#thetruthuntoldnet

Jimin was moving smoothly in front of you, every muscle of his body hitting every stress and release of the music. He was hypnotic. You could have spent hours watching him move. 

It was only partially a physical experience, and conversely, it was mostly a mental, emotional experience. You could feel him move. 

You mirrored his steps clumsily once the chorus hit. He was cute, giggling, fooling around with you. You touched each other carelessly in some sort of childlike game. And once the second verse came on, he switched. 

He was dancing for you.

His movements turned lustful, lazy. He was touching himself the way you touch him, taking more time in a tempo rubato. Slow paced, sultry, prolonging movements past their beat, letting them melt into spaces they shouldn’t. The choreography you’d seen plenty of times, with its sharp accents and crisp lines, was turning into a breathy harmony of blurred lines, of sultry curves. 

While he seemed frustrated and torn on stage, playful and embarrassed on his several tiktoks, and dark, somehow greedy on the Studio Choom final cut, here before your eyes, he was lusty and indulging. He seemed to really give in to every movement, as if allowing himself to be touched, to be moved, to be seduced by his own hands. 

When his hand moved across his ribs on the second chorus, it looked as if he was really caressing himself. He was giving, and giving, blooming under his own palms. 

You wished you could touch him that way, you’d missed him so much. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you told him, watching him, and watching. You couldn’t stop tracing every line of him with your eyes. The song was ending, and you wanted more. 

He looked in your eyes as silence finally settled in.

“Come,” he said, reaching to you with his hand and dragging you close to him. He made the song restart. 

He took slow steps as he danced close to you, leading you with a hand around your waist, hooking you close to him. 

“Remember our first dance?” you asked him as he leaned close to your mouth. 

He nodded. “Sometimes I think about it, when I struggle finding myself.” 

Longing was like electricity between your lips and his. “Does it… This song…”

“What about it?” he asked.

“No, later…” you said, avoidant. 

“Okay. Later.” He parted from you just to let you hit the chorus. Staring at each other in the mirror, you noticed his hand, moving from his belt loop to his pelvis, suggestive, an innuendo matched by the lowering of his eyelids, his pupils getting darker. 

You were moving, looking at the mirror, but you weren’t looking at yourself. You were rather making eye contact with him, your bodies getting closer once the second verse started, his solo with the dancer — which had felt so wrong when you looked at it on video — changed entirely once he was dancing with you. His hands were all over you, pushing, pulling, desperate. A hand on your thigh, the other carrying your knee closer to his hip, his waist, your pelvis colliding with his in a way that stole your breath and made your torso snap forward, in his hold. Then, he was pushing you back, making you dip low behind you, lowering you to the ground before his body was climbing over yours in wicked seduction. 

And then he stood, moving on with the choreography, leaving you breathless to pick up after yourself. 

The second chorus had no pretense of sobriety, it was loose and lusty and desperate, your hands moving freely over your body in a way that translated much better in your own vocabulary of desire. 

He could read it effortlessly. 

You ditched the plans for the outro just to keep dancing with each other, going back to that night, when breathing the same air, and feeling each other’s skin and looking at the way your bodies moved together never felt enough. 

Your nose was touching his, his hands were spread over your ribs, your legs were complicatedly tangled together and when the music ended this time, neither of you wanted to start again. 

You were both breathing heavily and both your hands felt criminally free, so you grabbed his face and kissed the hell out of him. 

Neither of you was lying when you met passionately, your mouths devouring each other, wet and hungry, his body, electric and strong against yours pushed you towards the mirror, and you wanted, you wanted him so much. 

Words were failing you as you asked, “Gimmie— Please—”

You didn’t know what you wanted, you didn’t know what to beg for. You were only grateful that he wasn’t mocking you for your desperation; infact, apparently he had this renewed purpose ever since he got you back. Since that night, everything was fair game. 

He ruled over you, and he knew it, and he had no other request but having everything he’d missed so dearly. 

“What did you want to say, earlier?” he asked, panting, his voice angelic, aethereal like he’d been while singing. 

