masterlist

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Becoming parents had changed your relationship with Yeonjun. Not drastically — he was still incredibly attentive towards you, silly when he needed to be, serious when the moment called for it. He was a fantastic father to the 9 month old daughter you both shared; a perfect partner that never made you feel like you were carrying too much on your own.

What had shifted, unfortunately, was the level of intimacy you two shared.

It was no one’s fault, really. It was only natural that when the baby arrived, you both would trade spontaneous midnight car rides, late night movie dates and wild sex for diaper changes, baby bottles and searching for lost pairs of little socks.

So a moment like this — you both freshly showered, dressed in sweats, wrapped in each other’s arms in the middle of your bedroom — was rare.

You both had taken your daughter to stay with Yeonjun’s parents for a couple of nights. The idea had been presented to you by his mother, who noticed you both looked equal parts enamored and exhausted.

Your daughter had never left the comfort of your household since the day she came home; she had never lived a night without yourself and your loving husband watching over her. It had taken persistent convincing from his mother for both Yeonjun and yourself to come around, but you both eventually caved, deciding that a couple nights to yourself was more than needed.

And now that you had it, it was something you both wanted to cherish.

“Do you think we even know how to be our old selves anymore?”

Your voice filled the bedroom, Yeonjun’s warm arms embracing you more tightly. His chin rested on your head, him simply taking a rare second to hold you close to him.

The dull sound of the television wasn’t enough to erase the silence that lingered around every corner of the house. No cries from your daughter, no static from the baby monitor. No toys singing happy songs and waiting for Yeonjun to accidentally trip over them.

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds longer as you looked up from your position flush against Yeonjun’s chest. Your husband hummed softly in consideration of your words, fingers softly caressing your arm.

“We do. We just need to take some time to get back into our old routines. Start setting aside more time for us.”

Content with his answer, you gave a small nod before curling yourself back into his arms. You each released a sigh of what was definitely pent up tension; tension from months of holding everything together as parents, neglecting parts of yourselves without meaning to.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” Yeonjun’s deep voice muttered, him leaning away just enough to look down at your expression.

“Hmm?”

A smirk painted his lips as he kissed the tip of your nose, staring down at you with mischief on his features.

“I wonder if you still remember how to be a good girl for me?”

Blush painted your cheeks instantly, head burying back into his chest — this time, to hide. You two had been together long enough for you to know exactly what he was referring to.

Not trusting your own voice, you cleared your throat.

“You know I was never good at that, Jun.”

Yeonjun released a small chuckle, fingers leaning down to trace the loose neckline of his old t-shirt that you wore.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, baby. You’re the best, actually.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Let me show you what I remember. Can I do that?” Yeonjun’s smooth words sent a shiver down your spine, his dark eyes staring into yours with a familiar tension that made time stand still.

“Yes please.” The words slipped from your lips before your brain could fully process them, earning an expectant smile from the man you loved.

“My girl…already being so good for me, aren’t you?” At his own words, Yeonjun lowered his hands to the hem of your shirt, fingers gently caressing your hips underneath. He brought his lips towards your ear, kissing softly on your earlobe.

“Gonna listen real good for me, baby? Let me take care of you?”

His whispered words drew a gentle but deep inhale from you, your hands gripping his biceps in an attempt to keep yourself steady. His fingers wrapped around your chin, guiding you so that your eyes met his. The intensity of his gaze and attention was far too strong for you to look away, eyes locked on his with the utmost focus.

Yeonjun felt it instantly — the way tension began to fall from your shoulders as you focused solely on him. The way your body shivered at his every touch but drifted closer to him in the same breath, as if involuntary.

“That’s my pretty girl. How do you feel, baby?” Yeonjun breathed, pressing a warm kiss to the center of your forehead.

“I feel like…I’m floating.” You whispered out, eyes closing softly as your mind lingered on the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“Floating is perfect. You’re right where I want you, love.”

His large hand lightly gripped the back of your neck, thumb gently caressing the length of your throat; that was all it took to make your knees buckle.

A nearly devious smile covered Yeonjun’s lips as he leaned forward to meet your own in a warm, passionate kiss. You melted into his touch, one hand gripping his wrist as he kissed you more deeply.

“There you are, princess. So eager. That’s my baby.”

Yeonjun moved his warm lips alongside your neck, kisses pressing into the flesh with a practiced ease that still made your heart flutter. You closed your eyes as he turned you so that your back was to his chest, relishing in his every touch as he pulled you impossibly closer.

You felt yourself slipping away under the tenderness of his touch, the guidance of his words and the warmth of his affection.

“What do you want, princess? I’ll give you anything.” His voice was rough with want, fingers sliding inside the waistband of your sweatpants to feel along your soaked center through your panties.

You bit back a moan that slipped out anyways, head leaning back against his chest, giving him more access to kiss along your skin.

“I just want you.”

“You want me? Elaborate, baby.” Yeonjun pressed kisses behind your ear and down your neck, smiling against your skin at the way you shivered under his embrace.

“I need you.”

“You need me where, baby girl?”

“Just….everywhere.”

Your words came out as a mixture between a whine and a broken moan, legs nearly crossing around his hand between your thighs — anything to attempt to soften the desire that had already began to pool.

Yeonjun’s eye twitched in arousal, brows furrowing, expression hardening once more.

“Good girl. Take off your clothes.”

Muscle memory kicked in at the sound of his voice — calm, dominant, laced with want. You obeyed immediately, ridding yourself of the clothes that now felt too warm on your skin. His gaze was frozen on you, taking in the sight he had seen a million times but had never tired of.

“This still okay?”

Yeonjun’s expression softened for a few seconds, stroking your cheek as he scanned your body with dark, reverent eyes. The warmth of his palms caressed your cheek, grounding you briefly in the midst of pleasure.

“Yes…just please hurry.” You breathed, eyes nearly desperate as you stared back at him.

Your chest bloomed with warmth as you watched the small smile form on his lips. It was nearly a smirk, teasing and loving both wrapped in a bow. His forehead rested on yours briefly, eyes closing as he took another moment to breathe you in.

“Patience is a virtue, my love.”

His hand moved from your cheek to your chin, lifting it gently as so to draw your attention back to him. When your eyes fluttered open to meet his, he finally pressed his lips against yours. You both moved in a rhythm that felt familiar and nearly foreign, long overdue. It had been ages since you had a chance to kiss like this — soft, passionate, filled with want. No interruptions due to your child crying, waves of nausea or busy schedules. Just the two of you.

“That’s my girl. I want you face down for me.” Yeonjun murmured, hands caressing your skin in awe. He was addicted to the way you felt in his palms, warm and pliant under the direction of his voice. His fingers grazed the plump of your breasts before you walked towards the bed, face pressed against the pillows, the arch of your back immaculate.

Yeonjun nearly growled under his breath, taking his time to walk towards the bed as he stared at your figure.

So beautiful. So perfect for him. So his.

Pregnancy had made every inch of you more full and it took everything in him not to devour you every rare, free second he got.

From behind his hands splayed across your back, lightly massaging every inch until they rest on your hips. His flushed lips pressed against your spine, kissing a trail from top to bottom that made you whimper against him.

His favorite sound.

“What happened the last time I put you in this position, princess?”

The words were enough to make you whimper, your trembling hands gripping the sheets in anticipation as Yeonjun began to caress your inner thighs.

“I got pregnant.” You whined, eyes closed as your body reveled in the feeling of his touch. A small hum left Yeonjun’s mouth from behind.

“You did, hmm? Pregnant while on all fours for me? Ass in the air? Kind of…slutty of you, don’t you think?”

A sound that almost resembled a sob threatened to leave your body as Yeonjun’s fingers began to lightly caress your swollen folds, his digits drenched in your arousal immediately.

He always managed to do this — make you soaked before he barely began to touch you. Your grip on the sheets tightened as you held back the urge to moan, tears threatening to leave your eyes from a mixture of desire and anticipation.

“What would people say if they knew you got pregnant like this? All spread out with your pretty pussy in the air?” His dominant yet teasing tone nearly had you seeing stars, coupled with his fingers continuing to tease your folds. You were too blissed out to form a coherent sentence; a moan of pleasure sufficed.

“I’m just teasing, baby. You can’t help what you are, huh?”

With a small chuckle Yeonjun removed his fingers from your folds, grabbing the back of your neck firmly but without force. He pulled your head back just enough to watch the way you happily took his awaiting fingers in your mouth, sucking your arousal from them with a hunger he hadn’t seen from you in ages. His breath hitched as you swirled your tongue seductively around the digits, licking them clean.

“That’s my good fucking girl. So pretty.”

You groaned when he gently guided your face back down into the pillow. By now mascara and soft tears had begun to grace the white pillowcase, your body overwhelmed with pleasure and anticipation.

When it came to intimacy, Yeonjun never rushed. He was the king of taking his time — a blessing and a curse.

Foreplay was his playground and his forte.

“I love the way you spread your pussy for me. Desperate for my cock, huh?” His wet digits found their way to your soaked clit, rubbing gently on the neglected flesh in a way he knew you craved. Sobs left your lips at the contact, fingers returning to gripping the sheets impossibly tight.

“Yeonjun, please. I can’t wait anymore, please.” Your tears increased, voice nearly a cry rather than coherent words. Immediately Yeonjun caressed your back with his free hand that had been resting on your hip, pressing a soft kiss to your tailbone before pulling his fingers away.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

From behind you heard the soft, slick sound of him stroking his dick, pre-cum from him taking his precious time just enough to make the strokes wet. Your eyes shut as you tried to push back the thought of having him buried in your mouth, his rough hands pulling your hair as he mercilessly fucked your throat — next time.

You felt Yeonjun teasingly drag his length up and down your entrance, tip kissing your clit occasionally and earning a broken moan from your lips.

“You’re doing so good, princess. You’ve been so patient. You ready for me?” Yeonjun groaned, the last slivers of restraint stripping from his voice.

As soon as you choked out a ‘yes’, you felt him begin to work his way inside of you, your knees nearly giving out at the sensation of finally having him where you needed him most. His strong hands gripped your hips to keep you upright, Yeonjun inhaling for air as he attempted to bottom out in your heat.

“God…you’re so tight, baby.”

His fingers pressed into your hips, his strokes long and slow as he savored the feeling of you around him. Desperate to feel him closer you reached back a single hand, seeking his embrace. Yeonjun took the opportunity to grab both of your hands, pinning them against your tailbone as he increased the speed of his strokes.

Tears of pleasure wet your cheeks, mind too far gone to think about anything other than the feeling of him impossibly deep inside of you; having his way with you.

“You look so good taking my dick, baby. You were made for it, huh?” Yeonjun groaned, voice rough and dripping with ecstasy. Your reply came out simply as a whimper. You attempted to move your hips to meet his thrusts in an effort to get him to increase his speed.

“Aht, Aht, Aht. What did I say about patience, my love? You’ve been doing so well. I’d hate to leave you all empty.”

As if testing his words he pulled out nearly completely, leaving only the tip barely inside of you. It was enough to make you cry in protest.

“I’m sorry just…please. Need it, Jun. Need you.”

The desperation in your tone seemed to awake something deep inside of him, your husband releasing a groan as he tightened his grip on your wrists.

“God, you’re killing me.” Yeonjun muttered before re-entering you fully with a quickness that took your breath away.

As the speed of his strokes increased, your world began to blur.

You barely registered the fact that your hands had returned to the sheets and his fingers were on your clit, stroking you with one hand while his other gripped your hip impossibly tight. His words had become nothing but muffled sounds in your brain as your body spread with a familiar heat.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna be a good girl and cum with me, yeah? My perfect girl.”

Seconds later broken, whiny sobs leave your lips as your walls come crashing down around him, orgasm blinding white in pleasure and intensity.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Lost in the bliss of your orgasm you barely process the sound of Yeonjun groaning behind you, his miraculous fingers continuing to softly work your throbbing clit as he begins to pump you full of his cum.

As you come down from your high, Yeonjun continues to ride out his, cum leaking around his length. The sound filled the room — wet, addictive and filthy all the same.

“Fuck, baby. You drive me crazy. You know that?”

Exhaustion paints your limbs as you feel his warm hands coax your limp body to lay on your back.

You expected to feel the warmth of a towel against your skin but instead you’re met with Yeonjun’s plush lips kissing at your swollen folds, tongue softly licking between the flesh. Your fingers weakly curled into the strands of his hair, holding him close and feeling him smile against you as he gently licks you clean.

In a matter of seconds your eyes begin to drift closed in contentment and pleasure. When he’s finished, Yeonjun presses delicate kisses into your neck, massaging your breasts gently in his palm.

He was kind enough not to coax another orgasm out of you right now, seeing how spent you were; not wanting to reintroduce too much too soon.

Instead, he’d likely wake you up in an hour with your clit between his lips and his fingers working their way inside of you, savoring the taste of you on his tongue.

You couldn’t wait.

For now, he lightly caressed your cheek, staring at you in awe though you were too tired to see it.

available on ao3

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It was rare that there was anything Jeon Jungkook couldn’t obtain. Money, drugs, women, upper class luxuries. Ever since he had been introduced to the world that put the term ‘sin’ to shame, it had bowed down at the mention of his name. Never his actual name, of course. To the world of guilty pleasures and intoxicated misfortunes, he was simply known as The Ghost. Never seen, never heard; yet somehow possessing the ability to make moves no one saw coming from miles away. Tilt the world on its axis without leaving a trace.

He had acquired the business from his uncle who had been in his late 50s and looking to retire; put aside the life of living in the shadows and enjoy what he had left of it. Jungkook had been 22 and searching for his path in life — the timing was perfect, the moment inevitable.

He was now 27 and had mastered the business like an art form — at least mostly. He oversaw nearly every drug import and export that occurred in South Korea, with his base being in the heart of Busan. The city wasn’t nearly as busy as Seoul; less potential eyes on him and his operation. But he was close enough where he could catch an hour plane ride to the capital if he needed to.

“He knows the shipment is supposed to arrive an hour after the confirmation time. This is his last job, he was already on thin fucking ice.”

The words he muttered to himself had been nearly the first spoken by Jungkook in the past hour. Rarely ever out of his office, he now stood underneath the familiar pier, looking out into the clear sea before him. The night sky made it nearly impossible to see, illuminated only by the slivers of light from the moon. 

The businessman was accompanied by two muscular guards about 8 inches his stature, both sporting black hair with fitted black t-shirts and slacks. They stood silently and watchful, more silent than the gentle waves around them. Each sported simple pistols near their waist, unafraid to use them if necessary.

When the sun rose, Jungkook owned a security company. It was how he had become acquainted with the guards who followed him around most of the day. They were quiet and loyal men — had been since Jungkook started the business. 

Truthfully, his security business mostly ran itself. He had an old friend, Park Jimin, who had gone to college for accounting. He ran the books and formed schedules; he mostly worked remotely but he’d visit the office a couple days out of the week. It was fairly simple — clients who needed security paid in cash, Jungkook would supply the workers and Jimin handled anything inbetween. He was compensated well for it. 

Jungkook did his best to make sure the finances for both his endeavors never clashed. The last thing he desired was to put his classmate, who knew nothing of his second life, in harms way. His personal guards were on payroll like everyone else the company hired — however, any overtime they received was directly from Jungkook, off the books. He paid them handsomely for their silence and loyalty. 

Contemplating, Jungkook began to pace back and forth in the thinning sand, hands shoved deeply in the pockets of his dark grey, Giorgio Armani suit. His black tie was rather unruly—loosened thirty minutes prior when his patience had started to run dry. 

In his line of business, structure was vital — deadlines, organization, punctuality. All of which were currently being violated.

Twenty minutes passed before the sound of rougher waves drew his attention. An hour later than expected, the small boat could be seen off in the distance, closing in on the drop off location. They never traveled large or in anything flashy; never wanting to stick out, operating in the shadows. Fairly content now that he laid his eyes on the boat in the distance, Jungkook turned his feet in the sand, looking at the body guard that stood to his right. 

“When he drops off the load, please make sure all $50,000 is there and the inventory matches the order. Lock it all in the safe, then you’re free to go. I’ll handle distribution in the morning.”

The day had been much longer than expected. 

On average, Jungkook was home around 9pm. However, he was beginning to encounter the issue of delayed shipments and logistical errors he had to fix. He wasn’t a fan of having to come out of the shadows — it put everything he worked hard for at risk.

One of his oldest workers, Jihun, was a friend of his uncle’s who had originally stayed on to make sure Jungkook easily acclimated himself to the business. He was a major part of the operation — performing background checks to make sure sellers were credible, scheduling meetings to perform trades and drop offs . What was suppose to be a couple years turned into five years and he was finally ready to retire. Jungkook couldn’t help but oblige. However, finding a replacement for him proved to be difficult. Jungkook had been attempting to do it remotely with the help of a few workers who had only ever communicated with him over email and had never seen his face. It was sloppy, but he was working every day to tighten it up.

The hum of gentle music on the radio settled him in for the 45 minute drive home. He relaxed in the seat of his black Mercedes truck, reaching for his personal cellphone he rarely ever used unless the sun had set. A warm smile spread across his lips as he looked down at the phone, clicking on the message thread titled ‘babygirl 💗’.

jungkook:

missing you, thinking about you. home soon, baby. 00:13 

babygirl 💗:

missing you too, baby. 00:14

The message came with a photo attachment Jungkook immediately opened, halfway keeping his eyes on the highway as he drove through the night.

The attachment displayed a picture of a woman in a pink silk nightgown that hugged her curves, black lace v-line exposing the plump of her breasts just enough to leave something for the imagination. He muttered curses under his breath, quickly typing back a response while keeping his eyes ahead. He felt the zipper on his pants struggle to expand as he attempted (failed) to keep his wild thoughts at bay. 

jungkook:

you’re fucking beautiful. be at the door when i get there. 00:16

The 45 minute drive home was a breeze, city lights flashing in the distance, loafer clad shoe pressed hard to the gas. His eyes played over the photo what felt like a million times, desire running through his veins like a river. 

She had the garage door open for him when he arrived, liked clockwork. She made everything function and flow behind closed doors for him; where as he was in charge and structured in his daily life, she kept their home life in order. She always had a meal cooked, his clothes pressed, the house clean, their appointments in order, the groceries stocked. He cherished her; more than anything else in his life — in his world that was black and white during the day, she filled it with her radiant colors at night. 

He parked his car, fingers slipping into the glove compartment to grab the golden band that waited for him. A soft smile on his lips, he slipped it onto the ring finger of his left hand. Unlocking the door of his home, Jungkook took in the smell of washing powder, accompanied by her sweet scent of vanilla and spring that filled the air, garage door closing behind him. His eyes immediately glared towards the dimly lit entry way, seeing the woman standing in the same pink silk nightgown she wore in the sultry picture.

A low groan emitted from his lips, dark brown eyes pooling with shades of lust that the woman found all too familiar. She gave him a teasing smile, softly curled hair pooling over her shoulders in a way that made her look angelic. He removed his suit jacket, laying it over the couch next to them.

“Strip.”

Keeping eye contact with Jungkook, the woman slowly began to shred her gown as she had been told. She was always a good listener when he spoke. 

His daze followed her fingers as she removed the straps of her nightgown one by one. The fabric slipped easily from her fingers, catching ever so slightly as it slipped past the plump of her breasts. Jungkook’s breath hitched, causing him to loosen his tie, followed by the belt. He stepped closer to her with calculated steps, almost as if he was scared to touch her — scared to ruin the perfect image that stood before him.

The cold air sent shivers down her spine as she gently teased her hair, watching him stare at her in amazement.

“….You’re a work of art. You know that?”

Stepping closer towards her, Jungkook gently cupped her face, thumbs rubbing her warm cheeks. She smelled of vanilla body wash and ecstasy, drawing every inch of sanity he had left to the brink. She shivered as she felt his clothed body press against her skin, the bulge in his pants growing larger as he held her.

Catching the glow of her eyes in the dim light, he smiled at her briefly before meeting her perfect lips with his own. Their lips danced in a familiar, yet electrifying rhythm that sent sparks through his body. In 5 years they had kissed what felt like a million times but kisses like this never got old. She nearly melted into his touch, feeling her knees begin to weaken. He was so warm, so handsome, so hers. He smelled of amber and sandalwood, skin of his hands as soft as it had been when he left that morning. Good, she thought. He was unharmed.

