispered back, eyes wide with a faux innocence you knew he wanted to ruin.

his jaw clenched again, blood half boiling at how cheeky you were being and cock hardening by how badly he wanted to ruin you. had this been any other circumstance, you’d already be in the bathroom with your dress to your chest, being pounded into by the only man who knew exactly how to ruin you until you were well bred.

but alas - this night was about proving himself to you, and no matter how hard you made him, he knew he had to do this right.

and so, instead, he pinched you at your waist slightly, pulling an airless squeak out of you before he brushed his lips against your ear.

“behave.”

the word should have been warning enough, but instead, warmth fluttered through you, rushing through your stomach so violently you pressed against him further. jungkook nearly hissed, watching how reactive you were for him, with your hooded eyes and slack jaw.

fuck.

his hands were all over you, with little care to who was watching and you knew tomorrow you’d be mortified when you remembered how brazen you had both been, but it was hard not to feel addicted when you were both feeling the same way. you giggled lightly, hiding your face in his chest momentarily before meeting his gaze.

“you’re very confident for someone i divorced.” you playfully hummed.

at that, he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. “didn’t stop you from getting your pretty hands all over me.”

the alcohol was well into your system as you found yourself giggling once more, fully hiding yourself in his chest to which he wrapped his arms around you properly, the two of you whispering and laughing together as though it was the most natural thing in the world. jungkook’s colleagues, rivals and admirers all watched you both in genuine curiosity at the way you were so well suited. two people, quietly infatuated with one another - it was toothache inducing.

the conversation between you both remained playful, with his thumb tracing your bottom lip at one point muttering something about how badly he wanted to know how your lip gloss tasted. an hour in and you were both practically trying to one up each other with how far you could take it, leaving you both laughing whilst trying to stay quiet.

this is what you had missed. joy. comfort. being around him in a way that didn’t feel like you were fighting to prove something. it had been so long since you’d felt this carefree that you realised pretty quickly that you couldn’t let him ago again. it was a horrible thought at first, realising that the past few months may have been for naught but perhaps absence did make the heart fonder.

soon enough, you had been there close enough two hours and jungkook had done the rounds once you settled in, less tipsy but still buzzed. you met his new business partners, clients you hadn’t seen in a while, a mixture of familiar faces and people you had only ever heard about. neither of you commented on the fact he introduced you intimately, with a heavy arm around your waist.

it genuinely felt like no time had past with the way you both felt so comfortable, the dynamics between you natural considering he had been the one constant in your life for the past fifteen years. you sipped on your glass of water as you listened to his conversation half mindedly, watching him discuss a new company contract with one of his shareholders.

it wasn’t until you heard a voice echo throughout the ballroom announcing the beginning of the charity auction that the conversation came to an end. jungkook immediately took a hold of your hand, planting a cheeky kiss to your knuckles with a slight smirk, before leading you towards the front of the room where the different things on auction sat to be admired over.

“c’mon.”

you followed him easily, hands intertwined whilst you walked side by side, champagne now a dull buzz in your body. people moved around you respectfully, all whilst their eyes lingered on you much longer than needed. could you blame them? you were the infamous woman that had managed to lock down the one man that seemed disinterested in everything, so much so that you had him laughing and flushing pink every time you so much as looked at him. the divorced couple that looked anything but divorced.

oh, they were staring indeed, with hushed whispers and even quieter questions.

your attention drifted lazily over the displayed pieces, politely but nothing quite caught your interest, your eyebrows pulling up at some of the art pieces named. it wasn’t until you reached the very end that you found yourself stopped in your tracks.

jungkook noticed, he too coming to a stop to glance over at you only for his gaze to follow yours. he immediately understood.

beneath warm lighting sat a painting, inconspicuous to most considering it was much smaller than the grand pieces to the left, but it had your eyelashes fluttering

white gardenias.

your breath left you quietly.

it wasn’t just flowers - it was an oil painting, textured with strokes of green, ivory and creams whilst petals cascaded over one another so delicately your heart ached. the background dat moodier, darker compared to the softness of the flower leaving you in a state of utter awe for a few moments, all whilst holding the hand of your ex-husband who watched you with bated breath.

it was beautiful.

you stepped closer unconsciously, hardly aware of yourself.

jungkook didn’t think he’d ever seen you look at something with this much wonder, in all of the years he had known you. it did something to him, to watch you genuinely in awe at something he could so easily give you - it made him realise he needed provide it for you just to see that look again and again and again and again and again.

he felt this throat tighten, a harsh lump forming the longer he watched you admire it. the way your glossy lips parted, eyes widened and fingers tracing the air in front of it - donned in the same diamond necklace he had gotten you years prior. the same necklace he’d bought you after you murmured something about diamonds resembling stars late one night as you curled into him in your shared bed.

and here you were, wearing it, all whilst your hand curled inside his as though you had never been more at peace. that did something to him. something he couldn’t quite describe.

your fingers moved to brush over the small description plaque underneath, reading the inspiration for the piece with a small, choked huff - devotion. enduring, eternal love through trial and tribulation through each season of life.

your own throat tightened then. of course.

“gardenias are difficult flowers..they die so easily if you don’t take care of them.” you found yourself whispering; straightening your back and avoiding his gaze to bite back any tears that wanted to appear.

his chest tightened violently.

all he could think about was the little apartment you had both shared when you were younger, when he barely had any money to get you by each month. the one with the poor lighting and the janky sink - you used to sit by the window each morning whilst he got ready for work, whispering sweet things down at them because you believed it would help them grow.

he remembered every single detail.

“you kept yours alive for months.” he whispered back, the hand that was clasped in yours now intertwining your fingers, as though he could project his memories back to you.

you blinked back at him, eyes glassy, surprised slightly. you hadn’t expected him to remember something so small and insignificant.

how could jungkook could ever forget a single thing about you?

a small smile pulled at your lips. “i used to get upset whenever they’d lose petals.”

“you cried once.” he corrected.

you rolled your eyes. “shut up!”

he only shrugged, lips twitching. “had to console you all night.”

“i thought i killed it!”

his quiet laugh nearly knocked the air from your lungs, all whilst he pulled you back into him, breathing in the scent from your hair before taking you to your shared table, where the auction was about to begin. your fingers remained curled around his own, all whilst he helped you sit down, fixing your dress for you.

he physically couldn’t pull away from you, couldn’t stop touching you even as you began conversing to the woman beside you, who jungkook recognised as one of his shareholders. his thigh was pressed against yours, all whilst his hand sat heavy in your lap, both of your hands playing with his fingers absentmindedly.

the different items came on stage as you watched people bid, raising their panels whilst some shouted out their numbers for more exclusive pieces. you couldn’t help your giggles, leaning over to whisper in jungkook’s ear whenever you’d see more excited people, all for him to lean into you with an equal smile. the two of you were being silly, and it felt fun for once.

by the time the gardenia painting finally appeared, your posture straightened as you tapped on his hand with a wiggle of your eyebrows. jungkook watched you with a lazy grin, eyes flicking over your face.

cute.

the bidding started much lower than you expected, causing you to frown. “that’s it?”

he nearly laughed, seeing your passion for your flowers. “art’s subjective, baby.”

“yeah, well everyone is wrong..so.”

fuck. he loved you so much.

you watched as someone raised their paddle, and then another, and another. a bidding war began as your head bounced between people, watching in utter curiosity though a part of you wondered what it would be like to bid yourself. ironically for you, you were completely unaware of the man beside you staring at your profile like he wanted to devote the rest of his life to you.

“two million.”

your eyebrows raised.

“two and a half!” someone else shouted, causing you to play with his fingers a little faster almost out of excitement.

“hope someone who actually appreciates it gets it.” you leaned over to whisper into his ear, lips brushing against his cheek in the process.

his jaw ticked.

game on.

just as someone shouted out, claiming three million, jungkook ran a hand through his hair before raising his panel, dark eyes trained on the auctioneer.

“five million.”

your head snapped sideways so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, all whilst jungkook sat completely calm, hand raised lazily as though this was easy. like he hadn’t just dropped five million as though it was nothing.

“jungkook!” you whispered, eyes wide. he merely hummed back at you, hand still intertwined with yours. “hm?”

“what are you doing?!”

“getting you your painting.”

you stared at him in disbelief.

across the room, multiple people were openly whispering now, glancing between you because everyone could recognise what was exactly happening. this wasn’t ego - this was love.

obsessive, and terrifying love.

another bidder raised their paddle almost nervously, calling out a measly “five and a half” after a moment of hesitation.

“seven million.”

an audible murmur fluttered through the room just as you grabbed onto his arm with a large gasp, eyes widening as though he was batshit insane. “jungkook, stop!”

he finally looked at you, small smile playing on his lips at the sight of you so shocked. it was so cute the way you were practically toppling over your seat, a reminder that despite being with him, you had never really dabbled in his wealth whatsoever despite it all belonging to you.

a large shout of ‘sold’ was heard by all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. his eyes admired you, from your lips to your eyes, your shaking hands that were both clinging to his thigh, your cleavage that had dipped even further than earlier. fuck. you were the epitome of everything he had ever wanted.

“you wanted it.” he whispered to you, as though that was all he needed, as though it was enough of a reason to spend seven million in one night with a flick of his wrist.

your eyes near enough watered at his words, knowing that nothing had ever described jungkook better.

—

things between you and jungkook had settled into something dangerous.

not enough to call yourselves fixed, or enough to place a label onto whatever fragile thing had formed between you, but enough that your days seemed lighter. having him back in your life meant you were happy again, and actually excited - finally feeling whole in ways that no one else quite understood.

he called more often now.

what started off as phone calls sometimes briefly between meetings, something about using your voice to destress before important gatherings. they quickly turned to late night facetimes where both of you laid in bed, half naked, chatting until either of you would fall asleep. some nights they turned into something darker, dirtier, with a slip of your night dress to show him more all whilst he’d grunt and hiss at the sight, whispering all of the things he wanted to do to you.

it was beginning to feel domestic, familiar even. so terrifyingly easy.

you realised pretty quickly that somewhere along the way, between late night conversations and soft laughs exchanged, you had began falling deeply in love again.

hard.

he had been away on business ever since the gala a few weeks ago, with him currently stationed in hong kong over some important stakeholder meetings. you knew he was incredibly stressed over it, given the frequency of his calls - always at odd times during the day and night, sometimes with the intention of just looking at your face as though it was the only motivator he needed.

the time difference was more irritating than you had expected, and yet he still managed to find a way to accommodate to your schedule as opposed to his.

your favourite so far had been a simple picture of the skyline view from his hotel, taken at three am with a caption of ‘wish you were here.’

you hated how much those four words affected you.

pathetic, really. how even now, you’d kick your feet in excitement over any message sent from your ex husband.

it had become routine now, to expect messages from him with each waking moment, calls when the workload was heavier. perhaps that was exactly why the silence that afternoon felt so particularly loud.

you were curled into your couch, opting to work from home as you were in his jumper and a pair of flimsy shorts. you hummed quietly as you balanced your laptop on your thighs, all whilst a random entertainment news channel played in the back to offer some noise in your otherwise quiet apartment.

your ears perked up once you heard jungkook’s name somewhere in the background.

your attention barely lifted at first, no doubt another gossip sesh on how attractive he was which often made you giggle, but this felt different.

“ceo jeon jungkook spotted in hong kong alongside mystery woman-“

your stomach dropped.

the laptop slipped from your thighs and onto the couch cushion, all whilst your head snapped towards the television, reaching for the remote to turn it up. the image splashed across the screen, all whilst you sat there, smaller than anything, watching.

jungkook.

beside him, an undeniably beautiful woman.

she was tall, elegant, dressed sharply in a suit practically created for her whilst cameras flashed at them harshly, exiting a building together. the headline underneath made your chest cave in further.

‘global heartthrob ceo finally moving on after the divorce?’

you stared. and stared, and stared, and stared, and stared, and stared until your knees had slowly slid to the ground, your back touching the couch whilst the entertainment show droned on and on about the details of your relationship with jungkook, about how smitten you had both seen at the gala, how they were the first to break this exclusive news.

your brain knew better. you knew jungkook like the back of your hand and logically, you fucking knew better. jungkook was so many things, but he had always placed you and your emotions first, your priorities, your necessities, your life - your wants and needs transcended everything else. you had never asked for it to be this way, it was just the way he was.

even during your separation, he had never looked at a woman twice. you knew that.

but logic had never been able to defeat insecurity.

all you could think, all you could see, based off of a single image was how she fit beside him. how effortless it looked, how beautiful she was, how successful. so poised and polished - she was everything a woman who stood beside jungkook ought to have been and it was killing you in real time.

the worst thing of all was the realisation that he didn’t belong to you.

all of this emotion, this horrible feeling inside your chest and soul - you were the one to divorce him. you had been the one that demanded it end back then, no matter how much he had begged you to see reason, believing that it was the correct step forward for the both of you. he had every right to move onto someone else, had every right to actually step forward towards something new.

and yet the thought of him belonging to someone else felt the closest to grief you had ever felt in your life.

your phone rang violently loud beside you, droning out the words of the presenter and making you jump slightly.

jungkook.

your eyes burned instantly.

the phone continued to ring and ring across the sofa cushion as you stared at his contact picture, a photo taken on your anniversary a few years ago that you could never bring yourself to change. your chest rose unevenly as another harsh wave of emotion hit you.

you couldn’t do this.

not after you had spent the past few months trying not to think about him, only for him to come back into your life.

the call rang out.

then another came. and another. and another.

your phone was blowing up with a mixture of calls and messages, each vibration making your heart ache so much worse as the topic changed on the tv, talking about some other celebrity gossip all whilst you felt your entire life collapse before your very eyes.

with shaking hands and teary orbs, you turned your phone off.

you burst into tears.

the rest of the day was spent being utterly miserable. you had never felt so pathetic in all of your life, with pain running up and down your veins in a way that genuinely left you almost debilitated. the last time you were this heartbroken, you were a fresh divorcee.

the curtains remained shut despite the afternoon sun outside, your apartment dim besides the soft flicker of the television that continued playing mindlessly in the background. at some point, you had dragged yourself towards your bed with tears still streaming down your face, his oversized jumper now heavy on your frame.

you hated this version of yourself.

hated how deeply this had affected you despite knowing better. you knew him better than this, had enough trust in him and yet you couldn’t barter with what was directly in front of you - months after rebuilding a sense of confidence all for it to shatter over one measly, gossip channel.

you closed your eyes, images of the beautiful woman stood beside him flooding your mind causing you to open them up again with a quiet whimper. so composed and effortless. untouched by the devastation eating you alive.

by morning, your chest was in genuine pain.

you looked awful too.

your eyes were swollen, red with the continuous tears all night whilst your skin felt sunken and dull, the early morning sun hitting your skin from glimpses through your blinds. you forced yourself out of your bed and into your shower, trying to rid the plaguing thoughts out of your body. you failed, spending the majority of it quietly crying.

by the time you were in the living room again, your nose was just as pink as your eyes, hands shaky and body adorned in an old t-shirt you had secretly stolen from his wardrobe back when you were packing to leave. you curled weakly into the couch, blanket curled onto your legs as you begged your body to rid the horrible stomach ache that had now found home inside you.

your phone remained switched off, somewhere under the blanket, still left there from yesterday. you reached for the remote.

you just wanted mindless noise.

instead, the television flickered to life and you found your breath catching harshly for the umpteenth time within 24 hours.

breaking news banners on every channel you came across.

jeon jungkook.

a whimper pulled up out of your throat at the sight of his images everywhere, your fingers tightening around the blanket before you turned the volume up.

“the ceo has officially filed legal proceedings against multiple media outlets this morning following yesterday’s false dating allegations-“

your heartbeat began thundering. you sat up immediately.

another clip appeared instantly, reporters practically tripping over one another in front of jungkook’s main company building, cameras flashing in hopes of getting a picture of anyone who could answer for anything.

“the statement released by jeon jungkook’s legal team less than half an hour ago reads as follows-“

the screen shifted, and suddenly, there it was. cold white text against a black background that had your breathing stopping completely.

“the allegations regarding ceo jeon jungkook are entirely false. the individual photographed was present for a scheduled business meeting attended by multiple executives and investors. legal action will be taken against all parties responsible for the deliberate spread of false information and invasion of privacy.”

your throat tightened harshly.

your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the presenter stop, looking at the camera momentarily, before her voice completely softened.

“as for the final portion of the statement, many online are expressing surprise regarding the unusually personal nature of his response as he personally commented-“

more text appeared.

you scanned it once. twice.

over and over and over until a harsh sob was ripped from your lips.

“i have never entertained nor pursued any romantic involvement with anyone.

there has only ever been one woman.”

a broken sound tore from your throat as your hand flew to your mouth, fresh tears spilling from eyes so fast that you couldn’t see the tv. your heart felt like it had been picked up from the ground, cradled and cherished after being pierced over and over all night, attacked without any reprise.

you couldn’t believe what you were reading.

jungkook, your jungkook? so private and reserved, not willing to give one inch of himself to anyone other than you and yet here he was, making himself as clear as possible. he was telling everyone with ears that you were his but more importantly, he belonged to you and you alone.

he despised media attention, it truly was the one thing he hated more than anything and the both of you would often laugh at rumours and random things stated in the tabloids because they were all bullshit.

and yet he has made a statement publicly.

for you.

your chest cracked at the thought as you covered your face with both hands, sobbing harder and harder.

before you could wallow further, a loud banging erupted from the front door.

the sound tore so violently through the apartment, you jumped - startled on the couch whilst your heart leapt to your throat. the slight fear had your tears stopping immediately, allowing for enough of a shock to regulate your mind for a few moments.

another knock came before you could even process it. louder, and louder, and louder.

“baby!”

your breath hitched painfully.

jungkook?

his voice sounded wrecked. not the calm, controlled man the world knew, nor the eerie ceo who often stood emotionless in front of the cameras whilst deals worth billions sat heavy on his shoulders. this was your jungkook - the one who loved you much too hard, half unravelled whenever the conversation pertained to you.

“open the door.” he shouted again, along another collective banging. his voice cracked slightly. “please..”

you stared into space for just a moment, your mind unable to comprehend what was happening before your legs carried you to the door, through the hallway. you slipped on your blanket slightly, already shaking body weaker than usual given the past twenty four hours, all whilst hot, heavy tears burned in your eyes once more.

another knock.

“baby, c’mon..”

the second your shaking hands unlocked the door, it swung open hard enough to hit the wall behind it, as though jungkook couldn’t believe you had actually heard him.

he looked utterly destroyed.

he stood, still in a suit that now sat disheveled on his frame, black tie loosened around his throat, white shirt wrinkled as though he had been in it for hours. his usually pushed back hair was messy, pulled at and tugged through large hands any time he had realised the depths of emotion you were no doubt feeling looking at the news - if the shoe was on the other foot, and jungkook had seen news of you and another man; he would’ve happily burnt the world to a crisp.

the second he saw you, his entire face fell apart, anger long dissipating.

“fuck.” he whispered, heaving out a breath.

his oversized shirt sat on your body, engulfing your smaller frame, swallowing you whole in a way that had his breath taken away. it was your eyes that broke him, however, as they looked so swollen, no doubt from crying so hard, your cheeks still damp and lips still quivering enough that he watched you bite down on them.

you watched his throat bob harshly, watched his eyes flicker over yourself frantically like he was trying to assess how badly you had been hurting without him here to comfort you. the thought terrified him.

that was all it took for a sob to rip out of your chest so painfully your knees almost buckled. your hands flew up to your face.

immediately, his arms shot out, cradling you almost harshly to him with one large arm completely covering you whilst his large hand pressed against the back of your head, holding you close to him as though this was the only remedy for a situation like this. his sweet girl. his sweet, sweet girl.

“i called you for nineteen fucking hours.” he said, eyes darting down at you desperately.

you couldn’t stop crying. “i know.”

“your phone was off.” his voice broke slightly, as though the situation had hurt him beyond words. “that scared me, y/n.” he admitted, chest heaving a little.

your crying only worsened immediately because of course it scared him - jeon jungkook, a man who’s entire identity was you and you alone. the prospect of losing you for the second time would surely be enough to kill him, and yet answering his calls felt like the last thing you could bring yourself to do.

“i tried not to think like that,” you choked out through hiccups. “i know you wouldn’t, logically i know but just kept seeing the pictures of you beside her and..”

your chest was heaving.

“stop talking about her.”

the words came out sharp, almost harsh.

his hand slipped to cup your face, holding your jaw in place whilst his arm slipped down, cupping your body to him so you could rest, his own strength supporting you up. his eyes were wild.

“don’t,” he repeated quieter, chest rising and falling. “don’t..stand here and..fuck, don’t compare yourself to someone else for even a second over some shitty tabloid.”

you couldn’t stop crying. it was as though that was all you could do.

“jungkook..”

“no.” he cut in immediately, voice cracking at the edges. “you don’t get it.”

he stood before you, a cocktail mix of utter despair and devotion, all whilst anger and fear simmered on the surface, every emotion open on his face to the point he almost felt unrecognisable. you knew he loved you, could see it painted on his features for the world to see but you weren’t sure when his feelings for you had become his very destruction. it scared you.

his hand shook around your face.

“you think i flew half a day because of a fucking dating rumour?” his eyes glazed over. “i don’t give a fuck about the tabloids, baby, you know that. i was scared because i know what this would do to you. i know your brain.”

your breath hitched.

“i know you.” he repeated, hands continuing to shake against you. “know how your mind gets. i know you’d sit here and cry over this shit when you know i would never touch another woman.”

another harsh sob clawed up your throat, and jungkook heaved at the sight as though it was the worst sound he had ever heard.

“look at me.” he pleaded suddenly.

his hands dropping from your body as he suddenly dropped to his knees - a man of his stature rendered completely broken by the woman he loved. the amount of people who looked up to him, feared him; the amount of people he dictated on a daily basis and yet here he was, on his knees for you. only you.

“there has never been anyone else.” his voice cracked completely. “not before you, not after you. not after this, no matter what happens, you hear me? it’s you, and it’s always going to be just you.”

your own knees were begging to give out, as you leaned against him, only for him to rest his face against your stomach, breathing you in like a man desperate for your understanding. he wanted you to see, needed you to comprehend the situation at hand. there was no him without you, the concept didn’t exist.

“you’re the only woman i’ve ever loved and there is nothing after you, y/n, because you’re my wife. divorce or not, i don’t give a fuck, i belong to you forever whether you want me or not and i won’t..i can’t have you thinking otherwise.”

your entire body gave in at the admission as you collapsed into him with another heart breaking sob, jungkook holding you like a man terrified he had said too much and truly not enough. for the first time since the divorce, neither of you tried to pretend this wasn’t exactly what it was.

—

the rest of the evening softened after that.

somewhere between the tears and the endless kisses planted to your cheeks, nose, head, hands and stomach came an ease to the panic that had long settled into your bones for the past few months. he refused to let you go, grunting almost childishly whenever you’d move out of his arms to do anything until you found yourself snuggled back into his arms, as though the thought of distance after such a clear cut declaration of love physically pained him.

he looked exhausted now that the adrenaline of the situation had worn off, his under eyes sunken from the exhaustion that had now settled deep into his body. to think he had flown all the way across the world simply because of the thought of you crying all alone over a situation that was so completely false upset him - it made you want to sob all over again.

how could you have ever let him go? how could you proceed forward without him, without him so deeply intertwined in your life once more?

eventually you found an old pair of black shorts mixed in with your clothes from when you had packed your things all those months ago. jungkook had stared at them for a few moments after his shower, towel low on his hips as water droplets slipped down his chest. it had his heart pounding faster than anything yet.

“you kept these?” he murmured down at you, watching the way your eyes flickered up from his physique, small gasp leaving your lips at being caught. “oh! um..must’ve slipped them in by accident.”

he didn’t comment on the fact you were wearing his t-shirt either, despite it hardening his cock.

still, he pulled them on as you settled into bed, your hair still scented from your earlier shower too. you, in his too big top, whilst he grabbed you immediately, shirtless and hands still desperate to hold you in a way he had held back on for so long.

you hummed as your body pressed against his, his figure snaking around your body as a heavy arm curled under your ass as a means to prop you up higher in his arms, causing you to giggle into his neck. your arms wrapped around him too, humming a little under your breath as he breathed in your scent openly.

you both laid there in silence for a long while, breathing. healing.

the room was dark now, with the city lights from afar shining through the slips of your blinds, illuminating slivers of his bare chest beside where your hands sat. you could feel his heartbeat, the way it calmed your already heightened senses as though your body recognised it was finally home.

“missed this.” you whispered into his ear, only snuggling closer to him.

jungkook’s grip, once on your waist, slid down to your ass once more. this time, his palm sat on your ass cheek, fingers digging into your skin whilst breathing you in.

“don’t say shit like that to me when i’m hard.” he grunted, a small smile forming across your lips. you hadn’t even done anything, not that you needed to to get jungkook bothered.

when you pulled him from your neck, his eyes were already glazed over, both of you taking a second to simply stare at one another in the exact way you had wanted for so long. his mouth parted, as his hooded eyes took you in, holding you closer, tighter.

within seconds, his lips touched yours.

slowly, at first, as though he was trying to relearn you after years of you being his. he savoured every moment of your lips against his, especially once you started to kiss him back, both of you uncertain in the beginning but once your hands began to find home in his hair, it was then that jungkook’s touch began to grow in confidence.

he kissed like a man starved, one hand buried in your hair too whilst the other continued to grip your ass possessively, as though physically feeling you was enough to have his mind go into overdrive. every small sound you made went straight to his cock as he swallowed your little sighs and whimpers, only pushing him to kiss you deeper and deeper and deeper.

he was growing desperate, pushing you down against the bed, half hovering over you as he rested on one arm, hand cupping at your thighs, your stomach, your knee. anything he could get his hands on all whilst his tongue explored your mouth as though he had every right.

perhaps he did because despite everything, the divorce and distance, the heartbreak - he still reacted to you like you were the only thing capable of fucking him up.

his lips eventually drifted from your mouth, pressing against your chin, your jaw and finally your neck. oh, this sweet, pretty little neck, he had dreams of marking it up and down every other night and the fact he had you in his arms now, in a bed far too small for the things he so desperately wanted to do to you was everything and more.

jungkook moved, properly hovering over you now just as you moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, pushing your top down your thighs and revealing your lace panties you had conveniently put on. just in case, of course.

he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths as you watched it break apart the further he pulled his head back. just staring at you hurt, with the way your cheeks had flushed and your hair was spread all across the pillow, and your thighs. fuck. the sight of what was between them had him openly groaning down at you.

“need you to tell me to stop baby, or i won’t be able to hold back.” he hissed down at you, feeling your legs tighten around him before he could finish his sentence.

your hands moved to the waistband of his shorts, eyes never leaving his as you tugged on it just slightly. jungkook, who’s two hands were on either side of your head, blinked down at you half in awe and other agony, the prospect of you teasing him in a moment like this his literal worst nightmare. you always knew how to make him impatient, said it was the best version of him.

he watched with bated breath as you grabbed one of his arms until his hand was in your own, slowly pushing it under your top to rest on your stomach. it felt heavy on your frame, large palm heating your already hot skin before you pulled him down, other arm wrapping around his neck.

“wanna feel you here, kookie.” you whispered into his ear.

jungkook nearly took you then and there.

his jaw flexed, a heavy leaving his lips as he chased your lips, planting another kiss. “yeah? want kookie deep inside?”

“mhm.” you hummed against him, placing your hand over his on your stomach.

“but haven’t taken me for so long, baby. might be too much.”

you closed your eyes at that - the way he cooed down at you despite telling you how easily he could ruin you, break you. it all felt like too much and yet the empty ache inside of you reminded you it wasn’t enough, causing you to merely nod.

“i don’t care. want it.”

the pout on your lips. fuck. jungkook thanked the gods he was a better man, more patient, especially knowing you were doing this on purpose.

“always used to struggle to take me, hm? fucked you open every night and you’d still cry.”

jungkook reached forward, lips on your neck once more but this time, his hips began chasing yours, grinding down almost harshly, causing you to feel every inch, every vein against the flimsy material you called panties. it was heavenly

your hands grabbed him by his biceps, smaller hands unable to wrap around the circumference of his skin. how could you forget your nights of passion? he would spend hours between your legs, so mean, orgasm after orgasm and he still wouldn’t feel satisfied, an insatiable man to his core. even on nights you’d argue, it would somehow end in you fucking which meant the last eight months had been utter hell.

your poor fingers couldn’t reach far enough and nothing brought you to an orgasm unless you thought of him, imagining it was own digits instead of your own.

silly you - if only you realised how similar you and jungkook were. he couldn’t get off unless he was on your instagram, staring at your pretty eyes and lips as he tugged on his cock with all of his energy, round after round after round only to be constantly dissatisfied. having you below him, so ready to be his again? it fucked with his head.

“you'll make it fit.” you whispered.

within mere moments, neither of you could wait. his shorts, alongside the large tshirt that originally belonged to him were on the floor, leaving you in your lacy panties alone. his boxers strained against his hardened length which oozed precum at the mere sight of you, hips bucking a little as you watched him groan out loud at the wet patch forming against the flimsy material.

“my pretty pussy.” he whispered, just as he parted your legs. his fingers pushed your panties to the side, almost hissing from how damp they were, knowing you must have been needy for a while. “missed her. you’ve been holding out on me, baby.”

your eyelashes fluttered up at him at the first touch of his fingers running up and down your slit. you let out an airy moan, barely audible, your body immediately easing back into the covers now that you could finally feel him on you.

he suckled on your neck whilst he circled your clit, knowing your body better than anyone. you were both so in tune with each other’s wants and needs that an eight month break between you both meant nothing when he bit against the sweet spot on your neck all whilst applying more pressure.

you squeaked, nails digging into his biceps at the harshness of his fingers.

“fuck, you’re so needy.” he grunted, pulling away from your neck after leaving a hefty purple bruise. “not been touching your pussy the way it needs.”

“doesn’t feel..” you moaned louder. “doesn’t feel good if you don’t do it.”

his eyes almost rolled back at that. “yeah? need kookie to be the one to touch you?”

“mhm.”

at that, he pulled his hand away only resulting in a loud whine from you. so cruel, to have been given a taste, only to have it pulled away from you.

your positions, however, suddenly changed as jungkook realised the space on the bed was much smaller compared to the bed you had once shared. he rested his back on your wooden bed frame before grabbing you properly, resting you in his lap against his too hard cock, spreading your legs wide.

your back was against his chest, all whilst he caged you in, his fingers returning to your cunt immediately.

this new position had you so much more exposed, as he pushed your thighs apart, index finger circling your hole before slowly pushing inside. your eyebrows furrowed, watching him with a shake to your breath as he took his time, knowing a single one of his was the equivalent of two or three of your own - a though that had him wanting to fuck into you already.

the loud moan that left your lips once he fully inserted it was enough to have him kissing at your temple, cooing.

“like that?”

“feels big.” you whispered back with a shake, feeling him pump in and out.

at that, jungkook thought he was ready to fucking cum. even your pussy was as sweet as you were - too big? one finger and you were already fucked out, but he knew he had to stretch you to accommodate him, a thought that brought a nasty little smirk on his face.