“What?” you asked back, confused, dizzy with excitement and need. 

“Earlier. Don’t act like you don’t remember,” he teased you. 

You bit your lip, your body pinned by his own, and mostly by his gaze. 

“There’s something I wanted to ask you. About this song.”

He nodded. The days without you had been delirious. Like some great lie he’d told himself as an excuse to be afraid to stand by your side, to continue staying by your side. He’d tried to rip the band-aid off before you would do it on him. He was about to enlist, and it felt easier, to let you go instead of keeping the both of you chained to a promise that was going to have more downsides than perks. 

But was it worth it?

He’d just caused the both of you the darkest despair, and then the enlistment had been postponed due to the pandemic. And he’d lost you, over nothing. 

“Go ahead, ask me.”

Your eyes were turned down, to the floor. “Did you write this song about someone you saw while we were off?”

He froze in your arms, then caught your chin. Made you look him in the eye. “No, Princess.”

You nodded. 

He hated himself for making you this insecure. How could he? How could he deserve you, after what he’d put you both through? “It’s about the night we met again.”

You found the courage to hold his gaze. 

“At the club. Our eyes met across the room. I kept celebrating with my friend, but— I didn’t last long.” He kissed your chin. “I went home, by myself.” His hand caressed the length of your thigh, the side of it, down to your knee, and picked it up. He wanted you glued to his body permanently. He thought he’d never spent this much time between your legs before, not sexually, nor romantically, and now he craved it continuously. He wanted to take a day off and just lay the closest he can on top of you. “I went home by myself, and I fantasised about what could have happened. If I had had the nerves and if I hadn’t let go of you. Touching you, being inside you, kissing you. Having you all night long. Being yours still, endlessly.”

You traced the lines of his face. You’d had sex in this room before — his small dance room at home — and it had been hot, but now you just wanted the closeness of his bedroom — your shared bedroom, where you had slept together in the past, and now again, found in each other once more. 

“You sure we’re doing this right?” you asked him, combing his hair back while he kissed his way down your neck. Missing you had helped him appreciate some small details of you more, especially the ones he feared forgetting. Little beauty marks, moles, scars; places where your skin felt softer, places where he could touch you innocently and still cause waves of goosebumps over your entire body. Places where the ruthlessness of your body gave way to luscious forests of pleasures, endless deserts of scorching want, rich oceans of admiration, and devotion, and love. 

He liked you rough and reckless and harsh, and he liked where he could find exceptions to that shark character of yours. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t stop wanting you,” he confessed with a giggle, teasing the waistband of your joggers with his eager fingertips. 

You grabbed him sternly by his own waistband, and started pulling him in, twisting the two of you around as you began to walk backward towards the bedroom. 

“Jimin,” you moaned, almost with a hiccup at the way he stole your breath with tiny nips at your throat. 

“Love,” he moaned back at you, and your knees went weak. “Are you gonna give me the night we could have had?”

You purred and bit at the base of his neck. “One day, I will give you all the nights we missed. But tonight we have just tonight, and I’m gonna make the best of it.”

There was a certain power in love refound. It soared in your veins as you undressed him, and it sang in his heartbeat as he did the same to you. 

It was tender and liquid as his fingers caressed your chest with devotion, his eyes caught as if it was the first time still. 

His hips went wild as your hands reached for him, touching him lovingly, unrushed, precise and skilled. He stopped you with a grip around your wrist, just in time to convince you to grind against him, like that first magical, perfect night, when he’d taken and given, and you’d met him, again and again, flowing inside him just as you allowed him inside you. 

Your bodies seemed to perfectly sing to each other, until you couldn’t stand the distance any longer. 

“Can I? Inside?” he asked, so, so gentle. He touched your face as he asked, cupping your cheek, kissing you deep, deeper, his lips sinfully plush, his teeth a harsh and pleasant contrast. 

“Yes, please,” you replied with a breathy, light tone, your words barely loud enough. 

He let himself kiss you deeper — impossibly so — as he grabbed his sex and placed the tip to your entrance, the movement so smooth as he slipped inside you. 