Her fingers entwined in his pristinely cut hair, four carat diamond ring never catching on the gentle strands. It had been three years since they had gotten married. As with most things in Jungkook’s world, the proposal had been in the dead of night.  He woke her up from her sleep, chanting about a surprise that couldn’t wait. With tired eyes she held out her arms as he slipped on her robe and carried her to his truck. She fell asleep nearly instantly in the Mercedes, the soft human of jazz music luring her to sleep once he hit the highway. When she woke up, Jungkook was kissing her cheek, luring her out of the vehicle and into a park that had the perfect view of the stars in the sky. He had walked her around the park for a little while, going over memories from their past and professing his love in a way only Jungkook could — calculated, perfect and with beautiful imagery. Once they had reached the end of the park, there was a picnic table next to the river in their sight. The table was covered in glowing candles, a small meal he prepared and 24 bouquets of the deepest red roses combined to make one large bouquet. One for every month they had been together. 

He got down on one knee in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, asking her to be his forever. And she couldn’t have said yes faster. It was the proposal she had asked him for, back when their one year anniversary came around and he asked her if she ever considered forever with him. She told him ‘of course’, thinking he couldn’t have asked a sillier question. But she requested that her proposal not be anything flashy; just simple, meaningful and when she least expected it. And he had delivered in every aspect.  

“So perfect like this. Look at you, baby.”

The wide palm of Jungkook’s hands groped the plush of her ass, kneading it ever so slightly as her eyes locked on his — sultry innocence and uncharted passion; he lived for it, breathed it even.

Locking in on her eyes, Jungkook slowly dropped to his knees, hands pressing into her hips and caressing her pelvic bone. She wore a small lace thong that kept nearly nothing to the imagination with its slit in the middle. He pressed a gentle kiss to her stomach, then to her clit. The moan she swore was gentle echoed through the walls of the mansion. It was way too big for just the two of them and their dog, Bam, asleep upstairs — but they called it home. 

“You’re so sensitive. Been waiting for me to come eat you all day, haven’t you?”

She moaned a hasty ‘yes’, fingers gripping his hair as his tongue began to gently lick her wet folds, slit in her thong providing him perfect access. The familiar taste of her arousal earned a moan of appreciation from him. He had thought it was insane to say she tasted like home but he knew no word greater to describe the taste of her on his lips. She tighten her grip in his hair as she held back her gentle cries, lost in the way his eyes lazily met hers as he took his time devouring her.

In this space, time stood still. In this home, they were in their own world. 

The cool touch of his wedding band against her pelvis made her smile, head dipping back in ecstasy as his lips began to softly suck her sensitive clit. As her orgasm neared, the touch of his ring brought back a distant memory. 

“I’m not a good person.”

It was their second month together, his eighth month in the business. They stood in the middle of a crowded club, neither of their style but they made an amusing commitment to start trying new things together. They had both been dancing, smiles on their faces as the music ran through their veins. The freedom he had felt as they danced, the way his heart pulled at him like he knew what this was becoming — or what it already was. He found himself no longer being able to looking into her eyes and promise her a world with no faults. As she stared back at him her eyes sparked of something Jungkook couldn’t quite place. She gave him a gentle smile, tightening her grip on his hand that rested in hers.

It wasn’t the smartest conversation to have in a room full of people, Jungkook knew better than that. He was a ghost in his work life and he never allowed himself to be seen out in public during working hours. 

“Good is subjective, Kook. Do you hurt people?”

There was a small furrow of his eyebrows that he prayed she didn’t see. He stared down at her eyes, looking back at him as if he controlled the stars. He’d never get over that, the way she looked at him. He was convinced he wanted to see that look for the rest of his life. Hold that trust close to his heart like a prayer.  

“Sometimes. Not unless I have to.” He firmly spoke, fingers never letting go of hers. By now the song had changed but the people around them continued to dance, paying them no mind.

“Do you actually own a security company?”

“I do.”

“Is that where you go when you tell me you’re going to work?” 

“That’s usually where my day starts.”

“If I ever ask you what you mean — all this saying you’re not a good person. Will you be honest with me?” 

Jungkook answered without hesitation, taking himself partly by surprise.

“I will. You have my word.”

“Then stop talking and keep dancing with me.” 

She gripped the couch behind her, feeble feeling arms being the only thing holding her up.  

“You’re so wet for me, baby. Been waiting all day to taste you.”

“God, Jungkook.” Whimpers escaped her lips as her fingers tightened in his hair in an effort to brace herself. He used one hand to hold her hip while the other began unbuttoning his dress shirt that had become far too hot. 

In the rush of feverish kisses and passionate touches, they found themselves moving from the living room to the california king with her cheek pressed to the mattress, his hips driving her to the brink of insanity and pleasure. He kissed the arch of her back as he thrusted his hips, the recoil of her ass making him feel dizzy. 

“Who do you belong to, baby.” His growled his words like less of a question, more of statement. Tears of pleasure welled in her eyes and she melted into his steady pace, lips parting as she struggled to breathe out an answer. She felt so full, so complete — mind so empty, bliss unmeasured.

“You, Kook. I belong to you.”

“And this pussy?” He kept a hand on her waist as the other wrapped her curly strands around his palm, pulling her hair ever so lightly to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Yours, Kook. God, harder.” She gripped the sheets, fingertips shaking with impending arousal. He always did this. Fucked her to the point where she felt insatiable and nearly incoherent; craving him so much it made her entire soul shake. Like an addict breaking sobriety. 

“You’re going to cum again for me? So fucking greedy. Go ahead, cum.”

Her orgasm arrived shortly after, her fingers clutching the sheets as she cried out his name. The pump of his hips stilled abruptly as he pressed his head against her back, hands gripping her breasts as he released inside of her. He moaned in a way that rung in the woman’s ears, sex heavy in his tone and her name breathless on his tongue, heightening her climax beneath him. The ragged sounds of their breathing clung to walls of the bedroom. Jungkook pressed gentle kisses down the woman’s spine, savoring the feeling of being inside of her for just a little longer — safe, peaceful, perfect.

“Rough day at work?” She spoke after they had finished cleaning themselves briefly, lying in their afterglow and catching their breath. Her head rested on his chest, tracing his abs with gentle and familiar intrigue. 

“Frustrating to say the least.” 

“I could tell. You fucked a little harder than usual tonight.”

With her head against his chest, she listened as his heartbeat sped up. “Harder? Was I too rough today, baby?”

“No, never, Kook. I don’t think you could be rough with me if you tried.”

His finger pressed against her chin, tilting it just enough so that her lips met his in a warm kiss. It was lazy, thankful, still a little hungry — he always did a great job of that; expressing what he didn’t say with kisses. She relished at the taste of herself still left on his lips.

His fingers gentle brushed hair from her face, stroking the plump of her cheeks as he pulled her closer. 

The sound of the central air slowly pulled them towards sleep, dinner long forgotten at the table in exchange for serotonin and coitus. 

“I’ll be leaving early in the morning, around 6.” Jungkook lazily mumbled, arms around the woman’s body pulling her impossibly closer. She hummed in response, eyes heavy with sleep and satisfaction.

“If I’m not up, wake me when you get up?”

“I promise, beautiful.”

When the sun set, Jungkook was a husband.

She had been his secret. In the life full of drugs, money and evil he lead, he had somehow managed to keep her hidden away. It started off when they met 5 years ago during a charity event. Ironic, probably. She was an advocate for the development of cancer research and therapy for patients and families affected by the disease. Jungkook was an anonymous donor. He sat in the crowd but donated virtually under a pseudo name, assuring that he was always one of the highest donors. 

They first locked eyes when she gave a speech at the end of the event. She had been wearing a light pink dress with bows that fell on her shoulders. She wore soft white heels and a smile that showed how passionate she was about the cause. Her eyes scanned the crowd as she spoke, clearly having obtained training in engaging an audience. He sat in nearly the furthest row but their eyes still met. Immediately, there was something curious yet familiar that hung in the air between them — something they couldn’t quite place their hands on. Her eyes hovered over him a few seconds too long before finishing her speech, engaging the crowd and thanking everyone for their volunteer efforts.

He was a man of stealth but he was a man of opportunity.

So he waited until the crowd dwindled and the donors said their farewell before walking up to her, watching her begin to clear her speech material from the podium. He had suavely introduced himself — confident, with a sweet smile and eyes that hoped she’d give him a few minutes of her time. She shook his extended hand, introducing herself with a playful glimmer in her gaze that he longed to know more about. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon. Have we met before?”

Jungkook woke up around 5:30 am. The smell of eggs and toast was the first thing to fill his nostrils. She had gotten up before him after all. She always did. As he came to, he felt the gentle presence of warm lips pressed against his neck, smooth hands sliding across his bare chest in a way that made his soul smile. 

“Good morning to you too, baby.”

She echoed a hum of appreciation at his words as she continued to kiss his neck, hands sliding down until they reached the bulge in his boxers, caressing it softly.

“You drive me insane, do you know that?” Jungkook continued to keep his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of her touch all over his body. She kissed her way down to the hem of his boxers, toying with the fabric. She pulled them down ever so slowly, cock springing out to brush against the plump of her cheeks. She hummed in desire, beginning to press soft kisses to the head.

“If we had more time, I’d ride you.”

He twitched in her mouth, a groan for what could have been leaving his lips. A sleepy laugh slipped from both of their mouths. She gripped the girth in her hands as she began to alternate between slowly tracing her tongue over the head and taking what length she could into her mouth, eyes hypnotized in pleasure as she savored the weight of him on her tongue.

The guttural moan he released sounded throughout the bedroom, precum sucked from his head as soon as it appeared. 

“Tonight, then. For right now, keep sucking baby.”

When they finished, the couple showered together and both indulged in the breakfast she had prepared. She helped him get dressed in another dark suit that occupied his closet, pressed to perfection just the way he liked it. She prepared an iced coffee for him and a protein drink for the drive. 

She had mastered the art of Jeon Jungkook to a science. She knew his routine like the back of her hand; knew what he would say sometimes before he said it.

Soulmates.

Before she knew it, she was watching Jungkook seat himself in the drivers side seat, practically pulling her in the car as he covered her face with gentle kisses. If his crew could see him now — tucked into the shadows of his own home, bathed in the glow of the woman who made his heart sing — they’d never believe he was the same person they knew.

“Don’t worry your mind too much today, okay? I’m feeling a little tension in your shoulders.” Jungkook playfully massaged the woman’s shoulders, getting a lazy but fond smile from her in return. 

“Can I make a request for the masseuse to do a home visit for you? Or would you rather go in person?”

“A home appointment sounds great, Kook. Thank you for thinking of me.” She traced random lines on his chest as he held her close, eyes scanning her face in search of what she wasn’t saying.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She loved that about him; his ability to know something bothered her without the need to pry. 

“Nothing’s bothering me, I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.” She hated to lie to him. He always knew, without fail. But he never pressed. It wasn’t in his nature — with her, at least.

“I’ll make the call but if this massage doesn’t work, we’re seeing a doctor.” 

She loved the way he spoke. So sure, so steady. He never left room for confusion or uncertainty, but he always took her into consideration.

He wanted to tell her that when she was ready to really tell him what was plaguing her mind, he’d be there. But he let her have it for now, not wanting to push her before she was ready.

“That sounds fine baby.” She gave him a soft grin, kissing his lips and stroking his cheek. She took a few seconds to admire him — the rosy tone of his cheeks that spread just a little as she stared at him — his big brown eyes that she never regretted getting lost in. He was everything she ever needed, she had been thoroughly convinced a million and one times. 

“Be safe. Eyes on the road and head on a swivel.”

“I promise, my love.”

Soon she was waving goodbye to Jungkook as he pulled away from the home and onto the road. She waited until he was far in the distance to close the garage door. Once he did, she double checked that the doors in the house were locked and that the security system was armed. She closed all the curtains and headed to the kitchen, opening a bottom drawer she knew Jungkook would never check. Inside the drawer laid two pistols she quickly checked to make sure were still fully loaded with bullets. Seeing that they were, she closed the drawer contently, heading to her office. 

Her office was her personal sanctuary. Having one at his place of work, Jungkook understood how important it was to have your own space to relax and work on your ideas, so he never entered without her permission. That’s why she had been able to leave the positive pregnancy tests on her desk for the past few days without him finding out. 

She was only about a few weeks along, nowhere near close to showing. She figured she had a couple of months before she had to break the news. This had never exactly been in their plan. It was somewhat an unspoken assumption that they’d never have children — with the lifestyle that Jungkook lived and how busy he always was, it never seemed in the cards. They had used the family planning method for years without difficulty. She had recently recovered from being under the weather and she suspected that threw the cycle of things off somewhere along the lines. 

For now, she tucked the four tests in her top draw, lying next to yet another black pistol. Tears welled in her eyes and she held her cellphone in her hands, contemplating if she should just call him and tell him. 

Her excuse ended up being that he was likely driving and she didn’t want to distract him. 

When she thought it about later, her excuse was that he must be busy at work and she wanted him to focus.

Her excuse when he came home that night, earlier than expected and in a much better mood than the previous day, was that he deserved to relax and she didn’t want to ruin his good day with news she was sure would devastate him.

It hadn’t been something they talked about, even when they got married. He never brought it up, so neither did she. She just loved him almost blindly, a blessing and a curse she was aware of. 

As she held him that night, listening to his soft snores and stroking his hair as he slept, her mind raced and she contemplated what life could look like for them if she confessed and continued the pregnancy. Would he have to give up what made him Jungkook? Would she be stuck at home to care for the child while he continued to place himself in whatever situations he dealt with on a day-to-day basis? She couldn’t fathom that. 

Staring at his sleeping face, she sighed and put her thoughts to rest, enjoying the weight of his body in her arms and eventually drifting off to sleep. 

She wasn’t completely oblivious to everything.

She had long known that Jungkook only wore his wedding band at home. Through some snooping, she found out that he always kept it in the truck, safely tucked away as the only thing in his glove compartment. He thought she didn’t know that he took it off the second he got in the truck to leave for work. Or that he put it back on as soon as he parked in the garage every night. She found out after they had been married for about 3 months, noticing the lack of lines on his finger whenever he washed dishes.

She didn’t think he was throwing himself at women when she wasn’t around. But she did worry that they’d throw themselves at him. She did believe he portrayed himself as single once he left their home. What she didn’t believe was that he was doing it for some adulterous reason. At least that was her prayer. 

She knew more about him than he thought. But she’d never ask him about it.

In 5 years together she hadn’t figured out exactly what he did outside of his security job.

She knew it likely wasn’t legal and that his daily life was surely more dangerous than he let on. She held his promise close to her heart every day; the promise he made to tell her his true occupation — the one that paid for the house, the cars, the suits, the lifestyle — if she ever asked. Truth was, she found herself a little too scared to ask. It’s better to be unaware, she convinced herself. She somehow told herself that it was better to sit at home and be unaware of if her husband would come every night than deal with the fact that the man she loved could be the devil himself.

Ultimatums, definites — two widely different sides of the spectrum.

His love was all consuming like that; thoughtful, selfless, inciting, promising. She had never feared him, not for a single second. But what scared her the most was that she knew she could find out he was the reincarnation of sin himself and she’d still never turn away. He treated her too good, loved her too hard, fucked her too perfect, knew her too well. She’d make any excuse in the world for him and sometimes that terrified her.

So she let him keep his secrets for now. She had hers too. 

Taehyung immersed himself inside of the bubble filled tub, allowing his restless thoughts and sore muscles to relax for the first time that day.

Truthfully, stress was rare for Taehyung — a usually bold and upbeat man who always had a smile on his face. Of course he was human; he had days where work could be tiresome or life concerns threatened to weigh him down. But not only were his fellow bandmates always there for him — his girlfriend of 2 years stood beside him as well. And he couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You’re quiet, honey.”

His large brown eyes turned to the woman he called his, her frame seated on a folded blanket next to the bathtub at his request. The idea was for him to indulge himself in the bath she had prepared for him after he called from dance practice stating how tired he was.

It was suppose to be some alone time for him to unwind — but 2 minutes in he was practically begging her to join him. She mentioned having just showered but still obliged him by sitting next the tub, running her hands through his hair.

The thing about the rarely-stressed Taehyung was that he would never attempt to hide it. That reigned true for every area of his life. If he was upset, he didn’t mind crying. If he was hungry, he didn’t mind eating until he was full and then some. And he didn’t mind expressing exhaustion when he was.

She appreciated that about him; she marveled at the fact that he didn’t attempt to hide an inch of himself from her. It was one of the first things about him that had captivated her.

Her fingertips continued to massage his scalp lightly, his body subconsciously slipping neck deep into the water as bliss consumed him.

He had a habit of melting under her touch in a way that always made her blush, leaving her a bit prideful of the power that she held over him.

More than anything, she was delighted to see him so at peace.

“I want you to relax and clear your mind. If I talk to you, that requires you thinking. Relax, T.”

At the sound of her sweet voice and the feel of her gentle strokes, Taehyung complied.

His lips pressed warm, soft kisses along the woman’s arm as she continued to stroke his hair.

Somehow the action was reminiscent of the relationship they both shared. It was delicate, passionate and calming, burning with desire, yet soft as cotton. The touches, the kisses, the gazes; they both overflowed with love and admiration for one another, assuring both of a love that would never expire.

It had been two years, after all. Two years of dating and dealing with constant separations due to Taehyung’s obligations as one of the biggest musical artist in the world.

But somehow, the passion hadn’t gone cold.

There was a genuine peace and comfort they felt in the presence of one another. An unbreakable bond that had survived a world tour, random last minute separations for company trips and long distance video calls that were sometimes only a few minutes long.

They had survived it all and they couldn’t have been more grateful.

In the tub Taehyung had fallen asleep about 10 minutes post the woman’s caresses, her taking the opportunity to shampoo his hair for him.

Their love was the definition of selfless.

After a while she pondered on whether she should wake him or not, finding herself thinking about his perfect, sun-kissed skin becoming wrinkled under the weight of water.

The idea made her nose scrunch and a small laugh slip from her lips so much so that she chose to wake him.

On her knees she leaned over the tub and ran her dry thumb over his cheek, staring at the sleeping man with eyes full of love.

Overcome with adoration, she leaned forward, kissing his pouty lips slightly. Eyelashes batting softly against his cheeks he slowly began to awaken. Seeing her flustered face hiding a smile as she looked back at him, he beamed at her, heart overcome with love in its purest form.

He was so appreciative of the way she cared for him.

He smelled the strong scent of shampoo on his hair as he began to rise from the tub, meaning she had washed his hair while he was asleep. As he rinsed himself off with the shower head, he pondered whether or not he would ever get used to the fondness they ignited in one another.

In his heart, he prayed that they’d never stray from the practice of loving one another in the most serene way they knew how.

He allowed the water to drain once he was done, taking the cotton towel she held out for him with ease.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, baby.” He breathed, drying his hair partially with the towel before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. She giggled gently into the kiss as small drops of water fell on her shoulder.

“Thankfully you’ll never have to know.”

In a matter of minutes she was seated on the bathroom counter, Taehyung captured in-between her legs with a face full of shaving cream.

“You always do this better than I can.”

His eyes were heavy with love as she gently dragged the razor across his face, mind full of the woman he planned on spending the rest of his days with.

Helping him shave had become a habit when Taehyung was far too tired, or when he just didn’t quite feel like it. When he shaved himself, the process was quick, simple, efficient; when the razor was in her hands, her gentleness extended the session for nearly 10 minutes longer than he was use to but she never noticed. And he didn’t mind.

“I’m a bit of a perfectionist.”

He cupped her thighs with his large hands as she slowly parted her lips in concentration, not daring to meet his eyes that hadn’t stopped staring at her.

He refused to look anywhere else or even grab his phone as he watched her facial expressions in adoration.

Within 20 minutes Taehyung was freshly shaven and dressed in his favorite silk pajamas, clinging to the king bed as he awaited her arrival from winding down the house for the night.

It wasn’t long before she arrived in the shared bedroom, body clad with an tshirt of Taehyung’s and a cute scarf wrapped around her head.

Though he watched her get into bed nearly every night these days, it had been a while since she had worn one of his shirts. It made his heart beat a little faster, endeared at the sight.

Seeing her in his clothes briefly gave him a thought of what a combination of the both of them might look like.

Maybe his stunning brown eyes, her perfect nose and plump cheeks.

He knew it was something that he wanted — eventually at least. Yet, the steps he had to take to get to that point were…nerve racking to him.

“Taehyung, why aren’t you asleep?”

The use of his full name drew Taehyung completely away from his sleepy daze, his large brown eyes watching her lift the comforter and slide into the bed beside him.

She laid for all of two seconds before his body rolled to her side of the mattress, completely engulfing her in his arms.

“You know I have trouble sleeping when you’re not in bed yet.” His tired voice hummed into her neck, running a tingle through the woman’s body.

“Plus, I never got a chance to thank you for taking care of me tonight. You think I’m letting that go unnoticed?” Taehyung’s warm lips that were pressed against her neck began to lay warm kisses along her collarbone.