“gotta fuck you open, baby. always so tight.” he continued to coo at you, all as you looked up at him, his finger being joined with another.

soon enough, he was roughly fingering you, all whilst you both maintained eye contact, often breaking it just to share a kiss as though neither of you could get closer to the other. the feeling of him inside you, just like you had become used to for so many years after months apart was the definition of pleasure, your eyes hooded with each pump.

“feels s’good.” you slurred slightly, chest heaving.

he watched your breasts, your bed squeaking with each passing movement and he fucking loved it. loved having your eyes on him, loved having your tits bounced everytime he’d fuck you open a little harder, your sweet moans filling the space.

you could feel how hard he was, but everytime you tried to turn to pleasure him too, he’d merely hold you tighter, as though your orgasm was the only objective on his mind. he wanted to eat you out, fuck - the thought had him all but growling at you but he knew he’d never last, promising himself he’d save that for later tonight.

“wish you knew how many times i’ve dreamt about this.” he grunted down at you, as he watched your thighs try to close from the onslaught of pleasure, only for him to widen them immediately. “i’m constantly fisting my cock thinking about you. at work, at home, in the fucking car.”

“what do you think about?” you pressed desperately, needing to hear it.

jungkook bared his teeth at you slightly, all whilst his pace quickened. “think about breeding you, pumping you full of cum till you’re begging me to stop. every morning, every night until you’re pregnant with our baby. you’d like that, hm?”

you could have sobbed. like was an understatement, your legs widening with each passing word as you nodded almost desperately at him, looking up and above where his head tilted down to watch you.

your eyes then fluttered shut at the image of him touching himself, almost shuddering out of relief at the thought of him so infatuated that he had to cum just to get you off of his mind. especially at work - the whole reason of your divorce being his dedication to his occupation and now knowing you had your affect on him there too? it was euphoric.

“think about you all the time.” you whimpered back at him, pout so cute he wanted to scream. “tried..fuck..tried to touch myself after the gala..but wasn’t enough.”

he watched as you shook your head up at him, one of your hands on his wrist as the same hand pumped faster inside of you at the admission. he cursed under his breath, letting out a deep exhale.

“should’ve told me. fuck, y/n. would’ve ruined you then, baby, you know that right?” he nuzzled into your cheek. “would’ve let you use me as much as you want.”

it was your turn to whimper under your breath, as your eyes shut tight at the familiar feeling in your stomach starting to creep up. it was shocking, how slowly it managed to creep on you, and yet you could feel every inch of its intensity, the first in a long time where you know you’d feel satisfied.

jungkook could feel you clenching, your too tight hole sucking him in desperately as a bid to have him go meaner on you, to which he was more than happy to oblige with. he grabbed your chin with his other hand, forcing your head back so you’d open your eyes again. he wanted to watch.

“eyes on me, pretty girl.”

you weren’t sure if it was the sweet way he cooed at you, or the brutal pace he was now forcing you to take but your orgasm hit you like a freight train. you let out a loud squeak as electricity fluttered through from your head to your toes, your hips rising whilst he continued to finger you through your high, hissing at how sexy you looked maintaining eye contact.

his pace didn’t lessen, devoted to longing out every hit of pleasure for as long as possible, your legs shaking as you pawed at his wrist, but he refused to stop. your body began falling into overstimulation, whining loudly as your weakened hands grabbed onto his, feeling him finally slow whilst he remained two fingers deep, pushed inside of you all the way to his knuckles.

he curled them one last time, causing a shaky breath to leave you before slowly removing them inch by inch.

the emptiness inside of you was horrible, a reminder of what else you wanted and how badly. your big eyes met his, only to watch him take his fingers press them against your pouted lips until they parted, your tongue wrapping around. you tasted yourself, a sweet sigh leaving his lips at the sight of you sucking so eagerly, his cock jolting harshly in his boxers.

“still don’t think you can take me right now.” he whispered down at you, other hand moved so it was openly cupping your pussy as a whole, palm brushing against your hypersensitive clit.

you jolted which each passing touch, breathing shaky before you took his fingers out of your mouth, saliva coating them where your slick once was.

“don’t care, kookie. i want it anyway.” you grumbled slightly, and he swore he had never loved you more.

it was your turn to move as you pulled away from his grasp, giggling a little to yourself at the look on his face once you put space between you, only to turn around, so you were laying on your stomach. he remained in his position, legs on either side of you allowing you to press your hand against his massive bulge.

oh, how you’d missed his cock.

you were as impatient as ever as you pulled his boxers down enough so that his fat cock could finally spring free, watching the way it tilted upwards at first, but its weight forced it down lower and lower until it was resting almost gently on your face.

he wanted to take a picture. wanted to make it his screen saver, your contact picture in his phone - he wanted it in his fucking wallet. his girl, eyes all hooded after being bratty for his cock? you were a minx and you didn’t even know it.

“don’t have a condom.” he found himself whispering at you, just as you began to pump him.

you tilted your head at him, hand unable to wrap around his length as you slowly teased his slit, fingers brushing against it just to him shudder. you watched his face, watched his very composure crumble before your very eyes all whilst he muttered something about a condom? your mind was barely working, still sensitive from the way he had made you cum and the horniness still in your stomach.

“why would i want you to wear a condom?” you whispered up at him, as though it was a little secret between you.

you watched his eyes darken in real time, narrowing down at you as both of his large hands grabbed the back of your head. you giggled, resting your cheek on his thigh whilst you continued to pump his cock, focusing on the tip just the way he liked it. the heaviness in your hand was what you missed the most, causing you to leave a little kiss to it on the mushroom tip, your fluttering eyes only driving him more and more insane.

he wouldn’t last like this. not with you staring up at him like that.

and so, he pulled your hair. you whimpered, pussy clenching as he pulled you up by your locks, your large eyes completely taken over by how rough he was being with you, no doubt being fuelled by the heightened emotions of the past two days. this was your favourite jungkook, secretly of course.

within seconds, you were on your back once more, all whilst he grabbed your hips and yanked you close to him. he dropped down to give you a kiss on your lips, savouring the taste and feel of you before beginning to rub his cock up and down your tight hole.

“my girl.” he whispered against your mouth. “no going back after this.”

your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of him teasing you, pushing the tip against your hole only to pull back the second it began inserting, rubbing it up and down and over your clit once more. he was a tease through and through, but you were too needy to see reason.

“don’t wanna go back, want it all.” you simply whimpered back.

your words were enough to finally have him pushing inside of you.

first, the tip. your face contorted to the familiar feel of his cock slowly inserting inside of you, your breath catching slightly at the sheer size of him - you struggled to take him even when your sex life was incredibly active, so you knew now that you hadn’t been touched for eight months, this was going to be hard.

you watched his face harden, all whilst your eyes slipped downwards to see him pushing further in, inch by inch, until your fingernails were puncturing the skin of his outer arms. he watched your face instead, willing himself not to cum at the way your jaw grew slack, big eyes only widening further at the too large cock settling in inside of you.

it was too much, too big, too at once. you couldn’t think, could barely see and yet you couldn’t pull yourself away from watching him bottom out even if you wanted to, a slight bulge evident where he sat deep inside of you. his large hand took a hold of yours and kissed it before pressing it against the bulge, only to rest his own right on top. applying pressure, he hissed at the way you let out a loud whimper, your cute thighs trembling around him.

“feel that?” he whispered down at you, nuzzling your nose to force you to look at him. “thats where i fucking belong. this pussy stretches so good for me every time.”

your lip was already trembling, a sight that had his cock throbbing deep inside of you as you clenched down on him hard. his cry baby - he loved seeing you teary during sex.

you were still adjusting as he began to move, causing you to squeal, but jungkook couldn’t wait anymore, not when he’d been dealt with blue balls for close to a year. you were the only option, pledging to live a life of fucking celibacy if you’d have chosen to never let him inbetween your legs again though the thought killed him inside. live a life without a taste of your sweet pussy? he’d sooner die.

“jungkook!” you slapped the tops of his biceps, as he continued his thrusting inside of you, nipping at your jaw, feeling his smirk against your skin.

the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you was intense, something you had been craving for so long now and yet now it was happening, you wanted more, and more and more and more and more. he loved this shy game you’d always play, always pretending like you couldn’t take it despite the fact your legs were widening further and you were moaning like a bitch in heat - it turned him on beyond words to know underneath the sweet persona, you were the filthiest slut he had ever known.

his pace was deep, mean but slow and it wasn’t enough, purposefully done to tease you for as long as he could, to ensure you’d stay needy. it was clearly working with the way your moans, whines and gasps filled the air only to be followed with a long drawl of his name, face scrunched up so cute he wanted to fucking scream.

“c’mon, baby, you’re so good to me.” he cooed, continuing his slow thrusts. “just gotta ask if you want something.”

your eyes scrunched shut, whimpering at his words knowing he wanted you in ways that you had reminisced on for months, the feeling of him kissing the gummy part of your cunt something you had missed so much.

“want it properly, kookie.” you begged him, though you couldn’t meet his gaze, eyes flickering down to his neck as he continued his pace. “yeah? tell kookie how you want it.”

your fingers clung to his shoulders as he came down, arms now pressed on either side of your head as he nuzzled your nose with his own, actions too sweet given the sinful position he had you in.

your breathing was ragged, the feel of him inside you too much for your poor little mind to handle without breaking and yet it wasn’t nearly enough. you craved something harsher, meaner, more jungkook. neither of you had ever been ones for soft sex, always preferring it as needy as possible which only heightened considering the fact you were both so utterly obsessive when it came to the other.

you whined loudly as his actions came to a stop completely, now grinding against you whilst still being inside.

“just want you to fuck me properly.” you whimpered, lip quivering so much faster, hips lifting to meet his as a means to relieve yourself.

god. you were killing him.

“good girl.”

jungkook planted a single kiss to your lips, oddly sweet before pulling back, planting two more to your forehead and nose. you were ready to whine once more until you felt his hips pull back, only to thrust into you harshly.

you squealed as jungkook began his pace exactly how you craved it, exactly how you used to picture with your own fingers in your cunt, desperately trying and failing to replicate the feel. hard. fast. mean. rough.

your neighbours would no doubt complain tomorrow with the way your bed frame began pounding into the wall, his head pressed against yours as his thrusts began kissing your cervix. your legs shook around him, much to his enjoyment, all whilst he forced you to maintain eye contact, wanting so badly to see the affect he was having on you after he had been deprived of you for so long.

“fuck..there she is. that’s my girl.” he hissed down at you, not holding back, the sound of skin slapping against skin heavy in the room. “you don’t know how badly i missed you.”

“m-missed..ugh! missed you..too..” you managed to string together, salted tears now escaping your eyes as they streamed on either side of the pillow.

“pretty girl like you needs to be fucked mean. no good to be nice to you, huh?” he growled down at you, only causing your lip to quiver that much faster as you nodded. “can’t think unless it’s me bullying your pussy into an orgasm.”

your nods were paired with soft sobs as he pounded, ruining your soppy core just like you had wanted. you had dreamt of this, dreamt of him, genuinely believing you’d never reach this state of pleasure ever again in your life and yet here he was, coaxing it out of you to remind you that he’d never leave you again.

his thrusts were sloppier than usual, no doubt due to the extensive length between your last fuck but it only had you moaning and crying louder. the thought of the usually composed jeon jungkook a whining mess for you and you alone had you clamping down hard on his cock.

“can’t believe i let you leave me.” he grunted hard at the feel of you getting so tight, gritting his teeth as he pounded you further. “never again. you fucking hear me, y/n? you’re my wife forever.”

“promise?” you sobbed back, arms now wrapping around his neck as you tried to bring him impossibly closer, as though you could in any capacity.

he nipped at your bottom lip, moaning into your mouth at the way you all but begged him to make it a reality.

“gonna take you to the courthouse tomorrow, get you a nice dress and we do..fuck..we do this again, understand?” he closed his eyes the more you whined and whined. “gonna let me put that ring back on your fucking finger, baby?”

you nodded wildly, just as you felt your orgasm build up in your stomach again, whining loudly up at him in a way he recognised immediately. fuck, he had missed this so much - his angel girl, all needy, begging for it even though she could barely take it. he could feel his own coming on fast, causing him to pull his hand down and rub at your clit, hissing at the feeling of you clamping down on his cock harshly.

“c’mon baby. want you to cum on your husband’s cock, hm? gonna get you nice and round like you deserve.” his thrusts only got meaner. “move you back in. fuck this pussy every single day, just like you need.”

your high rushed through you at the exact point his did, your legs wrapping around his waist as a means to keep him inside. you could feel it all through your body, the way it seized up and bucked into him all whilst he continued his thrusts, fucking you through both of your orgasms.

your vision started growing dark, the intensity of it overwhelming as he rode out your highs whilst whispering soft i love you’s in your ear, cradling you to his chest, holding you closer than you’d ever felt him before.

everything after that completely blurred together.

you remembered jungkook taking care of you, tenderness laced into his very being as he held you like you were akin to a porcelain doll - sweet, so soft, so delicate. somewhere between the damp kisses pressed to your skin underneath the bubbling bath he had drawn for you both, to the continuous declarations of love muttered down at you; you realised that this was inevitable. he was inevitable.

there didn’t exist a reality where you both could live without one another - you knew that now.

even after the heartbreak, the divorce, the loneliness and the debilitating grief, you still found yourself exactly where you belonged. your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat soothing you into a dreamlike state which paled in comparison to the reality that was now yours. his love had you wrapped so tightly you knew you’d never live without it again.

you were finally home.

—

this beast of a fic is finally done yay!!! i hope you guys love ex husband jungkook just as much as i do!

tried to make him less yandere in this one and more pathetic yearner lol but i may have slipped here and there 💔

i’d love to hear your thoughts on this - love hearing you guys after a fic drops so i’m excited to see what you all think!!!!

if you wanna help support me pay my disgusting, awful, horrific london rent, my kofi is linked <3

explicit warnings: cursing, thigh riding, cowgirl, oral (m rec), naughty studio time(??), couch sex, rough sex, giving yoongi the business, bold as fuck reader, choking, spanking, penetrative sex, kissing deserves to be here too lol, alexa play no hands by waka flocka, deep throating, hair/head tugging, nipple play, yoongi in that gd tank, yoongi in those gd glasses, teasing, titty fucking hello!!!!, stripping while he watches…. yeah, missionary, sub!3tanyoongi?????, scratching, multiple orgasms, protected sex, emotional sex, good god they’re so hot i’m blushing

—

—

It’s morning when Jimin gets a call. 

Shifting in sheets that aren’t his, he sleepily blinks once before eyeing the blue light with a squint, wondering who dares wake him up before his natural rise. What time even is it anyway? It’s gotta be an ungodly hour if his circadian rhythm is disturbed. 

Still, he grabs his cell from the nightstand, flinching at the movement behind him and inwardly slinging out curses. 

Because waking him up is one thing. 

But if anyone disturbs Taehyung he’s gonna give them hell—

Min Yoongi: Incoming Call

Shit.

Jimin yanks the covers off, rushing out of bed and snapping Tae awake anyway. For what? Don’t fucking know, but they’re ready. Wherever. Whatever. They already stayed up clutching their phones until they physically couldn’t keep their eyes open. 

Because as much as Yoongi assured him nothing would happen, Jimin still couldn’t let go of his car keys.

Answering slow, he feels his chest winding and winding, eyes locked with Taehyung while they both wait on edge, “…Yoongi?”

“Yeah.”

Thank the fucking stars. 

Yoongi’s okay. He’s on the line. He made it to morning or whatever fucking time it is, and he’s doing exactly what he said he would.

And it’s enough, enough, enough.

Burns zing up the corners of Jimin’s eyes, and he swipes hard as Taehyung moves, likely to hear what’s happening and even more likely to just be by his side. 

Jimin is grateful for either one. But he tries to keep composure as he croaks, “You better have woken me up for a reason.”

The slight hum on the line induces a wobbly smile. “You slept?”

“Fuck you,” Jimin shakily laughs, wiping liquid relief from an eye before Taehyung’s thumb brushes tenderly over the other. His gaze is thankful while continuing, “We did but not much.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Sniffling, Jimin walks to Tae’s door, letting him into the hallway first and finally drinking in the sight of his ass in those sweats. Because he can finally function like a normal, smitten loser again. “We’ll come over so we can—”

“No need.”

“What?” Nope. Back to panic mode. And judging from his boyfriend’s posture, Taehyung has backpedaled into that, too. “What do you mean no need?”

There’s a slight pause on the line, and small noises make their way through the speaker. It sounds like bedsheets, but it also sounds like… 

“She’s still sleeping.”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

A tidal wave of relief crashes into Jimin’s ducts as he hangs his head, palming his face caught in a heavy tide of emotion. When he turns, Taehyung fairs no better, his eyes red and fingers wiping at a perfect, perfect cheek. One of them sniffles, but Jimin can’t tell if it’s him or not, because his vision is blurry and his heart is beating, beating, beating again. 

Whether you know it or not, whatever you did last night may have just changed Yoongi’s entire life.

Because Jimin knows this man through and through. Years of picking up his habits and tells didn’t amount to nothing. It’s how he was able to sense exactly when to intervene, and how he knew exactly what that hauntingly hollow tone in Yoongi’s voice meant when he busted in that day. 

The tone he hears now? The man that just spoke on the line? 

That is a Min Yoongi so in love he can’t even hide it over the phone. 

Fuck. 

Gathering himself, Jimin squeaks out, “I… I’m glad you…” What the fuck does he say? Every thought jams in his throat so hard he has to hand the phone off.

Thankfully, Taehyung perfectly continues his thoughts, voice scratching rocks under a waking river, “We’re glad you’re both safe.”

“Mm.”

“So when’s the wedding?”

Jimin huffs through a fresh batch of tears, clearing his face before grinning at Tae very seriously awaiting an answer. Honestly, at this point? It’s not far-fetched. Jimin’s seeing your future clearer than his present, and maybe he will be a fun uncle sooner than he thinks.

If only Yoongi would just get the fucking talk with your brother over with. 

But Jimin understands the hesitation. If he were in that same position, there’s no telling when he would be courageous enough to stand up to the guy. There’s a reason he’s quick to command a room, and his lifelong mission to protect his younger sister made him grow up a lot faster than everyone else. 

Still… Yoongi just deserves to be happy. And you’re the very obvious answer to helping with that. 

As much as he may have wanted some chances of his own, Jimin is grateful you found your way into his best friend’s heart. Not just anyone is invited inside, and even less people can truly be allowed to stay. 

And you’re probably the only one that has permanent residence. 

“You guys should get some sleep.”

Taehyung pouts right on cue, and Jimin can’t fight those sleepy, droopy eyes. “You didn’t answer me.”

Cute as fuck! He must be stopped. Taking the phone, Jimin speaks into the line fully recovered, shooting his cheeky partner a teasing glare, “We will if you get some, too.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Got some things to do at the studio—”

“No!” They reject together, both equally as appalled because what the fuck kinda answer is that? 

“After what happened last night? Are you crazy?”

“What happened to spending time with her? Men!” 

“He’s going on a business trip, I can’t lose to him.”

“So what?” Tae asks before they both share an even further confused look. Yoongi may be a lovesick fool but that doesn’t give him an excuse to be a dumbass! “You’re just gonna leave her alone?”

There’s a sigh on the line before Jimin plants a hand on his hip. “Not just that. You gotta rest, too, bro. If she doesn’t tell you to take it easy or at least get checked—which she will—we’re going over there to annoy you.” 

“You serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious.” Jimin cocks his head and leans closer to the phone. “At least rest easy for the next couple days. Especially if you have all this time to see each other.”

The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Your brother is leaving for his trip and Yoongi caught some unfortunate hits to his ribs. The dude basically has a free pass to spend the whole week with you, and he’s not even taking full advantage of it? Oh, the things Jimin has to say about the thin line of work ethic and relationship effort. 

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it for a long time,” Taehyung cuts in before Jimin can pop off, walking away into the living room. 

It’s fine. Let him figure out that you aren’t a woman he can just leave. Frankly? That would tickle Jimin to no end to see Yoongi folding his plans so fast just to be with you. 

But he spares him the tirade only because you’re fast asleep right next to him. “Thank you for calling, man.”

“Said I would.”

“I know.” 

Because above all else, Jimin is happy to hear that voice. Even if it’s obvious he’s a little banged up from last night, it’s still Yoongi. In one piece. That’s all Jimin wanted, and he can’t thank you enough,

“Don’t overwork yourself, and stay with her as long as you can.”

There’s a small laugh on the other end. “I plan on it, Chim.”

And Jimin catches on to why. “I’m holding you to that then.” 

—

—

Dawn breaks through open blinds, stretching its orange tint across a clean, spotless table. 

You don’t know what got you up so early. But when you peer into the kitchen, you tell yourself you woke up right on time. 

Because seeing Yoongi when you’re wide awake is better than any dream you’ll ever have.

Not because of his appearance, even though the sight of him sends a pang through your chest. No. It’s the way he’s quietly prepping a morning meal, using the arm on his better side that’s not sporting a nasty hit to the ribs, without you even asking. 

Bits of sunlight dance right out of your eyes.

The effort. The consideration. This man shouldn’t be lifting a finger, yet here he is cooking before you even left his bed. Isn’t this the same man that got caught up in a fight hours ago? Isn’t this the same man you almost walked out on with a frozen heart? 

Yes. But he’s also the same man that loves you. And you still can’t grasp that concept in any of the fingers playing with his tee you borrowed.

“Hi,” you whisper, telling him a thousand things. 

To which he regards before smiling soft, voice travelling over linoleum and circling around your heart, “Morning, doll.”

Damn. You hear it. Yoongi’s sore as hell. 

But instead of getting into that right away, you silently take residence by his side. Because this moment feels too delicate, and you admire his willingness to take care of you unprompted. You didn’t even know you’d eat before going back home. 

With a hand warming his back, you wait until Yoongi’s done tossing food on the stove to peck his morning-chilled cheek. “Thank you for cooking,” you murmur, admiring those beautiful brown eyes. “Sleep okay?”

“Cus of you,” your lover softly responds, eyeing your lips before gliding back up to your gaze. “You?”

Ugh. He’s gotta know those glasses are so unfair. They’ve gotten you repeatedly before, and they’re certainly getting you now. 

But you can’t help but deflate at the cuts behind those rims, while knowing there are even more bruises hiding underneath his oversized tee. How is Yoongi cooking right now? How is he even awake? “Same.” 

“Good.” 

These instant, deep shivers at his deeper morning voice will never, ever go away. But anything you wanna do about them isn’t important right now. Right now, you need to make sure Yoongi is either okay, or finds a way to get better. 

Sliding your hands down the slopes of his chest, you delicately rest one on his ribs. “Does it still hurt?” 

Yikes. That wince is enough. But Yoongi doesn’t shy away from your touch, and you appreciate the way he stays honest. “It’s sore. But I should be good.”

“You gonna get it checked?”

There’s a slight upward tilt of his lips. “Not right now.” At least the honesty persists, as much as you don’t want him following the typical manly response to hospital visits. “But I will if you want me to.”

“Please go,” you gently urge, lest you disturb the soft morning dew before it melts with the sunrise. “For me?”

Only sizzles from the stove fill the space until Yoongi nods, and his voice is just as low and tender, “I’ll go after work.”

Oh. “You’re working today?”

Just like breakfast, you didn’t expect this, either. Frankly, you figured neither of you were gonna even think about work, much less go. Sure, he’s due a hospital visit and you owe some friends immediate explanations for your absence. But other than that, shouldn’t Yoongi be resting? 

Does his craft truly mean that much? 

Well, shit. You gotta respect his work ethic, that’s for damn sure. Because you would sequester yourself to your bedroom and have endless dates with your television if you were sporting a good jab or two. This music thing must mean more to Yoongi than you previously thought. And who are you to step on that dream? 

Suddenly, all thoughts and concerns flee from the kiss on your cheek. 

“I’ll stay if you stay,” he says, turning to move the pan and scrunching his face with a grunt. Fuck. 

“I…” Shit, you were gonna go back to the house anyway. And from Yoongi’s smartass smirk, you can tell he already knew that. “Just need to check on him, too. And he doesn’t have a car right now, so. I should at least give him a ride.” 

“Figured.” In a move so domestic your head spins, Yoongi turns your body and gently pats your butt. “Now go sit. Let’s eat and figure this out.” 

—

—

As you devour a flawless meal and clean your dishes, you plan out the day. You’ll head home and check on your brother while Yoongi heads to the studio, and then you’ll rendezvous with your friends to hang out until he’s done with work. They’re already lighting up your phone like no one’s business—especially Yuri. 

Yoongi flicks the sink off before you both head to his bedroom, and you melt at the way he slowly wraps his arms around your front halfway there, all four of your legs slowing to close the rest of the distance. 

What’s he doing? This is joyfully new, but you have a pretty tight deadline. Warming his forearm and your own cheeks, you chuckle out, “We have to hustle, old man.” 

“You hustle me all the time,” he accuses into your shoulder blade, kissing its ridge and making you reconsider walking out the door entirely. “Lemme have this.” 

Your second laugh is more subdued, and you’re right between his bed and desk when you lift both hands to hold him close. “You have everything I got,” you wisp into his skin, planting your lips once, twice before you feel his arms press further in. “So this is nothing.” 

Seconds and silence slide by, the delicate veil of early morning still hovering around the room. When Yoongi doesn’t say anything, you make to turn and face him. 

But you’re stopped before your heart skips. 

“I could stay like this all day,” he admits, voice so low it rumbles through your bones. “And it’d be perfect.” 

“What, you don’t wanna see my face?” You joke with a giggle. “Rude, but that’s fine.” 

Yoongi only buries his nose further, his glasses sliding against your skin peeking from his shirt. “I’m much braver right here, doll.” 

Oh. 

The leap your heart does is more of a dive, plummeting into the seafoam swirling around your feet. All the words you want to respond with jump off right after, leaving you with nothing but the clouds in your eyes. 

You don’t quite know what he means by that. But it feels like those six words hold the weight of a thousand, so you simply let another kiss on his smooth forearm linger. “Do you want me to go with you?” 

A puff of laughter warms you right through and, despite his earlier admission, Yoongi does slowly spin you around. 

And when you follow, you realize you’re much braver when you aren’t facing him, too. 

“It’s not that, babe,” he says through a dashing curve. “But the offer was cute.” 

“I take it back then.” 

“Damn!” 

Both of your laughs whoosh out and collide, sweeping as Yoongi pinches your side and you flinch towards the bed. “You fucker—!”

Before you know it, your back hits a comforter before a weight presses your stomach, emotions clashing as you’re elated and shy and immediately concerned for your boyfriend’s side. “Baby, be careful—”

Lips capture yours, sucking up your warning before a hand slides under your head. Sighing, you arch into his chest, feeling the weight of his chains slip across your breasts. 

Euphoria isn’t an adequate enough word to describe how you feel. Where there used to be flutters in your ribcage now reside strong, powerful wing beats, gusts of want and desire lifting you off the ground and launching you into clear skies. Starlight of every color exists within each kiss you share, and your fingers feebly grab his tee to keep you from falling back down to earth. 

“If we don’t go now,” Yoongi rasps before sliding his mouth against yours, “We’re never going anywhere again.” 

“I know,” you whisper, willingly letting him kiss you once more, “Is that a promise?” 

“Fuck, I wish.” 

You do, too. But you know you’re running out of time for what you need to do. And weren’t you just saying you had to respect his aspirations? Shit, you really do need to snap out of it. “Come on,” you order with a pat to his chest. “We have all week to do this. We got time.” 

Turns out, you’re still amongst the heavens. The way Yoongi’s looking at you? This is the closest you’ll ever get to being held by an angel. 

Did he get more handsome overnight? Or is it the light in his eyes sustained since his confession in the kitchen? You don’t quite know, and you may never pinpoint why, but the tug he has on your heart spans space and time. 

And you’ll run through both forever to keep meeting him again and again. 

Burns prick your eyes, but he mercifully stands before he can catch any evidence of your yearning. 

Just like that, the two of you bounce back to getting ready, with him sliding notebooks and headphones in a backpack while you change into your own clothes. As you sling your bag over a shoulder, he reaches for the closest hoodie, and you wordlessly make your way to the front door. 

You really do hope he gets looked at today. But just like the calm after a storm, you want to encourage him gently rather than shove him out. At least he seems receptive to your gentle suggestions.

But after you ask one more time and he simply nods, you lower your eyes to his kicks. “Sorry if I’m nagging. I’d just worry less if you went right away, that’s all.”

“You aren’t nagging, babe.” Your freshly bloomed lover reaches out to hold your wrist, smoothing a rough thumb over your skin. Fucking hell, you can’t help but frown at the gashes and cuts marring his knuckles. “I’ll go as soon as I can.”

Not just his hands, but his face. His ribs. And maybe other places you haven’t even seen yet. 

You don’t wanna leave his side. 

But you have to head out before your brother leaves. Things need to get patched up before he flies out into more stress, and you owe him an apology for walking out when he was still aching. Based on Yoongi’s physical state? Your brother could be hiding some big wounds and you didn’t even wanna talk to him. 

However. Was last night necessary? Absolutely. You cannot entertain the possible outcomes had you not tried hard enough to get through Yoongi’s door. His eyes were so dulled, his hands felt so cold. What would have happened if you didn’t force yourself inside? 

Why was that guitar smashed to pieces? 

This is also why you refuse to leave. So many questions, so many things you still don’t know. Like what all happened when you were separated? And how in the hell is this man in love with you?

“I don’t wanna go,” you confess, instantly encased in his arms and warmth. “I’d much rather keep kissing you.” 

“True,” he says with a resigned huff, shifting his glasses with an adorable nose scrunch. If only he didn’t have so many little red lines of conflict on his face. “But we both have stuff to take care of, so let’s get all that done first.”

“Ugh, fine.” Your groan is more teasing than serious, and Yoongi’s laugh is nothing but understanding. 

Damn. You still feel it. You really don’t wanna go. Be it the rawness of last night still on your skin, or the confessions still on your tongues, you just wanna stay by his side. “Sorry,” you breathe out, lacing your fingers to pepper love along his strong, reddened ridges. “I’m serious. I don’t wanna leave you right now.”

Walking out of Yoongi’s door just doesn’t feel right. Even if he’s right there and will be following you out. Is this feeling normal? Are you supposed to feel this tightly woven to someone? Because the stitching between your hearts has only gotten stronger in the tempest of last night, as if you bonded together just to hold on for dear life. 

Maybe that’s exactly what happened. And it’s exactly why you can barely take one step out of his place. 

“Then don’t.”

Not one second passes before your chin is held, and lips slide so tenderly across yours that they may as well melt into your touch. Your reaction is quickly swooped into his mouth, and everything falls away as you let him seize your every thought. Lightning from last night zips out of your limbs, your toes, your fingers clasping his loose tee. 

You might just cry where you stand.

How have his kisses gotten even better? How have you never felt this way even though you’ve done this far more times than you were ever supposed to? It should be impossible, and yet, this man finds even more ways to astound you. 

Yoongi slips a hand over your cheek, giving one more beautiful push of his lips as he confesses, “I don’t wanna leave you, either.” 