A guttural gasp caught you, but he smoothed it out with a fond galaxy of kisses spread all over your face and chest. 

“I’m so sorry I let you go,” he confessed, catching you in his arms, holding you as tight as he could. He rolled you over so that he was on top, so he could give you a break from all the effort as you’d been grinding on top of him for a solid ten minutes, and your legs had to be tired. 

He could take over, and he wanted to. He needed to make it up to you. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you out on your bullshit. I’m sorry I didn’t hold you back.” You wanted to keep talking, but he was working you good, and it was hard to find words that made sense. 

“We’re good now,” he hummed. “You’re good now. Am I good to you?”

“You’re just, so good,” you confirmed, adding to it. “You’re fine. You’re perfect. I missed you. This. Us. Sex with you,” it was like you were an avalanche, coming apart with words first, and then your body, gradually getting sloppy, losing control. 

Your hand moved in between your bodies, to the apex of your slit, teasing the sensitive skin there.

He looked at your hand, at your bodies joining. “I missed it too. I missed your body. God, I missed this so much,” he groaned. “I’m gonna—”

“Go,” you reassured him. 

He went wild and there, you followed, your voice hoarse as you cried out his name, your lips parched from the panting, the gasping over every sensation he caused inside your body. 

Once he collapsed on top of you, you just held him there, letting him catch his breath, soothing him with tender strokes of your hand over his body, over his dirty blond hair.

You let him rest inside you, close to you, and confessed. “You know I love you,” you whispered. 

And after some seconds during which you thought he was already asleep, he replied “I love you, too, you know.” And then he added, “Like crazy.”

It made you chuckle, just barely. You nodded to yourself. “Like crazy.”

The lifeguard who has given him so much grief earlier is now all pliant before him. Your eyes, that were glaring and shooting him daggers, are now wide and teary. Your shouts, that normally send him all flustered, are now replaced by desperate moans and groans. On all fours, you are no longer the lifeguard he is scared of and has a crush on, you are his fantasy that comes true.

Jungkook is still trying to wrap what is happening around his mind, when his coach asks him.

“Care to join us, Jungkook?”

Jungkook swallows hard. He hears the question, but is unable to answer, for his mind is blank, his heart is racing and his dick, well, his dick is responding very well at the sight of his lifeguard Noona being pounded harshly doggy style by his coach.

You still have your red-yellow lifeguard shirt on, but beyond your waist, you are naked. Your ass cheeks are red and swollen, no doubt from the slaps his coach has been giving you as he drills your cunt.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when a particular hard thrust sends you screaming and jerking forward. His cock is standing at full attention now beneath his speedos.

“Now, aren’t you glad I made you stay back, Kook-ah?” A slap lands on your ass cheek, making you cry and mewl. “ She loves cock, this one. Can’t get enough of mine, so she wants my player’s too.”

Another slap.

“Naughty girl.”

Another slap.

You gasp for breath. “Fuck, Jin, I’m so close.”

“Oh no, you don’t.” Jin slams into you hard and keeps himself inside you. “You only get to cum when Jungkookie says so.”

Jungkook looks at his coach.

“You give him so much shit today, princess, it’s the least you can do.” Jin smacks your ass again, then returns Jungkook’s stare. “All yours, Kook.”

Jin removes himself from you and helps you stand up. Jungkook is breathless, he can see how swollen you are between your legs, and his cock twitches imagining how snug and wet your pussy is.

“How do you want me, baby?” You ask sweetly, while leaning on Jin’s large frame.

Jungkook gulps. “Outside, by the pool.”

Jin bursts out laughing. You scoff. “Are you fucking serious?”

Jungkook shrugs. “You ask, I answer.”

“I asked how, not where you fucking brat,” you mutter under your breath, but you move to the computer to ensure all the CCTV cameras are turned off. “Get a towel, I’m not lying down on that grimy floor.”

Jungkook may be a brat, but he is a gentleman. He runs out to get his towel from his bag, then lays it down by the pool. He lies down on the floor, so you don’t have to. Jin gestures to you to sit on the younger man’s face.