“I love you. An unbelievable amount. You’re so good to me.”

He breathed his words as he continued to press kisses along her jawline, feeling the way she exhaled in bliss at his touch.

“You’re my world.”

His fingers slipped under the large tshirt in search of her hips, gently stroking the flesh with his fingertips. Once he made contact she released a quick breath, goosebumps covering her skin.

“I love you too, Taehyung. I’d do anything for you.”

“Anything?” He smirked as he lifted the shirt higher, pressing kisses to her hips and earning an immediate shudder from the woman above, her eyes closing as his kisses spread across her stomach.

She knew what he was asking for.

She saw it in the way his eyes looked up at her, half lidded and covered in a lust that made her nearly combust at the sight.

He was breathtaking in his own right but he was exceptionally beautiful like this — laid between her legs, honey skin flushed with lust, practically begging to taste her on his tongue.

“Anything baby.”

He hummed in satisfaction, a devious but kind smile on his face and he pressed kisses to her wet clit, earning an immediate whimper from her.

“Moaning already? That was just one little kiss, baby.“

He pressed another kiss, this time to her folds, earning another whimper from above. He smiled as he slowly began to dip his tongue into the folds, warm arousal wet on his tongue immediately.

He moaned at the taste, bringing one of his gentle fingers to her entrance.

There was an art form in the way Taehyung tasted her; it was her favorite thing, watching him devour her so wholly — as if she was his last meal.

He always found himself so focused on her pleasure that he often got carried away; so carried away that he hardly ever noticed the way he would begin to grind his hips back and forth, his dick solid and aching, precum beginning to slip through the front of his silk pajama pants.

It drove her insane, watching him so caught up in her; so drunk off the way she tasted.

By now he was 3 fingers deep, lips sucking gently on her clit as she nearly cried from pleasure.

She wanted to tease him; tell him how filthy he looked fucking himself off the taste of her. But she was cumming around his fingers with a cry of pleasure long before she could, his name leaving her lips as she tugged on his hair.

The slight pull of his strands was all it took before he was pulling away from her wet folds, burying his face into her thigh with a groan as he desperately released himself into his pants. He gripped her thighs to steady himself as he slowly rocked back and forth, riding out his high as she continued to tug lightly on his hair.

Pure ecstasy.

When the next day rolled around, the woman wasn’t awake until half past ten.

Even once she woke, she didn’t allow herself to move too soon, tired body nearly engraved into the comforter after the night before.

She only opened her eyes when she sensed the coolness to her side. The chilly sheets indicated to her that no one had inhabited them for a while.

“Taehyung?”

The woman’s voice, heavy with sleep, was as loud as she could spare, finally lifting her tired body away from her sheets. As her senses began to come-to, the familiar aroma of pancakes began to fill her nose.

She quickly concluded that Taehyung must be cooking.

With a hum of understanding she dragged herself to the bathroom to freshen up before heading downstairs to see her beloved boyfriend.

The man she loved most in the world.

It wasn’t until she had grabbed her toothbrush from its handle and opened the cap that she had noticed the ring on her finger.

In all its glory, the beautiful 4-carat diamond shined, heavy on her hand in a way she couldn’t believe she didn’t notice as soon as she awakened.

With the water still running the woman nearly dropped her toothbrush in the sink, staring at the ring until she felt her mouth grow dry.

She would have never brought anything like it for herself. It was far too expensive and extravagant to be one of the few casual rings she owned. She was positive that Taehyung had never purchased any rings for her; they weren’t her usual jewelry staple and he knew that. Her mind raced as she shook her head in confusion.

Once she got her bearings she turned off the running water and nearly marched down the small set of stairs, heart racing in anticipation and search of answers.

She turned the thin corner to walk into the kitchen, eyes finding a sleepy Taehyung beaming fondly at her. Immediately he peaked his head from behind the bouquet of white roses he held close to his chest.

Her mouth was slightly agape as he handed her the flowers, her hands shaking and palms clammy.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

Fondly Taehyung smiled, staring at her shocked expression and trying to gauge her thoughts.

Not trusting her shaking voice, the woman proceeded to simply lift her hand, turning it towards her boyfriend in search of an explanation. Taehyung kissed her forehead as he took her the ring-clad hand into his, smile never leaving his lips.

The way his brown eyes danced around the diamond made the woman’s stomach flip, watching him study it closely as if he had never seen it before.

In all honesty, he was admiring the way it looked on her finger — just right.

“It’s a beautiful, ring, don’t you think? It reminded me so much of you.”

He had envisioned it for the entirety of their relationship — a diamond of his choice being placed on her finger as a small symbol of the life commitment he wanted to make to her.

And after months of talking to Namjoon and Hoseok, who were happily married to their respective wives, he knew he was ready to take the biggest step he could in this life.

He had been beyond nervous.

Taehyung had awaken at 5 in the morning to rehearse his written lines for his proposal. Yet, the more he stared at the ring and the woman he loved that stood before him with cutest look of confusion on her face, the less he remembered his perfectly prepared speech.

With a heart full of love and a mind full of memories, Taehyung quickly got down on a single knee in the middle of the kitchen, holding his girlfriend’s shaking hand in his own.

That was when the tears really began to flow.

The pair began crying as their eyes met, taking a second to embrace this moment; standing in the weight of what it meant.

“Goodness, baby, don’t make me cry yet!”

Taehyung chuckled as he held her hand more tightly, wiping his tears with his free hand. The woman above him gave a small chuckle as she tried her best to stop breaking down, wanting to give him a chance to speak what had been on his heart for far too long.

Tearfully, he stared into her large eyes that awaited him, trying to calm his heart so he could speak from it with sincerity.

“In the two years that I’ve known you, you’ve shown me that love is an action, rather than an emotion. I’ve watch you continuously love me and care for me; embrace the people i love as if they’re your own. You’ve truly shown me what love is and made me feel an unbreakable attachment to you. I’ve fallen in love with your smile, your hugs, your touch; the way you comfort me. The way you never turn your back on me.”

He released a breath but kept his genuine eyes glued to her, watching her put a shaking hand to her mouth as tears continued to fall.

“I knew I loved you when I couldn’t stand to be away from you for too long; when I was on tour and I’d rush to the hotel so I could call you. Ever since I met you I haven’t envisioned a life that doesn’t have you by my side. It’s all I want. You’re flawless, hardworking, determined, lovely, beautiful — serene in all that you do; loving me in spite of my faults and flaws. I want to spend every day I have on this earth with you, being the man of your dreams and loving you with every inch of me — if you’d have me. Will you marry me?”

By now, tears nearly made the woman incoherent. The pure surprise of it all made her tremble, but Taehyung’s actual words were what brought her to her sobbing state.

Taehyung gripped her hand more tightly and kissed it gently, almost as if to playfully remind her that he was waiting for a response.

No matter how obvious she made her answer by her actions, his heart still shook with anticipation.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Taehyung. Yes, yes, yes!” A beaming smile poked through the her cries, tearstained cheeks rising to form a smile that rivaled his own.

Taehyung jumped to his feet hurriedly, immediately cupping the sides of the woman’s face with his large hands as he pressed his lips onto hers.

The kiss was slow and gentle, their lips moving in unison that lingered with a new found hunger. Adrenaline rushed through their veins as they held one another, continuing to share tearful kisses.

As they pulled apart briefly for air, the pair stared at her hand that rested just over his heart.

Their eyes fixated on the diamond ring before meeting one another’s gaze, glossy eyes filled with love and warmth.

This was the start of a new chapter — their first step towards forever.

_________

Staring into the mirror, you graciously studied your own reflection. The faint sound of wedding bells echoed distantly in your ears, coupled with the millions of warm wishes and congratulatory words you had heard throughout the day.

By now the hot shower had washed every inch of wedding haze from your skin, but the adrenaline and the memories still lingered. It seemed nearly impossible to attempt to calm the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears as you thought about how your perfect day had been just that.

From the start, the day had felt like a dream. A year full of planning had resulted in a wedding beyond your wildest imagination. Your dress was stunning, tailored to perfection. Every person you held dear was in attendance, their eyes full of fond and happiness as they celebrated you and the love you had cultivated so beautifully over the years.

Even with every little detail falling into place, nothing made the day more perfect than the man who you met at the end of the aisle — the one you finally had the pleasure of calling your husband.

Yeonjun.

The man who had cried before, during and after your vows to him. The man whom you held more closely to your heart than anyone else on the planet. There wasn’t a soul you loved or trusted more.

Your palms smoothed down the fabric of your white lingerie set as you continued to study your reflection. Soft curls graced your shoulders, a nice break from the updo you had sported all day. You couldn’t recall another day in your life where you had felt more beautiful.

A patient knock on the door drew you away from your thoughts.

“Baby? Everything okay?” Yeonjun’s rough but sweet voice sounded through the door, immediately pulling a soft smile to your lips.

You both had arrived at the villa around an hour ago. You had managed to escape his plethora of kisses temporarily to rid yourself of your after party dress, shower and slip into the white lingerie set you had purchased solely for this occasion.

Taking a deep breath you quickly covered yourself in a plush robe before walking towards the bathroom door, opening it enough to fully see the man you loved. Immediately his worried expression turned to one of fond after noting that you were safe, but his curious eyes never left you.

Even after all the festivities had commenced, he still managed to look like something out of a magazine. He had shed himself of his suit jacket, leaving him in only a white dress shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, a few top buttons undone. His suit pants were still perfectly in place, fitted to perfection like everything else about him.

He had an effortless beauty that never failed to leave you speechless. He’d say the same about you.

“You’re not suppose to see me yet, sir.”

A glimmer of amusement flashed across Yeonjun’s face as he reached for your cheek through the opening in the door. His thumb immediately brushed the softness of your skin and you melted into his palm before realizing it, eyes closing at the comfort of his touch.

“I can’t help that I can hear you overthinking from outside, beautiful. Husband things.”

You playfully rolled your eyes before opening the door all the way. Yeonjun slowly stepped inside as if the space was sacred, pressing his other hand to your cheek before letting his lips linger on your forehead. His forehead kisses had a funny way of making your world stand still, if only for a few moments in time. Your hands gripped his wrists as you closed your eyes, taking yet another deep breath.

“I think it’s sinking in to me that it’s all done. All the wedding planning is finally finished. No more late nights figuring out venues or stressing over seating arrangements.”

Eyebrows furrowed in thought, Yeonjun moved his hands from your cheeks to your shoulders, turning you towards the mirror. He immediately began to work away at the tension in your shoulders, earning a hum of content from your lips.

“You worked hard for this day, baby. You put your vision on paper and you made it come true. I promise you can relax now.”

Somehow, Yeonjun never gave himself enough credit. Though the wedding was exactly how you envisioned, Yeonjun made sure it happened that way. He hired everyone he could, from the wedding planner to the caterer you insisted on having. Though that didn’t stop you from obsessing over each little detail, he took every ounce of stress that he could from your shoulders. You were forever grateful.

“It wouldn’t have been perfect without you, Jun. You made all my dreams come to life.” Staring at your reflection in the mirror, a kind smile covered his face as he pressed his lips to your neck.

“It’s my job to make all your dreams come true. And I’ll keep doing it for as long as we live.”

Leaning your head deeper into his chest, your gaze met his in a gentle invitation for him to kiss your lips. Without an ounce of hesitation, he obliged.

It was amazing that after all these years you both had mastered the art of each other. Drawn by a gravity neither of you could explain, you both understood each other well beyond the need for words.

“You know what I’m thinking?” Yeonjun murmured, pressing small kisses to your lips that made you softly laugh. You raised an eyebrow to urge him to continue.

“I’m wondering how it’s possible that after all these years, you’re still the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.” Yeonjun wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pressing his cheek against yours and you prayed he couldn’t feel the heat that rose on your cheeks.

”You’re too sweet, Jun.”

“I’m honest, baby.” As Yeonjun spoke, his lips pressed kisses to your jaw, his fingertips beginning to playfully tease the belt of your robe. The loose plush knot was the only thing that kept yourself from being exposed to your husband.

“Now when are you going to take off this robe and let me see you?”

A sweet laugh slipped past your lips before you could catch it, your gaze once again meeting Yeonjun’s in the bathroom mirror.

“I’m thinking about it.”

Taking his hand, you led him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Once you were a few feet in front of the bed you let go of his hand. Yeonjun took it upon himself to take a seat at the end of the bed, leaning back on his hands as if he sensed what you were about to do.

Your fingers toyed shyly with the knot on your robe as you stood a few feet before him, heart racing like it always did but with increased fervor. You watched his every move — his brown eyes glued to the rotation of your nervous fingers, his own legs shifting ever so slightly in desire and anticipation.

Before you lost confidence, you slowly began to undo the knot.

Yeonjun held his breath as he watched your every move, eyes alternating between your fingers and the shy expression on your face.

Once the plush hit the floor, Yeonjun released a weighted exhale you understood all too well, eyes scanning your figure.

“Baby, you look incredible. All this for little ole me?”

He stood and stepped forward, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before his eyes went back to scanning your figure. The soft white was radiant against your skin tone, giving you an angelic glow that was the exact opposite of anything your husband was thinking at the moment.

“I thought you might like it.”

Guiding you towards the bed, your husband placed a gentle hand behind your head before laying you down softly against the mattress. You couldn’t help but feel a little exposed — his intense gaze on you as you lay before him in lingerie, curls splayed across the bed. A few strands draped over your shoulders, breasts slightly overflowing from the cups of your outfit; bare-faced, beautiful.

“You look so beautiful, princess. I’ve been thinking about having you under me all day.”

With gentle fingertips Yeonjun lightly graced the plump of your breasts as he spoke, earning an immediate shiver from you.

“That’s what’s been on your mind on our very special day?” You teased, watching your husband who held a smirk on his lips.

“Believe it or not your husband is capable of forming more than one thought sometimes, baby girl.”

Despite the sexual tension in the air you laughed, bright and playful even as Yeonjun kissed the top of your breasts with a sly smile. Your fingers tangled in his hair while one of his hands stroked your torso.

“God. We’ve been together for five years and I still can’t get enough of you.”

Yeonjun pressed a lingering kiss to your flushed lips, sending an immediate shiver down your spine. Your hands immediately moved to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer and deepening the kiss. The smirk that formed on his lips as he continued to kiss you told you that he hadn’t missed the way you craved him. His hand that wasn’t supporting the weight of his own body continued to caress your torso, warmth penetrating your lingerie and settling deep where you craved him most.

After all these years you were still stunned at the way a simple kiss from him could undo you. At the touch of his lips to yours you felt every inch of his love for you; utter devotion and admiration all in one.

Normally he’d tease you a little for being so eager, so hungry for him. But not tonight. Not after you had both entered a union so sacred and the air was still so fresh with that purity.

He’d spare you this one time.

You were the first to break for air, panting breaths brushing his lips as foreheads and noses touched. You rested both hands against his cheeks, eyes closing as you tried (and failed) to settle the rapid beating of your own heart.

Somehow he still made you feel like this — giddy like a school girl under the heat of his gaze; nearly unable to form a thought under the influence of his attention.

“You’ve been waiting all day for this too, haven’t you baby? Been waiting on me to take care of you?”

His warm hands graced your thighs, taking the time to simply breathe you in. The smell of your body lotion, the way you tensed underneath his touch in anticipation before relaxing in familiarity. He didn’t miss the way you quickly nodded as you eyed his every move.

“Can I taste you, baby?”

Your thighs quivered in his hold, your head dropping back on the pillow as you gripped the covers around you.

“Yes, Jun.” You whispered, your throat dry as you closed your eyes, feeling your husband smile against the plush of your thighs. He began to press kisses into the flesh, the pool between your legs growing with each kiss.

“Thank you, baby girl.“

As he laid between your legs he lifted both your thighs to his shoulders, leaving kisses in his path as he worked his way toward your center. It was all overwhelming. The grip of his long, slender fingers, the way your body reacted just knowing he was near.

You heard a soft chuckle from between your thighs, feeling a soft kiss pressed to your slick folds through the convenient slit in your lingerie.

“Baby, you’re already soaked and I haven’t even touched you yet.” With a satisfied groan Yeonjun began to press gentle kisses to your clit, tongue gracing it ever so gently. You shook under his hold, a soft whine leaving your lips at the contact.

“Such a good girl. You respond to me so well.”

Your thighs began to tremble as his tongue explored your folds, tongue alternating between licking you clean and gently kissing your clit. Your husband hummed in pleasure as your whimpers filled the room, your fingers tightening their grip in his hair and pulling him impossibly closer to your core. You couldn’t help the way your hips began to roll ever so slightly, the sound of your husband devouring you nearly echoing off the walls.

“You missed this, princess? Missed me eating this pretty cunt? Missed cumming on my face?”

You tried your best not to close your thighs around his head but Yeonjun did nearly nothing to help the cause. He kept both arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping them open as he continued to fill his mouth with your essence.

“God, Jjunie.”

Your whines filled the air as you moved one had to the comforter for support, increasing the speed of your hips just slightly as you rode the warm tongue inside of you.

“I’ll take that as a yes, baby girl.”

One of his hands continued to grip your thigh while the other moved from your waist to one of your flushed breasts. He kneaded the warm flesh in his hand, thoughts racing over whether or not he should pause his ministrations to take your hardened nipples into his mouth.

If only you didn’t taste so good.

“Jun, Jun, Jun, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Tears grew at the corner of your eyes as you tightened your grip on the comforter and the poor strands of your husband’s hair.

“Cum for me, pretty baby. Want you to cum all over my face.”

You looked down at his head between your legs in just enough time to catch his dark, lust glazed eyes staring directly into yours, his tongue increasing speed as he lapped at your wetness.

“God, god, god—“

Your whimpers filled the space as you fell mercy to your husband’s incredible mouth, his lips lightly sucking your clit as you fell apart. Yeonjun tightened his grip on your thighs as your cries echoed, him burying his face impossible deeper into your heat.

“That’s my fucking girl. You taste so damn good, baby.”

After a few minutes of him lazily taking his fill of you, he climbed your body until his slick lips melted against yours. The taste of you on his mouth was enough to make you breathlessly moan into his kisses, brain fuzzy in the most satisfying way possible.

“I love you, Mrs. Choi.”

You exhaled for air as you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, fingers gripping soft strands of his hair as your eyes met his in the sliver of moonlight that filled the space.

“I love you too, Jun. So much.”

Slowly his clothes began to slip away at the joint dance between his hands and yours, lips locking between every piece of clothing tossed aside.

Yeonjun was still the man you fell in love with 5 years ago; youthful, full of light, loving you with every inch of himself that he could. He was a lover of your attention, catering to your every move and mood. But somehow time had only made him more beautiful.

Once he was fully naked you watched as he took his cock in his hand, stroking the thick length a few times before teasingly brushing his head against your clit. The sensation was enough to make you whimper, your husband leaning down and teasingly kissing the underside of your jaw.

“You think you’re ready for me, baby? You’re so fucking soaked; think I’ll just slip out, huh?”

You nodded quickly, barely hearing anything he said, solely focused on the feel of his cock being so close yet so far.

The slow push of him entering you elicited a sultry moan that he captured in his mouth, your body tensing under his embrace.

No matter how many times he entered you, the pleasant stretch was never something you had gotten use to. His grunts turned into moans as he began to slowly rock inside of you.

“There you go, baby. Taking me so well.”

Your nails that weren’t buried in his hair dug into the soft skin of his back, another whimper leaving your lips that he caught the tail end of with a kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his waist once he was fully inside, drawing him impossibly closer. He buried his face in your neck, a low groan melting against your skin.

“Fuck, baby, you know what that does to me.”

Yeonjun groaned as he tightening one of your thighs around his waist, drawing you both flush against each other.

You opened your eyes briefly to take in the beautiful sight above you. Yeonjun with his eyebrows scrunched the way you loved, eyes closed, lips parted in bliss as he tried to keep himself from losing his mind with every thrust of his hips.

Overwhelmed with love you pulled him gently by his neck until his lips graced yours once more, locking him in a heated kiss.

The rhythm of his hips slowed as he focused on the taste of your lips, his hand on your thigh caressing the goosebumps that had begun to cover your skin.

Yeonjun had always been known for his stamina but you could tell he was close, feeling the way his lips trembled against your skin as the speed of his strokes increased. The feel of him so deep in your walls made you dizzy, your body arching towards him in an attempt to be impossibly closer.

“You feel so fucking good, baby girl. Gonna make me cum real good, yeah?”

In a daze you nodded your head, his words making you tighten your walls around him. At the grip Yeonjun moaned, stopping himself from nearly collapsing against your chest. He mustered all the strength he could to hold himself upright, hips rolling into you with enough strength to leave your mouth open with a gasp.