And your breath stutters onto his features. “You, too?”

Slow, he kisses your cheek, the clear rim of his specs skimming your nose. When he draws back, you look right into his eyes, wondering why he’s watching your mouth instead. 

“Me, too.” Yoongi kisses your other side with a quiet peck. “Fuck, me, too.” 

You fucking hate what you have to do, but you don’t have a choice. 

With one last lingering kiss, you both gather enough courage to set out and do what you must. 

—

—

Your house is already a flurry of activity as you enter to see your brother in the kitchen, packing his leather duffle that’s a constant companion on his trips. 

Of course. The memory of him purchasing the lavish accessory pops into your head every time you watch him scurry around, dimples ever present on his proud cheeks. It’s almost enough to make you smile yet again. 

But you can’t when the same face is currently scratched to hell. Just like Yoongi’s, if not worse. 

Fuck, is he really gonna travel looking like that? 

“Hey,” he rasps out, still fighting off slumber. “You’re back earlier than I thought.” 

“Wanted to check on you before we left.” Fuck, your voice sounds like it’s being forced through a clogged pipe. Loosen the hell up! “And dude. Put some bandaids on, yeah?” 

“Yeah, just give me a sec. Making sure I have everything before my ride gets here.” 

“Huh?” He got a ride? You’re here now so you can take him to the airport. “You sure you don’t need me to drive you?” 

“Yeah, it’s all good. I didn’t know you were coming back.” 

Shit. His body seems just as angular as it did last night. Which, quite frankly, could still be from what went down in the lot. 

Because even though you see both men banged up, you suddenly realize you don’t actually know what all transpired. 

After all, there wasn’t much talk of it after you walked into the tempest of Yoongi’s living room.

Of course, you aren’t gonna bring it up just this second. There are other things to ask about and make sure of first. “Wallet? Phone? Passport?” 

“Yup, yup, uhh.. Yup.” 

Zippers sling in the quiet morning air as you continue, “And you’re coming back on Friday, right?”

“Oh.. Nah.” When you start crossing the kitchen, your brother hauls his leather bag over his better shoulder. Honestly, no one would be able to tell the other one’s bruised with his suit on. That thing damn well covers everything except the cuts on his face and hands. “Saturday.” 

You pause in your journey to the medicine cabinet. “Wait.. Saturday? The release party’s on Friday.”

“Yeah.. I know.”

What the fuck? That’s bullshit they’re keeping him longer than they have to. Struggling to understand how corporate can keep your brother on a leash and get away with it, you urge, “Tell them to at least let you go home a day early. Don’t you wanna support your friends?”

“You mean Yoongi?”

A zing of terror zips through your eyes, freezing every vein in an instant. 

The fuck was that question? Never mind. Stay calm stay calm stay fucking calm. “Uhh, yeah, he’s one of them? But the other guys, too, right? I know you care about them and this is huge.”

Mercifully, your sibling just shakes his head and waves you off. “Don’t you think I already tried? I don’t wanna miss it but I don’t have a choice. Conference schedule is pretty tight and I’m heading the panel on Friday.”

“Is it in the morning? You can fly out after—”

“Why are you fighting so hard?”

“Why aren’t you fighting harder!”

Okay, what in the hell is happening right now? Screw optics and how this must look for you, your brother needs to be there. Him and Yoongi are the tightest of friends, the most ride or die duo you’ve ever seen. You can’t picture a timeline where he misses this monumental moment, and it’s starting to really upset you that he’s barely trying. 

“You think I’m not fighting for it?”

“I certainly don’t think you’re trying enough—”

“Alright, you know what?” Hard steps surge forward as you stand rigid, a duffle hastily dumped onto tile. “You don’t know what I’ve tried. You don’t even know if I even told him yet.”

Fucking shit. You hold his stare before turning away, tossing out the idea of bandages entirely and searing footsteps into the hallway—

“Or do you.”

Before icing over with the unforgiving frost of zero gravity space. 

Slow, you turn, not quite facing him but not backing down, either. “…Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You talkin’? What else has he been doing to you?”

Oh. Fuck that. 

Doing to you? 

Fuck all of this. This is too much to handle right now and you know you’re gonna snap if he keeps pushing because you are not having this conversation right before he leaves. You’ve already thought about this before, right? You cannot fuck with his head right before business trips because he needs to be on and locked in. 

But now he’s fucking with your temper and those are some choice fucking words pulled out of his ass. 

You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately threatened this man to his face and meant it before, and it tears a sharp corner of your heart, “You better be very careful. With whatever you wanna say next.”

The air proves too thick to slice. While your body stands aflame, your brother is iced over, brimming with an energy that damn near takes physical form. “All I’m saying is? I find out some fucking bullshit is going on—”

No no no, not now.

Reacting fast is your only instinct, brain haywire and fizzling fizzling boiling. Harsh, you spin on your heel and shout the first thing you can think of, “Oh, come on—”

“You better hope to god you’re ready for what’s coming—”

“Stop!” Fuck fuck fuck, this is so frustrating because your head is exploding and your body is screaming to just tell him already. Fuck the consequences at this point this is ludicrous. 

Doing to you? Yoongi? How dare he speak about his best friend like that how dare he accuse him without outright saying the words all you have to do is tell your brother how wrong he’s got it. 

But you can’t be the one. Yoongi said he would, and he probably took months to get to that point of strength—and healing, from what you can tell. 

This is between them. Them. You have to honor that, as much as you wanna just confess everything now and deal with it yourself. 

But goddamn your brother is pulsing with anger and it’s leaking into your own charged air. 

What does he think is happening? Does he think Yoongi’s just, what, playing you? He’s wrong. He’s so wrong. Yoongi’s been nothing but the best thing that’s ever happened to you and shit your heart hurts because…

Your brother is valid in thinking that. 

How foolish. Didn’t you guard your heart from Yoongi for the longest? Didn’t everything start because you figured you knew who he was because of his reputation? You got him all wrong, too. So how can you be mad at your brother for doing the same? 

Fuck, think. Just think before someone gets hurt. 

Because if you aren’t careful, someone—or multiple someones—will get hurt in seconds. You have to bear the pain alone right now. To protect them both, you have to keep your trembling mouth shut. 

And? You have to admit that something isn’t fair here. Not to you, not to Yoongi, but to him. Last night was rough as fuck but, while you both got to have raw, beautiful closure, the one standing in front of you had to go to sleep in an empty house. 

So chill the fuck out. 

Breathing to cool down, you tense and loosen, tense and loosen. “I get it. You’re angry, and you have a lot going on. But,” you bite down on your lip to keep going. “We’re talking about something else. We’re talking about you, and I’m still pissed you even let those guys goad you into a fight. What are we, twelve?”

Seething, your sibling takes the switch of pace. But it is not what you want to hear. “Are you seri—? What the hell was I supposed to do? That son of a bitch grabbed you—”

“I know,” you recoil. “Don’t tell me like you were there, because you weren’t.”

Finally—finally—those angry lines in his face vanish. 

But they make way for something much worse than anger. Because your older brother, someone that’s been there for you your whole life.. 

Looks absolutely stricken over the one time he wasn’t. 

Damn it. 

Regretful, you drop your shoulders in exhaustion and quiet compromise. When you continue, your voice is much softer, “But I told you: they were. Your friends, they were there because they knew you wanted that. Jimin got me away, Yoongi took me home and stayed.” 

You really have got to stop saying his name like you love him. It could start becoming too obvious. 

Shuddering, you shift your weight, folding your arms and shrinking into yourself. 

That night, despite Yoongi’s best and most gentle efforts, still clings to where that loser touched you at Dalo. You hate that you haven’t gotten over it, and you loathe the way you still rub over the same spot. Over, and over. “What did you want him to do? Leave me here?”

“No.” 

“Exactly. And he didn’t.” You adjust your stance again, making an impromptu gamble as you decide to let some truth leak out. Because your brother is owed at least this much. “And fine, you wanna know something? We do talk more because of it.”

Your brother’s head snaps up, and you brace. Because if you show any shred of weakness or hesitation, he’ll see right through your weak attempt to hide most of the truth, 

“But don’t ever accuse him of doing anything to me. That was fucked up to say and you know it.”

“Fuck.” In agreement, he rubs his hair back. “It was. I’m sorry.” 

“Trust me,” you swallow, hating that this is how things have to be for now. “You have nothing to worry about. He’s never.. Never done anything to me, anyway.” 

It’s not a lie. Everything he’s done has been with you. For you. Because of you. 

But your heart’s in anguish as it sinks. Because that expression on your older sibling’s face can only be one thing.  

Pure. Utter. Relief.

Fire singes your eyes before you can quell the flame. It’s the hardest technical truth to swallow. 

Sure, he doesn’t have anything to worry about as far as you being safe. And on top of that, he doesn’t have to worry about any fake shit because Yoongi confessed to you last night.

But as far as his best friend sleeping with and now dating his sister behind his back? That is still very much sitting right in the center of the table. 

And now you’re starting to see just how fucked all three of you are as soon as you sit down to eat the truth. 

But Yoongi said he’d be the one to tell, so he will. 

This feeling is so fucking miserable, though. 

In the end, your brother is effectively convinced, raking a hand across his head and sighing. “Jimin told me what all went down at Dalo, I just… Last night was… Fucked up.” 

“Well, yeah.”

“No. See, this is just like what you said to me. You can’t say it like you were there.”

It’s your stomach’s turn to twist. “So? You were scratched and bruised to hell, and Y…” Shut up, shut up. You’re not supposed to know about the state of anyone else. “And you were… quieter.”

“Because of what happened, dude.”

You blink. “What… What happened?”

Your brother looks at you—really looks at you. 

And suddenly, your gut flares in terror, storming in an instant across your abdomen. 

“That bitch pulled something on us.”

Your heart. 

It’s in freefall.

“Wait… What?” You can’t even form more than one syllable at a time, your legs turning gelatinous and knees starting to give out. “No… What are you…?”

What the fuck did he just say? That bitch pulled a what? 

Your sibling slowly walks toward you once again, watching like he’s just waiting for you to say anything. Do anything. 

But you’re a complete statue because all you can think about is the horror of something happening and the relief that nothing happened all at once. 

Was Yoongi too scared to mention that part? Is this why he was holding back and shaking every time he reached out to touch you? Even this morning, he was so… 

You’ve never seen him like that. Is this why? 

Your mind is swirling and crashing, overlapping each passing thought and scream running through your head. “I’m so sorry,” you hitch out, “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t wanna scare you,” he sighs out. Putting both hands on his hips, your brother stops feet away, visibly still shook as he pierces wooden planks with his stare. “But he pulled it right before Yoongi… and if it weren’t…Fuck.” 

Burns flare and slice through your eyes when he has to pause. What is he trying to say? Pulled what? 

Before Yoongi what? 

Your brother continues, and your throat tightens. “If it weren’t for some random ass sirens, I… Things could’ve been so different.” 

What the fuck is happening. What the hell are you hearing? 

“It was probably dumb as fuck. But I was so fucking angry,” he grits out, watery eyes crushed looking your way. “So fucking mad at how he was talking about you, I.. Walked right up to him and told him to fuck off.”

You can’t even breathe. 

“I still feel it,” he quietly adds, fingers pressed against his side. “Right here.” 

“Fuck,” you finally choke out, eyes on fucking fire. 

“But all I knew was to keep you all safe,” he says, with hardened resolve and a wobbly chin. “And that’s exactly what I did. I did that shit, even if that meant—” 

Tears fling out of your eyes, flowing hot down your cheeks because you wouldn’t want any of them to go out that way. Nothing happened nothing happened nothing happened and yet your body is acting as if something did and it hurts. 

Your brother is there as soon as you crumple forward, letting you bury your head in his chest and sob your heart out. For him, for his friends, and for all the time you had with the man you love so, so dearly. 

If anything happened to your brother before you came clean… If anything happened before you and Yoongi could even… 

Suddenly, you feel equal weights of guilt. For running out on your brother. And for almost walking out on Yoongi. 

You decide an apology is in order for both of them, and all the understanding in the world for Yoongi’s frosted demeanor as soon as you get him alone again.

And you are one hundred percent going to tell your brother everything once he’s back. 

The tears cannot stop, and you’re sure you are crying unimpeded in a pressed and primmed suit. “I’m so sorry,” you keep repenting like a prayer. “This is all my fault.”

“No—”

“You almost—”

“Hey, stop.” He yanks you back, both of your faces soaked with saltwater. “What did I say before? I threw the first swing. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But it led to all this, I just.. I just feel so fucking stupid.”

“Don’t. Hey, look at me.” Firm but gentle, he holds you at arm’s length, forcing you to face him. “Maybe we’re both stupid, but you weren’t the idiot. I was.” 

You feel so many conflicting things in your soul. 

What would you have done if Yoongi was in critical condition? What would you have done differently if your brother was instead? Are they the same? Are the two situations really so different anymore? 

No they aren’t they aren’t they aren’t. 

“Please don’t do that again,” you shake out. “Even if it was for me, if I ever lost you, I...” 

“You know I can’t promise anything.” He furrows his brows when you eye him with anger and sadness. “But nothing like that is happening again. Especially with the same dudes.” 

“Okay.” 

A vicious tornado of emotions sends your whole body into agonizing pain. This isn’t what you expected at all, and it’s causing your limbs to lock at the bends. Too many scenarios are jangling about yet you can’t ask for specifics because that will just make it even more real. 

A nightmare is somehow better once you know it ends with you waking up. “I’m… gonna need some time to process everything.”

“I know. And I wasn’t planning on saying anything, but… You deserve to know the things I get into.” 

Ah. 

The irony is not lost on you. 

“At least, if they involve you. We learned our lesson. You were right to tell us off.”

God. You feel numb. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, suddenly immensely tired. “I think I need more sleep.”

A blaring honk sounds outside the house, and you both flinch at the noise. 

And your throat burns at the way your brother instinctively swept you behind his back. 

When you realize what it is, you know what has to come next. 

And he’s the first to react as he turns to face you again, “Alright. I’m heading out, just remember to go get my baby when she’s fixed, yeah?”

“Do you have to go?”

Wait.

The question seems to startle him as much as it does you. 

How did you blurt it right out before even registering the words? Why does your heart clench at the sight of those eyes looking so pained? 

Why does everything feel so shaky within these walls that were always your home?

“I do,” he says, voice tight. “I’m sorry.” 

And why the fuck do you feel sad he’s leaving?

“No, no, it’s.. Of course you have to.” You can’t help the lump in your throat from bobbing, the regret in your limbs as they barely move at your side. “I dunno why I asked, I guess I just..” 

There’s no response to your sniffle. 

“Sorry for yelling,” you squeak out. “I just feel really queasy.”

For a lot more reasons than one.

“We all made it out,” your brother whispers. “That’s what matters.”

“Will you… Will you at least try to be back for the party?”

The man swallows with his brows knit tight, then attempts to crack the tiniest smile. “You know I will. That’s my guy.” 

“Okay.” You nod, sniffling again. After what he just told you? You know he’ll do anything for the ones he loves. “See you there.”

Your brother rubs a comforting palm over your head before turning, heading for the door and grabbing his leather duffle. 

When he stops to glance at you one more time, you give a little wave of your hand before watching the door click shut. 

Chest caving as you collapse to the ground in tears. 

—

—

The need to call Yoongi burns so harshly your fingers damn near set your top aflame.

But he’s at work, and you can’t fuck things up right when you’re approaching the finish line. You almost did with your brother, and that gave you twelve heart attacks in the span of minutes. 

Still. Your chest aches so much that a thirteenth could very well be approaching. You don’t even realize you’re bracing the hallway wall for support until you try to stand, back sore and aching from bending so far for so long. 

What did your brother mean to say about Yoongi? What did that coward pull on them? Do you even want to know what happened? 

Fighting back tears, you reach down for your phone, shakily typing out a message only to erase it. Then again. And again. 

And again. 

Giving up, you forcefully swallow all your worries, cringing at the bitterness of the unknown and the burnt molasses of hidden truths. 

It’s going to be okay. No matter what you think or imagine in your head, they made it out, they made it out, they are all alive. 

That’s the only reason you can move forward, each step getting you from your room. To your bathroom. 

And back again. 

—

—

After showering, you feel lighter and refreshed, though the soreness between your legs has yet to leave. 

But you wouldn’t want it any other way, as it’s another reminder of Yoongi’s apparent brush with survival. His broken living room spurned the creation of your bond, your devotion to him as he confessed before you gave him your utmost trust in his sheets. 

The end is so close. As soon as this week is over, you’ll rip the last bit of peel from your pair of tangerines, baring all truths to your brother and facing the consequences. 

Finally ready, you head to your car, opening your text threads with a plan: start slow. 

Start with something that can be interpreted neutrally if anyone saw it on his phone screen, especially if your headstrong ex is in the room. 

You [12:31pm]: how are you feeling?

Yoongi [12:34pm]: 1 Attachment 

You close your door with brows furrowed. 

Yoongi’s at the hospital? 

That’s not what you expected at all. 

Your chest swells with relief knowing he’s there, but you also wanna make sure he’s feeling okay. Especially his mental state after whatever the fuck your brother just dropped on you before leaving. 

Goddamn, that’s going to gnaw at your brain until you find the right time and right amount of courage to ask about it. Because it’s very possible Yoongi won’t tell you. 

Because it’s probably something he knows you won’t like. 

Fuck. 

You [12:34pm]: Loved an Attachment

You [12:34pm]: thank you for listening🤍 still sore?

Yoongi [12:35pm]: Yeah, but not bad. Just there.

Wait. He’s not at the studio. That means you can—

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you slowly say as you pull out into the street. “I’m driving now so this is easier.”

“Course. You going to Tae’s?”

“Maybe. I’m going to Yuri’s first.” You swallow, realizing that you didn’t tell him about what you let slip before driving over. “I.. Told her. About you.”

There’s a little bit of silence on the line, just some adjustments and muffled speaker sounds. “Sorry, just writing this down. What’s wrong with that?”

You huff through your nose. Gotta be those patient forms that always take forever to fill out. “Oh. Just more and more people knowing, is all.” 

“Everyone’s gonna know eventually.” 

You hold back a small smile. Because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m just tired of this feeling.”

“Like you’re hiding something.”

It’s your turn for silence. He doesn’t know how accurately that was played out today. The only answer you can provide is a curt, “Exactly.”

“Same.”

Wings beat around your heart again. 

He wants this. Yoongi really, really wants this. And years ago, that outcome wouldn’t have even crossed your mind as an option. 

“Thank you for going, baby.”

“The guys made me.”

You hum. “Which ones.”

After a pause, you hear a puff of amusement. “All of them at some point today, actually.” 

All of them? Does that include your brother? Did they talk about the trip already?

Your laugh is bittersweet. “Well. Glad to know you can be forced by everyone else except me.”

“Hey, I was already gonna go because of you!” Yoongi quietly retorts, and you giggle at the pout in his words. “Just wanted to get a headstart on work first.”

You were right. He really does wanna go all out for his musical endeavors. 

It’s extremely admirable, and wildly attractive, but it does come to a point. “As much as I love your passion, old man, I wanna keep you upright.”

He laughs soft into the line, and you think you can listen to that specific sound on an infinite loop. “That’s fair.” 

“How long is it gonna take, you think?”

“Dunno. But I’ll keep myself busy until I’m out.”

Of course he will. You don’t doubt he won’t waste any time. Didn’t he bring journals in his backpack? You wouldn’t be surprised if he wrote ten thousand songs before being called in. “Just call me if you need anything, please?”

“Of course, babe.”

“Thank you,” you say with utmost sincerity. “If only my brother would be less stubborn and get checked, too.”

“He’ll probably do it once he gets there.”

“Did you convince him?”

“Nah. But once he knows I did, he’ll do it.”

“Figures.” You scoff. “Okay, I’m almost there. Let me know how it goes.”

“K. Bye, doll.”

You didn’t ask him what went down. But it’s not the time nor place, and you have plenty of chances this week to figure out when that would be—if at all. 

“Talk soon.” 

—

—

For a normally bustling household, Yuri’s house is quiet. 

So it’s not shocking when you walk into the kitchen and see all your friends glance your way, slowly vacating their chairs with eyes never leaving your face. Even Reia is on high alert. 

Did Yuri tell her? Did Yuri tell anyone else? 

No. She’s a talker and loves spilling, but she promised. And when she promises something, you know you can trust her to keep it. 

It’s what pours emotion in your voice as you meekly greet, “Hey, guys—”

A crushing hug closes your throat. Yuri’s the one that gets to you first, with Reia and Dominique waiting their turns to offer you healing, relieved embraces. 

“What happened?” 

“Scared us half to death.”

Dom puts you at arm’s length to give a once over, noting your face rubbed raw and eyes still a little bloodshot. Thankfully, her pupils hold more concern than disappointment. “You good?”

Your eyes wobble alongside your smile, and you think it’s enough proof. “More than that,” you still decide to whisper, and your heart beats again at her reaction. 

“Thank god. I was ready to kick your ass if you weren’t.”

Heading up to Yuri’s room, you all wait until the door is swung back before mounting her canopy bed, sitting in a tight circle as you divulge everything. 

Well. Almost everything. 

You tell them that Yoongi is the one you’ve been seeing, how you went to check on him last night in a panic, and the terrifying reason why. When you mention the fight after the basketball game, all three of your friends erupt in questions, and you have to assure them everything turned out okay. Honestly, you also do this to assure yourself, too. 

“So… Your brother’s just fine with all of this?” Reia asks, not noticing the tick of Dom’s jaw. 

“Well,” you start with a higher pitch, earning a pair of groans. “He doesn’t exactly know yet—”

“Yup. He’s gonna murder him.”

“Yeah, should we say our condolences now or..”

“How long has this been going on?” Reia fires off another question that digs into your chest. “Was he the one you were seeing the whole time?”

“Yes,” you admit with a sigh. “I should’ve told you guys from the beginning, but. The whole thing just felt so delicate. But! We just started making things official recently, so..” 

Dom turns your way. “Official how?”

Well. Here goes everything. 

With a shaky breath, and lingering feelings from the time it happened, you reveal with watery eyes, “Yoongi… Told me he loves me.”

Both Yuri and Reia react in yelps, Dom’s gaze lowering as the girls reach to grab your hands. 

Wait. What’s going on with her? She’s the one that knows the most, she’s the one that covered for you all those months ago. She has to be the one that is the least surprised at all this. 

Blinking, you note to confront her about it later. Right now, you’re too focused on trying not to cry as your friends tumble out questions and support, 

“He said it? Did you say it first or did he?” 

“How did it happen! Oh, I’m so happy for you, babe—” 

“Thank—thank you, Yuri,” you squeeze out as she hugs you close. “I couldn’t believe it, but he just.. Said it. We weren’t even doing anything, I was just.. Looking up what injuries he could have..” 

And he confessed in the most Yoongi fashion he could have. 

Looking back, it shouldn’t shock you at all. He’s always found ways to sweep you off your proverbial feet, so why would a confession plucked from the heavens be any different? 

She lets you go before wiping her eyes, Reia and even Dom now sporting watery pupils, too. 

“As much as I’m upset at you for not telling us, I’ve never been so happy for you.” When Yuri’s features crease in another sob, you sniffle along with the rest. “It’s been so long since you… And you really.. Fuck.” 

You know what she’s trying to say, and the realization has your throat constricting so tight. 

It’s been forever since you’ve had something like this, someone like this. When you and Jungkook were together, you told him that you loved him before he broke it off. 

Sure, you bought the rings together, but he never uttered those words until years after when it didn’t even matter. And all your relationships after his were complete and utter bullshit, so you don’t think you ever even heard those three words and knew them to be true. 

Yoongi was the first to ever say them so sincerely. 

And that fact makes your ducts burn and burn. 

And when Yuri finally speaks, it breaks the dam holding your real deluge back, 

“I can’t think of anyone else that deserves to be loved more than you.” 

All at once, everything streams out as you hunch forward. The pain of everything you’ve endured, the hopelessness of knowing you’d most likely end up alone, the excruciating prospect of a future that you never deemed bright, or peaceful, or comforting. 

And to think that even this man could’ve been snatched away from you in a snap? Even more tears overlap with the ones you’re shedding, and you can’t even reach out to hug all three beautiful, angelic souls surrounding you with tight arms and sobs because your limbs lock at all bends. 

It’s the exact release you need. All your friends supporting you, all the pent up anxiety of last night and today, the truth setting itself free in some capacity—all in the comfort of a plushie-laden bed you only doubted yourself in last time. 

Everything’s gonna be alright. It has to be. You’re gonna fight for the ones you love, even if a war between them is inevitable. 

It takes a few minutes of heavy silence for you all to separate, swiping and rubbing tears while letting out happy sniffles. 

When you thank them for being understanding, they assure you it’s okay. And when you say you’re going to tell your brother soon, a force from the doorway has all of you leaping from lilac sheets, 

“Tell him what?” 

Jia stands firm with a laundry basket at her hip, and Yuri scoffs at her older sister for barging in. “A knock would’ve been nice!” 

Fuck! 

You can’t tell Jia of all people. If you spill anything about Yoongi, she’s one hundred percent going to tell your brother. They’re the same age, and run in pretty tight circles, so of course you are not going to risk it. 

But you can tell her something else you’re going to tell your older sibling, so you fire out a half-truth, 

“Tell him not to pick any other fights that could get him killed.” 

Jia’s eyes zoom to your wrecked face, and she drops the laundry with haste before asking, “What happened? When? Tell me now.” 

Huh. Maybe your brother has a type, if he’s still into Jia like he said before. 

You feel a little spark in your chest as you let her know they all got in a scuffle after the basketball game, and another pang as she immediately abandons the room and clothes with a fierce declaration, 

“I’m gonna kill them myself!” 

“Don’t worry, I already hounded my brother!” You call out after her, sighing as Yuri shakes her head with a smile. “She gets like that when she’s really worried, huh.” 

“Yeah..” Your friend leans to look around you, noticing the basket left alone on the ground. “And if she’s super fired up, she drops everything and doesn’t stop until it’s handled. Clearly.” 

Maybe both older siblings really are similar. 

The firestorm of an interruption seemed to break the tension in the room, with all of you finally relaxing and catching up. When they ask you questions, you answer what you can. 

And when you divulge information that has your ears burning, their squeals and yells give you whole new reasons to live. 

—

—

After a very comforting lunch Yuri’s mom cooked, you head to the bathroom when your phone suddenly vibrates through your palm.

Huh? That’s weird. You expect the name on your screen to be Taehyung, not Yoongi. 

Not that it’s a bad thing. You’ve been waiting to hear from him, so this is a pleasant surprise. 

Closing the door to the guest bathroom, you gaze at the calming sage decor with a smile. “Hi, how did it—”

“You’re coming over later, right?”

Oh, shit. Is he okay?

“Yes, baby,” you respond with a soothing lilt, ears perked and body on high alert. 

Does he think you aren’t anymore? You both decided on the plans earlier. Surely he knows you’d never just flake on him. “I’m coming back once you’re done with work, remember?”

There’s an uncomfortable pause on the line, which makes your boyfriend’s next question jab you so far in the lungs you can’t breathe,

“…Can it be now?”

Shit. 

Just like Jia earlier, you drop every plan you have to the wayside. You’re sure that Taehyung will understand, and you already got through the biggest conversation you needed to with your friends. 

“Of course,” you whoosh out. “Lemme just say bye and I’ll go.” 

“Take your time.” A small shuffling interrupts. “It’ll take me a bit to get back.” 

“Okay. See you there.” 

The strained urgency in his voice makes your hair stand on end, so you vacate the bathroom to inform the girls that you gotta go—but not without a quick head tilt towards Dom, who follows you outside and into the afternoon sun.  

—

—

You wait until you’re next to your car on the street, turning with a concerned expression and jittery nerves, “What’s up with you? Did I do something wrong?”

Turns out, you read Dominique correctly. Her jaw locks before loosening, and it reminds you of the time she confronted you about Yoongi before. God, how much has changed since then. That feels like ages and ages ago. 

“It’s not about you,” your best friend clears the air and the tightness in your shoulders. “I’m just.. Glad he came around.”

“Yoongi?” When Dom nods, you blink. “Wait, what?”

“At your house that night.. After he left your room, we had—I dunno, a heart-to-heart.” She sighs, flicking braids over her shoulder. You note to compliment the beads she chose this time, because they remind you of summer and simpler times. “I might’ve pressured him a bit, and.. I think he wanted to tell me that he loved you. All the way back then.” 

Something in your heart stutters, and you can only repeat your last question, “What?”

“Yeah. Something about needing to do something first,” she continues, holding your gaze with perfect brows furrowed in sunlight. “But I could tell he was damn serious about whatever it was. And if he was willing to do it for you? I let it go.” 

Your mind whirls. 

Yoongi was already in love with you back then? Is that why he needed to let you go? To deal with whatever he had to do? 

One side of you breaks thinking he had to go through all that alone; the other side is screaming at his past self for not even giving you a choice. What did he go through? What did he have to do?

Now you really have to see him. Immediately. 

“Thank you, Dom,” you rush out while opening your door. “I’m just happy it’s over.”

“The hell it’s not.” Shooting you a glare that heats the oncoming breeze, she reminds, “It’s not over until your brother knows. And based on everything that’s happened? That conversation is not gonna go over well.” 

A dark, simmering boil starts in your stomach, and you’re already feeling queasy again. Tightening your door handle, you gulp hard. “I know.” 

“Trust me, I’m happy for you both. I am.” Both hands find her hips as she levels a gaze that you really, really don’t enjoy. “But I’m gonna be honest, I think this is gonna ruin their friendship for good.” 

Both of your lungs clamp shut. 

“Please don’t say that,” you beg, “I’m gonna fight for all of us. I will.” 

“I don’t doubt that, babe. Hey, uh uh, come here.” Reaching out, she gives you a tight hug just when you feel fragile again. 

“Listen to me. I don’t doubt that,” she says into your shoulder. “I’m just here to be realistic. Just don’t be shocked if that’s how it goes. We’ll be here for you no matter what, too.” 

“Okay,” you say with a scrunched face into her scent. God, she always smells so good, and it’s almost enough to calm you down. Almost almost almost. “Thank you. But I’m not giving up.” 

“That’s my girl.” She squeezes you one more time. “I love you.” 

With eyes searing over, you choke and grip her tighter. “I love you, too.” 

—

—

Yoongi’s door warms your back as you wait for him to show. 

But there’s a good chance it can just be your volcanic anxiety. 

Ever since your arrival, you’ve paced, you’ve gnawed on your lips, you’ve had to shake the nerves out of your hands. 

And over and over, you’ve strained your neck to look for your favorite cat, because you could sincerely use even a glimpse of her right now. 

While she doesn’t end up showing, Yoongi rounds the nearest corner minutes after your last desperate scan. 

Fuck, he’s so handsome. 

Even now, as he simply walks toward you with a backpack slung over his shoulder, you watch with undying yearning to feel those flowing bangs over his forehead. You’d even settle for a single touch of his cheeks, one of them currently sporting a thin bandage.

But the closer Yoongi gets, the quicker your admiration morphs into concern. There’s a deep bend in his brows that you can’t decipher, and his fist is balled pretty tight. 