“You’re comfortable, Noona?” He asks as you settle on your knees and lower yourself to his mouth.

You nod. Then you gasp when his hands cups your ass cheeks, pulling you down so his tongue can swipe at your wetness.

“Oh, Jungkook.”

Jungkook moans against your cunt at the way you say his name. You reach back to hold on to his hands over your butt.

“You like that, princess?” Jin leans down to kiss you. You whimper against his plush lips as Jungkook’s tongue parts your folds to get deeper.

“Make her scream, Jungkook.” Jin orders.

Jungkook happily obliges. His wet organ pistons into your hole, juicing you up to leak more of your honey down his mouth. The slurping sounds his mouth makes is so loud, and the smell of your sex fills the air, competing with the chlorine from the pool.

You grind and swirl your hips on his face, trying to get some friction on your sensitive button. He notices what you are seeking to achieve, so he happily moves his focus to your clit. His fingers replace his tongue, two digits pushing into your wet cunt.

He looks up at you, your upper body is still hidden underneath your uniform. His hands leave your ass to push your top up, and he groans when he sees you are not even wearing a bra. He hears Jin chuckles above him.

“She’s naughty like that, going braless so her tits can jiggle and distract me throughout practice. Right, princess?” Jin grabs your hair and yanks your head back roughly.

“Yes, daddy.”

Jungkook mewls- fuck, you have a daddy kink, this is even better than his fantasy. He inserts another finger into you, your loud moans urge him to go faster. He feels your thighs start to shake, so he quickens the pace of his tongue and his fingers.

“Oh Kook, I’m gonna cum, please,” you beg, “Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook wants you to flood his mouth, but he also remembers the way you looked when his coached edged you earlier. So he pushes you away from his mouth and onto his chest. You groan in frustration. “What the fuck!”

“I want to see your face when you cum, Noona.” Jungkook demands. He glances at his coach.

“Come on, Princess,” Jin understands immediately. He pulls you off Jungkook. “Gonna have you cum on my cock while Jungkook watches, hmm?”

You meekly comply. Jungkook moves from the towel to make space for Jin. The coach pulls you, and you squat over him, reverse cowgirl style. You guide Jin’s cock into your dripping hole, gasping and moaning as the head breaches in, followed by his length. Jin lets you bottom out at your own pace, and when he is fully in you, you whine and cry over how deep he has gotten in this position.

“Noona, your top, please.”

Jungkook is desperate to see your breasts. You strip quickly, baring your naked tits for the player. Jungkook gets on his knees before you. His large hands enveloping your chest, his rough palms grazing your hard nipples.

“You have such pretty tits, Noona. Fuck, they’re so nice and round.”

“Yeah, you like them, Jungkook? Ah!” You squeal when Jin slaps your ass.

“Start bouncing, princess.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Your knees start working to get you up and down Jin’s cock, your cunt swallowing the full length until you feel it deep in your lower abdomen. Your walls tighten around his girth, despite already being opened up earlier.

Jungkook continues to knead your breasts, eyes never leaving your face. “Noona, fuck, you’re so sexy.” Jungkook leans in to kiss and lick your neck.

“Fuck, Princess, how are you still so tight?” Jin pants from behind you.

Your moans are getting louder, the tell-tale sign of an orgasm fast approaching. Your knees have tired, so Jin takes over, fucking himself up into you, making your body bounce like a rag doll. You stumble forward and Jungkook catches you to hold you up, your breasts pressed against his hard chest.

Jin plants his feet firmly on the floor and continues to fuck you, determined to have you scream both his and Jungkook’s names. He has denied your orgasms a few times tonight, even before Jungkook joined in, and he is eager to have you finally cum and cum hard on him. He can see past your shoulders, at Jungkook, at how the player is mouthing at your neck and enjoying your succulent tits.

“Daddy,” you tilt your head back to glance at Jin, “I’m so close, I wanna cum, please.”

He digs his fingers deeper into your flesh. “Cum, princess, cum for me.”