“Look at me, baby. Open your eyes.”

Somehow he had managed to pin your hands above your head, his fingers intertwined with yours as his thrusts impossibly deepened. When you managed to open your eyes, you met Yeonjun’s. He immediately drank in your expression — eyes wet with tears, pupils blown, lips parted in ecstasy as you struggled to form a thought that wasn’t Yeonjun, Yeonjun, Yeonjun.

That sight was enough to send him over the edge.

“Fuck, baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming—“

His sweat slicked forehead pressed against yours, pants blending together, breath mingling into a heated kiss. At the taste of your lips he stilled inside your walls, cumming deep inside of you with a muffled groan and a slew of curses against your lips.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as you two stayed glued together.

Ever the insatiable, Yeonjun continued to slowly slide in and out of your leaking cunt, his soft thumb slowly circling your clit to the rhythm of his kisses.

He could tell by the way you clung to him that your second orgasm was near. It always was when you watched the way he lost himself inside of you, leaving you soaked, messy and full of him. His eyes stayed locked on yours as his thumb continued to work, savoring your expression of pleasure as he brought you closer to the brink.

Your thighs trembled and you whined in his hold, your eyes nearly pleading to him for mercy had it not felt so, so good and had you not been so, so close.

masterlist

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“Fuck, baby. Just like that.”

Yeonjun growled at the feeling of your warm, plush lips wrapped around his cock, his length filling your throat perfectly.

By now you knew he was close. 

You had come to memorize his tells — the way his breath hitched, his left leg twitched, his fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. The way his eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lip — as if it was the only thing keeping him from spilling down the promise land that was your throat.

From your place on your knees, head nestled between his thighs, you looked up — heavy lashes batting seductively as your gaze met his. Your skin was covered in a little glitter, light pink eyeshadow sparkling, chin wet with saliva and his precum that threatened to drip on your white two-piece set.

Heavenly.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

Yeonjun’s grip tightened on the leather sofa as his sweaty hands attempted to grip anything that might save him from you right now. 

He was addicted to the way you looked at him as if he was dinner and you were insatiable. The way you alternated between swirling your tongue around his length and swallowing his cock as if he was something you’d never get enough of. The way your eyes never met his until you knew he was close and your gaze would push him right over the edge.

You pressed one last kiss to his tip before you felt his cock twitch against your lips, your instinct kicking in and you immediately swallowing his dick down your throat. Yeonjun gripped your strands of hair tightly in his fingers but soft against your scalp, eyes closing as he threw his head back in ecstasy. Spurts of cum painted your throat white in a matter of seconds, Yeonjun’s melodic moans filling the soundproof room. 

The sound went straight between your thighs, increasing your arousal as you swallowed every trace of him. You were addicted to the taste of him on your tongue; familiar by now, yet always leaving a void behind that left you hungry for more.

Self indulgently, you released the length only to begin softly sucking on his head, pulling out any last bit of cum that had the audacity to be stingy towards you. As he came down from his high, Yeonjun moved his hands from gripping your hair to cupping your face. His back slumped against the couch as he caught his breath, feeling you finally release him after a few seconds to avoid overstimulating him. 

“You’re barely lasting more than 5 minutes, Junnie. I thought I trained you better than that?”

Your head rested against his thigh, playful smirk on your full lips as you eyed his playful, satisfied expression.

“That was back when you were showing me mercy, baby.” His thumb brushed your cheek softly, pad of his thumb caressing it gently as he stared at you under the fluorescent lights. 

So beautiful, so youthful. Yet so far from his.

He always came to see you.

Every Saturday night when he was in town Yeonjun would drop by the strip club where you worked. He’d request the same private room and you as his dancer. The staff at the front of the club would take a few rolled up bills from his hand and walk him back to the room like clockwork.

You were usually in the middle of a dance when you’d get the signal from a staff member that Yeonjun had arrived. You often fought your eagerness, finishing up your routine for the loyal crowd you had gathered first. 

Plus, it was fun to keep him waiting. It got him riled up, anxious for the moment you walked into the door to claim his soul.

The very first meeting with Yeonjun caught you off guard. You were use to men requesting private dances — it came with the territory of being a stripper and it provided you an opportunity to earn extra cash. You had a few clients who had been disrespectful or overstepped your boundaries, but those were few and far inbetween.

Yet, the name on the list wasn’t one you recognized.

When you walked into the room, however, you did. Seated on the couch was a body you hadn’t been quick to forget; a tall, slender man with a fit frame dressed in a black hoodie. His brown eyes bore into yours, him standing up to greet you with an extended hand.

He was breathtaking.

“Good evening. I’m Yeonjun.” His deep voice and the way his extended hand gripped yours stirred something inside your stomach that you pushed away for later. Maybe when you clocked out from your shift tonight and laid in bed, vibrator in one hand and him on your mind.

“You look familiar. I think I remember you from a couple weeks ago. You watched a few of my dances from the back tables.”

“You noticed?”

“I have a pretty good eye, sweetheart. Any reason you requested me?”

“You’re confident, sexy. And I like how you move. You make it look effortless.” 

You were thankful the dim lights hid your blush as you released his hand, walking towards the pole that stood in the center of the room.

“Good answer, handsome. Can I dance for you?”

“Please do.”

He kept his hands to himself, throwing money carefully around you as he watched you with an awe that encouraged your every movement. You asked if he had any specific song requests but he simply stated he wanted to watch you dance to whatever made you feel the most alive. So you did. When the 30 minute session was complete, Yeonjun left with a hard on that nearly made him dizzy and you left $2,000 dollars richer. 

At the end he thanked you for your time and left so quickly that you thought you’d never see him again.

It only took a week for you to realize the real reason he had scurried away so fast.

During his second visit, you both had broken nearly every rule in the strip club.

No touching (dancers or yourself).

No kissing.

No masturbating.

No sexual favors (with or without payment.)

Dances only.

Yeonjun slipped you $1,000 dollars immediately when he arrived and asked if you both could discuss an arrangement. 

You were more than happy to hear him out.

He asked if he could just watch you work — stroke himself to the way you moved; admire how fluid you were as he pleasured himself to the thought of being able to touch you. 

You agreed.

And it was pure bliss — you moving ever so gracefully on the pole as his hand stroked his cock, the soft, wet sounds of his skin making it so hard for you to focus but driving you to complete each dance to perfection at the same time. His length and girth made you feel faint, even from your position, but you couldn’t look away. Your eyes were glued to him as you pressed your body against the pole at the end of a dance, pole sliding between your breasts and your thighs as you slid down slowly, teasingly — almost mean. He eyed your panties, one wrong move away from leaving nothing left to the imagination. 

That was all it took for him to inhale a deep breath, groans slipping from his lips as you watched him pump himself to release. Cum covered his hand, the bottom of his hoodie and his pants as he exhaled through his release, head tilted back to expose his neck in a way that made you hungry. By now the next song had begun but you stood still, mouth slightly agape as you watched him with a desire so strong you could hardly think straight.

That night you counted all the money he had thrown when your eyes were glued elsewhere. You left with a total of $2,500 dollars that night. 

By the third meeting, you were dying to have him inside of you.

You had spent the week apart pleasuring yourself to the mental imagine of Yeonjun cumming on more occasions than you could count; found your fingers and vibrator on your clit more times that week than you’d ever admit.

He had watched your eyes nearly beg for him the second you finished your dance on the floor and walked into the private room. The lust in your eyes made it clear that you were unable to get the image of his hand stroking his thick length out of your mind all week.

So it was only right that things escalated. 

As was routine he slipped you another $1,000 dollars to start, which you quickly tossed to the side before asking him if you could try something a little different for this session.

His beautiful brown eyes, heavily overcasted with lust and intrigue gleamed under the dim, fluorescent lights. It made you realize that this was the first time you had ever been this close to him.

You were practically flush against his chest, both breathing the same air. The smell of his bergamot heavy cologne and mint-fresh breath filled your space instead of the room. 

“Anything you want, beautiful.” 

In a matter of minutes you had him pinned in seated position on the couch, pants and underwear fallen at his ankles as you rode him into oblivion. He stretched you so good, filled you so perfectly once his fingers opened you up. You both were unaware of who made the first move but as soon as you had slipped fully onto him both your lips were locked, kiss passionate and sinful as your tongues explored one another’s mouths. He tasted like mints and expensive wine — a combination you grew to love in all of 0.01 seconds. 

Watching him fall apart was more beautiful than any sight you had ever seen — the way sweat built on his hairline, the way he bit his lips as he tried to hold himself back from cumming too soon. As you rode him, one hand gripping his hair now, his eyes were almost pleading —  begging you to show him mercy, go easy on him for the first time. But you never did.

And you continued not to. You left with $3,000 dollars that night. 

By the 5th meeting he had your body laid out on the table as he fucked into you, filling your body with two loads that left you beyond full and satiated. Him fucking you had given you two mind blowing, unbelievable orgasms. But you weren’t prepared for him to carry you to the couch, lay your body down and crawl between your legs, his warm tongue lapping eagerly at his cum that spilled out of you.

You let out a whimper you didn’t expect, followed by a moan you knew was far too loud as he slipped his tongue inside of you, alternating between sucking your clit and licking out his cum.  Orgasm three found you far too quick — it was fast, violent, mind numbing as your walls clinched around nothing but the warmth of his tongue and the sensation of his lips where you craved him most.

His words of praise that night echoed throughout your mind for weeks to follow:

“So beautiful, baby.”

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Love watching your face when I fuck you. I know you need this dick, you’ve been waiting for it all week haven’t you? So greedy, baby girl.”

“I know you can cum again for me. You’re doing so good, baby, don’t stop.” 

That 5th meeting was the one you could truly never forget. You hadn’t bothered to dance for him first, there was no need. Your outfit was extra skimpy that night and Yeonjun paid $3,500 dollars in total that time.

It made you think he had planned to devour you like that — like his intention was to send you home with your knees nearly giving out and your brain so wrapped in post-coital pleasure that you didn’t even remember driving home. Because that’s what happened.

As weeks passed your normal, public dances continued but they started a little earlier. First 5 minutes early, then 10. Thankfully your regulars hadn’t complained, simply happy to see you perform no matter the time frame. 

Instead of keeping him waiting, you nearly jumped off the stage when staff waived that Yeonjun had arrived. Some days you performed a quick, teasing dance for him. Other days your lips found his as soon as you closed the door behind you. He’d pull your body into his by wrapping his arms around your torso, desperate to feel every inch of you that he could.

When you climbed on top of him, his hold would remain the same as he thrusted into you, fucking you dumb and taking control. That 7th session had left you light headed, floating on a cloud as he kissed your neck and bare chest, your head laid back as you melted into his touch and your shared afterglow. 

If the staff noticed the hickies on your neck that 7th night, they never questioned it.  

It was the 12th meeting before you had spoken to him about Cheyenne.

Cheyenne was a fairly new dancer you had come to get along with; talented but fresh. She heard rumors about the connection you had with Yeonjun (only about how often he visited and how he only ever requested you) and she wanted a piece.

You thought about it for a couple of minutes, then you didn’t object. Partly because now the eyes of the staff had started to linger more heavily and whispers of you leaving your shift with your bag a little heavier than everyone else’s began to circulate.

So it would do good to put the rumors to rest for the staff to see someone else walking into the room with you this time.

Plus, you had a certain idea you couldn’t get out of your head.

“She’s pretty.” Yeonjun mumbled as your lips ghosted over his cock, one hand stroking him as you eyed him with lustful eyes. You had introduced the idea to him at the end of your last session and he briefly met with Cheyenne afterwards. You told him to think about it, give you an answer the next time he came by. Which was the next Saturday night, faithfully.

“She’s worth it, I promise.” 

“Don’t want me all to yourself?” His fingers ran through your hair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he felt his orgasm near. His eyes nearly rolled as you trailed your tongue along a vein that weakened him every time.

You pulled off of him with a pop, lightly smacking his length against your cheek as you smiled up at him. 

“I can share sometimes. I’ll have rules in place, though. Don’t worry.” He nodded a quick response at your words before you took him back into your mouth, preparing to milk him the way only you knew how.

The next visit, he came with $3,000 dollars in hand to start. This time when he entered the room, you and Cheyenne were already on the pole, jointly twirling in unison — a true sight to behold.

Yeonjun was quick to lock the door, eager to see what you had in mind. You walked over to him, eyes giving him a warning not to kiss you like the usual greeting you two had developed; though you partially trusted Cheyenne, you could never get too comfortable in an industry of jealous women and money. So you opted for giving him a brief hug instead. A small chuckle escaped his lips; you pinched the back of his arm in secret to keep him quiet.

You ran over the rules with them both, making sure they were both okay with the plan before proceeding.

For Cheyenne — no kissing him anywhere, no leaving marks on him, no swallowing his cum. 

For Yeonjun — no touching, period. No gripping hair like he loved, no holding the couch like he sought to do when he was losing control. Just his arms at his side, obedient as you took control of the room.

Both parties agreed.

You thought it’d be best to do something small - test the waters and see how you felt, how Yeonjun reacted. So you settled on a blowjob. 

Cheyenne positioned herself between his legs, lips wrapping around his length immediately, eager. Yeonjun briefly eyed her lips wrapped around him, humming softly in pleasure before looking up to meet your eyes.

Tonight, you opted for the upper hand.

Yeonjun’s eyes never left you as you sat on the infamous table you both had come to know so well. He followed as you spread your legs, putting yourself on full display in a way that made him gasp. Cheyenne continued to suck him with fevour, but his eyes were glued to the way you slipped two fingers just past your entrance, juices coating your digits just before you teased your clit.

Yeonjun’s hands stayed at his side but he disobediently gripped at the couch, eyes closing as he leaned his head against the wall. He was overcome with pleasure — watching you, feeling her. His cheeks were pink, flushed with desire and desperation, hair sticking to his forehead, lips kissable and waiting for you. You thought he looked beautiful like that; wrapped up in longing and bliss.

At the thought of him inside you, you finally took your two fingers and slowly rocked them inside of yourself, scissoring your entrance teasingly. You closed your eyes in pleasure, leaning back and rhythmically thrusting your fingers in and out. It had been a week too long since he was inside of you. He always made you feel so cared for, emptying your mind so you could only focus on him and the way he fucked your lights out.

You figured you were only a minute in before you heard his hoarse, sexed voice fill the room.

“Please come here, baby. I need you.”

Your eyes glistened as you chuckled, removing your wet fingers and making your way towards Yeonjun, who trailed your every step with his eyes. When you stood next to him your slick fingers brushed against his lips, him easily taking your fingers into his mouth as he sucked off your arousal. 

“Fuck.” You muttered almost painfully, mouth coming down to press kisses to the side of his neck as he made sure to suck every inch. You regretted not recording the moment, but the image of his eyes glued to yours as he sucked your fingers and another woman sucked his cock wouldn’t leave your mind anytime soon anyways. 

Without a word, you dropped to your knees, Yeonjun spreading his legs further so that he could make space for both Cheyenne and yourself. He followed your every move, your eyes never leaving his face. He watched as you stuck your tongue out, slowly running it up the side of his length as Cheyenne did the same with the other side.

“What the fuck.” He muttered, mind hazy as he reached for your hair, threading his fingers through.

Rule broken. 

You’d discuss that with him later when it didn’t feel so good. He tugged softly at your strands before bringing your head closer. You opted to lick the bottom part of his length as Cheyenne sucked his head, mascara wet, face soaked in saliva and remnants of Yeonjun. 

After looking at her face your eyes drifted to Yeonjun’s, you both making perfect, lustful eye contact as you switched places with Cheyenne. Your tongue flicked at his length a few times before sucking the head and that’s when you felt it  — the familiar twitch of his length, the shake of his left leg, the panting of breath that began to increase. You brought a hand to Cheyenne’s waist, gently nudging her aside, leaving Yeonjun and his heavy cock all to yourself. 

“Gonna swallow all of my cum, baby? You’re so good for me, fuck.”

In a matter of seconds you had him down your throat, both his hands pulling you impossibly closer to him as he released his stripes of cum down your throat.

Even at the end, his eyes were all on you.

He paid Cheyenne and she disappeared down the hall to clean up, leaving you both alone to continue past the scheduled time, like you always did.

Once she was gone you were immediately laid out across the table by Yeonjun, body completely naked and aching as he devoured you. It was your fault really — you left him hungry from the taste you had given him shortly before. He couldn’t leave without having you on his breath, knowing that he had satisfied you.

“Next time just me and you?”

Afterwards he leaned against the closed door frame, his fingers softly laced into your hair, your lips pressing a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist as you met his eyes.

“You didn’t like the company?”

“Nothing feels as good as you do.” His other hand grabbed your waist, pulling you closer so that your chest was against torso. He pressed his lips against yours, the familiar sensation making you nearly weak inside his arms. It wasn’t out of lust — you were both too exhausted to even think about cumming again.

This was different — after all the haze of sex had faded, drowning in post-coital highs but minds still clear. 

“Sure, pretty boy. Next time just me and you.”

Perhaps your cover was blown. He had called you ’baby’ one too many times, paid hardly no attention to Cheyenne until he paid her at the end, made it obvious that he was obsessed with all things you. But that was a problem you had to worry about another day.

You were focused on other things right now.

Because maybe inviting another woman into your session with Yeonjun was a test you had given him without his knowledge.

song: climax - usher

available on ao3

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The first time they crossed paths was on a warm summer night in May. What was initially met to be a small early album release party to celebrate Proof quickly grew to the point that Hybe had to rent out a bar for the night. It was a popular bar not too far from the practice studio, ambient lights and open space perfect for the occasion. The crowd was filled with a few idols, some producers and staff from Hybe, as well as staff from various other companies around the city. He had opted for a simple, all black fit — a black leather jacket, black dress shirt, black slacks and some black loafers that were far more expensive than they should be. 

She had come alone that night.

He broke away from speaking with Jungkook and Taehyung in search of the bar for a refill.

He first saw the back of her when he wandered towards the bar; she was standing, leaning over the bar and conversing with the bartender who was clearly a friend of hers. She balanced her weight on the heel of a single black red bottom with effortless ease, the other leg up kicked up as she was deep in conversation. Her burgundy mini dress rode up just enough that if she leaned forward a few inches more, there would nothing left to the imagination. When his presence came close enough he gently cut the tension of their conversation, eyes on the bartender first.  

“Excuse me ladies, I don’t mean to interrupt. Another somaek please.”

The bartender, clearly flustered, gave him a pleasant greeting before tossing his old glass aside and rushing to the other side of the bar to prepare his drink.

It was far from his intention to fluster her but he couldn’t help that his name or presence had that effect on people. His name and the group’s name alike had accomplished so much and  achieved such great heights. They had earned every bit of their star power. 

As he waited for his drink, he could feel the way her eyes glared into the side of his face, almost as if she was trying to see through him. With a curious smirk he turned his head, finally, meeting her eyes.

It was the first time he got a good look at her in the dimly lit bar; her big eyes were filled with intrigue, curiosity and something a little darker; her plump lips were covered in a simple gloss, her eyelids smoky, lashes long, dark and alluring. She gave him a quick once over with her eyes before adverting her gaze with an equally mischievous smirk, satisfied with the warmth she could feel nearly radiating from him.

He wondered if he was blushing?

He was. 

Could she tell with the dim lighting in the club? 

She could.

“I’m Jung Hoseok, nice to meet you. You are?”

He extended his warm hand to her which she shook after a few moments of hesitation. So subtle that you’d only notice if you knew her.

“The last name is Han. I might tell you my first name if you’re lucky enough.” A half-smile rested on her lips as she watched his drink be placed before her by the bartender, who then moved further down the bar to assist another customer.

He carefully reached across her to grab the drink, eyes focused on the way she looked up at him with eyes he could have sworn screamed seduction. Due to their proximity he got a smell of her perfume up close; something gentle and feminine that reminded him of spring. Way too sweet for a place like this.

“Where did you come from?” Hoseok hummed, inquisitive, thoughtful. He took a small sip of his drink, leaning over the counter bedside the woman. He was taller than she was — about 6 inches or so with the heels she wore. He leaned an arm over the counter, leather jacket resting comfortably.

She playfully met his eyes once more before looking away, ignoring the question.

“I know who you are, by the way. It’s impossible not to.” She took a sip from her red wine, staring down at the glass and avoiding his hot gaze.

“A fan?”

“I’d definitely say so.”

With every second that passed he found himself filled with more intrigue, anxious to get to know more about her —find out what all the mystery was about. He was astounded that he had been the first to approach her in a room full of men with a little too much to drink and way too much money to spend. 

So he hung around.