Seriously, what happened? He looks so troubled that you slowly push off the doorway to ask, 

“Baby, what’s—”

A bag hits the ground before you’re swooped into a kiss so electric your lips spark. 

Him. Him, him, and more him. For the love of everything you don’t understand what’s happening but you kiss Yoongi back with everything you have, arms slinging around his strong shoulders and tugging him closer because he clearly needed this. 

And fuck if you didn’t need it just as much. Screw it if anyone sees you. This is all you want and you’ll stay right here until he pulls away. 

When he finally does, both of you swallow to catch your breaths, and your soul glimmers when his forehead meets yours. 

“Hi, baby,” you whisper to his exhales. “Missed you, too.”

Silent, your lover kisses your forehead before hugging you close, and you’re more sure of your prediction than ever. Something is bothering him. 

He doesn’t look worse, at least. But there’s clearly something off and he’s not hiding it. His lack of words is loud enough. 

“Let’s go inside,” you quietly suggest. “I would’ve gone in already but I don’t have a key.”

He nods, fishing out his keyring to let you both inside. 

When you set your bags down and slip off your shoes, it’s only seconds before you’re softly pulled into a hug again, surprising yet so, so welcoming. 

Even only after a few hours, you’ve missed the fuck out of him. Which makes all of this an outright dream. 

“Sorry,” Yoongi finally murmurs against your shoulder. “I just…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You stroke a hand along his hair, massaging his scalp and loving how soft it feels. The windswept strands fall back into place as you keep running your fingers through. “Did you at least get your appointment?”

“Yeah, I did.” He buries his face further. “Nothing bad. Just can’t lift anything heavy for a couple days.”

“Good. That’s easy to manage,” you whisper back into his tee, feeling the chill of lingering air conditioning and body warmth all at once. “Is something else bothering you?”

“Not exactly.” Whatever that means. “I’ll tell you about it later. Just wanted this, and you.”

Oh. That’s… 

“I’m here now, love,” you assure with a melting heart, wondering what happened to cause this behavior. 

Is it because of last night? Or something that happened today? You’re anxious all over again, but from the way Yoongi’s acting, your worries are second to his. “Have you eaten yet?”

He shakes his head, only pulling you closer with not a word from his lips. 

And from this point on, you make a silent vow to yourself. Whatever Yoongi needs, you’re going to take care of him. 

No matter what, these next few days are all about him—a minuscule sacrifice in comparison to everything he’s done for you, whether you knew about it or not.

“I’ll make you something then. Come on.” 

When you walk, you slip your hand down his arm to hold his hand, and your lead into his kitchen is short. 

“Any requests?” You cheerfully ask as you spare a smile over your shoulder. “We can do… Something light…”

Only to see him staring back with nothing but a lingering sense of longing.

Okay. 

You need to get to the bottom of this now. 

Stopping right over linoleum, you leave no room for arguments, “Yoongi. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He blinks before his gaze meets the floor. So you’re confused when he simply, quietly.. 

Laughs? 

“It’s not that something’s wrong,” he slowly starts, a shy smile carving his features. “For the first time in my life, nothing’s wrong.” 

Your heart beats extra loud. 

“But it’s too much to explain right now.” His eyes rise to meet yours. “Just know that I’m so in love with you.” 

Oh.

“And I want you to know that every day I live.”

Fuck.

Your body responds before you can say anything, lips connecting to remove any need for speech. The knowledge of them all staring death in the face last night makes this confession sear your insides, and you can’t help but kiss him like you’ll never get to again. 

Yanking him back, you spin on your heel until he flings into the kitchen, clutching your wrists before gripping your jaw with both hands. 

His mouth heats on yours, his glasses the only barrier between your skin. Everything sizzles from your head to your toes, and you both bang into a countertop before—

“Fuck, ouch.”

“Shit, you okay?”

Yoongi rubs his side with one eye pinched shut, a corner of his teeth present. “Yeah. Worth it, though.”

“Be serious,” you reprimand. Looks like he’s gonna have to take it easy, which means no going at it like animals until he’s on the mend. “No more until you feel better, yeah?”

“Says who?”

“Babe.”

His deadly pout almost breaks your resolve. “Fine.” 

But you can wait. You’re sure it won’t take long, and for this man? You’ll wait however long you need to. 

Besides, there’s plenty of things you can do in the meantime that don’t require running into hard objects. 

“Good. Now let’s…” You turn away to get started before you’re held, and pulled back into yet another embrace. 

What the hell is happening today? Your lungs and your melting pile of a brain can only take so much. It’s beautifully overwhelming how Yoongi can’t seem to let you go, because you’re the one that always loses control. 

This whole time, it’s been you that can’t hold yourself back. 

So now? Being on the other side? You don’t think you ever want him to restrain himself again. 

This time, he moves slow. Sensuously slow, and it would occur to you that he’s finding a very cheeky loophole to your plan if you weren’t so hazy-eyed. 

Whatever Yoongi’s doing, you won’t stop him. 

Your back touches a counter before Yoongi cages you in, and your lips mold together as perfectly as his body does with yours. Your unhurried strokes match his, and your minds communicate without a single word. 

There’s yearning still ever present. But there’s comfort in abundance, and a whole new level of need. 

After he pulls away, you can visibly see him drink you in from head to toe. 

“You know.. I’m good holding off on all the other shit.” Pulling you in, his lips curve as he confidently declares, “But I’m never gonna stop kissing you.” 

His hands, his lips, his words. They all have healing powers, you’re so sure of it. If Yoongi hasn’t yet realized his unending pain has blossomed into a safe haven, you need to let him know no matter what, 

“Good.”

There’s still a pining in his eyes, but he lets you free, hand skirting your hip before he walks to his room. “Gonna change then I’ll help.” 

“You don’t have to, baby,” you say as you struggle to catch your breath. “I got it.” 

Three minutes later, he’s chopping an onion anyway. 

But you’re loving how serene everything feels with the two of you prepping and dicing, thumps of knives on wood intertwining in sound before you laugh at his crying over the pesky vegetable. Maybe if he wore contacts instead of specs, he’d be better off. 

Not that his choice of eyewear is what you’re complaining about. But those glasses paired with the cream tees he’s been wearing? There will be hell to pay as soon as you get a chance at revenge. 

Your pot is set to boil for a bit, so you finally rest against the counter and start a timer on his microwave. “Go ahead,” you gesture to your very handsome cooking partner. “You can sit now.”

“Huh? We’re not done yet.”

“Oh.” Blinking, you tilt your head in confusion because you could’ve sworn you heard him yawn a couple times. “You aren’t tired?”

“I am,” he says before squeezing his eyes, rapid blinks to follow. “But I’m fine here.”

You toss and turn the food around, sprinkling a little more seasoning and hearing the bubbles and fizzes. When you stir a little more, a sudden thought occurs, halting your movements and spinning you around, 

“Are you staying there to watch my ass.”

Yoongi’s slow smile gives everything away, but he also makes up for the blatant staring. 

“Can’t deny that’s one of the things.” Pushing off the sink, he stands right next to you, slotting a hand behind your neck and angling you for a kiss. “But I meant it earlier. I just…”

You’re completely silent as you watch him slide his eyes from your face to the sizzling food. Whatever he’s thinking about, you’re gonna give him all the room to talk. 

“Just like being where you are.” 

How you went from almost running out of his door to here, you aren’t quite sure. But you’re grateful for that split second of him deciding to fight for the two of you instead of against, because you really were going to leave. 

And you may have taken much, much longer to even try going back. 

Your voice is barely heard over the aromatic smell and fizzle, “Good thing I like having you around.” When he smiles again, you let out a breath of a giggle, going back to shuffling the pan around and tilting your head to the fridge. “I put some fruit in there if you wanna eat that, too.”

“I’m down.”

“K.”

Your food is ready soon enough, and the two of you eat while talking about easy topics. Like work and your workplace dynamics, what Yoongi’s team has been working on at the studio. 

At one point, your curiosity about the album release party grows from something he says. “Speaking of. The party’s on Friday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I thought so,” you deflate, setting your bowl down on the table. “Sorry he can’t go.”

“Huh?”

Your body stills. “Wait. Did he not say anything? About his trip being extended?”

So much for nothing in his life being wrong. From the lost look on his face, you may have given him another reason to fold back in on himself. “No.. No, he didn’t.”

Both of you sit in silence. 

This could be nothing. Right? That means your brother is confident he can make it so there’s no point in telling Yoongi he’s gonna miss it. Or maybe he’s not trying hard enough and then not being able to say it to his face? 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I thought he told you.”

“It’s okay.” Clearly it’s not. “Not much to do about it now.”

“Yoongi… What if he knows?” At your own question, you stiffen, curling into a proverbial ball. Fear and the sick backfire of fibbing has your mouth going drier than desert air. “What if he actually knows?”

Setting down his chopsticks, Yoongi looks your way, eyes unreadable behind his specs. “If he did, do you think he’d leave us alone?”

He’s got a point. “Guess not.” 

“Mm.” Flicking his eyes to the window, he adjusts uncomfortably in his chair. “And I dunno if I mentioned this, but.. He thinks I got back with my ex.”

“Fuck, really?” 

“That’s the real reason why he hasn’t been talking to me. Maybe he thinks she’s gonna be there on Friday.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders sag, and sag. Not owning up to your relationship is one thing; Yoongi having to dwell in his previous relationship is another. “Is that… worse?”

“Kinda.” Yoongi’s eyes fall. “Much worse.”

“Shit.” Reaching across wood, you close your hand around his fingers for support. It’s the only thing you can think to do. At least, it’s what you would want if you were in his shoes. “I think you should tell him she won’t be.”

A million seconds later, Yoongi thankfully agrees. “Yeah, I will.”

You feel better. Somewhat. At least a little less nauseous about the possibility of your brother knowing. 

But it still sucks knowing that he’s actively avoiding Yoongi because of an ex he used to have. 

How bad was it back then if this is the case? What exactly happened? Is this why Yoongi went radio silent on you for weeks?

It seems like he doesn’t even wanna talk about her. So you won’t pry just yet, as much as you wanna know every single thing she’s done wrong so you can hound her through every timeline in existence. 

Instead, you talk about a much better subject, 

“We should feed my cat now.”

And you quickly laugh at the saucy glint in Yoongi’s eyes. 

—

—

Everything is set where it needs to be. Sugar’s food and water fill their respective bowls, your shoulder leans into Yoongi’s good side, and his arm rests around your back as he’s propped up by his banged up doorway. 

You remember the first time you saw him lean against the wood like this. Only that time, you were a shell of a girl, waiting with shaky breaths and shaken confidence to hear his response to your inappropriate request. 

Who would’ve thought that you’d be on the same side as him all these months later? In his arms, resting a head on his warm chest? 

When you let out a short chuckle, Yoongi turns to your smile. “Hmm?” 

“Nothing,” you wisp out. “Just thinking about us.” 

His fingers press into your side a fraction more, and you can feel him lift his head again. “Me, too.” 

Umm. 

You can say things like that. He isn’t allowed! 

You’re about to set some one-sided rules before your gift pops out of the bushes a few feet away. 

“My baby!” you quietly call, leaving Yoongi’s side to crouch down. “Come here, love. You hungry?”

She cautiously makes her way over, sniffing your hand when you leave it outstretched. After careful consideration, the little one nudges your palm, letting you glide fingers down her back as she approaches her bowls. 

“You’re so tiny,” you observe with slight pity. “We’ll get you well fed in no time—”

“Hey, Sugar! Oh, is this her? She’s gorgeous, no wonder!”

Huh? Sugar? 

Who else knows the cat’s name already?

Your neck almost strains when you look up to see who’s talking. When you notice an older lady donning a really comfy, fluffy robe, you feel like it looks super familiar before you stand. 

“Hi,” you greet before introducing yourself, extending your hand and shaking the woman’s soft, delicate fingers. “Sorry if we were too loud.”

“Call me Miss Dion. And you weren’t too loud this time, sweetie,” she says with a wink, glancing down at the kitty eating what you laid out. “Was just comin’ out to water my plants so it’s good to see you’re here, too. Looks like he finally got some sense back in that head of his.”

“I’m standing right here, you know.”

“Oh, I know!”

Back? How long has she known about you? Do her and Yoongi actually converse regularly? Their banter is… Really adorable. 

It’s making you fall even more in love with the man biting his cheek in amusement. 

Wait. 

Is Yoongi Sugar? 

That is so fucking cute you could cry. 

“I’m back to take care of this guy,” you explain with a head tilt. “And the little one, of course.” 

It’s when you say this that Miss Dion notices the bandages on Yoongi’s face, concern pushing down her brows. “What happened to you, young man?”

“Nothing to worry about.” 

“You sure? I got some ointment in my kitchen somewhere—”

“It’s all good—”

“We’ll take it,” you cut him off, not looking but feeling his stare on your face. “How much do we owe you?” 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that.” With a snuff at Yoongi and a smile your way, Miss Dion heads inside to fetch a bottle.

In the meantime, you give your lover a quiet stare before bending down to run your hands over soft fur. 

“Papa Sugar is gonna need that so he can’t argue,” you coo to your cat, cheekily ignoring Yoongi’s sputtering puff of air above your head.

“Papa Sugar? Really?”

You glance up to his smile with a mischievous one of your own. “What, you wanna be Sugar Daddy instead?”

The swirl in your belly is instant. Because Yoongi can only look out into the distance, biting his lip and failing to hide his grin.

Sigh. If only he didn’t have those injuries across his face. You’d push him back into the door and slam it shut if it was any other day. 

Patience, patience, patience. 

Those hits aren’t gonna heal with just one round of gauze. 

When you have to replace the cotton patches, at least you’ll have something to help. 

—

—

It’s not until you’re about to tuck in for the night that Yoongi approaches your side of the bed. Judging by the headphones slung around his neck, he’s about to work, so you assume he’s just coming to give you a kiss goodnight. 

But after he does exactly that, he asks you a question that warms your chest, 

“Where’s your keys.” 

“In there,” you motion to the nearest wall, bag propped right under his windowsill. “Inside pocket, I think.” 

Yoongi bends with a prolonged grunt, slowly rummaging until he finds your jangling keyring with its charms. When he grabs it, he silently sits on the edge up against your stomach, body heat permeating your tee while he fiddles with the clasps. 

God, you’re so in trouble. You know exactly what he’s doing. 

Unlike the last time he offered you complete access to his place, this time he didn’t even hesitate. And the way he secures a key amongst the loop, it’s his silent way of cementing permanence. 

That’s not another key for you to borrow.

Because that key is yours.

—

—

continued in angel, pt. 2

pitstop inbox before pt2!! | join the server!

a/n: holy crap we're doing it we are actually back in the main storyline?! how do we feel right now because i am over the damn moon diving into this story again. here's a slight pitstop before you make your way over to part two (THE CONTINUATION IS IN A REBLOG!) so take a breather before heading into the resttttttt ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

a/n 2: we did this for 3tanfugue and the energy was great! just like last time, some of you guys suggested that we have post goals to encourage interaction. no one voted against it yet, so we'll keep it goin!

explicit warnings: cursing, thigh riding, cowgirl, oral (m rec), naughty studio time(??), couch sex, rough sex, giving yoongi the business, bold as fuck reader, choking, spanking, penetrative sex, kissing deserves to be here too lol, alexa play no hands by waka flocka, deep throating, hair/head tugging, nipple play, yoongi in that gd tank, yoongi in those gd glasses, teasing, titty fucking hello!!!!, stripping while he watches…. yeah, missionary, sub!3tanyoongi?????, scratching, multiple orgasms, protected sex, emotional sex, the glasses stay on??, good god they’re so hot i’m blushing

—

—

For the next few days, you’re at Yoongi’s every moment you’re free. Other than work that you have diligently not taken off, the two of you have alone time most of the week. 

And it’s more than perfect. 

You cook meals, talk about anything that doesn’t involve recent incidents, and Yoongi even lets you watch as he creates stunning instrumentals at his bedroom desk. There seems to be three projects that he’s cycling through, and one of them sounds achingly beautiful even though it’s just a series of hums. 

As far as physical work, you do anything that requires heavy lifting—even hauling groceries inside. 

Despite Yoongi’s many groans of protest, you tell him it’s no big deal at all. You want to help as much as you can, if merely to make up for all that time you could’ve helped him for three months. 

It’s right after your solo grocery run that he follows you into his kitchen with his thousandth resigned sigh, 

“Babe, you really don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to, baby,” you whisper, setting everything down. When you start unloading, Yoongi stops your arms, soothing the divots left by many grocery bags. “But I want to. So let me? Please?”

You get why he’s not exactly okay with the situation. If you had to depend on him for everything, it would make you upset, too. 

But you want to show him you’re here for him no matter what. If that bothers him, he’ll just have to keep dealing with it. 

Yoongi rests his forehead against yours. “You’re too good for me.”

“And you’re too handsome for me.” Flicking his chest, you pretend to be so very disappointed as you start taking out cans and produce. “Who said you could walk around here wearing that?”

That stupid tank hugs every bit of him just right. You’re half jealous of the way it fits on him, and half in constant need to rip it off every waking second. 

Even the way you reacted when he first stepped out with it caused an immediate burst of cheek-raised laughter, and you proceeded to glare at his grin every time he got close. 

Which is probably, frustratingly, exactly why he keeps wearing them. 

“It’s just a tank!” Yoongi exclaims, laughing when you scoff into the fridge. “What’s with you and these?”

“Don’t even,” you huff. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

One wink is enough to destroy you. So you keep putting groceries away to avoid more of them. 

Fruits go here, veggies in the fridge, cat food in this cabinet, frozen treats in the freezer… Come to think of it, you could do some naughty teasing with those later—

A veiny hand cuts your thoughts, caging you against counters with an ask, “And what am I doing, doll?”

Rhetorical question once again. 

This whole week, while neither of you have instigated anything related to sex, Yoongi has tested you multiple times. Whether it be devouring the sight of you in his tees, or kissing along your shoulders after you emerged freshly showered, he has been driving you to the edge every time. 

This unashamed, barely restrained side of him is completely new to you, and you’d like to think you’re doing a damn good job of keeping yourself in check. 

Because you’ve been wanting to tear him apart until he’s a blithering, writhing mess. 

At first, you assumed it’s because of how he’s been looking lately. The shroud that’s been haunting his eyes is completely absent, giving a beautiful shine and a whole new level of attraction. 

But as the week has gone by, you’ve realized that it’s something deeper. 

It’s the fact that Yoongi’s gone beyond keeping you safe and protecting you, gone way further than just being there for you when you need him. 

And he’s doing all this while not compromising his dreams. He’s working hard for what he wants, and encouraging you to do the same with a gentle push only he can provide. 

Essentially, Yoongi’s everything you didn’t even know you needed. 

And this simple fact is the sole reason you want to take care of him in every single way, including some that will perpetually make you shy when you remember them. 

But until he fully tells you he’s ready—which he hasn’t yet—you aren’t giving in. This agonizing monster is being kept at bay with the thinnest string. The tiniest gate. The most miniscule knot. 

However. 

Your vow to hold yourself back physically doesn’t mean keeping your thoughts to yourself. So you set them free as your eyelids lower, 

“Making it really, really hard to leave you alone.”

Chains swing against your chest, conspiring with this demon to make you fold when he annoyingly purrs, 

“Good.” 

Fuck. Yoongi’s already attractive when he’s not doing anything. So when he does shit like this? When he’s practically begging for you to give in? It takes all of your inner strength to not buckle at the knees. 

“Not good,” you parry, breath short and heart rate spiking. “We said to wait until you were ready.”

Goddamn. Your fingers itch to grab at his waist, your core storms with incessant need to ride that beautiful chest. 

Mercifully, Yoongi grants you reprieve with a simple hum, sliding his hand off and sauntering away. “Playing hard to break, huh? Not bad.”

Not bad? Your pulse is through the goddamn roof! 

“Of course,” you scoff, “I’m not losing to you.” 

Laughs pop from around the corner, his absence allowing you to catch your breath and straighten your wobbly legs. “We’ll see about that, baby girl.” 

Safe. You didn’t crack and didn’t give much away.

Despite the heated moment ending too soon, your smile stretches incredibly wide. 

Yoongi has no idea what he’ll unleash as soon as he’s healed and ready. 

You’ll both see about that indeed.

—

—

On Tuesday, your brother’s car is ready, so you head to the dealership in Yoongi’s car and drive back separately to the house. 

Once there, Yoongi heads into the house before you video call and show your brother every single detail. 

Every. Single. Detail. 

“Ugh, she practically looks brand new! Do you really need me to open the passenger door again?” 

“Yes! We have to be thorough or I’m getting my money back.” 

“God, you’re so cheap,” you huff, leaning into the vehicle and showing him every leather bound surface. 

Seriously, they did a really good job. They even cleaned where your brother had all his tiny figures and polaroids and that was always a problem spot. Where did those even go, anyway? “Happy?” 

“Maybe. But looks good so far, I’ll look over her again when I’m back.” 

Of course. He’s gonna find literally any excuse to say they need to fix more. With his track record, he’ll probably even get a whole new engine from his smooth talk and persistence. “Which will be in two days, right? Friday? On time?” 

To your absolute delight, he doesn’t hesitate, sounding even more sure when he responds, “Yeah, I think I can.” When you cheer, your camera shakes like hell as his eye roll stays completely still. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

Yoongi must have cleared the air surrounding his ex. With a joyful goodbye, you hang up and head right inside to tell him the news. 

Turns out, you weren’t the only one holding massive amounts of tension because of this setback. There’s a noticeable change in Yoongi’s eyes, and your heart bleeds knowing his friend’s potential absence had been weighing on him.

He’s the bravest for choosing to have the final conversation with him alone. 

There still seems like something is bothering him, though. 

And you still don’t know how to ask. 

—

—

At least with Taehyung, you can let loose and say whatever you want. 

That fact is what allows you to breathe as soon as you pull up to Jimin’s house the next day, scanning the familiar cul-de-sac as you park in his driveway. Forever has passed since you were last here, and you can’t even remember paying a visit during the daytime. 

But Tae told you to meet him here, so you’re here. 

Food has been laid out across the living room coffee table, but none of it is touched. All you’ve been able to do is take residence on the leather couch, watching as Taehyung gnaws on a fingernail. 

“Stop that.”

“Talk to me then.”

So you do. 

There’s no hiding with him like you had to with your friends. Thorough, you give him the entire rundown of that stormy night without omission.

Throughout the entire time you talk, your best friend is laser focused. He doesn’t say a single word, and he doesn’t move one fucking muscle as you recount what happened, from the moment you fought with your brother to the excruciating minutes of screaming at Yoongi’s door. 

But something you say makes you both flinch. 

Because as soon as you mention the broken guitar pieces around his living room, a question zips through the open space, 

“What did you just say?” 

Your head whips around to see Jimin frozen in the hallway. “Yeah, he, umm. It’s completely gone now, so.. I’m gonna see if I can find him a new one.” 

That second part is something you haven’t even told Yoongi yet. It just felt right to admit to the two of them, and you watch as Jimin slowly walks toward you with eyes wide. 

Is he okay? Fuck, were you not supposed to say that after all? “Or I can get him something else—”

Toned arms embrace you tight, and you’re flung into confusion as your eyes stare at the ceiling. 

“Thank you,” you hear against your head, so soft you may as well have thought it. It’s the kind of gratitude that’s borderline uncomfortable to receive, solely because you feel like you don’t deserve something so full of meaning. 

You didn’t do anything except clean up the pieces. 

The way Jimin’s thanking you? It’s like you saved Yoongi’s life. 

And that’s too much to dwell on right now. 

“It’s okay, really,” you respond, timidly reciprocating his hug because you’re still so very puzzled. “Is there something I should know?” 

“It’s not my place to say. But everything’s gonna be fine.” 

“Okay.” That answer is cryptic as hell. “I just feel bad for throwing it all out. Maybe we could’ve gotten it repaired—”

“No.” Jimin looks you dead in the eyes before putting hands on your head. Then, shocking you to the core, he kisses your forehead before resting there. “If he has you? He’ll be fine.” 

“I guess.” Your mood turns melancholic as he slowly steps away. “He’s still pretty bruised from that night. And some of the cuts are deeper than I thought.” 

In more ways than one now, you sadly think to yourself. There’s even more things to think about surrounding that guitar. Does it have anything to do with his—

“Yoongi faired better than some of us. Rohan had to get stitches and some of the other guys needed crutches.”

Damn. You don’t doubt that. There’s no way you can completely block out the memories you have of that night. Your brother telling Taehyung to get you out of there. The way they were severely outnumbered. Yoongi refusing to look back at you, and you painfully knowing exactly why. 

“I heard about what he did,” you mournfully hitch out. “That guy.”

Jimin stills before Tae looks over at him, eyes wide and unblinking. “What did he do?”

Fuck. Does Taehyung not know about that chilling detail? Shit shit shit, you still don’t know everything yourself, so you can’t even really tell. 

Is Jimin about to reveal what your brother and Yoongi left out? 

Your wide eyes meet his before you stumble through an answer, “He, uhh.. Umm, he..”

“I’ll tell you later,” Jimin calmly breathes, to which Taehyung shifts his jaw out of quiet anger. “The bottom line is that we all made it out.”

Oh, fuck. 

Even Jimin won’t say it? 

What the hell went down that night? 

No. Focus focus focus on the good. They all made it out, and there’s nothing to worry about anymore. Probably. Dalo guy can kick rocks and perish in the pits of hell for all you care, and Yoongi was able to find himself again. Only the worst is yet to come before the skies are completely clear. 

“There’s one more thing.”

Both men turn your way, attentive immediately. 

“This time, when my brother comes back…” 

Jimin’s eyes fill right up to the brim like yours. 

“Yoongi’s gonna tell him everything.” 

—

—

But Yoongi still needs to tell you something, too. 

Outside in the setting sunlight, you stare at the key in your fingers before determination tightens your grip. 

You’re gonna ask about what happened tonight. 

And you can’t give up without an answer.

Opening the door, you’re greeted with the faint sound of a song, quickly realizing which one it is and already feeling like an intruder.

“Babe?” 

Hopefully he heard you. Just in case he wants to pause it, and just in case it’s a little too personal. 

Because that’s the one he’s worked on the least since you’ve been listening in on his sessions. For some reason, it feels like something he’d rather keep close to that beautiful chest. 

There’s no response to your yell, so you set your bag down and head to his room. “Last chance,” you joke into the door. “I’m coming in!” 

All you see are faint pink and orange hues sprawling across the room. And one passed out head of hair lying across folded arms.

Déjà vu is one heck of a concept.

Things were so different the first time this happened, and you were much more cautious with your heart when it came to this man. 

To think that you’d now take a bullet for him without a second thought isn’t even wild to consider. Because you have a strange yet unshakeable feeling that he would do the same for you. 

Just the idea is enough to shrink your throat as you take measured steps toward his sleeping form, noticing with a smile that his outfit is quite different from the last time. 

Very, very different. And much, much more revealing. 

Intrigued, you lightly shake his bare shoulder oh what the hell he is cold. “Yoongi?”

Immediately, he snaps up, glasses nudged off-kilter and strands astray in all directions. It’s only when he recognizes who you are and where he is that he rasps out a rugged greeting—the same one as last time,

“Hey, doll.”

God. The sleepy version of those two words might just be your favorite.

Chuckling, you softly spin his chair, swooping down with a kiss that seems to breathe life and energy into his veins. 

After you pull away, you adjust his specs, eyes beaming starlight into his when you announce through a smile, 

“I’m home.” 

Slowly, Yoongi nods with eyes shut. “Missed you.” 

A weight to his words compresses your chest, because it means something is still bothering him. “Missed you, too, baby.” 

When he doesn’t respond, you move to caress his slight stubble. Shit, was he rubbing his face too hard? He’s reopened a couple cuts. 

“Wait here,” you softly command. “We need to patch you up a bit.” 

To your surprise, Yoongi follows you through his room anyway, and he waits as you fetch things from the bathroom cabinet that you stocked. Wordlessly, you give him a shy smile before taking his hand in yours, leading him out to the living room.

Throughout the week, you’ve done pretty much everything you could do for him. But helping with his cuts and wounds? Every time, he’s done this part alone in his bathroom. 

So this is new. For the both of you. 

“Sit.” 

Doesn’t matter. You want to do this for Yoongi, if at least to show him that you’re not shying away from this, too. He doesn’t have to face anything alone anymore, and that includes himself. This is simply your way of telling him that. 

It’s gonna prove a bit hard to control yourself when he’s not wearing much, though. 

But you can do it. You’re a headstrong, determined, confident person who will not succumb to the way their boyfriend looks in a tank and sweats. 

Right. 

You're already nervous in your thinly-strapped top that's even more revealing than his.

Breathing deep, you walk towards him, standing between his legs and watching him look up with intrigue and curiosity. 

“I wanna do this for you, too,” you admit, straddling him when he gives you an encouraging, silent nod. “No funny business, though.” 

Fuck, his eyes already dip straight to your cleavage before roving up again. Once again, this man proves that he can do anything and you’re already threatening collapse. “Who said?” 

“M… Me,” you breath out, words hitching as Yoongi adjusts himself under your spread thighs. 

Ignore the smirk. Ignore it, for heaven’s sake, or you’re breaking your own fucking deal. 

“So hold still for me, sir.” 

A devious chuckle coats your chin as his head hits the couch, mouth at a slant that should never be paired with those glasses. 

Have mercy, you are already having trouble breathing. This is quite possibly the best worst mistake you’ve ever made, and that includes you asking him to fuck you back when you barely even spoke. 

That version of you would have fled at the sight of him now. 

But here you are, up close and more than personal, and you thank your past self for giving you every moment like this. 

As you start busying yourself with the cream, you wonder how you even got here in the first place. Truthfully, you don’t remember much about that day other than it storming right when you were halfway. The rain felt like a punishment at the time, a punishment for going where you shouldn’t and a sign to turn the fuck around. 

But now? You think of it as a blessing. Because if it wasn’t raining and you weren’t shivering like hell, you don’t think Yoongi would’ve even let you inside. 

It’s because of the heavy clouds that fateful day that all this has transpired. And you will always go back to that summer afternoon when Yoongi put sunlight back in your eyes. 

So this week has been your own chance to give some back. 

Determined, you lean forward, lightly spreading ointment on his cuts and concentrating to get every spot covered. Your focus is so zeroed in that you almost don’t feel the soothing circles of his thumb on your thighs. 

It doesn’t take long, but that’s due to your patient being the best boy. Yoongi only watches as you patch him up, breathing soft from his nose and blinking up at your face. 

Pretty soon, you’re finished, turning to set everything down on the… Not coffee table. But the floor. 

You can shop for a new one soon. 

Well. Your first task is done. Now comes the difficult one, and you kinda just wing it because overthinking has gotten you absolutely nowhere. 

“What’s wrong?”

Of course he catches onto your silence. Gulping down all your fears, you take the leap, grateful for the hands holding your hips in support, 

“If I ask you anything.. will you be honest with me?”

“Yes.” Zero hesitation makes your heart jolt. “Just ask, love.”