He gathers his strength and pumps his cock into you faster and harder, finally burying himself in you when your walls squeeze tight around him accompanied with a cry escaping your mouth.You are cumming then, milking and drenching his shaft at the same time. Jungkook looks wide eyed at you, at how your eyes squeezed shut, at how your brows scrunched up, and at how you scream Jin’s name.

The coach grunts. “Jungkook, shut her up. She’s getting too loud.”

Jungkook quickly pulls his speedo down and positions himself before you so he can slide his cock into your open mouth. Your lips automatically close themselves around him, and Jungkook loses it when your hands grip his thighs for balance. He holds your head so he can fuck your mouth as his coach continues to press and grind himself through your climax.

“That’s it, Princess, suck his cock while you cum on mine.”

You groan around Jungkook as your body shakes and shudders in the aftermath of your orgasm. Jin does not let up his assault on your pussy,  and Jungkook soothes you when he sees a tear roll down your cheek.

You look up at him; your big teary eyes and hollow cheeks become his undoing. Gripping your hair tightly, he holds your head still as he shoots his seed down your throat. He moans and pants your name as you obediently swallows every drop from his cock.

Jungkook removes himself from you, and you gasp loudly for air.

“You okay?” He asks softly. You nod. Jungkook kneels before you so you can rest your body on his again.

“Daddy,” you whine against Jungkook’s neck as the slapping sounds of skin against skin continue. Jin is drilling himself up in you so hard that your body is jerked roughly forward to the player. After a few more thrusts, Jin finally empties himself, filling you up with his seed.

Your body shudders against Jungkook’s, your nails digging into his biceps as Jin comes inside you. The player feels his cock stirring again. The mere thought of his coach’s cum leaking out of your sweet cunt is sending him dizzy. Jin must have seen it on his face, as he pulls out and removes you from Jungkook.

Laying you down on the towel, Jin kisses you gently. “Can you take Jungkook, princess?”

“Yes, Jin, I want to,” you answer weakly, whining when you feel liquid dripping out of you when you spread your legs.

Jin kisses you deeply before he lets his player take over. Jungkook kneels between your legs, eyes fixed on your messy cunt. His cock is hard again, but he knows he will cum the moment he goes inside you, so he delays by pushing Jin’s cum back into your hole.

“Ah, Jungkook, please,” you whine, “wanna feel your cock.”

He ignores your begging, instead he finger fucks you gently while his other hand strokes his cock.

“Jungkook!” Your whining is louder and more desperate. He likes the sound of it. He moves his fingers faster, his coach’s cum and yours all mixed around his fingers.

“Jungkook, please, fuck me with your cock.”

Jin sniggers. Jungkook meets his eyes and smiles wickedly. God, he really likes the way you beg, and he is happy to hold off until you are reduced to a crying mess. But then you lift your legs up, holding them by your thighs, opening and offering yourself to him. Jungkook swears.

“Fuck, Noona,” he whispers, “you’re a sin.”

He slaps your hands away to push your thighs further against your chest, as he enters you in one swift motion. The slick in your cunt allows him to bottom out quickly, sending him and you both moaning.

“Fuck her good, Jungkook. I want to hear her scream your name.” Jin orders his player again, while gently caressing your hair. The contrast of his words and his action makes your pussy clench tightly around the younger man.

Jungkook obeys his coach and immediately goes into action. His hips snapping hard, forcing your cunt open with every stroke. Your hands pathetically try to hold on to his shoulders, as he fucks you almost savagely, encouraged by the sweet cries and moans of his name coming out of your mouth.

It is not long when he feels you starting to tighten. “You’re gonna cum, Noona?” He asks without missing a beat in his pace.

“Yeah, yeah, Kook, oh,” you only manage to answer. Jungkook focuses on your face. Your eyes look glazed and unfocused. He bites his lips to hold himself off until he sees you come.

Jin’s hands sneak between your bodies to tug and pinch your nipples. Your body jerks at the pain. Jungkook’s hips falter. Fuck, he’s so close himself.