He asked more questions, she answered 75% of the time. They ordered a few more drinks, but even liquid courage wasn’t enough to penetrate the wall of secrecy she had. It made him hungry to know her a little better.

Unbeknownst to him she had grown quite fond of him in a matter of an hour. She caught herself smiling way too hard when he complimented her, saying she had something rare about her energy that he hadn’t ever seen. She complimented him in return, saying she was thankful to talk to a man who was handsome and a good conversationalist for a change.

He learned a little bit about her. All that she offered up at least. She didn’t work, didn’t need to. She frequented the bar on Friday nights, spent most of her time hanging with the bartender (who was indeed her friend) and keeping her company. She was into pop culture, art and literature; wasn’t much of a cook but she was working on it. She had moved to Seoul 8 years ago but felt as if the city moved a little too fast for her.

She learned a little about him too; things that the media would never tell. She learned that he kept an apartment in Seoul and a house in Gwangju. He told her he liked to grow his own fruits and vegetables whenever he had time. He hadn’t started his military service yet, but he would the following April. He talked about his love for his fans and the solo album he was working on. She playfully teased him about his platinum blonde hair he sported during the Proof photoshoots; he laughed and said that while he liked the look, the dark brown he sported now suited him much better.

The crowd started to filter out after a few hours, his members and the purpose of the party long forgotten from Hoseok’s mind. Eventually it was just them inside the bar and the staff who cleaned, drawing the evening to an end. Jungkook peaked through the front doorway a few times as if signaling to Hoseok that they were preparing to leave but not wanting to step inbetween his conversation.

Hoseok covered the tab for both of them, leaving a tip that nearly made her friend teary eyed. Part of her wanted to oblige, but she didn’t. 

He insisted on buying her a cab to take her home but she promised him that she had that covered.

“Will you be back around the same time next Friday?” He was hoping he hid his eagerness just a little in his eyes because he certainly didn’t with his voice. 

Her dark eyes looked up at him as they both made their way towards ghetto exit, arms brushing, the strap of her small Louis Vuitton purse clutched in her hands.

“If you’re lucky.”

It wasn’t the first night that they met that he took her bed. That’d be too easy, too predictable. There were too many mutual acquaintances around, too many wandering eyes.

They were classy enough to wait until the second meeting, exactly a week from the first.

It also wasn’t until the second meeting that he noticed the diamond on her ring finger. He was admittedly curious — he thought about pressing her for more information, seeing if she’d offer up an explanation as to why she was making him feel the things he did while (possibly) belonging to another man. But then she finally told him her first name and that’s all that occupied his mind after that.

Hoseok wasn’t a homewrecker. But he told himself who was he to pry? If she didn’t offer the information, he wouldn’t ask. Better to be blissfully ignorant than guilty. So he didn’t harp on it.

When they returned to the same bar that Friday night, the air between them was charged in a way that made it nearly impossible to breathe; tension too thick to break. He figured it was pheromones or something more sinister, the way his body craved her as soon as their eyes met. She thought maybe he cast a spell on her the way she squirmed in her seat as they talked — her eyes locked on him, arousal obvious, throat dry with a desire water couldn’t quench.

It took all of 30 minutes before he casually mentioned he had a room booked at the Shilla hotel. He would have mentioned it faster but he wanted to test the waters — make sure the chemistry from a week prior was still there and not a figment of his inebriated imagination. 

She asked him why he booked a hotel room when his apartment surely wasn’t too far. He gave her a sultry grin and said he just wanted to let go tonight.

That’s all it took for the tension between the two to find a home.

Hoseok told her there was a car waiting around back for him and she was welcome to join. She didn’t mean to be so excited but she stood just before he finished his words, making her way to the back door with obvious vigor in her steps. 

“Anxious?” He whispered in her ear once his hand rested on the truck door handle. Shivers rained down her spine and he pressed his front against her, the curve of her ass nearly making him groan.

“I know just what to do with anxious.” 

In 30 minutes their clothes were on the floor and her legs were wrapped around his neck. She looked stunning underneath him; loose curls sculpting her face and falling around her body in a way that looked sinful. Her lips parted ever so slightly as his right hand wrapped loosely around her neck, thumb carefully caressing the skin beneath his fingers. His left hand held her leg that pressed against his face, the gentle scent of spring radiating from her skin. His eyes closed in ecstasy as he increased the speed of his thrusts, his diamond chain twinkling in the moonlight that slid through the window.

The sight was breathtaking. 

“Fuck.” The couple moaned in unison, the cool air blending with the scent of sex and expensive laundry detergent. His thrusts were full and complete, his cock impossibly hard and begging for release. It had been one week way too long. One week of desperately stroking himself to the thought of her any free second he got —like a college frat boy with too much time on his hands. 

She wanted to savor the feeling of him inside of her; enjoy the way he perfectly filled her walls as if they were made for him. But it was impossibly hard to focus when she nearly came as soon as he entered her. She couldn’t do that, she had her dignity to maintain.

“Look so perfect when I’ve got you like this. So good for me, so…tight.”

A breathy moan escaped her lips at his growled words, tears welling in her eyes as she was overrun with pleasure. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so good, so cared for, so full. The room was litered in candles and rose petals as if he just knew he’d be taking her to bed this time. The planning, the certainty, his effort — it all heightened her arousal. He pressed warm kisses to her ankle as he continued his thrusts, the intimacy of it all hanging in the thick air that enveloped them.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, baby. I know you want to.” With a strangled moan she gripped the bed sheets with one hand, the other hand wrapping around Hoseok’s arm. She was already so good for him — so obedient to his words, responsive to his touch. So it didn’t surprise him when she came on command. 

He groaned in pleasure as he applied soft pressure to her neck with the tips of his fingers, listening to her cries as her body shook in pleasure. She couldn’t stop the tears that began to flow as Hoseok’s hand let go of her neck, struggling to keep himself up as her walls crashed down around him. His eyes fought to stay open due to ecstasy, wanting to catch every expression that painted her soft features.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum. Gonna make me fuck you again.”

Staring into her blissed out, doe eyes, Hoseok’s hips still as he gripped onto her leg, painting her walls with his cum. Her eyes nearly rolled to back of her head at the sight of him. His skin glistened with sweat, diamond chain hanging from his neck in a way that was picturesque. She wondered if it was possible to cum again just from looking at him? The woman neared overstimulation as he rode out his high, thumb swiping a tear away from her cheek before pressing soft kisses to her plump, swollen lips.

At first it was hotels. Expensive, comfortable, luxurious. They’d have sex, order room service and stay up past dawn most nights; sometimes until the sun began to peak through the curtains. They’d often indulge in one another once more, take a nap if time allowed, and Hoseok would make sure a ride was arranged for her to leave when she pleased if she hadn’t left before him. On the mornings that she hung around a little longer, he’d kiss her goodbye and admire her lying there in their afterglow until he was nearly running late. 

It only took her a couple of weeks to come clean about the story behind the ring on her finger. Hoseok never pushed it, figuring she’d address it during one of their late night/early morning postcoital talk sessions. He hadn’t expected it to come so soon.

She stood in the hotel shower, warm water coating her skin and ring long forgotten on the hotel dresser. She took it off every night they were together — she wanted to make sure he noticed; not to make him feel less than but rather to tell him in a way without telling him; let him know that she’d explain more when she was ready.

Hoseok had scrubbed her back with a warm loofah, the scent of hotel-stapled eucalyptus soap more than familiar to them.

“I’m married.” The words slipped from her lips in a tone that came out flat — almost like a fact rather than a confession. Hoseok’s eyes stared into the back of her head briefly, momentarily shocked by the words he didn’t expect. He hadn’t seen it coming; not this soon and not at this moment. Through his shock he somehow never stopped his scrubs, making his way to her neck next.

“I know that. I’ve always known that.”

Her heart fluttered at the way he sounded so sure. Everything about him was always so steady, so grounding. She had been dreading this day but in her eyes it was long overdue. His response had not been one of anger like she feared, nor one that reeked of judgement.  

“Do you know to who?”

“No, should I?”

“Probably,” she sighed, turning her back to the water and facing Hoseok whose eyebrows were furrowed with interest.

“I’m married to Han Dohyun.”

“The producer at JYP?” She cringed hearing that he knew of him; part of her had been hoping he didn’t, but it was somewhat impossible not to. Dohyun was born and raised in South Korea, standing about 6 feet even with jet black hair he kept curtain cut. He was handsome, studious, athletic, wealthy. Instead of using his body to his advantage, he majored in music in college and fell deeper in love with it. He had moved from Jeju to Seoul and joined JYP around 8 years ago, taking his fiancée at the time with him. He worked with various groups but he mostly with Twice. He was responsible for so many of their most popular songs; it was hard not to know who he was.

“Yes.” 

Hoseok hummed in response as they traded places in the shower. She took another loofah that she lathered with soap, eyes glued to the back of his head as she rubbed his back.

“Are you happy with him?”

He knew it was a stupid question, sure. But he had to ask. For the sake of his own ego.

“No. I haven’t been for many years.”

“Okay. When you’re ready, tell me more.”

It was 2 months into their romantic tryst when they got especially comfortable, trading hotel sheets for the Egyptian cotton ones that covered Hoseok’s bed in Gwangju. They spent early mornings running around the house keepers as they cleaned, eating a quick breakfast after greeting the gardener together. Sharing dreams, aspirations, kisses in the dark. She shared more about her husband; how they moved from Jeju to Seoul so he could chase his dreams of being a producer; how he accomplished his dream but his desire to be seen and admired made him insufferable as a husband. She talked about how he viewed her as an object of beauty and societal accomplishment rather than a wife; a conversation she ran by him many times with no change.

He learned her favorite authors and how interested she was in art from the 1800s. There was a Van Gogh exhibition coming to the city in February for one night that she raved about; he made a mental note to make sure she didn’t miss it.

She learned how to make his very specific breakfast toast to perfection. She learned more about who Hoseok was outside of his sunshine persona and found a man who was deep, loving, caring, considerate; an ace on the stage and in the bed.

It was dumb, stupid even — the way they played house a couple days out of the week as if they were hidden from the world. Maybe part of them were hoping they’d get caught. 

Either way, it was only a matter of time before it happened.

But it did take 4 months.

A blissful 4 months of playing hide and seek with stolen kisses and midnight rendezvous.

Her husband had gotten suspicious around month 3. But he had been busy preparing for Twice’s comeback; spending late nights and early mornings in the studio had become habit for him. Friday and Saturday nights in particular were especially busy for him and the other producers. He’d often stay out until 4-5 a.m. She made it back home in time most nights but on the nights that she didn’t — on the nights where she wanted to stay wrapped up with Hoseok just a little longer, she’d make up a story about spending the night with a friend but planning to come home just before lunch. Most of the time he was too tired to make sense of it all; she’d be there when he woke up from his sleep with lunch prepared and a weary but present smile.

Somehow, the basic things he needed from her as a wife; clothes prepared, dinner ready for the nights he was home, laundry done, house clean — she always fulfilled.

The lack of text messages had been his first sign. Despite the years of tension between them, he’d receive updates from her from time to time about how she missed him or what she was doing at the house. Those had all about ceased by month 3. He suspected she had found something else to occupy her time, like a new television series or a new friend to spend her boredom with.

He would have questioned her or addressed his suspicion had he possessed the energy and had his mind been thinking of his wife more often than he did. However, the only thing in his mind these days were melodies he should have recorded before he came home.

It was the 4 month mark when it all truly fell apart. The start of September had come into full swing with beautiful fall foliage covering Seoul.

It was her favorite season — Dohyun expected her to be busy with autumn events, maybe even be a little happy. But one day she had come home with her smile a little too bright for 5am, duffle bag in her hand and a face that hadn’t expected her husband to be home so early. It was 5 am when stumbled into the house humming a tune he had never heard before — smiling, full of light, youth.

He had just gotten home from work about an hour earlier than he said he would; he wanted to surprise her with some coffee and donuts now that the album he had been tirelessly working on was now complete; thank her for her hard work and long nights of putting up with him not being home; so he told a little white lie about his arrival time. 

However, things hadn’t gone to plan.

When he checked out at the convenience store the young cashier stared at him with a look he couldn’t quite place. 

“Everything okay?”

“Are you Han Dohyun?”

“Yes?”

The cashier handed him the newspaper, eyes slightly concerned, nearly apologetic. Dohyun’s eyes widened as he stared at the front page’s picture and headline. It displayed a picture of his wife walking alongside Jung Hoseok near the Han River at night, her arm wrapped in his.

HAN DOHYUN’S (JYP) WIFE SEEN WITH JUNG HOSEOK OF BTS. TROUBLE IN PARADISE?

And he was livid.

When she entered the home, she didn’t see him at first. She shut the door as if she didn’t expect him to be there, loud and careless. She tossed her shoes off and the duffle bag to the side, turning to walk into the living room and there he was. She gasped in surprised but quickly closed her lips together as she took in the sight of him with only a dim lamp light illuminating the room. The tips of his ears were red and his leg bounced in anger, the newspaper gripped in his hands nearly burning a hole in his flesh. At least that’s what it felt like.

“You’re cheating on me? With Jung Hoseok?”

He yelled his words before tossing the newspaper her way. The shock of him being there, him finding out her forbidden secret — it stunned her so much that didn’t pick up the paper right away, struggling to find her words. 

“W-what are you talking about, Dohyun?” Her throat was drier than it had even been, heart racing faster than she could keep up with. If it wasn’t for the couch next to her to hold her weight, she was certain she would have passed out.

“You’re on the damn front page of the paper!”

Gaining the strength and balance she needed, she leaned down by her feet to pick up the newspaper, seeing a picture that was indeed of her and Hoseok, plastered on the front page. The brightness had been intensified but it was definitely them.

She remembered that night. Hoseok had taken her to the Han River around 2am when he thought it would be safe. They dressed in his hoodies, big and comfortable. They made sure they weren’t followed. How someone snapped their picture without them seeing, she wasn’t too sure. It was sometime around month 2, just before they began to start taking their visits to Gwangju. He had kissed her that night and told her he was falling in love with her.

“Would it shake up your world too much to tell you that I love you? That I’m in love with you?”

“You shook up my world the moment you introduced yourself to me. I love you too, Hobi.”

She was thankful that at least it wasn’t a picture of the way he kissed her afterwards. Needy and heavy handed as if he wanted to f—

“Well? Are you gonna fucking speak?”

Drawing herself from her daydream she carefully placed the newspaper on the couch, creating space between herself and her angry husband. She wasn’t necessarily scared of him — she had seen him angry before and knew he wouldn’t get psyhical. But his words always hurt when he was like this. He knew her buttons, knew how sensitive she could be. That’s what 10 years together taught you.

“Stop yelling at me, Dohyun. You haven’t listened to me for a long time. We don’t have the same desires we did when we were younger. We’re not on the same page but you won’t listen to me when I tell you that.” 

Separation had hung in the air between them for a long time. They had been cursed ever since they stepped foot in Seoul, she felt like. The lights were too bright and instead of walking in it together he let go of her hand.  

By now he was pacing back and forth, face red with anger and frustration. 

“Then why not fucking divorce me, damn it. Do you know what this is going to do for my reputation?”

She was silent as she watched him pace, not knowing what to do with his hands. She wanted to say it was because he would never make it as easy for her as he was putting on. But she didn’t. 

“And just to think about it, I was this close to giving you the baby you’ve been whining about for years.”

At these words she began to hear thumping in her ears, the sound of her own heartbeat increasing.

“A baby? You didn’t tell me you changed your mind about it.”

“Well obviously not now!” 

Tears welled in her eyes as the memories began to flood in. They dated for two years after he had graduated college; after the second year of dating Dohyun proposed and they moved to Seoul together under the guise that they’d be married shortly after. She paused her college career hoping to start up again soon while Dohyun got settled. He had plans to strike gold with a company as a producer and start to bring in income for them both. Two weeks after their arrival she decided to take a pregnancy test just to clarify that that wasn’t the cause of her random bouts of nausea she had been experiencing for the past few weeks.

Turns out it was.

When she showed Dohyun the two little lines with shaky hands he had been so excited. He didn’t care that they weren’t married yet, the wedding was only a few months away. He was excited that the woman he loved was going to be a mother and make him a father. They went for a check up and found out that she was around 9 weeks pregnant and her worries began to turn into joy. 

That was until she fell ill at the 12 week mark. She couldn’t hold down any food, her legs were weak, her appetite diminished. She chalked it up partially to the anxiety about the move and the stress of wedding planning. She woke up one night screaming to Dohyun that she was bleeding and she needed to go to the hospital. They received the news within the hour that they had loss the baby. Little explanation was given since it was so early on; the doctor explained that sometimes it just happened; stress, environmental stressors, hormonal imbalances.

It could happen but it wasn’t suppose to happen to them. 

Dohyun had been supportive and loving as she recovered. She waited 3 years before asking him about the possibility of trying again and he had shut down. Everytime she brought up the topic he was never ready, the timing wasn’t right, as soon as he finished with this project, that project. 

“What does he have that I don’t have?”

She stayed silent, mind reeling as she balanced her thoughts between Hoseok and the child lost. The child she was meant to call her own.

“I just…I really care a lot about him.”

“You care about him,” Dohyun scoffed, finally taking a seat on the large couch. “I’m your husband, I’m your priority over any man you might care about.”

Once again, she stayed silent. She hadn’t met to be so weak. She thought when this day came she’d be a lot stronger, able to stand on her feelings and emotions, let him know how badly he wronged her and that she happily sought comfort in someone else. But just like he always knew how to do, Dohyun swung below the belt.

“Have you been sleeping with him?”

Her eyes darted at him from staring off into a corner of the room, back at him with a speed that answered the question for her.

“You don’t have to tell me, I already know.”

The morning was a mix of Dohyun yelling and running to his parents like he always did. A phone call turned into his parents promptly arriving at their home, lecturing them about the importance of their image and how their marriage didn’t need to end over such little troubles.

They may have had their overbearing moments over the years but they had always tried to be there for them. They scolded Dohyun when she explained why she felt so distant from him — his father explained to him that all the money and accolades in the world couldn’t replace a wife. She brought up to her in-laws how Dohyun refused to try again for a child despite giving her false hope, leaving her feeling distant and rejected. 

He ranted about how she had been caught with Hoseok, how it was all over the media. His father looked disappointed in them both, but his mother focused on yelling at him for giving the woman false hope on a topic that was so sensitive, so sacred.

She wanted to talk more about how broken she felt; how they had somehow lost themselves along the way and that they were no longer a fit for each other. How Dohyun deserved to have a woman who could be the trophy wife he wanted; how she deserved to have a man who loved her in all her shades and hues. 

But instead she stayed silent and let him carry the rest of the conversation. Through her silence his parents had somehow convinced them both to try marriage counseling and put a pause on calling off their marriage for now.

Was it what she deserved? Never. She deserved to be heard. For someone to know and understand that she had been suffering for years and that there was no amount of counseling that could fix the way her soul repelled the sight of him. He had left her dejected too many times, gave her heart too many empty promises.

But she was exhausted. Beyond exhausted. So exhausted that she agreed to try.

When she saw Hoseok again, it was a couple days later. When he was in Seoul, she knew his routine like the back of her hand. He was predictable. He’d visit a coffee shop about 10 minutes away from his apartment around 10 am, go to the studio and stay there until nightfall. She walked into the music studio with ease in search of Hoseok’s personal room, the staff having known her by now. 

When their eyes met she was a shell of herself. Someone he didn’t recognize. He saw her nearly struggle to stand, as if her knees were weak as she looked at him. Her eyes were heavy and restless, hardly wanting to make eye contact with him as he stood from his desk. 

“You haven’t answered any of my calls or texts, baby. I’ve been worried sick about you.” His hand cupped her cheeks, seeing more clearly the old streaks of tears that covered her face.

“I think it’s over, Hoseok. He wants to work on the marriage. I agreed to try.”

His worried expression turned to one of confusion. 

“Dohyun? You’re staying with him?”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she stared at him. He looked so innocent and full of love. His bare face, the beanie on his head, the confusion in his sweet eyes. How could she let go of someone who made her heart beat like he did, just by looking at him. 

“H-he’s my husband, Hoseok. I owe it to him to try.”

“You’ve been trying for years, don’t let him control you anymore. You don’t love him. And he doesn’t love you like I do. We know that.”

She gripped his tshirt as she cried into his chest, heart aching in a way she had never experienced before. If pain could kill, she was certain she was on the brink of death.

“Is this about the military? Trying to leave me beforehand so it hurts you less?”

“No Hoseok, I would never —“

“You’re saying you would never but you already are.”