Swallowing, you sieve through the questions and thoughts you want to make sense of, trying to figure out the best way to go about things without making it uncomfortable. 

Ah, screw it. There is no best way. “Are you hiding something from me?”

Yoongi’s brows tick. “No.”

It’s more than obvious that he wants to say more. But the fact that he doesn’t? Is actually pretty relieving. 

“What happened that night then,” you slowly ask, hating how his fingers tense on your thigh. “In the lot.”

A sigh is your first answer. 

Then silence is your second. 

The moment draws out so long you think Yoongi won’t fess up, but he finally responds to your stomach instead of your searching eyes,

“Which part.”

Fuck. He’s gonna make you say it. You really, really don’t want to, but he won’t answer unless you’re specific. 

Here it goes then. “My brother said the guy from Dalo pulled something on you.” 

Immediately, a tongue prods his cheek.

“And you did something, but that’s all I got,” you finish, folding your lips to keep anything else from spilling out like emotions or feelings or any leftover screams from when you were dragged away. 

“So ask me.”

Fuck. 

You glance up to see Yoongi staring, eyes trained on your face while the rest of his face remains unmoving. 

“I…” Shit, you already feel queasy. But he’s gonna answer, so just cut the bullshit and ask. “What did you do?”

“He had a gun.” 

What.

“And I just reacted.”

…What?

He braces for this next part, and your entire world suspends in his outstretched hands. 

“Just thought it should be me instead of him.” 

Oh. God. 

Tears form before you can say a word, your fingers shaking and balling up cotton. “You… Oh, Yoongi—”

Your head falls into your palms, every fiber of your being struggling to grasp that the end result wasn’t as horrifying as it could’ve been. Because it still almost happened and you almost lost a home. 

People have left before. Many, many times. But they all walked away for their own selfish reasons, and they didn’t come back. Yoongi’s reasons have always been selfless. Always always always, and would’ve been to the very end had he—

Warm hands slide up your arms, but you can’t stop your shakes, you can’t even fucking think straight you can’t even fucking talk. 

“Baby…” 

What’s that you said about taking a bullet for him? Chills skitter down your spine when you realize how accurate you were in thinking he would do it. Because Yoongi just did it for the only family you have. 

Ride or die has never had a better example in physical form. His love for your brother runs deeper than tree roots, and you feel the bitter leaves of guilt nicking your body on all sides.

“Listen. I didn’t know what he was doing,” he tries to clarify, voice swimming low in your ringing ears. “But I just moved.” 

Stop. You’ve got to pull it together because there’s more to ask but goddamn it already hurts. 

How can you make room for all the love that’s still pouring in for this man? How can one heart ever be enough? 

“Thank you,” you hitch out, letting tears ping onto his lap. “But I love you.” 

His fingers grip a tad tighter. 

“So please.” You finally leave the wet walls of your hands, noticing the deep, deep pools of emotion in his eyes. “Don’t ever get into that again.” 

“I know. We all know.”

“Thank you for telling me.” You swipe at your cheeks. “And the guitar?”

Shit. Yoongi reacts even worse to that. Like he half expected it but half hoped you wouldn’t ask. 

“It was a gift,” he starts, looking anywhere but at you. “From my ex.”

…What? And he kept it this whole time? 

Dark, dark poison seeps into your side as your legs lose their grip. “Oh.”

From one wild emotion to the next. This rollercoaster knocks you around a bend, and you suddenly need it to find a way to stop it in its tracks. 

Why did he keep it? Does he still think about her? Is this why he’s never mentioned her, because he didn’t want you knowing the real truth? 

This is too much. Your brain is spinning and looping and it starts to lift you from his legs but Yoongi holds you tight and doesn’t let you leave—

“There’s a reason I never let anyone in.” 

You let your eyes lift to his lidded expression, hating how some of the shadow has returned. 

“And it’s because of her.”

Shit. His hands. 

They’re trembling. 

Immediately, the ride slows to a stop. 

And your chest crumbles alongside your shoulders. You can deal with self-esteem issues or anything to do with his own self, but an ex that he can’t even speak of without anxiety? That’s a completely different story. 

Now you feel terrible for forcing it on him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Should’ve told you from the start.” 

“No.” Understanding flows through your assurance. “That’s not my business. We don’t have to talk about it.”

He gives you a soft look of gratitude as hands find your hips. “We can. It doesn’t bother me now.” 

But his hands… “You sure?” 

“Yeah.” Yoongi’s rueful smile sends a pang through your heart. “She treated me like shit, but. She can’t haunt me anymore.” 

Your throat clenches. Because now you know exactly what the hell Yoongi’s talking about. 

Those things you’ve been told, those lies you’ve been led to believe, those arguments you always seemed to lose even when you knew you were in the right. Even the way you’ve been told you won’t ever amount to much, and the way you’ve blatantly been told you’d never find anyone else. All of it reeks of pain and injustice. And oh, how you’ve been drug through the mud until you couldn’t even recognize your own fucking reflection. 

Fucking hell, if this was what Yoongi has been going through, you do wish he told you. You’d draw swords against anyone for him, and that includes the ghosts of his past thinking they could keep holding him hostage in his own fucking head. 

You’re so livid you can’t even see straight, and your words leave in smoke, “I know what you mean.”

“What?”

Your breath shakes. Because no matter how long it’s been, this is still hard. “When you go through that for so long, it’s what you’re used to, you know? So anything good that comes, it’s either hard to believe, or you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

Yoongi just stares like he’s seeing you for the first time. 

“But you?” Shit. Get the words out because he needs to hear them loud and clear. “You’ve made me realize that I can believe the good things, that I do deserve them. And I should’ve been there for you all this time because I would’ve tried and fought until you got to that point, too.”

Your vision isn’t the clearest. 

But you’re gonna remember this look on Yoongi’s face forever. 

This stricken, bright-rimmed, pained yet relieved expression will burn and sear into memory, staying etched into your heart until its last beat fades out. 

It’s love in ultimate sanctuary. 

Because it’s what you feel every second you see him. 

“I don’t know what she did to you, or what she ever said,” you conclude, cupping his cheek and wiping a stray tear. “But it’s all wrong and it doesn’t matter anymore. At all. Okay?”

Another drop needs sweeping as yours continue to freefall. Your chest is so close to his now, and you can feel the warmth of his palms as he holds you with arms so firm. 

The house in your heart has grown a garden, flowers of all shades taking root and blooming bright. You reach out and skim along their soft petals, watering them with every tear you brush from your lover’s countenance. Once, twice, a little rain shower for two. 

Out of all the people you know, Yoongi might be the strongest. 

“Everything okay, baby?”

When he finally speaks, your heart beats at his praise. Because it’s so far from what you expect, and far from what you usually tell yourself. “So goddamn perfect..”

“You think so?” You smile with your eyes, noticing the cut on his lower cheek and noting to patch that one again. “Maybe I am.” 

Finally, you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t reject it. 

And Yoongi’s slow grin of pride is the best and most beautiful reward you could’ve received.

Fuck, the things you would do to see that every day. Is being in tune with yourself all you need to make him proud? Is that really all he wants for you? 

Who’s really the perfect one here? 

“You have been this whole time,” he whispers, kissing moonlight into your wrist. “Ever since you came over.” 

…What? 

This time, you do hesitate, moving away to confirm that you heard him correctly. 

Are you both on the exact same wavelength? Because how in the world is he referencing the same date and time that you were just thinking about? “...Really?”

“I’m not just saying that, doll.” Yoongi’s brows touch. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing, just what used to be everything. Your mouth bends in a sad upward curve. “I just… No one’s told me that except you.”  

“Look at me.”

You slowly peel your lids upward, mesmerized by how Yoongi’s somehow glowing in the last fading colors of dusk.  

“If you’ve never been told you’re perfect, everyone’s a fucking idiot.” 

Oh, how you love this man. “It’s true,” you shrug. “But like we were saying. Everyone else can eat shit anyway.” 

Yoongi doesn’t laugh when you do, simply moving his hands to your waist. “I meant what I said,” he continues with conviction. “You don’t see it yet, but you will.” 

God, your ears are searing right through. How is he still going? “Stop,” you pout, hand pressed against his solid chest. “No one can be that perfect.”

“I meant for me.”

Your thoughts grind to a halt. “What?”

All Yoongi does is tilt his chin higher. But it’s enough to drive you to the brink, catapulted further by his words and his look void of any teasing,

“No one will ever come close.” 

You’re already building the floor plan for a second home next door.

Does Yoongi know he can’t just say things like that and get away with it? You can only handle so much praise before your mind explodes. Truly, any amount is already hard enough to accept. Shouldn’t he be the one that understands your predicament the most? 

So unfair.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” you groan, cheeks simmering and warm. “You cannot just say that and expect me to be okay.”

A huff of amusement adds more heat to your skin. “Maybe it’s why I do.”

“Of course it is.”

Smiling, his touch slowly travels to your ass, and his squeeze makes you flinch against his lap. 

“Babe?” You freeze. “What are you—”

“Angel,” he suddenly grits out in reverence, leaning forward to kiss the bare skin of your chest. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Yoongi,” you gasp as his hands slip under your top. “We shouldn’t until you’re—”

“I’m good.” He breathes you in. “Promise. I just..”

Your breath catches in your throat, tugging your hands out to wrap around his hair and clutch soft strands. “Just what?”

Inhaling again, Yoongi kisses deeper between your breasts, sending shivers spiraling across your bones. “I need you so fuckin’ bad.”

“Oh.” You squirm not just in shyness, but something a lot more devious. “I need you, too, baby… But I don’t wanna hurt you.”

With a quick snap, Yoongi shoves you onto his pelvis, and you yelp at the friction against his hardened tent. “I don’t even give a shit if you do.” Tugging you forward again, he breaks at your whine. “But if I wait any longer I’ll lose my fucking mind.” 

“Shit.” Bliss erupts as your legs squeeze his hips. Throwing the last scraps of your dignity, you snatch his face with both hands, core buzzing when his eyes lock with your lips, “Are you sure? I have to know because—”

“Yes, angel—”

“I’m—I’m serious, Yoongi, you don’t get it,” you say with barely held restraint, now knowing everything this man has been willing to do for you and the people you both love. There’s a dark, scary, obsidian part of you that is far from the nickname he’s giving. A little beast growling and crouching, ready to lunge. “I… I want…”

And you let it loose when you whisper exactly what you’ve been wanting to do this entire time, eyes innocent yet tongue fiendish on the shell of his ear,

“I want to ruin you.”

Fuck. 

Never. Ever. Has Yoongi’s reaction sent shivers down your skin so fast. You already consider stopping because you’re outright quaking from the things you want to do to him. The waves are coming fast and your first instinct is to run. 

But there’s an intensity in his eyes swirling so fiercely it tugs you from shore, and you barrel past all your own muddled excuses as soon as he claws into your soul,

“Do it.”

“Finally.” 

Your mouths clash hard as you swallow his tongue from above, stretching his neck over the back of the couch and melting your front onto his. Breathy sounds come from you or him, you aren’t quite certain, but you give his mouth a final shove before attacking his cheek, his jaw, the soft column of his neck. 

Shuddering at his moan when you suck a vein. 

“My baby’s so sensitive,” you taunt, mocking his words from days and days past. “Gonna have fun with you.”

“Who’d you learn all that from,” he slowly rasps back, groaning when you rake nails along his bare shoulders. “Fuck.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You push onto your knees, grabbing his head and yanking him back by those luscious locks fuck he’s already heavy lidded and wanton. Seeing Yoongi so blissed out when you’ve barely started with him? Holy shit you’re so turned on your cunt squeezes around nothing. “Too bad.” 

“What the fuck is happening.” 

Humming, your descent is quick, pressing lips deep into the skin of his throat and licking, swirling, lapping at the sweat already forming from his body’s flinches and locks. Because Yoongi is gripping the cushions of his couch and fighting for his goddamned life. 

When you feel his arms sling around your back, you sigh into his skin. And when he scratches all fingers down your shoulders, you realize exactly why he likes when you do the same.

That shit felt divine. It’s the ultimate encouragement to keep tugging on his hair, yanking his groan to the side to pepper kisses along his good shoulder. “Told you, baby,” you whisper to his silky tone. “You have no idea what’s coming.” 

Yoongi’s only response is a breathy laugh as you slide your twisting core over his sweats. “You better be fuckin’ careful.” 

“And why is that,” you ask, taunting him with another slow roll up his excruciatingly hard tent. Fuck, you wanted to take your time but you are seconds away from caving he’s already hitting your spot just right. “Why should I listen to you?” 

It takes less than a second to remember how strong he is, both arms slamming you onto his dick as he launches his hips upward. Your mewl morphs into a wicked grin when he threatens so delightfully, 

“Cus when it’s my turn, you’re fucked, doll.” 

Giggles bubble from your stomach as hands slide down his neck. Pressing your forehead against his and feeling your perspiration, too, you goad with a feigned pout, “Promise?” 

When he grins, there aren’t any words, his eyes locked on your heaving chest. Hot palms slide down to your ass, squeezing out a moan as he bites his lip. “Of course, baby girl.” 

You can’t lose to him. 

When you push your body against his neck, you revel in the way his face nestles in your bosom, glasses slightly fogged and face already flushed to hell. “It’s cute,” you purr downward, “How you think you’re even getting a turn.” 

Fucking hell, Yoongi’s eyes are so blown out they swallow you whole. 

And you welcome the abyss with open arms. “Let me.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve always taken care of me.” Gently, you caress the hair on his nape. “Let me take care of you this time.”

You watch as light beams into his gaze, and you slowly descend for a kiss, molding into him and breathing in that musk you love so much. If his eyes are the abyss, yours are the void, the monster in your belly on its haunches and ready to roar again. 

“Gonna ask one more time,” you whisper to his parted mouth. “You sure I won’t hurt you?” 

The dark chuckle you get in response rumbles your ribcage. “You already have,” he says through a devilish slant. “And it feels so fucking good.” 

Oh. You know exactly what he means. 

And this is the moment you break. 

Your deep kiss is a prelude to the ones you plant along his jaw, careful not to touch his wounds as you slide your way down his other side. The fingers you feel skating along your tee are twitching and vibrating with need, and the soft moans you hear launch arrows to your core. 

God, he sounds so pretty. Is this what he thinks about when you’re unraveling under his touch? 

It’s addicting. It’s vitalizing. You want more more more. 

Growing bolder in lust, you kiss down Yoongi’s arm, saliva coating his smooth skin before your finger impishly shifts his tank to the side. As soon as his nipple is freed, your mouth cups it hot, tongue swirling—

“What the fuck?” 

Your cunt pulses wild as Yoongi bucks forward, his head digging into the top of the couch and fingers digging divots in your hips. Arms wrap around your waist in a snap, and you keep sucking just to feel him hang on tighter and tighter and tighter. 

Then you bite. 

And Yoongi flings out a moan so loud you might come.

“Baby, hold on—”

Your fingers rake down his shoulder before squeezing around his other nub, back straining in the tight bend you’re in but it’s worth it all to hear him like this. Like he can’t even function and can’t say anything other than your name. God, it is a high it is a drug. You should’ve been taking the reins a lot more often than the one time you sucked him off so hard he—

Speaking of.

Your lips release his chest with a pop, and you feel drool slathered all over your face when your command dies on your lips, “Lemme…” 

Holy fuck, Yoongi is gone. 

Hair astray, jaw loose, brows pinched to hell and an angry flush of red flooding his chest. Just the mere sight of him this undone makes you whine, and your brain can’t even remember what you want to say. 

Chests heaving, you both simply drink each other in. Because while he looks near collapse, you fear you aren’t faring much better. You already know a strap of your tee has left your shoulder, and your senses are so overblown you know your eyes look volcanic. 

And you know for a fact you’re so fucking wet. 

“Sit at the edge. For me,” you command through heavy breaths. “Now.” 

Your neck is grabbed before you’re tugged into a kiss, and you match his manic energy before dropping to his rug. His pants are quickly stripped right after, cock springing free and already imprinting on the back of your throat. 

Well. Yoongi did say he’s gonna lose his fucking mind. May as well make that a reality. 

“Babe—”

Your mouth gulps him up before he can get the words out, cheeks hollowing and ears perking at his smattering of hisses. You don’t know what the fuck he was gonna say, and quite frankly, you don’t care. All you’re focused on is giving him your worst, swirling tongue around his tip and squeezing his base with a sure hand. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Sucks, licks, twirls are all practiced and measured, and you slide all the slick down his length before pumping him the way he likes. His heady scent enters your nose the more of him you swallow, and you feel the telltale strain in your pipe with each deep pass. 

Fuck, he is unwinding. And Yoongi being so vocal is the reason for the slick coating your thighs, because you damn near lose it when a moan leaves that mouth at a higher pitch than normal what the fuck was that? 

“Fuck, babe,” he grits through tight teeth. “So fucking—”

Curses tumble down your back in waves, slick palms hovering over your head and brushing the side of your face. Yoongi can’t decide where to keep his hands as your slobber coats and coats him, finally settling on your scalp and gripping it with need. 

Popping off and fully rising on your knees, you let him tilt your head back as he leans forward, drinking in his handsome face and loving the fact he hasn’t taken those goddamn glasses off. Strings web from your chin to his throbbing cock, and you have the boldest audacity to ask,

“What, baby?” 

He can only shake his head with a smirk. “I can’t even fucking say.” 

Body heat passes over your wet chin as you rasp out another question, “Does it feel good?” 

“The fuck?” He kisses your shiny forehead as cold jewelry taps your skin. “I can’t even think straight.” 

“Good,” you hum, sliding your palm along his wet cock and basking in his shuddering moans. Not only does he sound beautiful, but his cologne sends you spiraling even further. 

And you’re going somewhere you’ve never gone before. “There’s still this, too..” 

You haven’t done this yet. At least, you don’t think you have. But the idea came to you this week when you’ve had plenty of time to hatch menacing plans, and your body is buzzing to fulfill something you think Yoongi wants. Because who the fuck wouldn’t want this? 

Lowering both thin straps of your top, you let your breasts free, watching Yoongi shamelessly groan at the sight of them. “Just for you, baby,” you vow, squeezing both tits around his cock and feeling him twitch like mad. 

“You’re fuckin’ lying,” Yoongi growls low, words scraped from the roof of his mouth as he flings his head back. “Fuck!” 

Delighted to hell, you laugh at his slipping grip on sanity. Yes yes yes, this is where you love to see him. He deserves nothing but ecstasy after everything he’s given, and you’re here to provide. A goddess worshipping her forever love. An angel delivering sin. 

“Look at me, Yoongi,” you whine, oozing desire as he leans forward covered in lust and sweat. Your hands continue to slide your tits along his velvety veins, your essence coating them in a shine the more spit they gather. “There you go.” 

“Fucking hell, doll.” 

“You like it?” 

Yoongi reaches out to caress a nipple, and your flinch coaxes wickedness from his curve. “So fucking nasty for me.” 

You can’t help but grin, reaching to grip his cock between your tits. “Only you.” 

His lips catch yours before your breath finishes, and your eyes slip shut as you feel his palms around your jaw. His presence envelops you from all sides, and you want to exist nowhere else. The world can fall away and cease to turn on its axis, and you’d still be right here, orbiting this man in darkness in silence in triumph in joy. 

Pure emotion is what lowers your head back onto his cock, taking so much of him your throat constricts in surprise alone. When he knocks the back of your walls, your brain jangles with his guttural moan, and you choke around him so hard your eyes prick with tears. 

“Shit.” 

You stay pressed against his pelvis a second more, gasping when you come up for air and immediately latching onto his sack. Over your head, you hear your name shoot out of Yoongi’s lips, and your eyes slide high enough to see him on his last thread of coherency. 

“Doll, you gotta—you gotta stop—” 

“I don’t wanna—” 

Your entire head is yanked onto his thigh, breaths heavy and gulping in all the oxygen on the planet. Beads of sweat start to slide down your neck, and you look up to see Yoongi’s bangs clinging to his moist skin. 

Again, you find yourself coughing out laughter. Because you’re doing exactly what you set out to do. “Surprised?”  

“Not at all,” he huffs out, looking like a man completely satiated and spent. “This is all I’ve been waiting for.” 

Oh? That’s news to you. Now you really do wish you started embracing this side of you sooner. “Hope it’s what you wanted.” 

“Fucking… overachiever, fuck.” 

Grin lopsided, you fully rest your head on toned muscle. “I almost came,” you admit with not one ounce of shyness. “Sucking you off.” 

If you aren’t mistaken, Yoongi’s soul damn near leaves his body entirely. “You’re not allowed to say shit like that.” 

“What,” you wheeze out, limbs gelatinous and cunt pulsing. “It’s true.” 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” When you puff laughter onto his leg, he grins. “Had to stop you before I came, too.” 

“Help me up, please,” you breathe out, loving how Yoongi assists without pause. Your body is slowly lifted from the floor as he helps you climb back on his lap, and you immediately find purchase in his chest. “That took more energy than I thought.” 

Breathy laughs tickle your ear. “Lie down for me then, babe.”

“No,” you pout. “Wanna keep. Going.” 

Ever the giving lover, Yoongi lets you take a breather as he rubs circles on your back. “Whatever you want.” 

You turn to slowly kiss his slick neck, traveling further the more access he gives. With each tender plant on his skin, you find more and more strength, but it’s less of the manic kind and more of the outright desire to encase him in love. 

His palms slide up your back, caught in your straps before rising higher to grip your shoulder blades. When he digs fingers into your skin, you moan into his throat, licking a spot that has him purring. 

“Let me get a condom, love,” he whispers in your ear. And you oblige with a melting slide off of his thighs. “So cute.” 

It isn’t long until Yoongi returns, but you practically fuse into the couch when you notice that he’s ditched the tank, leaving his chains and the fucking glasses still? 

Oh. Cool. You’re a goner and now your shorts are drenched.

But you have to remove them anyway, so you slowly stand and make a spectacle out of your strip. Your chest beats loud as Yoongi watches from his seat, his eyes cast in heavy desire watching you slip your bottoms to the floor. You can only focus on the way he rolls protection on, because there’s no way you can hold eye contact with a demon for so long. 

When your top hits the ground next, his gravelly hum makes you feel like a god. How ironic, when he commands your every heaven and hell. 

“Come here.” 

Silent, you slowly mount him once more, pouting to his fiendish smile and narrowing your eyes. “How’d you know to leave them on.” 

Yoongi’s teeth shine as he spreads that stupid, cocky grin. And his lack of an answer has you gritting your annoyance out in pure ire, 

“You asshole.” 

Of course he only laughs. 

Bright, white need booms through your center as you grip his shoulders, positioning yourself over his dick with no hands and sliding right on oh holy fuck this part will always leave you breathless from how big he is—

“That’s so hot,” he groans to the ceiling, “Goddamn.” 

Wild, fluttering pulses erupt around his cock, and you have to breathe through the connection as you sink and sink and sink. Your thighs burn so deliciously as you adjust, and you start to wonder how long you’ll last without his help. Because your legs are fucking burning. “So big,” you hitch. “Feels too damn good.” 

“So fucking tight.” 

Both of you groan when you fully sheath, and your slow rocks are enough to send him in a cursing frenzy. Yoongi can’t stop praising you as you move against him, holding you close and breathing down your chest. There are words you’ve heard him say many times, but there’s one that snaps your attention in threes and makes your head twirl. 

What did he just say? 

“Kiss me.” 

You do exactly that, keeping your achingly slow pace and molding your whole body with his. The hard rims of his specs hit your skin as you push deeper, and you grip his slippery neck to keep yourself from falling even harder for him. 

It’s no use. You think you’ll be falling forever. 

Because your love for him is endless. 

Life is significant when you’re joined and moving as one. Sweat drips down your skin in rivulets, but you both don’t care. All you know is how deep he feels inside, how perfect you fit him, how in love you are with every determined stroke.

You tilt his head to kiss him deep, and you shudder at the way he moans and throbs beneath you, 

“You’re so…” 

“Hmm?” 

Yoongi’s eyes struggle to find your face. “I don’t even.. know.” 

“Try.” Damn, he really is fighting to stay in one piece. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this and it’s thrilling, and addicting, and everything you want. “What’s on your mind, my love.” 

“You,” he gasps. “Just you, I can’t…” 

You can’t believe what you’re witnessing. Yoongi is downright entranced. 

Is this what you looked like that first day you came over? Is this how he saw you when you completely lost yourself around him? His fucked out face alone is filling you with a fierce need to fulfill every wish he’s too scared to ask for. 

A hand moves to cut his airway, and the groan you feel under your fingers is almost as sinful as the smirk stretching across his face. 

“That’s my girl,” he manages beyond your hold, chuckling at the way you squeeze around his cock because fuck even underneath you he has so much power. “Give it to me.” 

Fuck. You tighten your hold, shoving his head up and over the couch. “You asked.” 

Planting your feet on either side of him, you give yourself more power and leverage to your bounces, lifting with each thrust and slamming down the full length of him. 

“Shit!” 

Big, sweaty hands grip under your thighs, helping you in your quest to destroy him and reaching back to slap your ass. You buck forward with each pleasurable sting, whining into his mouth when you swallow his lips, both mouths parting in pleasure with each thump of your skin against his.

“Baby, this feels—” Your arms sling around to grip the back of the couch, and you fling a moan to the ceiling as Yoongi latches onto one of your tits, hot tongue swirling around a nipple and emitting sounds that should never be heard in public. “Fuck!” 

“Taste so fucking good.” 

“Yoongi!” 

Goddamn, are you already about to come? The throbbing you feel in your cunt is so demanding you think he’s already at his wit’s end, too. 

“Angel, lemme feel you,” Yoongi breathes up to your chin. “Come for me so I can paint these tits.” 

Your groan tears the deepest part of your soul, and your whole body goes limp as your lover does the work for you, sliding you up and down his cock as his ridges hit just right. His hips thrust up to meet halfway, and you whine into his ear the harder and faster he starts to go. 

“That’s it,” he coaxes, grunting out when you squeeze him hard. “Fuck, good girl.” 

Your whine pierces straight through his couch. 

Shit, even with his help, you feel an unbearable sting in your muscles. All of them in your lower body are screaming to stop, but you want to keep going going going for him. “My legs,” you wheeze out anyway. “I need to relax for a sec.” 

With a kiss to your cheek, Yoongi offers with no hesitation, “Lie down, love.” 

Oh. Is he sure? “You gonna be okay?” 

Wordlessly, he presses you against him as your back sinks into his couch. It’s the most gentle he’s been tonight, and that turns you on so much you know he can feel you pulse around him. 

But he says nothing, eyes roaming your face before he leans to capture your lips, breaths mingling and wisping around your cheeks while he completes a perfect roll of his hips. 

“You’ve given me everything.” Sliding his glasses off, he sets them on the ground before cupping your ear. “Let me do the same.”  

Soul glimmering, you nod in silence. 

As much as you love being on top and watching him unravel beneath you, this is where you will always find home. In his arms, love between your lips as you find connection in more than just below, joining as one. 

Your world spans from the room in his heart that you’ve been blessed to have, to the end of his shadow that you will always forgive. You can’t think of anything to say now, but it’s not because you’re shy. 

It’s because you aren’t the same person you were when you first ended up here, and you think Yoongi has also changed for the better. 

That is exactly why you will fight to make everything work. 

Moonlight streams strong through the blinds, and you adore how it highlights every part of this man above your twinkling eyes. The silver lining pales in comparison to what you have in your hands, and the slight tint will never compare to his ethereal shade of blue. Every inch of him feels perfect in your folds, and his body slots into yours just right, roll after roll so heavenly you feel like crying. 

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers to your soul, and you fling yourself off the edge just to get to him, tide crashing and swirling as you hold him so, so tight. 

He groans hot against your slick cheek, no doubt feeling the desperate tug of your walls, and collapses the beautiful weight of his body on yours. 

Yes. This is what you want. Him him him and his complete loss of control. 

When you rake nails across his back, the outright whine you hear spurns you on, and you can’t help but come again, squeezing him tight and hearing him lose his mind twice. You crash into waves of your own creation, spiraling in your own whirlpool of need and want and love and desire and every fucking thing in between. 

“I’m yours,” you whoosh out, mewling in his ear as he strokes into you harder. “Come for me, love.”

It seems he completely abandons his first plan. Because you think he’s gonna pull out to unload on your chest, but you get held down so hard you scream. 

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit, Yoongi’s never come so hard for you, thrashing as he clutches you tight. Desperate, you moan from how powerful he twitches inside, spilling into you but not the way you want. Not the way he wants. But you will get there one day and you don’t fucking care if anything happens after that, as long as you’re with him. 

Honestly? You’d be fine with… Something happening after that—

“Fuck..”

Your future thoughts are interrupted by harsh breaths, and you sling tired arms around the love of your life. 

“I’m yours, too, doll.” He grits his teeth and tightens his hold around your spent form. “That’s it. This is it for me.” 

“And I love you, too,” you heave to his deep set brows, swallowing oxygen and searching his eyes for something else. “How do you feel?”

“There’s… There’s no noise.” 

No noise?

“I…” Yoongi clutches your head with a warm palm, eyes settling into soft crescents and sparkling like celestials. “The only thing I hear is you.” 

This has to be big news for him. It has to be, given the outright relief showing on his face. So instead of questioning further, you only give your support and celebrate this win, “That’s all you need, to be fair.”

His laugh lights your soul aflame. “Thank you.” Eyes roaming along your face, he smiles. “For everything.” 

Following his advice earlier, you ask him another question you need to know the answer to, “Will you tell me if things get bad again?”

Shit. There seems to be a war in his head, and you wait with bated breath. “Gonna be honest.. I don’t know if I’ll remember to.”

Well, that’s a little scary. You tap him to sit up, and he obliges. “Why?”

Instead of sitting, Yoongi stands from the cushions, holding your hand to lift you beside him. It’s intimate to be naked just like this in his living room, but you aren’t shying away. This is your place now, too, you’d like to believe, and this is Yoongi’s way of showing it. 

When he leads, you know you’re heading to the bathroom. But you listen as he tries to explain, rolling off the condom and chucking it in the nearest bin,

“It’s.. I dunno. Like my mind just leaves and goes off the rails and I can’t stop it.” You both head into his room. “Everything I think about just comes in at once and I’m drowning again.” 

“Oh, baby.. I didn’t know it was like that.” When you stop him near his desk, you give a kiss of support to his cheek. “What about talking to someone?” 

For the upteenth time today, Yoongi is stunned. “Like a psychiatrist?"

“Hmm. Maybe, or a therapist? Depends on what you want, but I can’t remember right now. Have no think.”

Looking down, Yoongi reaches for his phone next to his keyboard, and both of you check up on the definitions while you hook an arm around his. Looks like he’d be better off with a therapist for what he’s looking for.  

“It could help,” you murmur, hoping he’s fine with your suggestion. “Maybe.”

Staring and looking through more pages and sites, Yoongi comes to his own conclusion. “I think you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

Phone thudding down on his desk, he rubs your shoulder, thumb brushing and feeling beautifully warm. “Most of the time.”

Your poke to his side sets off a flinch. 

“For now, you just have to find something that calms you down.” You extricate yourself from his side and head to the bathroom, feeling the chill of night air on your bare skin. “Like something that will just.. I dunno, make you forget all the bad shit for a little while.” 