“Jungkook, Jungkook,” you keep calling out for him.

“Noona, fuck, cum for me.”

Your body locks up as you finally reach your climax, cunt squeezing his cock so tightly that he cannot hold back anymore. He drops to his elbows and buries his face in your neck as he shoots his seeds inside you, his body jerking and twitching along with you.

The two of you remain in the position- Jungkook on top of you with your legs over his shoulders- as you come down from both your climaxes. The pool, so loud with the lustful sounds of sex minutes ago, is now quiet, except for Jin’s soft whispers of praises to you and Jungkook’s panting. Once he feels your heart beat returning to normal, he removes himself from you and gently puts your legs back on the towel, then sits back to watch you in your afterglow. Your body is laxed and your eyes are closed, and Jungkook falls a little bit more in love- and in lust- with you.

The three of you stay motionless for a while more, and Jin is the first to break the silence. “Come on, Princess, let’s have a shower, hmm?”

You mumble a sleepy yes as the coach lifts you into his arms and carries you into the staff lounge. After ensuring you are fine and well in the female’s change room, he and Jungkook go into the male’s to clean themselves.

Jungkook is embarrassed, as he showers and puts his clothes on next to his coach. Jin has been quiet since he left you in the women’s room, and the younger man is nervous.

“Say what you want to say, Kook-ah.”

Jungkook clears his throat. “Uh, are you and Noona dating?”

Jin nods. “Going on six months. And you will not breathe a single word about this to anyone, including Jimin and Taehyung.”

Jungkook blushes.

“We are keeping it quiet until she graduates,” Jin continues, “just one more month.”

Jungkook nods. He understands; though technically Jin is not your supervisor, he is an employee of the university and you are still a student. You and Jin are not breaking any rules, but if words go out, it can still be looked upon unfavorably.

“Yeah coach, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. It’ll be great once Noona graduates, right? No more ‘fraternizing’.” Jungkook uses his hands to add air quotes to the last word.

“Well, about that,” Jin rubs his chin, “we may need to continue ‘fraternizing’ a bit more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have a very strong feeling tonight is not a one off.”

Jungkook gulps nervously. “Oh?”

“It’s up to you, I know she has a soft spot for you, and this,” Jin gestures to himself and Jungkook, “has been in her mind for a while. I don’t like sharing but I have to admit I enjoyed watching her with you. So, you know where to find us if you ever want to do it again.”

Jungkook hoists his bag on his shoulder, his mind going a hundred miles a minute but he is unable to process what he has just heard. His coach looks at him and smirks.

“Can you like, punch me, Coach?”

“I’m already toeing the line, and I’m definitely not breaking the rule by assaulting my player!”

The two men stop when they hear a knocking on the door.

“Are you two done yet? I still need to close up! And I’m hungry!” You shout from the other side of the change room.

“I don’t understand why she needs to knock when- ah, come on Kook-ah, before she whoops our asses.”

Jungkook smiles and follows his coach out. He smiles even wider when he sees you. You merely raise an eyebrow and nag him to move quickly.

Yeah, Jungkook cannot believe it.

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4 hours, he’s spent sprawled on his couch, laid sleepless on his bed, and now sits brooding in his study.

4 hours, his chest has been filled with the same agony he felt the minute he let you go. 

He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t relax, and barely managed to get food in his system. The house felt too boring, too quiet, too cold. 

Too empty. 

Taehyung has never felt like this before, where it feels like his chest is heavy, he can’t stop fidgeting, bouncing his leg and persistently overthinking. 

Is this anxiety? Taehyung thought. I never get anxious.

It was near laughable how little Taehyung grew fretful over anything, and yet here he was; restless as he remained seated silently in his chair without a single thought that isn’t you.

He just didn’t understand what happened, didn’t know your whereabouts, if everything was okay, if everything’s been solved. All Taehyung had left to pass the troubling time was reading the unanswered text messages he’d sent you.

[8:27 pm] Y/N, did you arrive at your office yet? 

[8:58 pm] do you need me to come get you?