He stepped away from her, leaving her cold without his warmth, by herself to wipe her own tears. But he didn’t walk too far— only took a few steps back. Just in case she really needed him.

“You don’t think I’m already mourning you? I don’t want this Hoseok but everyone is in my ear about doing right by my husband. My face is all over the news, they’re calling me a home wrecker. They don’t know what goes on behind closed doors. He keeps begging me to give it another chance and I loved him for so many years.”

“Fuck the paper, we both know how you feel about him and how he treats you. Is it about money? If it is, you know you’d  never have to worry about that; I could buy anything you want a hundred times. Say it and you can have it.” He was so selfless, even in his obvious hurt. 

“He came around to wanting to have kids.”

His face softened for a few seconds, knowing the weight of those words. They had gone over it together in detail, the miscarriage. How it felt for her emotionally, the nightmares it left her with, the fears. He knew how the topic tugged on her heart strings. It was one of the first times she had gotten deep with him; a rare memory where she bared her soul. She waited until month 2 to tell him, shortly after their first ‘I love you’s. It was intentional; wanting to protect her heart until she was a million times positive he could hold it.

“No baby, don’t…don’t do that, he doesn’t mean it. Why all of a sudden? He’s manipulating you.” His voice broke at the end and tears began to lightly wet his eyes. It was rare for Hoseok to cry, he wasn’t overly emotional in that way. But the past 4 months had been so amazing; so full of love, light, passion and deep conversations. He thought he finally had it all with no reservations.

Dohyun was manipulating her and it was obvious; holding her darkest moment over his head and guiding her as if she was a puppet. 

The woman Hoseok met in the bar that night was alluring, confident, strong.

The woman that stood before him was weak, broken, feeble. He still found her beautiful in spite of it all.

“I owe him a baby.”

The words filled Hoseok with a rage he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. His hands formed fists that wanted to find the man and make him suffer for ever making her believe such a ridiculous idea. 

“You don’t owe him a damn, thing, baby. Please listen to yourself.”

“I’m sorry, Hoseok. I love you so much, I really do.” Her puffy eyes bore into his. He was closer now. His hands stayed at his side but he stared down at her, expression one of regret. He scanned her face as if it was the last time he’d see her — taking in every detail of her expression. Her bare face, her pink, puffy eyes, her curls tucked away in a loose ponytail.

Even in all of her mess she was indescribably beautiful.

“If you walk out of that door…don’t come back.”

His words were pained and whispered, nearly knocking the breath out of them both. She held a hand to her chest as if it would help slow down  the anxiety and pain that consumed her.

“You don’t mean that, Hoseok.”

With an empty look in his eyes, Hoseok gave her a final once over before softly closing the door in her face. She made it just down the hall to the women’s bathroom before she attempted to grip the wall, sliding down it in a fit of tears. The one man who had loved her through her storm, in the midst of all the chaos that was her — she had lost him.

—

The charade in the Han household lasted for all of two weeks. After the third couples counseling session they conclude that they were just too different now. She insisted he had changed after landing the producing gig at JYP. He stated that she was never supportive of him once he got his dream. They were in a dead lock and neither was willing to give credit to the other side.

So they finally let the sink ship.

Three weeks later, nearly one month since she last saw Hoseok, they finalized their divorce agreement. Dohyun had paid for it to be speedy, not wanting anything to jeopardize the comeback he was preparing for at work. When she got the letter on their doorstep she mumbled something about his priorities always being elsewhere — but she didn’t dare fight him on it. 

Court was eventful to say the least. His lawyer argued that she shouldn’t get anything at all due to her being unfaithful in their marriage. 

Her lawyer countered that had she been treated with respect and not like a trophy, she wouldn’t be in the position to have to seek another man for company. Because that’s all her team painted Hoseok as — convenient company for her lost and lonely heart. She wanted to correct her defense; tell them that Hoseok was more than that and she didn’t appreciate him being reduced to that of a stuffed toy. They told her it would be the best way to win her case — if she expressed how deeply she felt for him, the judge might rule less in her favor; see it as more of a relationship rather than a bond forged by desperation and Dohyun’s inadequacy as a husband. She didn’t want to be homeless so she begrudgingly agreed.

The judge heard both sides and agreed to give her 30% of all their current assets as well as those acquired by the end of the year, plus half the equity in their home. She walked away with about $3 million dollars. 

She couldn’t argue with a deal like that.

Dohyun clearly carried anger as he watched her pack up her things, preparing to leave the place she had called home for 5 years. It was bittersweet for her, leaving comfort for the open arms of the unknown; leaving the walls that hugged her when she cried and no one else was there.

As she packed she so desperately wanted to lash out, mind raging with thoughts of what could have been. She so desperately wanted to say:

 “You made me get rid of Hoseok for this? Just to divorce me weeks later?” 

But that would have been unhinged and she was trying her best not to fall apart.

It was a week later that Hoseok got an unexpected visitor.

Hoseok stared at the ceiling in the dance studio, hand close to his chest and pants escaping his lips. Himself and the members had practiced the choreography for ON what felt like a million times and he was finally content with it.

“Looks great everyone. Take 10.”

The members scrambled to their feet, all grabbing drinks or face towels. Hoseok opted for a face towel, sweat beginning to drip onto his grey tank top.

“Mr. Jung, you have a visitor. His badge says he’s from JYP.”

He knew who it was as soon as the company name was mentioned. He gave a nod to the worker as a signal to let the man inside. A few of the members hung around behind him, far away from eat shot but ready to jump in if they had to.

“I finally get to see you in the flesh.” 

Hoseok did everything to hold in his active distain for the man in front of him. On first glance he didn’t recognize him; he was sure he was no one he remembered ever seeing before. But knowing that he had the woman he loved at any point — knowing that she was once his, knowing the hold he had over her. It sickened him.

“Can I help you?” He tried to hide the disgust on his face. He truly did. But he couldn’t help the way his nose twitched just a little at the sight of him. Dohyun was the true reason for Hoseok’s suffering, his pain, his loss of true love.

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she? At least when she’s acting right.” The smirk on his face gave Hoseok an unsettling feeling. Dohyun walked around the corner of the studio they stood in, looking around as if he was searching for something that he knew wasn’t there. The members who had stayed behind, Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook, moved a little closer, somewhat in ear shot now. Almost as if they could sense Hoseok’s discomfort.

“You know I found her in college? She was a freshman and she was known on campus for being a great photographer. I let her take graduation pictures for me and that was it; I fell in love with her. She was so happy for the longest time. Then one day she just wasn’t.”

“It’s my understanding that you turned your attention to everything else but her.” Hoseok hoped his words conveyed every bit of malice he had for the man before him. 

“That might be but she never tried to blend into my world. I finally made it big and she just shut down. Didn’t want to go to the dinners, didn’t want to show her face at events. She never gave me effort so I stopped giving it to her.”

“Sounds like she didn’t want to be your trophy.”

“Call it what you want,” Dohyun scoffed, walking back towards the door of the practice room, hand on the knob as he prepared his exit, “—but I call it being a wife.”

He opened the door before doing a once over of Hoseok and the men behind him who were now fully invested in the conversation. 

“Do yourself a favor and keep your distance from her if you know what’s good for you. She ruins everything she touches.”

Shortly after Dohyun’s visit, word spread through the company that the Han divorce had finalized. And Hoseok tried everything. He drove past the house she shared with Dohyun to see if maybe she hadn’t left yet; her car wasn’t there. He called what felt like a million times, left her text messages that immediately bounced back, hoping one day they’d go through.

She was just gone.

There was a rumor that she left town — packed her bags in a matter of hours and vanished to some place she didn’t tell anyone the name of, not even her closest friends.

He even visited the bartender, Melanie was her name. She was shocked to see him, but mentioned that she had been trying to get ahold of her too with no progress.

—-

It was 2 months after she left that Hoseok met Seoyeon. November had begun and fall clinged on just a little longer. Seoyeon was a friend of Namjoon’s sister and nothing short of stunning. She stood a couple inches shorter than Hoseok, jet black hair nearly to her waist and beautiful hazel eyes. He had been timid about going out with her at first, but agreed to the date.

It had only been two months since his whirlwind romance attempted to break the news. Thankfully it was only one photo and the news had begun to quietly slip away from most forms of media. The company did some minor damage control, saying that they had nothing to report on the issue at that time. But breaking news from another company made the headlines the following week and their story began to fade from the public eye.

Namjoon thought it would be good for him to date someone; he thought it would be nice for Hoseok to see that he could exist in a world where a woman didn’t use him as a backup option. Though he didn’t agree with Namjoon’s wording, he figured it was time he assessed some different options. After all, he had spent the two weeks sending text messages to a number that just bounced them right back at him. He was in his head, heart aching, mind replaying the last conversation they had.

It was time he reminded himself who he was.

Their first date was at a Japanese restaurant he favorited, thinking he could use the pick me up and enjoy the food. He booked a private room, both for privacy reasons and wanting to make a great first impression. 

Seoyeon was timely and beautiful, dressed in a light blue dress and small heels. He found out that she was an amazing conversationalist. Talks with her flew easily and he appreciated that. She was a newly graduated lawyer with a fairly busy schedule but she never failed to make time for him. 

It was their fourth date when she said it. They had been walking around the carnival arm in arm, laughing about how the game they just attempted was a scam and how their $40 had just gone down the drain. 

“You deserve someone who won’t toy with your heart. 

He stared at her, eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying himself to believe her words. He had only told her briefly about his most recent relationship, stating that things just didn’t work out. But she saw the news like everyone else did and read between his lines.

“You’re probably right.”

For the first time in months he allowed himself to feel. To enjoy another’s woman company without thinking about her. The absence of her from his mind was short lived but progress. 

They ended the night sharing their first kiss; soft and patient, reassuring, not rushed. 

It was a few weeks and a few more dates before they slept together for the first time; just before Christmas. They had a dinner date at a diner down the street from her apartment and she had invited him inside when he walked her home. He was more than happy to oblige.

He took his time as they kissed on the couch, breeze from her open balcony door brushing through the space; soft and gentle, calming, reassuring. Just like everything with Seoyeon was.

She was smart, confident, sexy; so sure of herself. It briefly reminded him of someone he met in a bar at an album party once.

They moved to her bed, silk sheets gentle on their skin and her touch like feathers. He made an active effort to clear his mind as he stared down at Seoyeon, her soft lips granting him the permission he had been seeking.

The next time he saw her had been two nights after he slept with Seoyeon for the first time. Christmas Eve. 

He was convinced they had a magnet that connected them to each other; a red string of fate that somehow drew them back to each other when the other was slipping too far. When the scales of their love had fallen out of balance and one of them was too close to the heart of another. He thought maybe she had some form of telekinesis that told her that he had slept with someone else; maybe the connection they shared was so strong that she felt a disturbance in her soul; an unsettling shiver down her body. And maybe she made up her mind to put an end to it.

When he entered the practice room, the air felt different. Heavy, with the familiar scent of spring florals. Somehow he hadn’t expected to see her standing there in the middle of the practice room staring back at him like she did. 

Neither was in a rush to speak. His heart sped up as he took in the sight of her — eyes still so tired, shoulders dipped as if she carried the weight of the world on them. She wore jeans and an oversized sweater, large coat draped over her shoulders and her headband holding back her straightened hair. She was beautiful but she wasn’t herself.

His heart was filled with the aching desire to hold her — reach out for her, embrace her. But his mind was filled with something he didn’t expect. His mind? His mind was frustrated; borderline angry. And it took him by surprise. He never imagined ever being able to feel anger when it came to her. He had imagined their next meeting for so long; how it’d feel to hold her again, take her back, start over. But he couldn’t fight the frustration in his veins because why now? Why now when things were progressing so smoothly with Seoyeon and he was finally starting to master the art of letting go of Mrs. Han. 

Miss. Han these days.

“Why did you come back?” Hoseok nearly mumbled, his tone taking himself by surprise.

Her eyebrows furrowed in hurt but he quickly looked away, not wanting to take in the sight. He wasn’t the best at taking what he dished out; couldn’t look at the pain in her eyes knowing he had (partially) caused it.

It wasn’t the response she expected.

Neither was it the response he expected to give.

It was too fast, too raw, too honest. 

“Because I thought I could do it. I thought I could be alone.” She didn’t make eye contact with him, fiddling with the zipper on her large coat. 

“Is that all I am to you? Just someone to get you through your boredom.”

“Let me finish, Hoseok,” by now, tears threatened to escape her eyes as she stared at him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her for too long, exchanging glances between her and the floor.

“I thought I needed to be alone for a little while. Once the divorce finalized, I got some alimony from Dohyun; way more than I probably deserved. I got myself an apartment back home in Jeju. I spent the past couple of months just trying to teach myself to breathe again. I went to therapy, sorted out some issues I have with possessiveness and abandonment. Through therapy I’ve started to push aside some of the years and issues I had with Dohyun. But I still can’t even begin to get over you.” 

He wanted to keep his stance strong and face expressionless, he did. But he couldn’t help the way his features softened at her confession. He straightened his posture slightly, eyes still glued on her.

“I know you probably hate me. I’m not perfect and I know I carry around black clouds, but I truly do…did love you. And I’m sorry if that’s selfish of me to say, but I just have to tell you.”

Hoseok stayed silent, her words swirling through his heart and mind like a hurricane. 

Somehow his silence spoke faster than he could or intended to. He wasn’t sure if he would tell her at all had she not caught on. How she managed to perfectly interpret his silence, he’d never know.

“Is there…is there someone else?”

Silence.

“You slept with someone else?”

By now the silence had gotten uncomfortable, tearing at the walls of the studio, begging what they desperately needed to escape be freed: truth.

“I met someone, yes.”

She wanted so badly to call herself out for being a hypocrite but how could she? Sure, she was a married woman who had cheated on her husband but he just had to be even worse - he was a free man who spent his time finding someone else instead of chasing her like his life depended on it. She wanted that, needed that, desired that.  And her heart ached at the fact that she didn’t receive it. Was she being logical? The furthest thing from it.

She wanted to make a sassy remark along of the lines of “I didn’t know I was that replaceable” or “Found a new bitch already?”. Something painful, something to hurt him, insult him and whoever had occupied his time when his mind should have been full of her. Likely a ploy she learned from her ex-husband.

But her heart loved him just a little too much to do that. 

“Do you love her?”

“We’re not talking about this.” Hoseok’s throat was dry, words barely above a whisper as his chest ached and ached and ached. He hadn’t felt this bad since the day she walked away the first time; leaving him questioning his sanity, reevaluating his pride. 

“I caused you enough pain, guess it was time you found someone else, huh?” Eyes filled with tears she stared at him for a few seconds longer before reaching for her bag she placed in the corner of the room. The man who normally had expressions that could be read as easily as children’s books now wore something she couldn’t quite describe. Not hate, not anger, but not happiness, not contentment.

“I didn’t say you had to leave. Can we just tal—“

Before he could finish his words she was out of the door, disappearing into the afternoon rush of civilians on the side walk. He looked for her a couple minutes more, eyes darting in the general direction she walked in hoping to get a glimpse of her so he could catch up and explain himself. But she was gone.

Warm tears fell down her face as she lay in the psychiatrist office in Jeju, the doctor allowing her time to collect her words. She was here for her very, very extremely emergent appointment that absolutely could not wait until the next day, as she told the scheduling receptionist. 

She had been lying there in the chair for at least 10 minutes in silence after explaining in detail what had conspired when she went to meet with Hoseok again. Oh, how it hurt. Having to explain to someone that the man you loved was seeing another woman because you took too long. Because you broke his heart, because you weren’t good enough for him to wait. She felt embarrassment, anger, frustration, despair. For a woman who often held her head high, this year had done a number on her confidence. 

“Why does she get to have what’s mine?” She finally spoke, cutting through the silence. Every emotion she had managed to shelter for months ran through her veins and threatened to spill out. 

“What’s yours? Let’s reevaluate that, Miss. Han.” The psychiatrist scribbled small notes before turning her attention back to the woman on the table. She had been seeing this psychiatrist weekly, sometimes twice weekly, since her departure from Seoul. Her visits here, partnered with weekly visits to a generalized therapy group, had been keeping her somewhat sane. 

In her past sessions she had focused on her ex-husband and working through those wounds. She had briefly hinted at the fact that she got close to someone else towards the end of marriage, but she had never went into detail like she was right now. Right now she was feeling way too much. 

“From what you’re telling me, this man you met at the bar and slept with. He knew you were married, you both started a relationship. Your husband found out and you left them both, yes?”

“Correct.”

“So why do you still feel like you can hold onto him?”

“Because he’s mine…he’s all I have.” She didn’t mean for her voice to break, but it did. Because why did it hurt so bad? Why couldn’t she erase the look on his face when she saw him again from her mind, the silence in the air as she poured out her heart.

“Miss. Han, he’s a human being with feelings too. He likely felt as if you broke his heart and he probably spent a significant amount of time working through that since your departure.“

“You think I don’t know that, I know that.” She hoped it didn’t come out too snappy as she softly wiped her eyes with a tissue. “I didn’t want to leave him either but I just needed some time alone. Some space from it all. I spent nearly 10 years of my life with Dohyun, you don’t just sort through all of that mentally in a few hours.”

“And that’s understandable. But from what you’re telling me, you never offered him that explanation — you just left. So he could be feeling the sense of abandonment you felt too.”

At the psychiatrist’s words, she felt an aching pain in her chest, heartache ever present.

“He should never have to feel like that. He’s too sweet, too perfect.”

“Why don’t we focus on making you the best version of yourself that you can be right now. The best thing you can do for that relationship is figure out exactly who you are now and what you want in life. Then you can reassess if that relationship fits the mold”.

She wasn’t in the mood for self improvement right now. She just wanted to vent, go home, watch bad tv, sleep her pain away. But through her heartache, she pushed through, determined to do the work.

As she did so well, she disappeared again. 

By February Hoseok felt like a puppet — created by her, tamed by her, carved to her view of perfection. He repeated the cycle of driving by what he now knew was her old home, texting and calling the blocked cellphone number. Her socials had long been deactivated when their tryst made the front page of the paper, wanting to save herself the conflict. 

At the start of February, Seoyeon was still around; but Hoseok had become distant and she noticed. He hadn’t told her about his run in with the past; he hadn’t found the right moment. They still had their dinner dates, slept together a few more times and she could tell he enjoyed it. But there was a distance in his eyes she could never meet. A far away stare that was rooted in a place she could never touch.

Nevertheless, she enjoyed his company. When he wasn’t in his head, Hoseok was a gentleman with a big smile and a selfless demeanor. He was thoughtful with the gifts that he had gotten her for Christmas; ornaments of places she had been to, a beautiful tennis bracelet she didn’t want to begin to guess the cost of. But even through his smiles his eyes still somehow felt empty.

It was the 6th of February when he finally ended things. His mind had been reeling with Namjoon’s words. He often turned to him when he needed a little advice.

“It’s almost time for your service to start. Who’s the woman you see yourself dreaming about when you’re in the barracks and you’ve got nothing but dreams to get you through the next 18 months? Who do you see yourself running to when you get out?”

And when he put it like that, the answer was quite obvious.

He addressed Seoyeon the day after their conversation. He was honest with her. He took her to dinner that night and told her she was beautiful, caring, amazing to spend time with. But there was no way he could give her his all when he was still longing healing from a past situation.

She kissed him briefly in understanding, telling him to keep her phone number and call her if the loaded ever got a little lighter. A.K.A, if he ever decided to leave well enough alone. 

Part of him hated to leave her. A small, small minuscule part of him.She was the safe option, the guaranteed future; a woman who always knew what she wanted. 

But he would be a horrible man if he lead her on when his heart ached for another. 

So a little over a week later, February 14th to be exact, he found himself getting dressed to head to a new art exhibition in Seoul. He clad himself in a simple black suit and white dress shirt, all tailored to perfection. He slipped on a matching set of loafers, cuff links and a belt from Hermes. On his dresser, he grabbed the ticket that he’d been obsessively making sure he kept safe since he obtained it.

‘Van Gogh’s Finest For One Night’

He knew she’d be there. She had to be there.

Cameras flashed as he exited the truck, immediately stepping onto the red carpet once the door was opened for him. Women screamed and cameras flashed from outside as he waved, suave, gifted, handsome, talented — a star.

The event was extremely exclusive. Only 50 individuals were allowed per hour, the first three hours dedicated to VIP guests. And he knew her well enough to know that she’d be here — somewhere in the VIP likely during the first rush of visitors because she was just that excited about the event. And no way she would give up the perks that the Han last name still granted her.

Tightening his tie Hoseok made his way through the first two rooms with ease. The crowd was low with most people drinking in the lobby,  having already admired the artwork. He was sure the artwork was nice but his eyes forgoed the art on the walls in searching of something a little more beautiful. It was when he reached the third room that he started to feel that pull.