“It’s you, doll.” 

You turn to face him across the room, eyes searching for any doubt as he walks up to your planted feet. 

“This whole time, it’s always been you.” Reaching for your hips, he softly connects your front to his. “My nights are for sleeping again.”

Oh. That’s more than you can bear to know. Touched, you caress his hair, eyes teary and full. “Good. It felt like something was bothering you this whole week, but. Maybe I was just reading into it too much.” 

“You aren’t wrong.” He swallows, gaze looking towards his bed. “I… Wrote some songs. At the hospital.” When you don’t say anything, he stares at your lips. “And I really, really wanna work on them.” 

Wait. That’s it? “Oh. That’s what you’ve been working on here? I won’t keep you if you need to work on them now.” 

“Nah, I’ve just been doing the instrumentals here. If I wanna record vocals, I’d have to go to the studio.” 

This is so confusing. Does he think he can’t go? Or does he think you wouldn’t wanna go with him? “...Okay?” 

He finally regards your eyes, stunned that you’d readily let him go. “Okay?”

“Yes, silly. If it’s something you need to go do, then do it.” You feel bad if you were the reason he couldn’t do what he’s been wanting to do. Maybe you should be more vocal in your support instead of just your actions. “Just show me what you end up doing because I’m nosy.”

“Come with me.”

“Hmm?”

Yoongi pulls you close, leading both your hands around his side and your faces closer. And it’s criminal how dashing he looks in those specs with his hair falling around the rims. “To the studio. Come with me.” 

Your breath catches in your throat as your pulse quickens. “You sure, baby?”

“No one’s gonna be there for a minute,” he assures. “We still got a bit of time before anyone comes in.”

“If you’re okay with it..” Suddenly shy, you stare at the silver on his chest.“I’ve always wanted to come see you at work, so.”

“No shit?” Yoongi’s face lights up so fast you’d think the moon dipped into the room. “Let’s go then.” 

—

—

This is happening. This is actually happening. 

A whole wave of excitement drenches you as you’re brought into the studio you’ve only heard about. 

Shelves of equipment line one wall while a black sofa sits right near the door, hugging the backside of the room. On the far side, you see one huge workstation, littered with different buttons, sliders, computer monitors, and backed by a speaker system that stands in front of a long glass window. 

Oh. Sick. There’s a recording booth attached right to their room, and even that space looks pretty decently sized. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, eyes wide as you take in your surroundings. The air itself feels new and exciting, full of promise and dreams and… one Min Yoongi smiling at you from the doorway. 

Laughing, you blurt, “What?” 

His teeth shine as he looks down, shutting the door and making his way towards you. The way he walks makes you feel many things, but above all, it lets you know how at home he feels here. How comfortable and in his element. “Nothing, doll,” he says through a grin. “Just watching you.” 

Your eyes cannot sparkle bright enough. But you let him pull you into his arms as you keep looking around. “It’s amazing,” you note with wonder. “No wonder you practically live here.”

There’s no malice or anything negative in your tone. So you’re confused when Yoongi’s shoulders drop. “Sorry,” he apologizes, eyes downcast. “I always try to make things quick.”

Your eyes snap to his. “What? No, don’t do that.” Sliding palms up his jaw, you look him head on. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, okay? I don’t care how much time you spend here, not if it’s what you wanna do.” 

You meant it earlier. He has to know you’re gonna support his dreams and aspirations no matter what. In actions, and in words. If he doesn’t know that yet? Well. You aren’t trying hard enough to drive the point home. 

Yoongi twists his face to kiss one of your hands. “Thanks, baby.” 

Oh. Baby again. Not babe. Why does him saying that make you crumble a hundred times over? “Of course. And don’t mind me while we’re here, okay? I’ll be invisible unless you need my help.” 

Looking towards the workstation, Yoongi contemplates before turning back with a small nod. “I do, actually.” 

Wait, you even get some hands-on action? Yoongi’s gonna teach you shit? Tonight is the best night ever. “Perfect, put me to work. What are we doing, producer man?” 

—

—

Yoongi bobs in the recording booth while you do the same and await his first masterpiece. 

And as he spits line after line, you hype him up, grabbing your chair arm and yelling out as he completes another rhyme. 

Fuck, he’s good and quick-witted, which is inherently a turn on for you and launching you into his magnetic stratosphere. You start getting up to bounce in place, and he raps to the rug as you keep encouraging him to continue. He can’t hear you, but he can see you, and you’re certain those flashing smiles are for your antics. 

It’s amazing how Yoongi can just do this. He’s truly a genius, and you’re starting to wonder what other artistic prowess he has. You would be fine just sitting on the back couch and watching him work any day of the week. Why haven’t you been doing this sooner? 

Well. There are two pretty damn obvious reasons.

The beat bumps and bumps after he finally finishes, and you wait the designated seconds before cutting the recording line. Something about letting it run a bit as to not cut off the backend off his recorded part.

Just like that, Yoongi’s done with two out of the three songs he wrote in that waiting room. You shout in vehement support as he grins at your bouncing, standing ovation. As he comes through the recording door, you buzz at his amused as hell question, “What are you even doing in here?”

“Uhh, hyping you up? That was so good!”

His laugh creases those beautiful, spectacled eyes. “It’s just one verse per song!”

“Just one—let me try,” you command, settling back into your rolling chair. “Run it again and watch me.”

“Oh, yeah?” A few hisses of laughter shoot out as he peers up at the overhead screen. “Let’s see it then.”

The beat starts and you try to find a good first line to rhyme with. And this is meant to demonstrate to Yoongi that he is miles above everyone in rapping, but you start to get into it, using the simplest sentences and shouts and making your lover laugh his ass off.

But he’s egging you on and bobbing his head so enthusiastically that you’re somehow finding all the right words to say, elated when he shouts and looks at you with hearts in his eyes.

Your chuckle is softer and softer as you stop. “What?”

“You’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks sizzle right underneath. “You just say that because you’re happy.” 

“I am happy,” Yoongi says without hesitation, which makes your heart soar. “But you’re also perfect.” 

You cannot deal with this level of affection right now. Not when you both came for him to work on something important. Plopping into the rolling chair again, your stomach flips as it leans back a bit. “And you need to focus,” you order, rolling close and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You have one more to go, if my counts are correct.”

His eyes have a very intentional glint as he creases them at you, but he lets you steadily roll to the side as he looks at the console. “I have to move some tracks around, so this might take a sec. If you get bored, though, tell me and we can leave.”

“Not until you’re done.” 

Yoongi looks at you again, and he watches your smile. “You sure?”

When you nod, you take hold of your phone and lean into the plush but firm back of the chair. Unlocking your screen, you hum, “I’ll keep myself busy somehow.” 

“Come here.” 

Although low, Yoongi’s voice is more than enough to get your attention. Head raising, you see him angling himself towards you before rising out of his seat. 

Wait. What’s he doing? You know he’s supposed to be working. You both agreed this wouldn’t result in any funny business. But your throat remains closed and silent under those eyes. Fuck, they’re smoldering. Seriously, what is he doing? 

Leaning down, Yoongi places firm hands on your armrests, caging you in and letting his chain swing free, “I said come here.”

Well. If he doesn’t give a shit? Fuck it then.

You giggle before willfully meeting his lips, neck craning to reach him and swooning at the way his cold silver hits your throat. You’re nowhere near a bed nor couch anymore, but that’s exactly where your mind wanders for the quickest of seconds. 

Turns out, you aren’t the only one. Your mind has company. And it, along with your whole body, shivers at the next words pouring like liquid, spiced honey from that devilishly curved mouth, 

“I know we said what we said.”

“Uh huh…”

“But following the rules.. hasn’t exactly been my style.”

Your breath hitches at those mischievous eyes. “Even if they’re yours?”

Yoongi lets out a breath of a laugh, like he knew you would ask that and he’s got his answer loaded in the chamber. “Doll, there’s only one set of rules I wouldn’t break.” 

“And which ones are—”

Snatching your quick lips, he kisses butterflies into your belly before gripping your chin, holding your gaze and melting you with one syllable. 

“Yours.”

Maybe you’re about to pass away in a studio. But at least you’d have an excuse to stay in here forever now, because you could listen to Yoongi perform and record every day of your life. 

“The number of times…” He kisses you again, chaste and full. “I’ve thought about you in here…”

“Me…?” You breathe out before your eyes slip shut in another kiss. “Why?”

“One, I think about you everywhere.” He kisses your neck. “And two? Just cus I shouldn’t.” 

You suddenly get an idea. About a home studio that you certainly can put to use. But this one would have to do—

“Alright, old man,” you stop his next advance with a stiff arm. “Get to work before I make you.” 

“Ugh.” Yoongi rises with a deep chuckle. “You’re lucky I love that.” 

“I know you do.” 

“This is the last one anyway,” he notes, picking up his notebook and tapping it with a pen. “Just wanna make sure you’re fine hearing it.” 

“Of course I am, baby.” You roll up to the workstation as Yoongi loads a file into the interface. Based on the ones you already heard, you know why he’s asking you about this third track. Now you’re even more nervous to be in the room. “I’m not the one paying for the studio time.” 

His cheeks leap to the sky when he grins at the monitors, shifting things around the screen with the deftness of a professional. “Why do you seem so comfy here?” 

Your heart follows through the roof. Because you have the same feeling, but you already know the reason. It’s working right in front of you. “Because this is your home,” you respond through a smile. “And I can finally see why.” 

His hands pause as emotions race across his face. And while you think you can pick some of them out, a few of them border on melancholic. Regardless, you’re sticking to your answer, eyeing him when he faces you one more time. 

Bending, he cups your chin so, so tender. “You’re my home,” he corrects with a whisper, and your heart glows with his soft kiss to your cheek. “Now stop distracting me, brat.” 

Oh, he’s got to be joking! “What did I do!” 

Yoongi simply laughs as he checks everything over. With a tap of his fingers, he seems satisfied, so he heads into the recording room. “Just remember to do the same thing.” 

“Yeah, I got it.” 

Exhaling from your mouth, you watch as he slips on headphones and adjusts the mic. When he gives you a thumbs up, you give him a nod, hitting record and letting music flood the studio. 

And your entire body is surrounded by a desperate sense of longing, wildly different from the first two songs, and you slowly stand because you can’t do anything else. 

You understand everything now. 

Why Yoongi wouldn’t leave your side, why he was so eager to see you. You feel it now, too. This pull, this yearning, this overwhelming feeling in your chest that is tugging you closer and closer to him. There aren’t many words yet, but you understand what he’s trying to convey. 

This man can have the universe and then some. 

When Yoongi notices your tear-stained cheeks, he holds your gaze before slowly slipping his headphones down his hanging head.

It takes everything for you to stop the recording, shaking as you slowly walk to the recording room entrance. As you open the door, it feels more than symbolic, and a pang rings in your chest at the sight of Yoongi’s reddened eyes.  

So you bolt, crushing him into a hug and letting all those moments of separation and confusion and anger fall from your eyes. It’s not just a song, it’s a plea. It’s a cry for help. And you’re gonna answer it every single time. 

“I’m here, Yoongi,” you whisper. “I’ll always be here.” 

He doesn’t look when you cup his chin. 

“Baby, look at me.” He finally does, and your chest tightens so quick you choke. “It’s gonna be alright.” 

“You think so.” 

“Yes.” You smile, giving him a calming kiss that gets your point across. Then another to his cheek. And another to his forehead. Nothing heated. Nothing intense. Only the purest connection. “I’ll always lo—”

Every hair you have stands on end. 

Because a booming intercom buzzes across the room with a crackle and a snap, and all your peace flees as you snap your head to the window. 

Blanching at the person watching on the other side. 

“Yoongi, what the fuck?”

—

—

tbc :)

-

how did we enjoy the last drop!! | join the server!

a/n: AND THE WHOLE PART IS UPPPPP woohoo! thank you all for bringing such joy and love to this series that means the world to me. i cannot have asked for a cooler community, and knowing you guys have been waiting for this all this time? i could cry. even after all this time, you're still here. or you're just finding this series and joining us on this journey. thank you all for being here, and here's to... well... The Big Events. #prayForMe #willBeCryingOnMyKeyboard

++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here!

++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

a/n 2: we did this for 3tanfugue and the energy was great! just like last time, some of you guys suggested that we have post goals to encourage interaction. no one voted against it yet, so we'll keep it goin!

explicit warnings: cursing, thigh riding, cowgirl, oral (m rec), naughty studio time(??), couch sex, rough sex, giving yoongi the business, bold as fuck reader, choking, spanking, penetrative sex, kissing deserves to be here too lol, alexa play no hands by waka flocka, deep throating, hair/head tugging, nipple play, yoongi in that gd tank, yoongi in those gd glasses, teasing, titty fucking hello!!!!, stripping while he watches…. yeah, missionary, sub!3tanyoongi?????, scratching, multiple orgasms, protected sex, emotional sex, the glasses.. stay on??, good god they’re so hot i’m blushing

—

—

It’s morning when Jimin gets a call. 

Shifting in sheets that aren’t his, he sleepily blinks once before eyeing the blue light with a squint, wondering who dares wake him up before his natural rise. What time even is it anyway? It’s gotta be an ungodly hour if his circadian rhythm is disturbed. 

Still, he grabs his cell from the nightstand, flinching at the movement behind him and inwardly slinging out curses. 

Because waking him up is one thing. 

But if anyone disturbs Taehyung he’s gonna give them hell—

Min Yoongi: Incoming Call

Shit.

Jimin yanks the covers off, rushing out of bed and snapping Tae awake anyway. For what? Don’t fucking know, but they’re ready. Wherever. Whatever. They already stayed up clutching their phones until they physically couldn’t keep their eyes open. 

Because as much as Yoongi assured him nothing would happen, Jimin still couldn’t let go of his car keys.

Answering slow, he feels his chest winding and winding, eyes locked with Taehyung while they both wait on edge, “…Yoongi?”

“Yeah.”

Thank the fucking stars. 

Yoongi’s okay. He’s on the line. He made it to morning or whatever fucking time it is, and he’s doing exactly what he said he would.

And it’s enough, enough, enough.

Burns zing up the corners of Jimin’s eyes, and he swipes hard as Taehyung moves, likely to hear what’s happening and even more likely to just be by his side. 

Jimin is grateful for either one. But he tries to keep composure as he croaks, “You better have woken me up for a reason.”

The slight hum on the line induces a wobbly smile. “You slept?”

“Fuck you,” Jimin shakily laughs, wiping liquid relief from an eye before Taehyung’s thumb brushes tenderly over the other. His gaze is thankful while continuing, “We did but not much.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Sniffling, Jimin walks to Tae’s door, letting him into the hallway first and finally drinking in the sight of his ass in those sweats. Because he can finally function like a normal, smitten loser again. “We’ll come over so we can—”

“No need.”

“What?” Nope. Back to panic mode. And judging from his boyfriend’s posture, Taehyung has backpedaled into that, too. “What do you mean no need?”

There’s a slight pause on the line, and small noises make their way through the speaker. It sounds like bedsheets, but it also sounds like… 

“She’s still sleeping.”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

A tidal wave of relief crashes into Jimin’s ducts as he hangs his head, palming his face caught in a heavy tide of emotion. When he turns, Taehyung fairs no better, his eyes red and fingers wiping at a perfect, perfect cheek. One of them sniffles, but Jimin can’t tell if it’s him or not, because his vision is blurry and his heart is beating, beating, beating again. 

Whether you know it or not, whatever you did last night may have just changed Yoongi’s entire life.

Because Jimin knows this man through and through. Years of picking up his habits and tells didn’t amount to nothing. It’s how he was able to sense exactly when to intervene, and how he knew exactly what that hauntingly hollow tone in Yoongi’s voice meant when he busted in that day. 

The tone he hears now? The man that just spoke on the line? 

That is a Min Yoongi so in love he can’t even hide it over the phone. 

Fuck. 

Gathering himself, Jimin squeaks out, “I… I’m glad you…” What the fuck does he say? Every thought jams in his throat so hard he has to hand the phone off.

Thankfully, Taehyung perfectly continues his thoughts, voice scratching rocks under a waking river, “We’re glad you’re both safe.”

“Mm.”

“So when’s the wedding?”

Jimin huffs through a fresh batch of tears, clearing his face before grinning at Tae very seriously awaiting an answer. Honestly, at this point? It’s not far-fetched. Jimin’s seeing your future clearer than his present, and maybe he will be a fun uncle sooner than he thinks.

If only Yoongi would just get the fucking talk with your brother over with. 

But Jimin understands the hesitation. If he were in that same position, there’s no telling when he would be courageous enough to stand up to the guy. There’s a reason he’s quick to command a room, and his lifelong mission to protect his younger sister made him grow up a lot faster than everyone else. 

Still… Yoongi just deserves to be happy. And you’re the very obvious answer to helping with that. 

As much as he may have wanted some chances of his own, Jimin is grateful you found your way into his best friend’s heart. Not just anyone is invited inside, and even less people can truly be allowed to stay. 

And you’re probably the only one that has permanent residence. 

“You guys should get some sleep.”

Taehyung pouts right on cue, and Jimin can’t fight those sleepy, droopy eyes. “You didn’t answer me.”

Cute as fuck! He must be stopped. Taking the phone, Jimin speaks into the line fully recovered, shooting his cheeky partner a teasing glare, “We will if you get some, too.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Got some things to do at the studio—”

“No!” They reject together, both equally as appalled because what the fuck kinda answer is that? 

“After what happened last night? Are you crazy?”

“What happened to spending time with her? Men!” 

“He’s going on a business trip, I can’t lose to him.”

“So what?” Tae asks before they both share an even further confused look. Yoongi may be a lovesick fool but that doesn’t give him an excuse to be a dumbass! “You’re just gonna leave her alone?”

There’s a sigh on the line before Jimin plants a hand on his hip. “Not just that. You gotta rest, too, bro. If she doesn’t tell you to take it easy or at least get checked—which she will—we’re going over there to annoy you.” 

“You serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious.” Jimin cocks his head and leans closer to the phone. “At least rest easy for the next couple days. Especially if you have all this time to see each other.”

The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Your brother is leaving for his trip and Yoongi caught some unfortunate hits to his ribs. The dude basically has a free pass to spend the whole week with you, and he’s not even taking full advantage of it? Oh, the things Jimin has to say about the thin line of work ethic and relationship effort. 

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it for a long time,” Taehyung cuts in before Jimin can pop off, walking away into the living room. 

It’s fine. Let him figure out that you aren’t a woman he can just leave. Frankly? That would tickle Jimin to no end to see Yoongi folding his plans so fast just to be with you. 

But he spares him the tirade only because you’re fast asleep right next to him. “Thank you for calling, man.”

“Said I would.”

“I know.” 

Because above all else, Jimin is happy to hear that voice. Even if it’s obvious he’s a little banged up from last night, it’s still Yoongi. In one piece. That’s all Jimin wanted, and he can’t thank you enough,

“Don’t overwork yourself, and stay with her as long as you can.”

There’s a small laugh on the other end. “I plan on it, Chim.”

And Jimin catches on to why. “I’m holding you to that then.” 

—

—

Dawn breaks through open blinds, stretching its orange tint across a clean, spotless table. 

You don’t know what got you up so early. But when you peer into the kitchen, you tell yourself you woke up right on time. 

Because seeing Yoongi when you’re wide awake is better than any dream you’ll ever have.

Not because of his appearance, even though the sight of him sends a pang through your chest. No. It’s the way he’s quietly prepping a morning meal, using the arm on his better side that’s not sporting a nasty hit to the ribs, without you even asking. 

Bits of sunlight dance right out of your eyes.

The effort. The consideration. This man shouldn’t be lifting a finger, yet here he is cooking before you even left his bed. Isn’t this the same man that got caught up in a fight hours ago? Isn’t this the same man you almost walked out on with a frozen heart? 

Yes. But he’s also the same man that loves you. And you still can’t grasp that concept in any of the fingers playing with his tee you borrowed.

“Hi,” you whisper, telling him a thousand things. 

To which he regards before smiling soft, voice travelling over linoleum and circling around your heart, “Morning, doll.”

Damn. You hear it. Yoongi’s sore as hell. 

But instead of getting into that right away, you silently take residence by his side. Because this moment feels too delicate, and you admire his willingness to take care of you unprompted. You didn’t even know you’d eat before going back home. 

With a hand warming his back, you wait until Yoongi’s done tossing food on the stove to peck his morning-chilled cheek. “Thank you for cooking,” you murmur, admiring those beautiful brown eyes. “Sleep okay?”

“Cus of you,” your lover softly responds, eyeing your lips before gliding back up to your gaze. “You?”

Ugh. He’s gotta know those glasses are so unfair. They’ve gotten you repeatedly before, and they’re certainly getting you now. 

But you can’t help but deflate at the cuts behind those rims, while knowing there are even more bruises hiding underneath his oversized tee. How is Yoongi cooking right now? How is he even awake? “Same.” 

“Good.” 

These instant, deep shivers at his deeper morning voice will never, ever go away. But anything you wanna do about them isn’t important right now. Right now, you need to make sure Yoongi is either okay, or finds a way to get better. 

Sliding your hands down the slopes of his chest, you delicately rest one on his ribs. “Does it still hurt?” 

Yikes. That wince is enough. But Yoongi doesn’t shy away from your touch, and you appreciate the way he stays honest. “It’s sore. But I should be good.”

“You gonna get it checked?”

There’s a slight upward tilt of his lips. “Not right now.” At least the honesty persists, as much as you don’t want him following the typical manly response to hospital visits. “But I will if you want me to.”

“Please go,” you gently urge, lest you disturb the soft morning dew before it melts with the sunrise. “For me?”

Only sizzles from the stove fill the space until Yoongi nods, and his voice is just as low and tender, “I’ll go after work.”

Oh. “You’re working today?”

Just like breakfast, you didn’t expect this, either. Frankly, you figured neither of you were gonna even think about work, much less go. Sure, he’s due a hospital visit and you owe some friends immediate explanations for your absence. But other than that, shouldn’t Yoongi be resting? 

Does his craft truly mean that much? 

Well, shit. You gotta respect his work ethic, that’s for damn sure. Because you would sequester yourself to your bedroom and have endless dates with your television if you were sporting a good jab or two. This music thing must mean more to Yoongi than you previously thought. And who are you to step on that dream? 

Suddenly, all thoughts and concerns flee from the kiss on your cheek. 

“I’ll stay if you stay,” he says, turning to move the pan and scrunching his face with a grunt. Fuck. 

“I…” Shit, you were gonna go back to the house anyway. And from Yoongi’s smartass smirk, you can tell he already knew that. “Just need to check on him, too. And he doesn’t have a car right now, so. I should at least give him a ride.” 

“Figured.” In a move so domestic your head spins, Yoongi turns your body and gently pats your butt. “Now go sit. Let’s eat and figure this out.” 

—

—

As you devour a flawless meal and clean your dishes, you plan out the day. You’ll head home and check on your brother while Yoongi heads to the studio, and then you’ll rendezvous with your friends to hang out until he’s done with work. They’re already lighting up your phone like no one’s business—especially Yuri. 

Yoongi flicks the sink off before you both head to his bedroom, and you melt at the way he slowly wraps his arms around your front halfway there, all four of your legs slowing to close the rest of the distance. 

What’s he doing? This is joyfully new, but you have a pretty tight deadline. Warming his forearm and your own cheeks, you chuckle out, “We have to hustle, old man.” 

“You hustle me all the time,” he accuses into your shoulder blade, kissing its ridge and making you reconsider walking out the door entirely. “Lemme have this.” 

Your second laugh is more subdued, and you’re right between his bed and desk when you lift both hands to hold him close. “You have everything I got,” you wisp into his skin, planting your lips once, twice before you feel his arms press further in. “So this is nothing.” 

Seconds and silence slide by, the delicate veil of early morning still hovering around the room. When Yoongi doesn’t say anything, you make to turn and face him. 

But you’re stopped before your heart skips. 

“I could stay like this all day,” he admits, voice so low it rumbles through your bones. “And it’d be perfect.” 

“What, you don’t wanna see my face?” You joke with a giggle. “Rude, but that’s fine.” 

Yoongi only buries his nose further, his glasses sliding against your skin peeking from his shirt. “I’m much braver right here, doll.” 

Oh. 

The leap your heart does is more of a dive, plummeting into the seafoam swirling around your feet. All the words you want to respond with jump off right after, leaving you with nothing but the clouds in your eyes. 

You don’t quite know what he means by that. But it feels like those six words hold the weight of a thousand, so you simply let another kiss on his smooth forearm linger. “Do you want me to go with you?” 

A puff of laughter warms you right through and, despite his earlier admission, Yoongi does slowly spin you around. 

And when you follow, you realize you’re much braver when you aren’t facing him, too. 

“It’s not that, babe,” he says through a dashing curve. “But the offer was cute.” 

“I take it back then.” 

“Damn!” 

Both of your laughs whoosh out and collide, sweeping as Yoongi pinches your side and you flinch towards the bed. “You fucker—!”

Before you know it, your back hits a comforter before a weight presses your stomach, emotions clashing as you’re elated and shy and immediately concerned for your boyfriend’s side. “Baby, be careful—”

Lips capture yours, sucking up your warning before a hand slides under your head. Sighing, you arch into his chest, feeling the weight of his chains slip across your breasts. 

Euphoria isn’t an adequate enough word to describe how you feel. Where there used to be flutters in your ribcage now reside strong, powerful wing beats, gusts of want and desire lifting you off the ground and launching you into clear skies. Starlight of every color exists within each kiss you share, and your fingers feebly grab his tee to keep you from falling back down to earth. 

“If we don’t go now,” Yoongi rasps before sliding his mouth against yours, “We’re never going anywhere again.” 

“I know,” you whisper, willingly letting him kiss you once more, “Is that a promise?” 

“Fuck, I wish.” 

You do, too. But you know you’re running out of time for what you need to do. And weren’t you just saying you had to respect his aspirations? Shit, you really do need to snap out of it. “Come on,” you order with a pat to his chest. “We have all week to do this. We got time.” 

Turns out, you’re still amongst the heavens. The way Yoongi’s looking at you? This is the closest you’ll ever get to being held by an angel. 

Did he get more handsome overnight? Or is it the light in his eyes sustained since his confession in the kitchen? You don’t quite know, and you may never pinpoint why, but the tug he has on your heart spans space and time. 

And you’ll run through both forever to keep meeting him again and again. 

Burns prick your eyes, but he mercifully stands before he can catch any evidence of your yearning. 

Just like that, the two of you bounce back to getting ready, with him sliding notebooks and headphones in a backpack while you change into your own clothes. As you sling your bag over a shoulder, he reaches for the closest hoodie, and you wordlessly make your way to the front door. 

You really do hope he gets looked at today. But just like the calm after a storm, you want to encourage him gently rather than shove him out. At least he seems receptive to your gentle suggestions.

But after you ask one more time and he simply nods, you lower your eyes to his kicks. “Sorry if I’m nagging. I’d just worry less if you went right away, that’s all.”

“You aren’t nagging, babe.” Your freshly bloomed lover reaches out to hold your wrist, smoothing a rough thumb over your skin. Fucking hell, you can’t help but frown at the gashes and cuts marring his knuckles. “I’ll go as soon as I can.”

Not just his hands, but his face. His ribs. And maybe other places you haven’t even seen yet. 

You don’t wanna leave his side. 

But you have to head out before your brother leaves. Things need to get patched up before he flies out into more stress, and you owe him an apology for walking out when he was still aching. Based on Yoongi’s physical state? Your brother could be hiding some big wounds and you didn’t even wanna talk to him. 

However. Was last night necessary? Absolutely. You cannot entertain the possible outcomes had you not tried hard enough to get through Yoongi’s door. His eyes were so dulled, his hands felt so cold. What would have happened if you didn’t force yourself inside? 

Why was that guitar smashed to pieces? 

This is also why you refuse to leave. So many questions, so many things you still don’t know. Like what all happened when you were separated? And how in the hell is this man in love with you?

“I don’t wanna go,” you confess, instantly encased in his arms and warmth. “I’d much rather keep kissing you.” 

“True,” he says with a resigned huff, shifting his glasses with an adorable nose scrunch. If only he didn’t have so many little red lines of conflict on his face. “But we both have stuff to take care of, so let’s get all that done first.”

“Ugh, fine.” Your groan is more teasing than serious, and Yoongi’s laugh is nothing but understanding. 

Damn. You still feel it. You really don’t wanna go. Be it the rawness of last night still on your skin, or the confessions still on your tongues, you just wanna stay by his side. “Sorry,” you breathe out, lacing your fingers to pepper love along his strong, reddened ridges. “I’m serious. I don’t wanna leave you right now.”

Walking out of Yoongi’s door just doesn’t feel right. Even if he’s right there and will be following you out. Is this feeling normal? Are you supposed to feel this tightly woven to someone? Because the stitching between your hearts has only gotten stronger in the tempest of last night, as if you bonded together just to hold on for dear life. 

Maybe that’s exactly what happened. And it’s exactly why you can barely take one step out of his place. 

“Then don’t.”

Not one second passes before your chin is held, and lips slide so tenderly across yours that they may as well melt into your touch. Your reaction is quickly swooped into his mouth, and everything falls away as you let him seize your every thought. Lightning from last night zips out of your limbs, your toes, your fingers clasping his loose tee. 

You might just cry where you stand.

How have his kisses gotten even better? How have you never felt this way even though you’ve done this far more times than you were ever supposed to? It should be impossible, and yet, this man finds even more ways to astound you. 

Yoongi slips a hand over your cheek, giving one more beautiful push of his lips as he confesses, “I don’t wanna leave you, either.” 

And your breath stutters onto his features. “You, too?”

Slow, he kisses your cheek, the clear rim of his specs skimming your nose. When he draws back, you look right into his eyes, wondering why he’s watching your mouth instead. 

“Me, too.” Yoongi kisses your other side with a quiet peck. “Fuck, me, too.” 

You fucking hate what you have to do, but you don’t have a choice. 

With one last lingering kiss, you both gather enough courage to set out and do what you must. 

—

—

Your house is already a flurry of activity as you enter to see your brother in the kitchen, packing his leather duffle that’s a constant companion on his trips. 

Of course. The memory of him purchasing the lavish accessory pops into your head every time you watch him scurry around, dimples ever present on his proud cheeks. It’s almost enough to make you smile yet again. 

But you can’t when the same face is currently scratched to hell. Just like Yoongi’s, if not worse. 

Fuck, is he really gonna travel looking like that? 

“Hey,” he rasps out, still fighting off slumber. “You’re back earlier than I thought.” 

“Wanted to check on you before we left.” Fuck, your voice sounds like it’s being forced through a clogged pipe. Loosen the hell up! “And dude. Put some bandaids on, yeah?” 

“Yeah, just give me a sec. Making sure I have everything before my ride gets here.” 

“Huh?” He got a ride? You’re here now so you can take him to the airport. “You sure you don’t need me to drive you?” 

“Yeah, it’s all good. I didn’t know you were coming back.” 

Shit. His body seems just as angular as it did last night. Which, quite frankly, could still be from what went down in the lot. 