A magnet, a string, whatever it was at this point. 

The familiar scent of her floral perfume hung in the air, twirling around as if to tease him. He searched the abandoned room only to land his eyes on a woman who stood alone in the corner. She had her phone out, taking pictures of the art piece in front of her before putting it away to stare at the piece with her own eyes.

Even from behind she was unforgettably beautiful. Just like when they first met.

She wore a short black dress that stop a few inches about her knees. Her hair was curled gently again, like he loved. She also wore the black red bottoms he could never forget. A momento from way back when.

Even from across the room she felt the shift of energy in the space. As footsteps traveled behind her she closed her eyes, embracing herself for the rush of emotions she was about to feel. This was suppose to be her night. Her night to be happy, let go, celebrate the progress she had made. But she couldn’t help but think celebrating would look a lot better somewhere underneath him. 

She stared down at the floor when the footsteps stopped. Her eyes fell on Hermes loafers, refusing to look up and make eye contact.

“Hi, beautiful.” His tone had a bit of playfulness to it. She thought maybe he found it funny how nervous she was after all this time. How time and history could pass between them and they could still feel so shy.

“Hi, Hoseok.”

The air was charged with a familiar feeling in the empty room. From her side, Hoseok stared in a way that brought a rush of warmth to her skin. She avoided his gaze by looking up at the painting before them, acting as if there was anything on her mind but the man next to her.

She wondered if she was blushing?

She was. 

Could he tell with the dim lighting in the gallery? 

He could.

“You knew I’d be here.” Not a question, a statement.

“I did. You wouldn’t stop talking about it.” 

Her fingers thumped impatiently on her purse as she stared at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears in her eyes from forming. When had she become so weak? So easily emotional these days, so drawn to tears by any little thing — any little feeling. Any person. Or maybe it was just him.

His steady and sure words broke her thoughts.

“You look beautiful. You always do.” 

The gentle sound of his feet walking in front of her caused her heartbeat to increase, thumping so loudly in her ears that she swore that anyone the next town over could hear. She quickly wiped away a tear before deciding to give in, stop being a child and face her fears head on.

So she did.

When her eyes met his, she released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding onto. Long and hard, full of sorrow, pain, regret. She stared into his brown eyes — the ones that once looked at her like she was the only star in the sky. For a second, she swore they still did. 

Through the intense moment she pushed back her more electric thoughts — like the way he looked in that perfectly tailored suit, shaping his toned body perfectly. 

And he prayed she didn’t look below his belt. 

That’s attraction and long distance for you.

“What are you doing here, Hoseok? You made it clear the last time we talked that you were done with me.”

“I never said that.” He quickly retorted, furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips looking as if he wanted to curse her. He never would.

“You didn’t have to say the words to mean it.” A few tears slipped through the corners of her eyes; she quickly worked to wipe them with the tips of her fingers. By now a few people had started to fill into the room but as if they could sense the air between the pair, they left them alone in their corner, undisturbed. 

“I’m here because I keep searching for you. Literally and figuratively. On every corner, in every crowd, in every song. I tried to love someone else and I realized I’d rather be chasing you. I think I’ll chase after you for the rest of my life if I have to.” 

Those doe eyes. She blinked back tears and held on tightly to the chain of her purse, feeling her heart begin to beat out of her chest. He was so open, so honest. His vulnerability had always been his strong suit but when did he become so poetic?

Her Hoseok.

As if sensing that she needed grounding, he extended his hand to cover the two feet of distance that stood between them. The shame in her eyes turned into softness as she reached for his hand far faster than she expected to. No hesitancy like she did when they first met. He had become familiar to her now.

“Let’s go to the balcony?”

The balcony had been off limits for the event. All the security was needed on the inside and outside of the venue to manage the guests. But he wouldn’t be Jung Hoseok if he wasn’t able to pull a few strings. The balcony had been one of the most beautiful in the city; the building was only three stories but its placement on a hill gave a beautiful view of Seoul that was even more breathing taking at night — nights like this one.

The pair was met with a small breeze after ascending two flights of stairs, Hoseok promptly covering the woman’s shoulders with his suit jacket before helping her up the rest of the steps. He guided her to a single picnic table amongst 10, continuing to hold her hand as she seated herself. Once she was comfortable he followed suit, sitting next to her. He was close enough for their knees to touch just a little. He didn’t want to push it. 

For a few moments the pair listened to the sound of city life, eyes gazing over the night rush of cars and lit up office buildings. She was the first to reconnect their hands; she slowly brought hers to his, noting the way he immediately intertwined their fingers. As if they were how they always had been. As if nothing had changed.

“Are you mad at me?” Her words were barely above a whisper as she turned to look at him, his face soft as he took in the beauty of her features under the moonlight. She was beyond beautiful.

“I’m frustrated that you never let me fight for you. I could have been there for you. I could have loved you through every storm.” 

Those tears again. She sniffled softly at his words, feeling Hoseok gently run his thumb over her hand, soft and slow. Everything about him was comforting, even now. She was happy to see that despite the hell she put him through, he hadn’t lost his softness.

He explained to her how he had been searching for her throughout the city to no avail, both when she left originally and after their last visit in the practice studio. She felt like a knife twisted in her chest at the thought of him looking high and low for her only to come up short. But it did warm her heart to know that she was wrong about one of the things that pained her the most. The truth was that he did try to come and find her. And even with all his connections, no one could find her in her nearly off-the-grid apartment in Jeju. She had kept an extremely low profile.

“After the divorce from Dohyun I was so angry at myself for so long. Him and his family got into my head. They convinced me to keep fighting for something I knew was over. But instead of thinking for myself I just let them think for me. How could I be stupid enough to lose you over a few weeks of his foolishness?” Tears streamed down her face a little harder now, the woman using the sleeves of Hoseok’s coat to wipe her tears.

He wanted so badly to close the distance between them and kiss her tears away. He had done so once before; back when she was explaining the miscarriage to him and she shed a few tears she couldn’t hold in. It was the first time he saw her cry and he hated it. It had become far too common place now. Not wanting to do too much too soon, he used his free hand to place a few fingers under her chin.

“Look at me.”

With her eyes still teary she turned to him, his face scanning hers before giving her a small smile. He used his thumb to gently wipe tears from her cheeks, other hand still firmly holding hers.

“You’re not stupid. You were a woman going through an unbelievably rough time. I still could have been there for you, even if only as a friend. Until you were ready for more again.” 

He cupped her cheek as she closed her eyes, regret painted all over her beautiful features. How could she have ever ran away from a man so gentle, so sweet?

“I’m so sorry, Hobi. I’m so, so sorry. I know I hurt you.” Hearing her pained words made his chest tighten, him taking a deep breath he hoped she didn’t see. He was stuck in between wanting her to feel free to express herself as much as she desired, and telling her that she was already forgiven. That she had been forgiven the day she showed up at his studio after he foolishly told her never to come back. He didn’t mean it but he knew it sounded like he did. She didn’t listen and he was forever grateful.

“You’re everything that’s good in this world, Hoseok. You’re a light. And I’m sorry if I ever dimmed that.”

His eyes glistened lightly as he tightened his hand in hers, searching her face for the right words to say in that very moment. 

“You’ve already been forgiven. You’re still so perfect. So you.”

His finger stroked her cheeks once more, eyes drifting to her lips for just a second too long. She caught him but pretended not, tucking away the joke for later.

“Things have changed. I’m not as strong as I use to be. But I still hold you in a place no one else has ever reached. That’s still the same.”

At her words he pushed aside caution for a brief moment and moved himself closer to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, feeling her immediately lean her head into him as they rejoined their hands. As soon as her head met his shoulder, tension she had been holding on to for months dissipated with a single deep breath. Hoseok could feel it; the way the burden left from her shoulders once he told her she had been forgiven. He hated to think how long she carried that around with her.

“You can relax, baby. I’m never letting you go again.”

They left the venue as discretely as they had back when it all began. She was the first to leave through the back door and he waited nearly 4 minutes before following suit. They had agreed to make the drive from Seoul to Gwangju, both craving the warmth and familiarity of his home. A place he hadn’t brought any woman but her.

On the drive there the woman lay across the middle seat of the black Escalade, head resting in Hoseok’s lap as he stroked her hair lightly. The driver, who had smiled fondly but briefly upon seeing his extra guest, drove them to Gwangju with soft music playing in the car. There was a privacy screen between the front seats and those in the back.

Hoseok recalled many nights like this. They’d come to Seoul for a date night and she’d be too tired to stay up for the drive back. Whenever he drove them, he’d kiss her head and hold her hand as often as he could for the drive. Whenever they were driven she’d do as she did now — lay across his lap and nap until their arrival. He was happy to see that some things hadn’t changed.

About halfway through the drive he felt her relaxed body begin to tense up, eyes that were once sleepy with exhaustion now staring ahead into nothing with a glimmer of frustration.

“You’re thinking about something. Talk to me.”

“The other girl. Did you sleep with her?”

He was partly taken by surprise, partly prepared. He knew the conversation would come up. It had been dangling in the air the second he saw her in the gallery.

“I did. Only a few times. Does that change how you feel about me?”

“No. I’m just…..”

“Jealous?”

“Yes.” It was raw, honest. A refreshing feeling after so many months of painful silence and uncertain emotions. With gentle hands he moved some of her hair behind her ear, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her warm temple. He wanted to kiss her lips but again — taking things slow.

“You don’t need to be. She was okay but she’s not you. You’ll never have to worry about her.”

Therapy sessions hadn’t fully healed her; the pit in her stomach at the thought of Hoseok with anyone else told her that. Her mind briefly drifted to thoughts she had months ago when Hoseok had inadvertently admitted that he was seeing someone else. What she looked like, what she did for a living, what drew him to the woman in her absence. The moment he decided his heart would always belong to the beautiful Miss. Han.

But she planned to asked those questions a little later, when she was in a healthier, more healed headspace.

When they got to his home, he followed behind her as she became reacquainted with his house. She reveled in some of the new art pieces he had and admired old ones she had loved. She touched everything with caution, almost as if she he had to now seek permission in a home that once felt like her own.

He wanted to tell her that there was no need to be shy; that she could move in tonight if she really wanted to. After all, her presence made his house a home. But he knew this time around he had to be patient — patient with not only her heart but his too. And they both knew it. 

They showered separately and they hated to do it. She missed the warmth of his body pressed against her back; the gentle kisses he’d place on her skin as the warm water poured down. He missed the softness of her skin and the curves he traced all over. But this time around, things would be different. Good different.

Well, partly. 

When they settled into bed he wore pajama pants and no shirt. She wore the matching shirt with no pants. Bold of them both, but comfortable and familiar. Not everything had to be that different.

His heartbeat pounded in her ear like a metronome, steady, consistent. The silence that swayed in the bedroom was no longer the deafening kind they had gotten use to. It was comfortable. The pair lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day in their minds.

“Do you think you could still love me without all the drama? No sneaking around, no hiding when the sun is out.” Her thoughts ran wild as she tried her best to calm down, reveling in the fact that she was back here — back in his bed, back in his arms. Two places she’d never thought she’d be able to return to.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” Hoseok ran the tips of his finger through her hair from muscle memory. He hadn’t realized he started to until he spoke; but he didn’t stop. 

“I’ve got a lot of growing to do and a lot of therapy to finish. I loved another man for 10 years and those scars won’t heal easy. The other girl might be easier for you. A little younger I’m presuming? Less baggage, more of a clean slate.”

She traced her fingers on the warm skin of his collarbone, trying her best not to let tears form again. She had cried far too much these past months. So much so that she hardly recognized herself but maybe that was a good thing. Her soul was just a little softer now. 

“I’m not looking for easy. I’m just looking for a love that stays. She doesn’t make my heart race when she looks at me. I don’t hear songs in my head when I think of her; that’s all you.” Her fingertips lightly graced the outline of his jaw, touching it as if she wanted to memorize every detail. Hoseok shut his eyes as he savored her soft touch. Goosebumps covered his arms as he released a little tension from his shoulders; something he also hadn’t realized he’d been holding in for months.

“Why did you choose me?” She whispered, voice strangled as if the sentence had slipped out before she was ready for it to. With her ear still pressed again his chest she listened for anything that might give him away before he could answer; a skipped heart beat, an increased speed. But his rhythm remained strong, steady, solid.

“The choice was always you. It’s the risks of choosing you that I was scared of. What happens if you wake up wanting to go back to him. What happens if we do this and one year from now you decide it’s too hard or it’s too messy and we’ve got too much history to make it work.”

His truthfulness once again rattled her to the core. Hoseok moved a gentle and momentarily hesitant arm around her waist, wanting to give her something more comforting and stable. Something to tell her she was safe to be vulnerable with him. Partly because he needed the reassurance himself.

She couldn’t understand how he was so trusting. So willing to let her back in after she sucked him into a world he knew nothing about and spit him back out for the sake of her own sanity. He was so selfless.

“I could say the same thing for you. What happens if you look at me and all you see for the rest of our lives is the pain? Or you worry that I’ll cheat on you because I cheated on him. All of that would be valid but how can we grow like that? It’s like trying to grow something fresh when weeds are everywhere. That’s what I’ve been thinking about since I last saw you. My mind knows it’s smarter to let you go but my heart….my heart only wants Jung Hoseok.”

By now the tears she had tried to hold back had begun to push themselves forward. Hoseok rested the plump of his cheek on her forehead, pulling her closer as her delicate tears fell on his chest.

“I can’t say I won’t worry about the possibility, but I haven’t so far. The furthest thing from my mind is you cheating on me. As far as our foundation goes, weeds can be pulled. You might remember that they were once there but once your harvest comes in, you slowly start to forget. I think we’ll be the same. Five years down the line we won’t worry about the messy details in the beginning. We’ll be focused on the new story we’re writing. Together.”

As he finished, the woman moved herself further in his arms, teary eyes meeting Hoseok’s that gave her the warmest gaze she had ever seen from him. She was in awe of his honesty, the way he could speak from his soul. Without a word she took his warm hand in hers, then gently pressed her forehead against his as they both closed their eyes together.

Minutes of silence passed as they held each other in a warm embrace.

“You’re willing to have a love story with a girl who isn’t perfect?” She opened her eyes to look at him, finding the kindest brown orbs staring back at her.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect,beautiful. I’m just asking you to be mine.” His freehand traced over the top of her nose with this thumb and then her cheek. He had forgotten what it felt like to feel her; skin as soft as silk, every blemish memorized in its own corner of his mind.

She was so gentle; as fragile as a butterfly’s wings. But she was his.

“There’s nothing I want more, Hoseok.”

Foreheads still pressed together they closed their eyes once more, the woman leaning into the touch of his palm as if it was the only thing supporting her. The only thing that made her realize she was in fact not dreaming. 

“Then let’s fix this.” 

——————————————————————————

available on ao3

a/n: thank you all so much for the love on this story! there will be six parts total. :) as always, any form of feedback is appreciated!

_____

The dim glow of the old lightbulbs in the warehouse served as the only source of light for the men, dusk beginning to bask the city of Busan. The day had been fairly uneventful. Jimin came by the office to speak with Jungkook briefly about how staffing had been flowing and the influx of new customers they were having.

They briefly chatted about how he had begun to see someone but he wouldn’t spill any details. Though he was not one to get personal outside of his home, Jungkook welcomed the brief talk about anything other than drugs for a change. It made him feel a little more human to have someone outside of his wife that he could chat with or joke with a little. A friend. Especially one who knew him only as a the fairly quiet kid from college who was great at nearly every sport.

Not as a drug dealer with an unforgiving reputation.

Currently Jungkook sat in his small warehouse by the water’s edge, eyes scanning the remainder of the package before him: 6 kilograms of cocaine that he paid a hefty price for. The Korea coast guard was beginning to conduct more random searches on the water at unorganized times during the day. His payment included fees to pay a few of them to look the other way once his shipments came in.

Business had been flourishing, so he found himself making the drive from his office to the warehouse more often. For anonymity, he never allowed a supplier or delivery person to ever step foot off of their boat. One of his personal bodyguards, either Seojoon or Eunwoo, would bring the product into the warehouse for him to inspect. He’d inspect it and if it was up to par, he’d pay the delivery person with a suitcase of money he’d hand to either man.

Just before he took over the business (but after he agreed to), his uncle forced him to take chemistry class for no other reason than learning how to test if the product he received was pure. He participated in a 6-month crash course that helped him learned the advanced basics of chemistry.

He was the only student in the class. The course was instructed by a man who taught in the basement of his own home with a little too much enthusiasm and a focus solely on testing drugs after the third month. But it was effective.

Dressed in a medical hazmat suit with gloves on his hands, goggles over his eyes and a face mask, Jungkook cut a small slit into the plastic block before him. He had just received one of his largest shipments in the past few months about half an hour prior and he took his time to test everything — amphetamines, cannabis, cigarettes only available in South America. And the recent crowd favorite: cocaine.

After cutting into the bag, he took a small spoon, scooping some of the product into a dish and grabbing a small bottle of dye. Eunwoo stood next to him, eyes darting back and forth between the chemistry experiment and his coworker, Seojoon, who stood outside and monitored the delivery man on the boat.

Watching the product turn the proper color listed on his colorimetric kit, Jungkook nodded and looked toward Eunwoo.

“The product looks good. Pay him.”

Eunwoo nodded, using his walkie talkie to signal to Seojoon that he’d meet him halfway to hand him the suitcase full of cash in his hand. It was a routine the three men had mastered, using it most nights. It allowed them to watch the delivery person, keep Jungkook anonymous and make sure neither was too far from the sight of the guards. Jungkook had taught them both how to test product as well so on rare occasions when he couldn’t be at a drop, they took over.

When Eunwoo returned with paperwork Jungkook was shedding his protective outwear, walking towards the sink to wash his hands.

“Who sent this shipment?”

Jungkook was known for keeping meticulously records. His warehouse sported a custom safe that was nearly impenetrable — in a way. It had taken nearly a year to build, all a product of his own imagination. The 7 foot safe had a compartment in the bottom where anything could be placed inside for him to later sort. But once you placed something inside, you couldn’t retrieve it unless the safe was opened with the proper combination. What made it so impenetrable was that the safe was created to self destruct if someone put in the wrong combination after 10 attempts. At the last wrong attempt it would emit a fire so strong that it would take the safe and the entire warehouse down with it.

The only people in the world that had the combination were himself and his wife.

“I have a code I need you to remember. If anything happens to me and you need…leverage.”

Looking away from the plants she tended to, the woman looked up at Jungkook, his hands full of all the supplies she would need for the maintenance of the garden. They had just purchased the large home in the quiet neighborhood. There were only 6 other houses around them, all spread out and equally as impressive as the next. The home had cost just over 3 million dollars, but every inch was worth it. The property sat on 3 acres, sported a large swimming pool and more land than they knew what to do with. It was a 6 bedroom, 4 bathroom home with a stunning view of the East Sea. It was perfect.

She wanted space for her garden and he guaranteed that she had that.

“Okay. I’ll remember, but don’t ever make me have to use it.”

Her hand reached out towards him and he instinctively handed her the small shovel, watching as she dug a hole for her flower seeds.

“I don’t plan on it, my love.”

He told her that the code was for a safe inside of a warehouse and what would happen if it was entered incorrectly too many times. They would rehearse the code every month or so, sometimes with his prompting, sometimes with her playfully showing him that she remembered. And not once did she ever forget.

He often thought she was perfect in that way. So perfectly made for him. Smart, loyal, affectionate, never asking too many questions — able to see through his tough exterior.

“They sent a random delivery man but the supplier’s name was….a Kim Seokjin from Gwacheon.”

“If this sells well, keep him on the list as a regular. He’s timely, organized. I appreciate that.”

“Yes sir.”

Jungkook dried his hands before taking the paperwork and securing it in the safe. He was headed towards his vehicle, Seojoon and Eunwoo walking closely behind when his cellphone rung. Not his work phone he kept in his right pocket. But his personal phone. The one only a few people had the number to. The one that never rang because everyone who had the number knew only to call if it was an emergency.

Stopping in his tracks Jungkook immediately picked up the phone, seeing ‘Chanwoo’ across the screen. Chanwoo was another early member of his security team. He had formerly worked for his uncle for a few years before he retired. He was a little older than Jungkook; sharp, trustworthy. It was only right that Jungkook gave him the most important assignment of all. One only the two of them and the men behind Jungkook knew about.

He began to speak immediately before Jungkook got the chance.

“Boss. We have a problem.” Chanwoo’s voice was slightly blocked by the sound of muffled screams; a person in the background was clearly attempting to call for help through what Jungkook assumed to be duct tape.