Because even though you see both men banged up, you suddenly realize you don’t actually know what all transpired. 

After all, there wasn’t much talk of it after you walked into the tempest of Yoongi’s living room.

Of course, you aren’t gonna bring it up just this second. There are other things to ask about and make sure of first. “Wallet? Phone? Passport?” 

“Yup, yup, uhh.. Yup.” 

Zippers sling in the quiet morning air as you continue, “And you’re coming back on Friday, right?”

“Oh.. Nah.” When you start crossing the kitchen, your brother hauls his leather bag over his better shoulder. Honestly, no one would be able to tell the other one’s bruised with his suit on. That thing damn well covers everything except the cuts on his face and hands. “Saturday.” 

You pause in your journey to the medicine cabinet. “Wait.. Saturday? The release party’s on Friday.”

“Yeah.. I know.”

What the fuck? That’s bullshit they’re keeping him longer than they have to. Struggling to understand how corporate can keep your brother on a leash and get away with it, you urge, “Tell them to at least let you go home a day early. Don’t you wanna support your friends?”

“You mean Yoongi?”

A zing of terror zips through your eyes, freezing every vein in an instant. 

The fuck was that question? Never mind. Stay calm stay calm stay fucking calm. “Uhh, yeah, he’s one of them? But the other guys, too, right? I know you care about them and this is huge.”

Mercifully, your sibling just shakes his head and waves you off. “Don’t you think I already tried? I don’t wanna miss it but I don’t have a choice. Conference schedule is pretty tight and I’m heading the panel on Friday.”

“Is it in the morning? You can fly out after—”

“Why are you fighting so hard?”

“Why aren’t you fighting harder!”

Okay, what in the hell is happening right now? Screw optics and how this must look for you, your brother needs to be there. Him and Yoongi are the tightest of friends, the most ride or die duo you’ve ever seen. You can’t picture a timeline where he misses this monumental moment, and it’s starting to really upset you that he’s barely trying. 

“You think I’m not fighting for it?”

“I certainly don’t think you’re trying enough—”

“Alright, you know what?” Hard steps surge forward as you stand rigid, a duffle hastily dumped onto tile. “You don’t know what I’ve tried. You don’t even know if I even told him yet.”

Fucking shit. You hold his stare before turning away, tossing out the idea of bandages entirely and searing footsteps into the hallway—

“Or do you.”

Before icing over with the unforgiving frost of zero gravity space. 

Slow, you turn, not quite facing him but not backing down, either. “…Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You talkin’? What else has he been doing to you?”

Oh. Fuck that. 

Doing to you? 

Fuck all of this. This is too much to handle right now and you know you’re gonna snap if he keeps pushing because you are not having this conversation right before he leaves. You’ve already thought about this before, right? You cannot fuck with his head right before business trips because he needs to be on and locked in. 

But now he’s fucking with your temper and those are some choice fucking words pulled out of his ass. 

You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately threatened this man to his face and meant it before, and it tears a sharp corner of your heart, “You better be very careful. With whatever you wanna say next.”

The air proves too thick to slice. While your body stands aflame, your brother is iced over, brimming with an energy that damn near takes physical form. “All I’m saying is? I find out some fucking bullshit is going on—”

No no no, not now.

Reacting fast is your only instinct, brain haywire and fizzling fizzling boiling. Harsh, you spin on your heel and shout the first thing you can think of, “Oh, come on—”

“You better hope to god you’re ready for what’s coming—”

“Stop!” Fuck fuck fuck, this is so frustrating because your head is exploding and your body is screaming to just tell him already. Fuck the consequences at this point this is ludicrous. 

Doing to you? Yoongi? How dare he speak about his best friend like that how dare he accuse him without outright saying the words all you have to do is tell your brother how wrong he’s got it. 

But you can’t be the one. Yoongi said he would, and he probably took months to get to that point of strength—and healing, from what you can tell. 

This is between them. Them. You have to honor that, as much as you wanna just confess everything now and deal with it yourself. 

But goddamn your brother is pulsing with anger and it’s leaking into your own charged air. 

What does he think is happening? Does he think Yoongi’s just, what, playing you? He’s wrong. He’s so wrong. Yoongi’s been nothing but the best thing that’s ever happened to you and shit your heart hurts because…

Your brother is valid in thinking that. 

How foolish. Didn’t you guard your heart from Yoongi for the longest? Didn’t everything start because you figured you knew who he was because of his reputation? You got him all wrong, too. So how can you be mad at your brother for doing the same? 

Fuck, think. Just think before someone gets hurt. 

Because if you aren’t careful, someone—or multiple someones—will get hurt in seconds. You have to bear the pain alone right now. To protect them both, you have to keep your trembling mouth shut. 

And? You have to admit that something isn’t fair here. Not to you, not to Yoongi, but to him. Last night was rough as fuck but, while you both got to have raw, beautiful closure, the one standing in front of you had to go to sleep in an empty house. 

So chill the fuck out. 

Breathing to cool down, you tense and loosen, tense and loosen. “I get it. You’re angry, and you have a lot going on. But,” you bite down on your lip to keep going. “We’re talking about something else. We’re talking about you, and I’m still pissed you even let those guys goad you into a fight. What are we, twelve?”

Seething, your sibling takes the switch of pace. But it is not what you want to hear. “Are you seri—? What the hell was I supposed to do? That son of a bitch grabbed you—”

“I know,” you recoil. “Don’t tell me like you were there, because you weren’t.”

Finally—finally—those angry lines in his face vanish. 

But they make way for something much worse than anger. Because your older brother, someone that’s been there for you your whole life.. 

Looks absolutely stricken over the one time he wasn’t. 

Damn it. 

Regretful, you drop your shoulders in exhaustion and quiet compromise. When you continue, your voice is much softer, “But I told you: they were. Your friends, they were there because they knew you wanted that. Jimin got me away, Yoongi took me home and stayed.” 

You really have got to stop saying his name like you love him. It could start becoming too obvious. 

Shuddering, you shift your weight, folding your arms and shrinking into yourself. 

That night, despite Yoongi’s best and most gentle efforts, still clings to where that loser touched you at Dalo. You hate that you haven’t gotten over it, and you loathe the way you still rub over the same spot. Over, and over. “What did you want him to do? Leave me here?”

“No.” 

“Exactly. And he didn’t.” You adjust your stance again, making an impromptu gamble as you decide to let some truth leak out. Because your brother is owed at least this much. “And fine, you wanna know something? We do talk more because of it.”

Your brother’s head snaps up, and you brace. Because if you show any shred of weakness or hesitation, he’ll see right through your weak attempt to hide most of the truth, 

“But don’t ever accuse him of doing anything to me. That was fucked up to say and you know it.”

“Fuck.” In agreement, he rubs his hair back. “It was. I’m sorry.” 

“Trust me,” you swallow, hating that this is how things have to be for now. “You have nothing to worry about. He’s never.. Never done anything to me, anyway.” 

It’s not a lie. Everything he’s done has been with you. For you. Because of you. 

But your heart’s in anguish as it sinks. Because that expression on your older sibling’s face can only be one thing.  

Pure. Utter. Relief.

Fire singes your eyes before you can quell the flame. It’s the hardest technical truth to swallow. 

Sure, he doesn’t have anything to worry about as far as you being safe. And on top of that, he doesn’t have to worry about any fake shit because Yoongi confessed to you last night.

But as far as his best friend sleeping with and now dating his sister behind his back? That is still very much sitting right in the center of the table. 

And now you’re starting to see just how fucked all three of you are as soon as you sit down to eat the truth. 

But Yoongi said he’d be the one to tell, so he will. 

This feeling is so fucking miserable, though. 

In the end, your brother is effectively convinced, raking a hand across his head and sighing. “Jimin told me what all went down at Dalo, I just… Last night was… Fucked up.” 

“Well, yeah.”

“No. See, this is just like what you said to me. You can’t say it like you were there.”

It’s your stomach’s turn to twist. “So? You were scratched and bruised to hell, and Y…” Shut up, shut up. You’re not supposed to know about the state of anyone else. “And you were… quieter.”

“Because of what happened, dude.”

You blink. “What… What happened?”

Your brother looks at you—really looks at you. 

And suddenly, your gut flares in terror, storming in an instant across your abdomen. 

“That bitch pulled something on us.”

Your heart. 

It’s in freefall.

“Wait… What?” You can’t even form more than one syllable at a time, your legs turning gelatinous and knees starting to give out. “No… What are you…?”

What the fuck did he just say? That bitch pulled a what? 

Your sibling slowly walks toward you once again, watching like he’s just waiting for you to say anything. Do anything. 

But you’re a complete statue because all you can think about is the horror of something happening and the relief that nothing happened all at once. 

Was Yoongi too scared to mention that part? Is this why he was holding back and shaking every time he reached out to touch you? Even this morning, he was so… 

You’ve never seen him like that. Is this why? 

Your mind is swirling and crashing, overlapping each passing thought and scream running through your head. “I’m so sorry,” you hitch out, “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t wanna scare you,” he sighs out. Putting both hands on his hips, your brother stops feet away, visibly still shook as he pierces wooden planks with his stare. “But he pulled it right before Yoongi… and if it weren’t…Fuck.” 

Burns flare and slice through your eyes when he has to pause. What is he trying to say? Pulled what? 

Before Yoongi what? 

Your brother continues, and your throat tightens. “If it weren’t for some random ass sirens, I… Things could’ve been so different.” 

What the fuck is happening. What the hell are you hearing? 

“It was probably dumb as fuck. But I was so fucking angry,” he grits out, watery eyes crushed looking your way. “So fucking mad at how he was talking about you, I.. Walked right up to him and told him to fuck off.”

You can’t even breathe. 

“I still feel it,” he quietly adds, fingers pressed against his side. “Right here.” 

“Fuck,” you finally choke out, eyes on fucking fire. 

“But all I knew was to keep you all safe,” he says, with hardened resolve and a wobbly chin. “And that’s exactly what I did. I did that shit, even if that meant—” 

Tears fling out of your eyes, flowing hot down your cheeks because you wouldn’t want any of them to go out that way. Nothing happened nothing happened nothing happened and yet your body is acting as if something did and it hurts. 

Your brother is there as soon as you crumple forward, letting you bury your head in his chest and sob your heart out. For him, for his friends, and for all the time you had with the man you love so, so dearly. 

If anything happened to your brother before you came clean… If anything happened before you and Yoongi could even… 

Suddenly, you feel equal weights of guilt. For running out on your brother. And for almost walking out on Yoongi. 

You decide an apology is in order for both of them, and all the understanding in the world for Yoongi’s frosted demeanor as soon as you get him alone again.

And you are one hundred percent going to tell your brother everything once he’s back. 

The tears cannot stop, and you’re sure you are crying unimpeded in a pressed and primmed suit. “I’m so sorry,” you keep repenting like a prayer. “This is all my fault.”

“No—”

“You almost—”

“Hey, stop.” He yanks you back, both of your faces soaked with saltwater. “What did I say before? I threw the first swing. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But it led to all this, I just.. I just feel so fucking stupid.”

“Don’t. Hey, look at me.” Firm but gentle, he holds you at arm’s length, forcing you to face him. “Maybe we’re both stupid, but you weren’t the idiot. I was.” 

You feel so many conflicting things in your soul. 

What would you have done if Yoongi was in critical condition? What would you have done differently if your brother was instead? Are they the same? Are the two situations really so different anymore? 

No they aren’t they aren’t they aren’t. 

“Please don’t do that again,” you shake out. “Even if it was for me, if I ever lost you, I...” 

“You know I can’t promise anything.” He furrows his brows when you eye him with anger and sadness. “But nothing like that is happening again. Especially with the same dudes.” 

“Okay.” 

A vicious tornado of emotions sends your whole body into agonizing pain. This isn’t what you expected at all, and it’s causing your limbs to lock at the bends. Too many scenarios are jangling about yet you can’t ask for specifics because that will just make it even more real. 

A nightmare is somehow better once you know it ends with you waking up. “I’m… gonna need some time to process everything.”

“I know. And I wasn’t planning on saying anything, but… You deserve to know the things I get into.” 

Ah. 

The irony is not lost on you. 

“At least, if they involve you. We learned our lesson. You were right to tell us off.”

God. You feel numb. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, suddenly immensely tired. “I think I need more sleep.”

A blaring honk sounds outside the house, and you both flinch at the noise. 

And your throat burns at the way your brother instinctively swept you behind his back. 

When you realize what it is, you know what has to come next. 

And he’s the first to react as he turns to face you again, “Alright. I’m heading out, just remember to go get my baby when she’s fixed, yeah?”

“Do you have to go?”

Wait.

The question seems to startle him as much as it does you. 

How did you blurt it right out before even registering the words? Why does your heart clench at the sight of those eyes looking so pained? 

Why does everything feel so shaky within these walls that were always your home?

“I do,” he says, voice tight. “I’m sorry.” 

And why the fuck do you feel sad he’s leaving?

“No, no, it’s.. Of course you have to.” You can’t help the lump in your throat from bobbing, the regret in your limbs as they barely move at your side. “I dunno why I asked, I guess I just..” 

There’s no response to your sniffle. 

“Sorry for yelling,” you squeak out. “I just feel really queasy.”

For a lot more reasons than one.

“We all made it out,” your brother whispers. “That’s what matters.”

“Will you… Will you at least try to be back for the party?”

The man swallows with his brows knit tight, then attempts to crack the tiniest smile. “You know I will. That’s my guy.” 

“Okay.” You nod, sniffling again. After what he just told you? You know he’ll do anything for the ones he loves. “See you there.”

Your brother rubs a comforting palm over your head before turning, heading for the door and grabbing his leather duffle. 

When he stops to glance at you one more time, you give a little wave of your hand before watching the door click shut. 

Chest caving as you collapse to the ground in tears. 

—

—

The need to call Yoongi burns so harshly your fingers damn near set your top aflame.

But he’s at work, and you can’t fuck things up right when you’re approaching the finish line. You almost did with your brother, and that gave you twelve heart attacks in the span of minutes. 

Still. Your chest aches so much that a thirteenth could very well be approaching. You don’t even realize you’re bracing the hallway wall for support until you try to stand, back sore and aching from bending so far for so long. 

What did your brother mean to say about Yoongi? What did that coward pull on them? Do you even want to know what happened? 

Fighting back tears, you reach down for your phone, shakily typing out a message only to erase it. Then again. And again. 

And again. 

Giving up, you forcefully swallow all your worries, cringing at the bitterness of the unknown and the burnt molasses of hidden truths. 

It’s going to be okay. No matter what you think or imagine in your head, they made it out, they made it out, they are all alive. 

That’s the only reason you can move forward, each step getting you from your room. To your bathroom. 

And back again. 

—

—

After showering, you feel lighter and refreshed, though the soreness between your legs has yet to leave. 

But you wouldn’t want it any other way, as it’s another reminder of Yoongi’s apparent brush with survival. His broken living room spurned the creation of your bond, your devotion to him as he confessed before you gave him your utmost trust in his sheets. 

The end is so close. As soon as this week is over, you’ll rip the last bit of peel from your pair of tangerines, baring all truths to your brother and facing the consequences. 

Finally ready, you head to your car, opening your text threads with a plan: start slow. 

Start with something that can be interpreted neutrally if anyone saw it on his phone screen, especially if your headstrong ex is in the room. 

You [12:31pm]: how are you feeling?

Yoongi [12:34pm]: 1 Attachment 

You close your door with brows furrowed. 

Yoongi’s at the hospital? 

That’s not what you expected at all. 

Your chest swells with relief knowing he’s there, but you also wanna make sure he’s feeling okay. Especially his mental state after whatever the fuck your brother just dropped on you before leaving. 

Goddamn, that’s going to gnaw at your brain until you find the right time and right amount of courage to ask about it. Because it’s very possible Yoongi won’t tell you. 

Because it’s probably something he knows you won’t like. 

Fuck. 

You [12:34pm]: Loved an Attachment

You [12:34pm]: thank you for listening🤍 still sore?

Yoongi [12:35pm]: Yeah, but not bad. Just there.

Wait. He’s not at the studio. That means you can—

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you slowly say as you pull out into the street. “I’m driving now so this is easier.”

“Course. You going to Tae’s?”

“Maybe. I’m going to Yuri’s first.” You swallow, realizing that you didn’t tell him about what you let slip before driving over. “I.. Told her. About you.”

There’s a little bit of silence on the line, just some adjustments and muffled speaker sounds. “Sorry, just writing this down. What’s wrong with that?”

You huff through your nose. Gotta be those patient forms that always take forever to fill out. “Oh. Just more and more people knowing, is all.” 

“Everyone’s gonna know eventually.” 

You hold back a small smile. Because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m just tired of this feeling.”

“Like you’re hiding something.”

It’s your turn for silence. He doesn’t know how accurately that was played out today. The only answer you can provide is a curt, “Exactly.”

“Same.”

Wings beat around your heart again. 

He wants this. Yoongi really, really wants this. And years ago, that outcome wouldn’t have even crossed your mind as an option. 

“Thank you for going, baby.”

“The guys made me.”

You hum. “Which ones.”

After a pause, you hear a puff of amusement. “All of them at some point today, actually.” 

All of them? Does that include your brother? Did they talk about the trip already?

Your laugh is bittersweet. “Well. Glad to know you can be forced by everyone else except me.”

“Hey, I was already gonna go because of you!” Yoongi quietly retorts, and you giggle at the pout in his words. “Just wanted to get a headstart on work first.”

You were right. He really does wanna go all out for his musical endeavors. 

It’s extremely admirable, and wildly attractive, but it does come to a point. “As much as I love your passion, old man, I wanna keep you upright.”

He laughs soft into the line, and you think you can listen to that specific sound on an infinite loop. “That’s fair.” 

“How long is it gonna take, you think?”

“Dunno. But I’ll keep myself busy until I’m out.”

Of course he will. You don’t doubt he won’t waste any time. Didn’t he bring journals in his backpack? You wouldn’t be surprised if he wrote ten thousand songs before being called in. “Just call me if you need anything, please?”

“Of course, babe.”

“Thank you,” you say with utmost sincerity. “If only my brother would be less stubborn and get checked, too.”

“He’ll probably do it once he gets there.”

“Did you convince him?”

“Nah. But once he knows I did, he’ll do it.”

“Figures.” You scoff. “Okay, I’m almost there. Let me know how it goes.”

“K. Bye, doll.”

You didn’t ask him what went down. But it’s not the time nor place, and you have plenty of chances this week to figure out when that would be—if at all. 

“Talk soon.” 

—

—

For a normally bustling household, Yuri’s house is quiet. 

So it’s not shocking when you walk into the kitchen and see all your friends glance your way, slowly vacating their chairs with eyes never leaving your face. Even Reia is on high alert. 

Did Yuri tell her? Did Yuri tell anyone else? 

No. She’s a talker and loves spilling, but she promised. And when she promises something, you know you can trust her to keep it. 

It’s what pours emotion in your voice as you meekly greet, “Hey, guys—”

A crushing hug closes your throat. Yuri’s the one that gets to you first, with Reia and Dominique waiting their turns to offer you healing, relieved embraces. 

“What happened?” 

“Scared us half to death.”

Dom puts you at arm’s length to give a once over, noting your face rubbed raw and eyes still a little bloodshot. Thankfully, her pupils hold more concern than disappointment. “You good?”

Your eyes wobble alongside your smile, and you think it’s enough proof. “More than that,” you still decide to whisper, and your heart beats again at her reaction. 

“Thank god. I was ready to kick your ass if you weren’t.”

Heading up to Yuri’s room, you all wait until the door is swung back before mounting her canopy bed, sitting in a tight circle as you divulge everything. 

Well. Almost everything. 

You tell them that Yoongi is the one you’ve been seeing, how you went to check on him last night in a panic, and the terrifying reason why. When you mention the fight after the basketball game, all three of your friends erupt in questions, and you have to assure them everything turned out okay. Honestly, you also do this to assure yourself, too. 

“So… Your brother’s just fine with all of this?” Reia asks, not noticing the tick of Dom’s jaw. 

“Well,” you start with a higher pitch, earning a pair of groans. “He doesn’t exactly know yet—”

“Yup. He’s gonna murder him.”

“Yeah, should we say our condolences now or..”

“How long has this been going on?” Reia fires off another question that digs into your chest. “Was he the one you were seeing the whole time?”

“Yes,” you admit with a sigh. “I should’ve told you guys from the beginning, but. The whole thing just felt so delicate. But! We just started making things official recently, so..” 

Dom turns your way. “Official how?”

Well. Here goes everything. 

With a shaky breath, and lingering feelings from the time it happened, you reveal with watery eyes, “Yoongi… Told me he loves me.”

Both Yuri and Reia react in yelps, Dom’s gaze lowering as the girls reach to grab your hands. 

Wait. What’s going on with her? She’s the one that knows the most, she’s the one that covered for you all those months ago. She has to be the one that is the least surprised at all this. 

Blinking, you note to confront her about it later. Right now, you’re too focused on trying not to cry as your friends tumble out questions and support, 

“He said it? Did you say it first or did he?” 

“How did it happen! Oh, I’m so happy for you, babe—” 

“Thank—thank you, Yuri,” you squeeze out as she hugs you close. “I couldn’t believe it, but he just.. Said it. We weren’t even doing anything, I was just.. Looking up what injuries he could have..” 

And he confessed in the most Yoongi fashion he could have. 

Looking back, it shouldn’t shock you at all. He’s always found ways to sweep you off your proverbial feet, so why would a confession plucked from the heavens be any different? 

She lets you go before wiping her eyes, Reia and even Dom now sporting watery pupils, too. 

“As much as I’m upset at you for not telling us, I’ve never been so happy for you.” When Yuri’s features crease in another sob, you sniffle along with the rest. “It’s been so long since you… And you really.. Fuck.” 

You know what she’s trying to say, and the realization has your throat constricting so tight. 

It’s been forever since you’ve had something like this, someone like this. When you and Jungkook were together, you told him that you loved him before he broke it off. 

Sure, you bought the rings together, but he never uttered those words until years after when it didn’t even matter. And all your relationships after his were complete and utter bullshit, so you don’t think you ever even heard those three words and knew them to be true. 

Yoongi was the first to ever say them so sincerely. 

And that fact makes your ducts burn and burn. 

And when Yuri finally speaks, it breaks the dam holding your real deluge back, 

“I can’t think of anyone else that deserves to be loved more than you.” 

All at once, everything streams out as you hunch forward. The pain of everything you’ve endured, the hopelessness of knowing you’d most likely end up alone, the excruciating prospect of a future that you never deemed bright, or peaceful, or comforting. 

And to think that even this man could’ve been snatched away from you in a snap? Even more tears overlap with the ones you’re shedding, and you can’t even reach out to hug all three beautiful, angelic souls surrounding you with tight arms and sobs because your limbs lock at all bends. 

It’s the exact release you need. All your friends supporting you, all the pent up anxiety of last night and today, the truth setting itself free in some capacity—all in the comfort of a plushie-laden bed you only doubted yourself in last time. 

Everything’s gonna be alright. It has to be. You’re gonna fight for the ones you love, even if a war between them is inevitable. 

It takes a few minutes of heavy silence for you all to separate, swiping and rubbing tears while letting out happy sniffles. 

When you thank them for being understanding, they assure you it’s okay. And when you say you’re going to tell your brother soon, a force from the doorway has all of you leaping from lilac sheets, 

“Tell him what?” 

Jia stands firm with a laundry basket at her hip, and Yuri scoffs at her older sister for barging in. “A knock would’ve been nice!” 

Fuck! 

You can’t tell Jia of all people. If you spill anything about Yoongi, she’s one hundred percent going to tell your brother. They’re the same age, and run in pretty tight circles, so of course you are not going to risk it. 

But you can tell her something else you’re going to tell your older sibling, so you fire out a half-truth, 

“Tell him not to pick any other fights that could get him killed.” 

Jia’s eyes zoom to your wrecked face, and she drops the laundry with haste before asking, “What happened? When? Tell me now.” 

Huh. Maybe your brother has a type, if he’s still into Jia like he said before. 

You feel a little spark in your chest as you let her know they all got in a scuffle after the basketball game, and another pang as she immediately abandons the room and clothes with a fierce declaration, 

“I’m gonna kill them myself!” 

“Don’t worry, I already hounded my brother!” You call out after her, sighing as Yuri shakes her head with a smile. “She gets like that when she’s really worried, huh.” 

“Yeah..” Your friend leans to look around you, noticing the basket left alone on the ground. “And if she’s super fired up, she drops everything and doesn’t stop until it’s handled. Clearly.” 

Maybe both older siblings really are similar. 

The firestorm of an interruption seemed to break the tension in the room, with all of you finally relaxing and catching up. When they ask you questions, you answer what you can. 

And when you divulge information that has your ears burning, their squeals and yells give you whole new reasons to live. 

—

—

After a very comforting lunch Yuri’s mom cooked, you head to the bathroom when your phone suddenly vibrates through your palm.

Huh? That’s weird. You expect the name on your screen to be Taehyung, not Yoongi. 

Not that it’s a bad thing. You’ve been waiting to hear from him, so this is a pleasant surprise. 

Closing the door to the guest bathroom, you gaze at the calming sage decor with a smile. “Hi, how did it—”

“You’re coming over later, right?”

Oh, shit. Is he okay?

“Yes, baby,” you respond with a soothing lilt, ears perked and body on high alert. 

Does he think you aren’t anymore? You both decided on the plans earlier. Surely he knows you’d never just flake on him. “I’m coming back once you’re done with work, remember?”

There’s an uncomfortable pause on the line, which makes your boyfriend’s next question jab you so far in the lungs you can’t breathe,

“…Can it be now?”

Shit. 

Just like Jia earlier, you drop every plan you have to the wayside. You’re sure that Taehyung will understand, and you already got through the biggest conversation you needed to with your friends. 

“Of course,” you whoosh out. “Lemme just say bye and I’ll go.” 

“Take your time.” A small shuffling interrupts. “It’ll take me a bit to get back.” 

“Okay. See you there.” 

The strained urgency in his voice makes your hair stand on end, so you vacate the bathroom to inform the girls that you gotta go—but not without a quick head tilt towards Dom, who follows you outside and into the afternoon sun.  

—

—

You wait until you’re next to your car on the street, turning with a concerned expression and jittery nerves, “What’s up with you? Did I do something wrong?”

Turns out, you read Dominique correctly. Her jaw locks before loosening, and it reminds you of the time she confronted you about Yoongi before. God, how much has changed since then. That feels like ages and ages ago. 

“It’s not about you,” your best friend clears the air and the tightness in your shoulders. “I’m just.. Glad he came around.”

“Yoongi?” When Dom nods, you blink. “Wait, what?”

“At your house that night.. After he left your room, we had—I dunno, a heart-to-heart.” She sighs, flicking braids over her shoulder. You note to compliment the beads she chose this time, because they remind you of summer and simpler times. “I might’ve pressured him a bit, and.. I think he wanted to tell me that he loved you. All the way back then.” 

Something in your heart stutters, and you can only repeat your last question, “What?”

“Yeah. Something about needing to do something first,” she continues, holding your gaze with perfect brows furrowed in sunlight. “But I could tell he was damn serious about whatever it was. And if he was willing to do it for you? I let it go.” 

Your mind whirls. 

Yoongi was already in love with you back then? Is that why he needed to let you go? To deal with whatever he had to do? 

One side of you breaks thinking he had to go through all that alone; the other side is screaming at his past self for not even giving you a choice. What did he go through? What did he have to do?

Now you really have to see him. Immediately. 

“Thank you, Dom,” you rush out while opening your door. “I’m just happy it’s over.”

“The hell it’s not.” Shooting you a glare that heats the oncoming breeze, she reminds, “It’s not over until your brother knows. And based on everything that’s happened? That conversation is not gonna go over well.” 

A dark, simmering boil starts in your stomach, and you’re already feeling queasy again. Tightening your door handle, you gulp hard. “I know.” 

“Trust me, I’m happy for you both. I am.” Both hands find her hips as she levels a gaze that you really, really don’t enjoy. “But I’m gonna be honest, I think this is gonna ruin their friendship for good.” 

Both of your lungs clamp shut. 

“Please don’t say that,” you beg, “I’m gonna fight for all of us. I will.” 

“I don’t doubt that, babe. Hey, uh uh, come here.” Reaching out, she gives you a tight hug just when you feel fragile again. 

“Listen to me. I don’t doubt that,” she says into your shoulder. “I’m just here to be realistic. Just don’t be shocked if that’s how it goes. We’ll be here for you no matter what, too.” 

“Okay,” you say with a scrunched face into her scent. God, she always smells so good, and it’s almost enough to calm you down. Almost almost almost. “Thank you. But I’m not giving up.” 

“That’s my girl.” She squeezes you one more time. “I love you.” 

With eyes searing over, you choke and grip her tighter. “I love you, too.” 

—

—

Yoongi’s door warms your back as you wait for him to show. 

But there’s a good chance it can just be your volcanic anxiety. 

Ever since your arrival, you’ve paced, you’ve gnawed on your lips, you’ve had to shake the nerves out of your hands. 

And over and over, you’ve strained your neck to look for your favorite cat, because you could sincerely use even a glimpse of her right now. 

While she doesn’t end up showing, Yoongi rounds the nearest corner minutes after your last desperate scan. 

Fuck, he’s so handsome. 

Even now, as he simply walks toward you with a backpack slung over his shoulder, you watch with undying yearning to feel those flowing bangs over his forehead. You’d even settle for a single touch of his cheeks, one of them currently sporting a thin bandage.

But the closer Yoongi gets, the quicker your admiration morphs into concern. There’s a deep bend in his brows that you can’t decipher, and his fist is balled pretty tight. 

Seriously, what happened? He looks so troubled that you slowly push off the doorway to ask, 

“Baby, what’s—”

A bag hits the ground before you’re swooped into a kiss so electric your lips spark. 

Him. Him, him, and more him. For the love of everything you don’t understand what’s happening but you kiss Yoongi back with everything you have, arms slinging around his strong shoulders and tugging him closer because he clearly needed this. 

And fuck if you didn’t need it just as much. Screw it if anyone sees you. This is all you want and you’ll stay right here until he pulls away. 

When he finally does, both of you swallow to catch your breaths, and your soul glimmers when his forehead meets yours. 

“Hi, baby,” you whisper to his exhales. “Missed you, too.”

Silent, your lover kisses your forehead before hugging you close, and you’re more sure of your prediction than ever. Something is bothering him. 

He doesn’t look worse, at least. But there’s clearly something off and he’s not hiding it. His lack of words is loud enough. 

“Let’s go inside,” you quietly suggest. “I would’ve gone in already but I don’t have a key.”

He nods, fishing out his keyring to let you both inside. 

When you set your bags down and slip off your shoes, it’s only seconds before you’re softly pulled into a hug again, surprising yet so, so welcoming. 

Even only after a few hours, you’ve missed the fuck out of him. Which makes all of this an outright dream. 

“Sorry,” Yoongi finally murmurs against your shoulder. “I just…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You stroke a hand along his hair, massaging his scalp and loving how soft it feels. The windswept strands fall back into place as you keep running your fingers through. “Did you at least get your appointment?”

“Yeah, I did.” He buries his face further. “Nothing bad. Just can’t lift anything heavy for a couple days.”

“Good. That’s easy to manage,” you whisper back into his tee, feeling the chill of lingering air conditioning and body warmth all at once. “Is something else bothering you?”

“Not exactly.” Whatever that means. “I’ll tell you about it later. Just wanted this, and you.”

Oh. That’s… 

“I’m here now, love,” you assure with a melting heart, wondering what happened to cause this behavior. 

Is it because of last night? Or something that happened today? You’re anxious all over again, but from the way Yoongi’s acting, your worries are second to his. “Have you eaten yet?”

He shakes his head, only pulling you closer with not a word from his lips. 

And from this point on, you make a silent vow to yourself. Whatever Yoongi needs, you’re going to take care of him. 

No matter what, these next few days are all about him—a minuscule sacrifice in comparison to everything he’s done for you, whether you knew about it or not.

“I’ll make you something then. Come on.” 

When you walk, you slip your hand down his arm to hold his hand, and your lead into his kitchen is short. 

“Any requests?” You cheerfully ask as you spare a smile over your shoulder. “We can do… Something light…”

Only to see him staring back with nothing but a lingering sense of longing.

Okay. 

You need to get to the bottom of this now. 

Stopping right over linoleum, you leave no room for arguments, “Yoongi. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He blinks before his gaze meets the floor. So you’re confused when he simply, quietly.. 

Laughs? 

“It’s not that something’s wrong,” he slowly starts, a shy smile carving his features. “For the first time in my life, nothing’s wrong.” 

Your heart beats extra loud. 

“But it’s too much to explain right now.” His eyes rise to meet yours. “Just know that I’m so in love with you.” 

Oh.

“And I want you to know that every day I live.”

Fuck.

Your body responds before you can say anything, lips connecting to remove any need for speech. The knowledge of them all staring death in the face last night makes this confession sear your insides, and you can’t help but kiss him like you’ll never get to again. 

Yanking him back, you spin on your heel until he flings into the kitchen, clutching your wrists before gripping your jaw with both hands. 

His mouth heats on yours, his glasses the only barrier between your skin. Everything sizzles from your head to your toes, and you both bang into a countertop before—

“Fuck, ouch.”

“Shit, you okay?”

Yoongi rubs his side with one eye pinched shut, a corner of his teeth present. “Yeah. Worth it, though.”

“Be serious,” you reprimand. Looks like he’s gonna have to take it easy, which means no going at it like animals until he’s on the mend. “No more until you feel better, yeah?”

“Says who?”

“Babe.”

His deadly pout almost breaks your resolve. “Fine.” 

But you can wait. You’re sure it won’t take long, and for this man? You’ll wait however long you need to. 

Besides, there’s plenty of things you can do in the meantime that don’t require running into hard objects. 

“Good. Now let’s…” You turn away to get started before you’re held, and pulled back into yet another embrace. 

What the hell is happening today? Your lungs and your melting pile of a brain can only take so much. It’s beautifully overwhelming how Yoongi can’t seem to let you go, because you’re the one that always loses control. 

This whole time, it’s been you that can’t hold yourself back. 

So now? Being on the other side? You don’t think you ever want him to restrain himself again. 

This time, he moves slow. Sensuously slow, and it would occur to you that he’s finding a very cheeky loophole to your plan if you weren’t so hazy-eyed. 

Whatever Yoongi’s doing, you won’t stop him. 

Your back touches a counter before Yoongi cages you in, and your lips mold together as perfectly as his body does with yours. Your unhurried strokes match his, and your minds communicate without a single word. 

There’s yearning still ever present. But there’s comfort in abundance, and a whole new level of need. 

After he pulls away, you can visibly see him drink you in from head to toe. 

“You know.. I’m good holding off on all the other shit.” Pulling you in, his lips curve as he confidently declares, “But I’m never gonna stop kissing you.” 

His hands, his lips, his words. They all have healing powers, you’re so sure of it. If Yoongi hasn’t yet realized his unending pain has blossomed into a safe haven, you need to let him know no matter what, 

“Good.”

There’s still a pining in his eyes, but he lets you free, hand skirting your hip before he walks to his room. “Gonna change then I’ll help.” 

“You don’t have to, baby,” you say as you struggle to catch your breath. “I got it.” 

Three minutes later, he’s chopping an onion anyway. 

But you’re loving how serene everything feels with the two of you prepping and dicing, thumps of knives on wood intertwining in sound before you laugh at his crying over the pesky vegetable. Maybe if he wore contacts instead of specs, he’d be better off. 

Not that his choice of eyewear is what you’re complaining about. But those glasses paired with the cream tees he’s been wearing? There will be hell to pay as soon as you get a chance at revenge. 

Your pot is set to boil for a bit, so you finally rest against the counter and start a timer on his microwave. “Go ahead,” you gesture to your very handsome cooking partner. “You can sit now.”

“Huh? We’re not done yet.”

“Oh.” Blinking, you tilt your head in confusion because you could’ve sworn you heard him yawn a couple times. “You aren’t tired?”

“I am,” he says before squeezing his eyes, rapid blinks to follow. “But I’m fine here.”

You toss and turn the food around, sprinkling a little more seasoning and hearing the bubbles and fizzes. When you stir a little more, a sudden thought occurs, halting your movements and spinning you around, 

“Are you staying there to watch my ass.”

Yoongi’s slow smile gives everything away, but he also makes up for the blatant staring. 

“Can’t deny that’s one of the things.” Pushing off the sink, he stands right next to you, slotting a hand behind your neck and angling you for a kiss. “But I meant it earlier. I just…”

You’re completely silent as you watch him slide his eyes from your face to the sizzling food. Whatever he’s thinking about, you’re gonna give him all the room to talk. 

“Just like being where you are.” 

How you went from almost running out of his door to here, you aren’t quite sure. But you’re grateful for that split second of him deciding to fight for the two of you instead of against, because you really were going to leave. 

And you may have taken much, much longer to even try going back. 

Your voice is barely heard over the aromatic smell and fizzle, “Good thing I like having you around.” When he smiles again, you let out a breath of a giggle, going back to shuffling the pan around and tilting your head to the fridge. “I put some fruit in there if you wanna eat that, too.”

“I’m down.”

“K.”

Your food is ready soon enough, and the two of you eat while talking about easy topics. Like work and your workplace dynamics, what Yoongi’s team has been working on at the studio. 

At one point, your curiosity about the album release party grows from something he says. “Speaking of. The party’s on Friday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I thought so,” you deflate, setting your bowl down on the table. “Sorry he can’t go.”

“Huh?”

Your body stills. “Wait. Did he not say anything? About his trip being extended?”

So much for nothing in his life being wrong. From the lost look on his face, you may have given him another reason to fold back in on himself. “No.. No, he didn’t.”

Both of you sit in silence. 

This could be nothing. Right? That means your brother is confident he can make it so there’s no point in telling Yoongi he’s gonna miss it. Or maybe he’s not trying hard enough and then not being able to say it to his face? 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I thought he told you.”

“It’s okay.” Clearly it’s not. “Not much to do about it now.”

“Yoongi… What if he knows?” At your own question, you stiffen, curling into a proverbial ball. Fear and the sick backfire of fibbing has your mouth going drier than desert air. “What if he actually knows?”

Setting down his chopsticks, Yoongi looks your way, eyes unreadable behind his specs. “If he did, do you think he’d leave us alone?”

He’s got a point. “Guess not.” 

“Mm.” Flicking his eyes to the window, he adjusts uncomfortably in his chair. “And I dunno if I mentioned this, but.. He thinks I got back with my ex.”

“Fuck, really?” 

“That’s the real reason why he hasn’t been talking to me. Maybe he thinks she’s gonna be there on Friday.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders sag, and sag. Not owning up to your relationship is one thing; Yoongi having to dwell in his previous relationship is another. “Is that… worse?”

“Kinda.” Yoongi’s eyes fall. “Much worse.”

“Shit.” Reaching across wood, you close your hand around his fingers for support. It’s the only thing you can think to do. At least, it’s what you would want if you were in his shoes. “I think you should tell him she won’t be.”

A million seconds later, Yoongi thankfully agrees. “Yeah, I will.”

You feel better. Somewhat. At least a little less nauseous about the possibility of your brother knowing. 

But it still sucks knowing that he’s actively avoiding Yoongi because of an ex he used to have. 

How bad was it back then if this is the case? What exactly happened? Is this why Yoongi went radio silent on you for weeks?

It seems like he doesn’t even wanna talk about her. So you won’t pry just yet, as much as you wanna know every single thing she’s done wrong so you can hound her through every timeline in existence. 

Instead, you talk about a much better subject, 

“We should feed my cat now.”

And you quickly laugh at the saucy glint in Yoongi’s eyes. 

—

—

Everything is set where it needs to be. Sugar’s food and water fill their respective bowls, your shoulder leans into Yoongi’s good side, and his arm rests around your back as he’s propped up by his banged up doorway. 

You remember the first time you saw him lean against the wood like this. Only that time, you were a shell of a girl, waiting with shaky breaths and shaken confidence to hear his response to your inappropriate request. 

Who would’ve thought that you’d be on the same side as him all these months later? In his arms, resting a head on his warm chest? 

When you let out a short chuckle, Yoongi turns to your smile. “Hmm?” 

“Nothing,” you wisp out. “Just thinking about us.” 

His fingers press into your side a fraction more, and you can feel him lift his head again. “Me, too.” 

Umm. 

You can say things like that. He isn’t allowed! 

You’re about to set some one-sided rules before your gift pops out of the bushes a few feet away. 

“My baby!” you quietly call, leaving Yoongi’s side to crouch down. “Come here, love. You hungry?”

She cautiously makes her way over, sniffing your hand when you leave it outstretched. After careful consideration, the little one nudges your palm, letting you glide fingers down her back as she approaches her bowls. 

“You’re so tiny,” you observe with slight pity. “We’ll get you well fed in no time—”

“Hey, Sugar! Oh, is this her? She’s gorgeous, no wonder!”

Huh? Sugar? 

Who else knows the cat’s name already?

Your neck almost strains when you look up to see who’s talking. When you notice an older lady donning a really comfy, fluffy robe, you feel like it looks super familiar before you stand. 

“Hi,” you greet before introducing yourself, extending your hand and shaking the woman’s soft, delicate fingers. “Sorry if we were too loud.”

“Call me Miss Dion. And you weren’t too loud this time, sweetie,” she says with a wink, glancing down at the kitty eating what you laid out. “Was just comin’ out to water my plants so it’s good to see you’re here, too. Looks like he finally got some sense back in that head of his.”

“I’m standing right here, you know.”

“Oh, I know!”

Back? How long has she known about you? Do her and Yoongi actually converse regularly? Their banter is… Really adorable. 

It’s making you fall even more in love with the man biting his cheek in amusement. 

Wait. 

Is Yoongi Sugar? 

That is so fucking cute you could cry. 

“I’m back to take care of this guy,” you explain with a head tilt. “And the little one, of course.” 

It’s when you say this that Miss Dion notices the bandages on Yoongi’s face, concern pushing down her brows. “What happened to you, young man?”

“Nothing to worry about.” 

“You sure? I got some ointment in my kitchen somewhere—”

“It’s all good—”

“We’ll take it,” you cut him off, not looking but feeling his stare on your face. “How much do we owe you?” 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that.” With a snuff at Yoongi and a smile your way, Miss Dion heads inside to fetch a bottle.

In the meantime, you give your lover a quiet stare before bending down to run your hands over soft fur. 

“Papa Sugar is gonna need that so he can’t argue,” you coo to your cat, cheekily ignoring Yoongi’s sputtering puff of air above your head.

“Papa Sugar? Really?”

You glance up to his smile with a mischievous one of your own. “What, you wanna be Sugar Daddy instead?”

The swirl in your belly is instant. Because Yoongi can only look out into the distance, biting his lip and failing to hide his grin.

Sigh. If only he didn’t have those injuries across his face. You’d push him back into the door and slam it shut if it was any other day. 

Patience, patience, patience. 

Those hits aren’t gonna heal with just one round of gauze. 

When you have to replace the cotton patches, at least you’ll have something to help. 

—

—

It’s not until you’re about to tuck in for the night that Yoongi approaches your side of the bed. Judging by the headphones slung around his neck, he’s about to work, so you assume he’s just coming to give you a kiss goodnight. 

But after he does exactly that, he asks you a question that warms your chest, 

“Where’s your keys.” 

“In there,” you motion to the nearest wall, bag propped right under his windowsill. “Inside pocket, I think.” 

Yoongi bends with a prolonged grunt, slowly rummaging until he finds your jangling keyring with its charms. When he grabs it, he silently sits on the edge up against your stomach, body heat permeating your tee while he fiddles with the clasps. 

God, you’re so in trouble. You know exactly what he’s doing. 

Unlike the last time he offered you complete access to his place, this time he didn’t even hesitate. And the way he secures a key amongst the loop, it’s his silent way of cementing permanence. 

That’s not another key for you to borrow.

Because that key is yours.

—

—

continued in angel, pt. 2

pitstop inbox before pt2!! | join the server!

a/n: holy crap we're doing it we are actually back in the main storyline?! how do we feel right now because i am over the damn moon diving into this story again. here's a slight pitstop before you make your way over to part two (THE CONTINUATION IS IN A REBLOG!) so take a breather before heading into the resttttttt ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

a/n 2: we did this for 3tanfugue and the energy was great! just like last time, some of you guys suggested that we have post goals to encourage interaction. no one voted against it yet, so we'll keep it goin!

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

While you’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every quarter the company sponsors an employee barbecue where everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though friendly, she has zero filter and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in certain situations where you found her topic of choice inappropriate. 

Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate instead of your measly Assistant means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started and is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply truthfully. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales Boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from Accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “That sounds unnecessarily smelly. He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue button-up. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you prompt, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. They rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs in disinterest. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask distractedly. A glance back to the coolers shows Jungkook is gone, and you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy reminds you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching his athletic display across the grass anyway.

Monday morning—the start of the workweek, but also, rather depressingly, the end of the weekend. Everyone tends to be more tired and grumpy on Mondays (yourself included), and this is why your team considers it essential that you always stop by their preferred coffeeshop and bring in their drinks for a morning pick-me-up. You’re the lowest on the ladder, so you weren’t exactly sure how to refuse when you were asked one day if you would mind picking up some drinks for everyone, and then, after that, people kept sending you their orders like it was expected of you. The café is technically on your way to work and everyone always pays you back, but it’s still pretty irritating to have to forgo those extra precious minutes of sleep just so you can beat the long lines and get to work on time.

Today, you’re lucky enough to get ahead of the morning rush, but that means that you end up trudging into the building much earlier than you anticipated. You hope the coffee’s insulated cups do their job properly, because you really don’t have the energy to listen to Joy huff and puff about having to reheat hers.

Your trek to your cubicle slows when you realize that someone is already there, sitting in your chair and typing away on your keyboard. Their back is to you, swathed in an olive button-up, and it’s not until you get close enough to curiously crane your head to see their face that you recognize him. The guy from the barbecue last week—the one by the coolers.

He startles a bit when he sees you approach in his peripheral vision, eyes darting up at you in surprise.

“Hi.” You raise the tray you’re holding in an awkward greeting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to creep up on you.”

“That’s okay, _____,” he replies softly, wide eyes blinking a little from behind his round glasses. “I can get kind of spacey when I’m focused on something. I was just doing some updates on your machine and didn’t see you.”

“You…” Your head tilts curiously. “You know my name?” 

A small smile touches his lips as he points to your computer. “I’m updating your machine,” he reminds you.

Not to mention the fact that he’s literally sitting in your cubicle, you name tag clearly posted on the frosted glass that separates your space from Joy’s. An embarrassed chuckle leaves you when you realize your dumbass mistake. “Oh. Duh. Wow, that was a stupid question. Let me just get out of your way.”

“No, no, I’m clearly the one in the way!” His head shakes apologetically. “I couldn’t do this update remotely and I thought you didn’t clock in for another half hour—sorry about that.”

“I don’t,” you confirm. “But I tend to get here a little early so I can sort out everyone’s coffee order.”

A brow raises in surprise. “Do they really have you making coffee runs?” he asks incredulously.

You hmm in confirmation, moving to set the coffee on everyone’s desks. “Rite of passage, I guess,” you call over the divider as you work. Joy’s order today isn’t as over the top as you know she can be, but you were still rather embarrassed to order it (vanilla latte with oatmilk—one and a half pumps cinnamon, one pump hazelnut, an extra espresso shot and extra foam with honey drizzle). The barista had looked at you tiredly but hadn’t voiced her obvious judgement when she rung you up. 

“I guess,” you hear him say, but he doesn’t sound too convinced. 

Coffee distributed and hands finally free, you return to lean against your cubicle, hovering as he continues to quickly type and click. You look at him pointedly, a small smile creeping across your face. “Speaking of grunt work, I hear you’re the printer guy.”

His lips quirk. “I’m also the expert at updating Microsoft Word, just so you know.”

You laugh, and his eyes crinkle in amused response. “Oh, well excuse me, sir.”

“I’ll let it slide this once. Since you’re new.”

“And so are you. That’s why you’re the printer guy.”

He just lets out a puff of air that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. This close, you can now see the tiny holes that are trailing up his earlobe—he clearly has multiple ear piercings, not just the ones you saw at the barbecue. There is no jewelry in them now, though. 

“Jungkook, right?”

It’s his turn to look surprised, and you find yourself satisfied by the flush creeping up the back of his neck when he ducks his head in confirmation. 

“Us newbies gotta stick together,” you stage whisper behind a conspiratorial hand before leaning decidedly away. “Anyway, let me stop bothering you and go make some coffee.”

His eyebrows scrunch in clear confusion. “Didn’t you just bring some?”

“…Yeah, I am only just now recognizing just how bizarre this must seem,” you say sheepishly. “But none of those were for me—fancy specialty drinks aren’t really in my budget, so I tend to just brew a cup here.” 

“Did you say drinks?” a voice croaks, and when you turn your head, there’s Joy, walking towards the two of you. If her body’s sluggish movements weren’t enough to clue you in to the fact that she’s exhausted and possibly hungover, the designer sunglasses she’s wearing to tactfully hide half her face certainly do.

“On your desk,” you chirp as she walks past you without another glance. “Good morning!”

There is no response from the other side of the cubicle wall, and Jungkook frowns a bit, but you just give him a small shrug that translates to what can you do? before pushing off the wall to continue your trek to the kitchen. “You want one?” you offer. “I make a mean cafeteria coffee. Trial and error has taught me the exact temperature of tap water to use to make it taste less like sludge.”

His mouth smoothes back out at your joke, and though you wait for him to call you out on your ridiculous declaration, his gaze is already back on your computer. “No thank you,” comes his soft reply.

With a nod to yourself, you move to complete your task and leave Jungkook to work on his. When you return minutes later, newly-filled mug in hand, he’s already gone.

Today starts out pretty typically. After bringing everyone’s coffee, you settle into monitoring the company’s social media accounts. (When Joy first delegated this task to you, you were a bit confused, as social media is so vital to brands nowadays that handling it is technically a whole other full-time job. But it turns out you don’t have to do much above the intern level anyway—just answer customer questions and escalate issues if need be.)

Your manager has been out traveling for a week, but today she finally comes back to the office, and it makes for a nice change of pace when she hands you all of her scattered, hurriedly-scribbled notes and asks you to please transcribe them into something more cohesive and legible. Well, not nice, exactly (because at the end of the day, this is still busywork), but if you have to reply to one more Facebook comment with instructions that are clearly already on the product packaging, there is a pretty likely possibility you will scream. 

This is at least slightly less mind-numbing. Instead of copy-pasting things from a prewritten script, you get to try to make sense of what your boss had been trying to say when she wrote turkey club in the corner of a page filled with random numbers and dates. Was this important? Was it simply her plans for lunch that day? You and your fancy college degree have the pleasure of trying to figure that out while Joy and Alan, the web manager, get to actually do important things that are in their job descriptions.

Still, like every day, you try to dampen your frustration, try to keep a positive attitude. Because ultimately, this is an opportunity to grow your boss’s confidence in you, and that’s exactly what you want. Though you’re a little disheartened by all the busywork, you remind yourself it will all be worth it in the end. Your hope is that if you put in the time, you’ll eventually be trusted with more of the nitty gritty stuff. 

(You know…the stuff you actually got your degree for.)

But no matter how positive you are, things of course don’t go as smoothly as they should. After you’ve done a pretty fantastic job (if you say so yourself) of organizing and typing everything up, you send your manager the digital version. And, because you know the email may accidentally get buried in her inbox, you decide to print a physical copy for good measure.

You give the printer pretty simple, straightforward directions. One copy, double-sided (to do your part to save Mother Earth), the whole document typed in plain old black and white. But when you walk over, there’s nothing waiting for you in the printing tray. No humming to clue you in to the fact that the printer was working on your job. Nope. Instead, the admittedly ancient machine is quiet and still, and it stays that way for long enough for you to walk back to your computer to press the print button again, just in case you forgot to do so the first time. Still no dice. You frown, opening the paper tray to make sure it was full, then opening every other compartment that can possibly be opened to make sure there isn’t a paper jam somewhere.

Nothing.

Irritated, you stalk back to your desk, your first inclination to check with Joy and see if she has been having any of the same issues, but you find her chair empty. Probably got pulled into a meeting that they don’t find it necessary to loop you in on, even though it will ultimately be you who does all the grunt work for any action items the meeting produces.

Positive, you remind yourself, falling back into your chair and drumming your fingertips against your desk in thought. Maybe it’s not the printer at all. Maybe it’s your computer. You search your desk drawer for the introductory employee contact sheet HR had given you when you first started, and there he is—Jeon, Jungkook.

For a second, you consider sending him an email, but the green dot that displays he’s online has you shooting him a message instead. Much less formal, but likely quicker for the both of you.

You Hey Jungkook! Sorry to bother you, but I can’t print for some reason You The printer over here is ignoring me, and I don’t think I’m set up to print by the art directors

Despite what you originally assumed, he doesn’t answer immediately, obviously focused on something else. Still, you only have to wait a few minutes before you hear the soft ding you were waiting for. 

Jungkook Jeon Hi, _____. You mean the large printer by the marketing department, correct?   You Yes! I tried a couple times, but I don’t think the job even went through You Thought it best to just ask the printer guy 🙂

There’s a pause, one long enough that you worry that he’s forgotten about your lighthearted exchange from this morning. Shit. That was stupid of you. You’ve probably offended him. Fuck.

But if Jungkook is upset with you, he’s professional enough that it doesn’t come across at all in his next message. If anything, he just seems a little preoccupied. 

Jungkook Jeon Hmmm, let me check it out for you. Mabel can be a little uncooperative. You Mabel? 

Silence again, this time for a good five minutes. You answer some emails so you’re not just sitting there twiddling your thumbs. 

Jungkook Jeon Sorry, was running some diagnostics in the background to see if I could find the problem  IT kinda calls that printer Mabel because we’re pretty sure she’s worked for the company for longer than all of us combined. Seems fitting

You can’t help but snort at that. Cute, and likely not inaccurate. Mabel, it is.   

Jungkook Jeon One of these days Mabel’ll finally retire, but it won’t be today—looks like she’s running fine. Do you mind checking for me and seeing if you can access the marketing server? 

A few clicks, and when double clicking on the server icon doesn’t bring up the same list of folders it usually does, it confirms the conclusion the both of you have already come to—your computer is the problem, not Mabel.

You No dice 😕 Jungkook Jeon Got it. I think something went weird with your network connection after I updated your machine this morning. I can fix that for you! You Awesome! I appreciate it! Jungkook Jeon Of course! Can’t have my sparkling reputation as the Printer Guy tarnished so easily 😉 You LOL

You allow him remote access to your computer when a pop-up prompts you to, and he gets you up and running before your manager’s meeting is even over.

Lunch has always been an interesting—albeit potentially exhausting—part of your day. You learned early on that attempting to take the break you were legally entitled to at your desk did not stop anyone from continuing to ask you for things. Unfortunately, there weren’t many solutions to this problem—you didn’t get paid enough to be able to consistently eat your lunches out, and you lived too far away from the office to go home for lunch instead. So, you started taking your lunch break a little earlier than most of your other coworkers did, ensuring that the cafeteria was pretty empty and allowing you the space to decompress and eat your bagged lunch in peace. 

And as things usually went with this company, it didn’t take long for that peace to be interrupted. Once she noticed you disappearing from your desk, curiosity had Joy tagging along one day, and after that, it only took a couple weeks before both she and Wendy joined you. 

(Later, you would have the great idea to simply enjoy your bagged lunch in the park a few blocks away, but the weather wasn’t always great and at that point, the other two started to expect you to eat with them.)

So that’s exactly how you’re spending your lunch now—scarfing down the soup you made a few days ago that you’ll eat until it’s completely gone, while Joy and Wendy giggle and gossip to each other. As much as they apparently want to eat lunch with you, they tend to be pretty nonplussed by how you never contribute much to their inane conversations. 

And you’re fine with that. In the time it’s taken them to get comfortable invading your zen time, you’ve learned how to properly tune their tittering out. You’re good at nodding at the right times, at throwing in perfectly placed hums that indicate you’re listening, even when you’re not.

Today, it’s a sudden, uncharacteristic pause in their chatter that prickles against your diverted attention.   “That’s weird,” you hear Wendy mutter, and that officially throws you out of you mentally making your grocery list. The intrigued way she’s looking behind you makes you reflexively turn, and that’s when your eyes set on Jungkook.

He hadn’t been there when you first sat down for lunch, but he is now, sitting alone a couple tables away. He’s the only other person in the cafeteria, but from the AirPods in his ears and the way his eyes are focused on his phone screen, you doubt he’s even noticed this fact.  

Joy’s lips downturn slightly into a puzzled frown. “Hmm. IT guys never come down voluntarily from their tower.” 

Your head tilts as you mull over that. That isn’t exactly true. You have only seen Jungkook in passing a few times over the last couple weeks, but those few times prove IT aren’t exactly the antisocial specters the two women in front of you keep painting them as. You have even exchanged the short pleasantries with him that are socially expected when crossing paths at the coffeepot.  

“Wonder what he’s doing here?” Wendy says, not nearly quietly enough in your opinion. Embarrassment  flashes hot through you, inwardly chastising yourself for continuing to associate with such casually judgmental people. You’re already mentally preparing to apologize for your lunch mates when a covert glance out of the corner of your eye shows that Jungkook’s still paying your group no attention, taking distracted bites from his sandwich as his head bobs slightly to whatever is playing through his headphones.

“Whatever,” Joy says with a dismissive shrug, and then just that easily, the two are back gossiping about Cindy in HR.

From then on, you notice that Jungkook continues to eat lunch in the cafeteria at the same time as you. Sometimes, he beats you there, already at his designated table and munching on whatever he brought that day. If your eyes meet, he’ll send you a small smile in greeting before immediately dropping his focus back to his phone. If you’re there first and throw him a wave of acknowledgment, he always returns it, as is polite and expected of two coworkers who don’t know each other beyond their forced proximity.

And you think nothing of it, too busy being your department’s errand girl, the person who gets assigned all the tasks no one else wants to do. The amount of interaction you and Jungkook have is only marginally higher than what you have with Namjoon in Finance, who periodically reaches out to you for any missing receipts for charges on the Marketing department’s credit card.

This slowly starts changing as you begin to have more and more technical problems. You being assigned to put together multiple PowerPoints and research whatever market trends tickles your boss’s fancy means you constantly have an ungodly amount of tabs and applications open. This means you’re not really surprised when your computer—an older model that is definitely on its last leg—starts freezing and giving you pop up errors. A force restart seems to fix the problem, but a new one emerges—now, no matter how many times you hit the print button and walk over to your designated printer, nothing awaits for you to pick up. Even scrolling through the printer’s print history shows no record of your jobs being in the queue. It’s bizarre—you even make sure to confirm you’re connected to the servers, and that doesn’t seem to be the issue this time.

Frowning, you make your way back to your desk and scroll down your chat messages until a familiar face appears.

You  Hey Jungkook! I can’t seem to print—think something weird is going on with my computer today

A soft sigh of frustration escapes your lips, fingers drumming irritably against your desk. It isn’t even noon, but the day is already looking to be a long one.

Resigned, you settle in to wait for him to answer you in the chat, but the little bubbles that indicate he’s typing never pop up. Instead, you’re surprised when movement in your peripheral produces Jungkook himself, slowing in approach of your desk, though his focus is still on his phone screen. He must have gotten your message in the midst of doing something else. 

“Oh! Hi,” you greet him eagerly. “Just the person I was looking to see.”

He looks up at you from beneath the curtain of his bangs, a small smile touching his lips as he stuffs his phone back into the pocket of his slacks. “Just the person I was looking for,” he returns. “What seems to be the problem?” 

“Mabel is being a bitch again,” you say with an irritated sigh. “Every time I try to print, nothing is happening.” 

Jungkook snorts, amused, and it’s only then that your brain registers exactly what you just said. Swearing at work is unprofessional so you make it a point not do it, but that one slipped out so casually. “Oh—sorry.”

But if Jungkook is offended, it certainly doesn’t show in the responding chuckle he lets out. “That’s definitely on brand. I can fix that—let me take a look.”

You move to relinquish your seat, but he’s already leaning over you before you can do more than shift your weight. So you just let go of your mouse so he can control it instead, scooting to the side a bit and trying your best not to think too hard about how he’s close enough for your clothes to brush. Christ does he smell good.

Jungkook clicks around a bit, no doubt checking to make sure your computer is up to date and connected to everything it’s supposed to. “Is this what you’ve been trying to print?” he finally asks, brows furrowed in concentration.

You blink at the question, realizing with dawning horror that you were accidentally distracted by his proximity. You clear your throat, shaking your head a little at yourself in an attempt to clear it of all thoughts that aren’t solidly on the task at hand. “Yeah.” 

He clicks the print button, just as you have done for the past ten minutes, then straightens with a shrug. “Let’s give our old girl a visit and see what her deal is.”

You stand, following him around the corner to the copy room, where Mabel has proudly taken residence for who knows how many years. The fact that you can already see she’s humming with activity as the two of you approach has your eyebrows knitting in confusion.

Jungkook seems equally confused, reaching in the tray for the stack of paper that was just spit out and turning it over to confirm both of your suspicions. The report you’ve been trying to print for the last twenty minutes sits in his hand, likely still warm from how quickly and easily Mabel completed Jungkook’s request. He holds it up for you to see, his big doe eyes peering at you quizzically through his glasses. “This printer was the one that wouldn’t work for you?” he asks.

“Yeah, I definitely sent it to this one. Repeatedly,” you insist. Embarrassment prickles across your skin. “I swear it wasn’t working two seconds ago!”

Jungkook smiles when he hands you the papers, and it somehow softens his naturally cherubic face even more. “You just wanted to say hi to me, huh?” 

“Clearly Mabel likes you more than me,” you sniff at his teasing. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“You didn’t,” he says simply. He hovers for a few more moments as you check to make sure all the pages are there. “Let me know if you have any more issues, okay?”