“What’s going on?”

His guards stood firm behind him with furrowed eyebrows, looking at each other and trying their best to interpret the situation through Jungkook’s few words.

“I found a man walking around outside the house taking pictures. His license says his name is Lee Dowon.”

His breath ceased as he took in the words, grip on the phone impossibly tightening.

“Who is he?”

“Looks like he’s a plumber from Itaewon. He’s not saying much else. He had a pistol on him….it was loaded.”

Jungkook’s blood ran dry and his head began to spin, heartbeat increasing.

“A pistol?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll send someone to come get him and bring him to the warehouse. In the meantime, check him for a wire and keep watching the house.”

Hanging up the phone, Jungkook took a deep breath, closing his eyes and doing the best he could to keep himself together. His thoughts ran wild, palms sweaty as he stared down at the phone in his hands.

How did someone get that close? He had been in the business for more than 5 years and he had never had an occasion where his identity was almost compromised. He never had any visitors at his home or at his old apartment before they moved. So how? How did someone manage to get so close to the very thing he worked so hard to protect?

Scrolling through his contacts he quickly found his wife’s, pressing her name and bringing the phone to his ear. She picked up after two rings. Two rings too long for his heart to handle.

“Hey Kook. Everything okay?”

Five years together had taught her he never called while he was at work, at least not at this time of the day. Sometimes he’d call on his way home or if he just needed to hear her voice after a particularly difficult deal. But all of that was rare.

“Hey, beautiful. Everything is fine. Are you okay?”

He didn’t mean to sound as dishonest as he did but there were some things he couldn’t fake. He couldn’t fake the feeling in his chest knowing that someone was just in his yard, likely minutes away from making their way inside his house. His sacred space.

“I’m great! I just finished picking vegetables from the garden with Bam. We’re about to eat some snacks, I’ve been craving pickles with cheese.” She giggled, removing maybe 2% of the tension he felt in his shoulders.

“That’s nice, baby. I’ll be home a little late tonight, just wanted to let you know.”

“That’s fine, honey. We’ll be waiting for you.” She hummed, the sound of her chopping pickles on a cutting board in the background.

“I love you, you know. More than anything.”

He hadn’t meant for his words to convey the slightest bit of finality the way it did, but he couldn’t help it. He was so horrible at pretending when it came to her — he couldn’t hold in the way he felt thinking that when he left for work this morning, that could have been the last time he saw her; spoke to her, felt her warmth.

“I know you do, baby. And I love you the same. Hurry and get home, please?”

His lips formed a small smile, thankful he could do whatever he could to keep her world as happy and carefree as she sounded.

“Will do.”

Hanging up the phone Jungkook stared straight ahead, mind racing.

“Eunwoo, please go to my house and collect the man from Chanwoo. He’s in the back of the Escalade. When you get him, bring him here.”

Without a word Eunwoo gave Jungkook a curt nod before walking towards the replica Escalade and taking off.

Jungkook’s little family was everything to him; they embodied everything that was good in the world — his only peace in the life of chaos and death that surrounded him; that he inherited. He’d do anything to make sure his family was never touched.

That’s why he had Chanwoo guard his wife.

It was something he only trusted his most loyal guard to do; looking after the most precious thing in the world to him when he couldn’t be there.

He hadn’t told her. The black Escalade was often parked randomly on the street, just close enough to look as if belonged to their 50 year old neighbor across the street who had more cars than he knew what to do with. But it was always parked far enough from the neighbors yard that he figured it belonged to Jungkook and his wife, who were parking it across the street because their garage was too full. It was the perfect scenario and the neighbor never questioned them about it. It didn’t seem as if he was home half the time, anyways.

If his wife ever left anywhere, Chanwoo would trail her car, making sure to never stray too far from her. Jungkook didn’t think of himself as possessive — Chanwoo would never report to him the places she visited or who she might meet up with. It was his job to simply make sure she was safe and out of harms way. He had been assigned to her shortly after they began dating; after Jungkook took a risk and effortlessly failed on his promise to himself to never get emotionally involved with someone if he accepted his uncle’s invitation into the business. It took him all of 6 months to forgo that.

But he figured the least he could do was keep her safe to the best of his ability.

So he removed Chanwoo from his personal detail and asked him to take care of his wife. Chanwoo had been uncertain at first about being taken away as Jungkook’s main bodyguard; he had known him the longest out of all the available guards; promised Jungkook’s uncle that he’d take care of him. But that uncertainty turned into honor when Jungkook explained that there was no him if she wasn’t safe. That his wife was the most precious thing in the world to him and there was no one else he trusted to protect her remotely close to how he could but Chanwoo.

Jungkook wasn’t sure how long he stood there in the middle of the dirt path, staring off into the body of water ahead of him. No one had ever gotten this close. Never.

“You good, boss?”

Seojoon’s words drew Jungkook out his trance, him turning his head to face the man. He looked at his phone to see that 10 minutes had passed since his last phone call.

“I will be in a couple hours. Take a break, I’ll be sitting in the warehouse until they get here.”

An hour and a half passed before headlights illuminated the dirt path that lead to the building, shining through the windows of the warehouse. Jungkook had spent his time in the warehouse pondering on his next move, thinking through the past.

The only thing that broke his trance momentarily was his wife sending him a picture of herself and Bam cuddled on the couch, Bam resting his head on her stomach as they watched tv. She sent a message about missing him and telling him to hurry home. He smiled fondly saying he’d be there before she knew it.

Then back to pondering.

He stayed seated as the doors on the truck slammed, obvious sounds of someone struggling being heard.

He watched as Seojoon brought the man through the front door and to the middle of the warehouse, pulling him towards a seat Jungkook had set up. Through the duct tape covering his mouth and the zip ties that bound his wrists and ankles he squirmed, making poor attempts to get away that went nowhere.

The men lifted him into the sit and had him face Jungkook, his eyes wide as if he knew something. As if he knew maybe a little too much.

Jungkook stared at him silently, taking in the man’s appearance. He was around 5’9, maybe early 40s if he had to guess. He was no one he had ever seen before; he would have had a bit of a forgettable face had it not been permanently etched into Jungkook’s brain now.

“He had a phone on him, boss. Chanwoo disassembled it and it’s being taken to the tech guy, Min Yoongi. He says it’ll take about a day to dissect everything.”

Jungkook gave a small nod of response at Eunwoo’s words, never taking his eyes off of the cowardly man before him. He had removed his jacket prior to the man’s arrival, sleeves rolled up to his elbows; it was a rare sight these days.

“Give me his gun.”

Immediately Eunwoo handed the man’s gun he had been carrying to Jungkook, who stood from the table in a way that made the man jump in his seat. Tears began to well in his eyes, mixing with the dried blood on his face; likely from putting up a fight when Chanwoo attempted to capture him.

“Who are you?” Jungkook firmly spoke, expression cold in a way that sent chills down the man’s spine. He peeled the tape from Dowon’s mouth with quick speed, watching the way he jumped and tried to his move his body further away.

“P-please don’t hurt me, I’m just a plummer. Lee Dowon.”

“A plummer from Itaewon? What is a plummer from Itaewon doing snooping around my house all the way in Busan? Looking at real estate? Last time I checked, none of that shit is for sale.”

Immediately the man began to cry, attempting to pull at the zip ties that were around his wrists once more.

“Please, please I was just doing a job.”

“What job?” Jungkook was far too calm on the outside as he stood before him, face cold and commanding an answer.

“This random man came to my job. He paid me $5,000 dollars to visit some houses in Seoul and Busan; see who lived there, take some pictures. He said they were looking for someone, that’s it. That’s all I know, I swear!”

Jungkook began to pace ever so slightly, tapping the tip of the gun against his thigh.

“Who did he tell you he was looking for?”

“He didn’t say, they just told me to take photos. Please, I’ve got a wife and a daughter.” The man sobbed, continuing to attempt to shake himself free from his zip ties to no avail.

At his words, Jungkook stopped pacing, a smirk on his face that drew the whole room to near silence.

“You’ve got a wife and a daughter? You didn’t think about that before coming onto my fucking property, did you?” Jungkook cocked the gun in one stroke, the sound echoing through the walls of the warehouse. “And I don’t know too many plumbers who carry around pistols.”

He was a version of himself he hadn’t had to be in a few months. Cold, ruthless, filled with anger from a place not too deep down inside of himself. It was always lurking in the shadows, waiting for him to succumb to his dark side.

Because what would have happened? What would have happened if he didn’t have security sitting outside of his house? Or if Chanwoo had been dozing off and this Dowon character somehow made his way inside? Where his wife lay her head, probably watching television or distracted by something else. She said on the phone that she had just gotten in from tending to the garden; what would have happened had she caught him off guard and he had the gun in his hand?

His body was filled with a rage he had never experienced before. In all the deals that went sideways, all the buyers and sellers who attempted to short him? He had never had someone come this close to sabotaging what was his; peeking at the spoils of the empire he built and threatening to take away his biggest victory of all — his wife.

“I’ll send your family $20,000. You won’t be seeing them again.”

“Sir, please. Please, I didn’t—“

A single gun shot rang through the warehouse, echoing off the walls.

A bullet straight through head, right in-between the eyes. Perfect precision.

The body hit the ground with a thud a second later, blood beginning to pool on the ground around it after a matter of seconds. Jungkook pulled his finger from the trigger, handing the gun to Seojoon who stood next to him. His expression was partly shocked, but he quickly hid that emotion once Jungkook looked at him.

“Clean the gun then get rid of the mess. You’re both free to go home after that. Take the next couple of days off.”

Jungkook was halfway home before his adrenaline rush had begun to partly dissipate. He was so focused on getting back to his place that he forgot to send his usual text message to his wife before his arrival. He didn’t want to do anything out of the ordinary that might let her know he hadn’t had the best day. Whenever he was home, he felt she deserved the very best of him, to the best of his ability.

jungkook:

almost home. you good, baby?” 23:44

babygirl 💗:

i’m great. i made tteokbokki for dinner.☺️ 23:46

jungkook:

not too hungry tonight. eat without me. 23:47

As Jungkook began to pull into his garage, he watched the tail lights from the Escalade across the street light turn on. The vehicle slowly drove away, headlights off until it got further down the street and out of sight. Perfect, like clockwork.

She could feel the heaviness in the air as soon as he walked in the door. He wasn’t wearing his usual outfit; he wore his dress pants and a plain white t-shirt that he sometimes wore under his suit jacket and dress shirt, or kept in the backseat of his car just in case. His old clothes were tossed over the bag he placed down on the couch.

Her worried eyebrows were obvious as she stared up at him, but they began to dissipate once he reached out in the small space between them, gripping the woman’s shoulders and pulling her closer to him.

There was something in his hug that said he just needed her right now; and she was happy to oblige him. She nuzzled her face into his collarbone, arms wrapping around his neck as she inhaled the scent of his cologne that still lingered on his skin after a warm day.

“Welcome home, love.”

He pulled back slightly to press a kiss on her lips that left her speechless. It was passionate but not rushed, gentle as if he had been dreaming about it all day. She melted into his arms, shivering at the way his large hands caressed her back.

When he broke the kiss, it was to place warm ones on her cheek and forehead, a fond smile painting her lips.

“I missed you so much today.”

She looked into his eyes at his words, removing a few strands of hair from his face and studying his expression. He looked a little bit exhausted and a little bit lovestruck, as if everything he had been working so hard for had paid off and he had just reached the finish line. A place where he didn’t have to be everything for everyone all the time.

“I missed you too baby. Go to bathroom in the bedroom, I’ve got a bath ready for you.” She reached for his clothes, Jungkook refusing to let her go until her placed one more kiss on her neck.

“A bath? You’re always taking care of me, huh?”

“When you’ll let me.”

She walked towards the laundry room, checking to make sure nothing was in the pockets of his clothes before tossing the items in. Jungkook removed his shoes, eyes heavy as he made his way towards his wife.

“Will you join me?” He began to slip off his shirt, watching as his wife’s eyes lingered over his torso with a hunger he was all too familiar with. But she held it in.

“Sure honey. Give me a few minutes.” She took the remaining clothing items from him and tossed them in the washer.

In the bathroom Jungkook had begun to slowly sink into the tub, thankful for the warm water and soft candle light that surrounded him. The smell of lavender foam helped him calm his mind as he leaned his head back on a rolled up towel, closing his eyes.

In a matter of minute his wife was buried into the bubbles with him, naked body laying against his in the large bathtub they never got to use often. She rested her head on his shoulder, both their eyes closed as he traced his fingers over her figure in the warm water.

A slight panic ran through her body as his large hands began to caress her sides and her hips. She said a silent prayer in hopes that he didn’t feel how different her stomach felt — how she had started to put on just a little more weight near her love handles and her belly button.

Luckily if he did notice, he didn’t say anything.

Their bath continue in silence, embracing one another and enjoying the feeling of each other’s company. When they finished they dried each other playfully, Jungkook wearing a smile she hadn’t seen since he walked in.

“Thank you for this baby. I needed this.”

After their bath she guided him to the kitchen, completely ignoring his previous message saying he would forgo dinner. She watched him eat a full bowl of tteokbokki in a way that made her heart smile. When they finished dinner, they crawled onto the couch with Bam, watching some movie she didn’t remember. Nearly 15 minutes in she had fallen asleep, partly due to the warm feeling of her husband’s body and the comfort she found in his arms. The last thing she remembered was hearing him softly chuckle in her direction, placing a kiss to her temple as her eyes closed.

Jungkook finished the movie before carrying her to bed, Bam close behind and choosing to sleep next to her side of the bed. He found it hard to sleep that night, so he opted for watching her sleep instead, feeling her snuggle more deeply into his arms as the night went on.

It wasn’t killing someone that was plaguing his mind, keeping him up at such a late hour. It was the fact that someone had gotten so close to this. To his perfect home life where his wife made him dinner, washed his clothes, ran baths for him when she thought he needed it. Where she woke him up with hot breakfast and his dick in her mouth whenever she could. Where she always took care of him in the ways he needed it but couldn’t say.

His perfect home where he didn’t have to use 110% of his brain and he didn’t have to be the bad guy. Where he could just exist as Jeon Jungkook.

He finally drifted off to sleep when the weight of his thoughts became too heavy and his eyelids finally gave in.

The air had been cold when she awakened.

The woman wiped sleep from her eyes before reaching her hand out in search of Jungkook’s usual body heat. Instead of touching his sleeping face or stomach, she was met with the warmth of his exposed thigh. Opening a single tired eye in confusion, she turned her body enough to look up at Jungkook.

His back was against the headboard and his eyes briefly met hers before looking away, sporting a look she couldn’t quite read which was hard. In all their years together she had learned to know nearly every expression Jeon Jungkook could make.

But this one was different.

Feeling sleep begin to slip away from her, she opened both her eyes, eyebrows furrowed at she looked up at him once more, sitting herself up slightly.

“Jungkook? What’s wrong, baby?”

She followed his eyes and landed on the small black and white picture that he held in his fingertips.

The sonogram. Her sonogram.

Her body stilled as she stared at the image, mind racing with a million thoughts a minute.

How did he find it?

Where did he get it from?

Was he angry?

“I went to your office this morning to put some flowers on your desk. You left this out.” His throat was dry with a tone she hadn’t heard from him before. His words were strangled as if he hadn’t spoke in ages and was trying to find his voice again.

“I-I…I don’t know what to say.”

“How long have you kept this from me?”

She wasn’t strong enough to meet his gaze for longer than a few seconds. When she looked at him, she saw a pain on his face that she couldn’t begin to digest.

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook.” Her words were whispered as tears began to fill the corners of her eyes, staring at the small photo he hadn’t put down.

“How long?”

“I only found out a few weeks ago. I’m 2 months along.” By now she was sitting up with her back against the headboard, shoulder nearly touching his. She would have moved closer had she not been so afraid. Her finger tips trembled with anxiety so much so that she planted them on the mattress in hopes of keeping herself grounded.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I thought about it last night but it…it just wasn’t the right time.”

Jungkook turned his body towards the side of the bed, planting his feet on the ground as he continued to stare at the photo. There wasn’t much to see being that she was so early along; but he could make out a small white dot in the translucent space, nearly the shape of a bean.

“How could you keep this from me, baby? We don’t keep secrets; not ones like this.” He didn’t cry. She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen him cry at all, maybe on their wedding night 3 years ago? But she could tell from the hoarseness of his words that he nearly did.

The woman felt her heart shatter, shaky hand touching his back as if to comfort him but also ground herself. She was thankful he didn’t pull away from her touch.

“I was so scared, Jungkook. We…we never talked about it.”

”I didn’t think we had to, baby. I just thought the answer was obvious.”

“And what’s that?”

“That we wouldn’t have kids because of the life that I live.”

Jungkook stood, body clad in just his boxers, embraced by the cool air of their bedroom. He never let go of his death grip on the ultrasound photo, slowly pacing back and forth.

“I only know how to protect you. I’ve been doing it for so long, more than you know.”

She’d have to ask him about that later.

“I understand. Do you want me to get rid of it?” Tears began to flow from her eyes as she hugged a pillow close to her chest, Jungkook quickly turning his head at the sound of her sniffles. He rushed to her side of the bed, getting on his knees and cupping her cheek into the warmth of his hand.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant at all. It’s just…I never thought we’d have a child. I never even considered it. That’s all I’m saying, baby. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook crawled back into the bed, arms wrapping around his wife she sobbed into his shoulder. His eyes were wide at the sound of her; the way her body rattled against his. He could feel the burden that the secret had been holding on her beginning to shed; the freeing feeling of finally setting it free. But in its place was now his heavy, ill-spoken words.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

His eyes began to get teary as he pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her legs around his torso, face never leaving the crook of his neck as her tears continued to fall.

They weren’t sure how long they stayed like that; wrapped in each other’s embrace, comforting each other as the weight of the world rested on their shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook eventually whispered, warm hands caressing her back and pulling her impossibly closer. Her eyes were closed as she embraced the feeling of his touch, emotions running rampant through her body. She could tell in his tone that he meant not only now but how she felt being pregnant.

“I’m fine, Kook. Just a little nauseous sometimes. Emotional.”

He hummed in understanding at her words, hands going under her shirt to continue to softly rub her back.

“I’m sorry…for not telling you sooner. I thought about it. So many times.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She fought the tears that threatened to leave her eyes once more, wanting to be far stronger than she was right now.

“I think I can understand. I’m probably not the best choice when it comes to…fathers you could have picked.”

Through her teary expression, her eyebrows furrowed at his words, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

“You’re the only choice, Jungkook. It’s no competition.”

She knew what he meant — he didn’t think he would be fit to be a father with the world he lived in. Crime and cribs didn’t exactly mix.

Still, she had hardly ever heard him speak from a place of insecurity. He had been honest about faults he had but never insecure.

“I’ve never imagined myself as a father, with the life I live…how can I watch them grow up, be there for you and run the business? That’s why my uncle didn’t have kids. He didn’t adopt until he retired and all those kids are grown.” She listened to him ramble, feeling a pain in her chest as she listened to his doubts, his fears.

Deep down inside she knew he was right. What kind of life would it be to have a father who was always away, risking his life everyday and leaving her at home with a baby? It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t sustainable, it wasn’t smart. But how could she get rid of something made from such perfectly imperfect love?

“Are these doubts or are you saying you don’t want it, Kook?”

“No, they’re just…they’re just doubts baby. Come here.” Jungkook pulled his wife closer, resting his forehead on hers as they both closed their eyes. He hated to see her cry. No matter the reason he always felt like it was his responsibility. Today he had been too reckless with his words, too fast to react. He had experienced an unbelievable rollercoaster of emotions in the past 24 hours.

“I’m thankful to have a little piece of me inside of you. It’s more than I deserve. More than I ever thought I’d be capable of.”

His wife’s heart pinched as his words, causing her to press a palm to his chest, just above his heart. Instinctively his hand met hers, lightly interlocking their fingers.

“You’re going to be a great dad, baby. You deserve this.”

But he knew he didn’t. Why did he deserve to be happy? All the lives he had taken, all the fathers he had taken away from their happy families? Granted they were all either guilty of trying to screw him over or threaten his livelihood, but still. Why did he get to have a wife and baby when he was maybe no better than they were.

For some reason, he had a feeling he couldn’t shake.

He could feel it in the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he was in a silent room for too long. The way he woke at the smallest sounds while his wife snored lightly next to him, peacefully in a dream world. The way he would catch himself checking his rearview mirrors far too often as of late, alternating his routes home more than usual.

He had a date with karma that was long overdue.

And he had a feeling it wouldn’t be pretty.

“I think it’s time I tell you what I do for work.”

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