[9:15 pm] i can drive you home, get back to me when you can

[10:33 pm] are you okay? where are you? 

[11:25 pm] i’m getting worried, princess, please answer me

[11:46 pm] come home to me, Y/N

It was midnight soon, and he’d already attempted calling your phone 4 times, yet you remained MIA. Taehyung felt like his heart was beating too fast, physically felt his mind spiraling the more he considered what could’ve happened to you. 

The human mind is a frightening place, Taehyung discovered, because all he could do was jump to dreadful conclusions that had his stomach churning. Did you really drive there safe? Was everything okay when you walked on the streets by yourself? Did you even make it to your office? 

He had no telling clue when this happened, but he now realized he feels genuine fear when considering worrying realities about your wellbeing. 

And for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if something really did happen to you. 

When the fuck did I even get like this?, he questioned himself repeatedly. 

Taehyung would usually assert he doesn’t understand why he’s worrying so much, even better, try to deny his pesky emotions; push them away into the crevices of his subconscious so he didn’t have to brood over their significance. He would say that he rarely worries because he’s the cool and collected one, so his current feelings are simply a momentary, fleeting lapse. 

But to admit that would make Taehyung a lying man, because he was not the same man anymore. 

All he wanted was a text, a simple call so he could hear your soft voice, assure him you’re alright. He even considered simply arriving at your workplace unannounced, but it didn’t sit right with Taehyung thinking he’d be impeding on your work, compromising the trust you and him had established before he let you go. 

But as the clock ticked by, and his phone remained desolate of your contact name, near suffocating stress began mounting onto his shoulders. The kind that was heavier and more agonizing than any work stress, and Taehyung had called his friend Namjoon for any sort of clear mind. 

“Dude, it’s only been 4 hours, you can’t file a missing persons report that quickly.” 

“And why the hell not?” 

“Because she may not be missing, Taehyung. She just hasn’t gotten back to you yet.” Namjoon reasoned. 

Taehyung’s tone grew snippy.  “And how do you know that’s the case? What if something actually happened?”

“Look, from what you told me it’s a stressful situation, and Y/N’s handling it, you should trust her.” 

“Hyung, she wasn’t even in a state to drive, I don’t even know if she made it to her office or not.” 

“I know it’s worrying, but you also have to consider that she’s in a situation where you’re the least of her worries, Taehyung. She’s dealing with work, she’ll be away from her phone.” Namjoon offered sensibly. 

“I understand that, Namjoon, but how am I supposed to just trust the worst hasn’t happened?” Taehyung became unsettled, his mind drifting towards fearful scenarios again. “What if I made a huge mistake.. letting her go alone?” 

“Taehyung-ah, don’t think like that.” Namjoon encouraged supportively. “Look, you know I get worried when my wife’s out late too, but she always comes home. Y/N will be fine, you just need to wait for her.” 

“But I want her to be fine in front of me.” Taehyung stressed. “How do I know she’s safe? How can you tell me everything’s fine when it may not be? I can’t just eat and sleep normally when she may need my help and I’m not there to protect her.”

“Woah, Tae..” His friend was taken aback on the other end. “This sounds nothing like you. Are you really not okay?” 

Taehyung sighed heavily. “Fucking no, Hyung. I don’t think I am.” He felt a growing headache as he massaged his heavy eyes, plopping down onto a sofa in his study. “I don’t understand why I feel like this, I don’t fucking get any of this.” Taehyung breathed frustrated, far more emotional than he usually is. 

“Taehyung-ah, it’s normal. She’s your wife. Fake marriage or not, it’s always scary knowing a woman is out late at night and hasn’t contacted you, but you should just remember Y/N is smart.”

“Namjoon, it’s not just about her being my wife anymore, it’s her.” Taehyung licked his lips uneasily, shaking his head. “I know she’s extremely capable, but she takes on the world all by herself as if she won’t get hurt, and I don’t want her to be alone anymore.” Taehyung practically beseeched, puffing out troubled air as he leaned back on the sofa. “I just want her to come home, I want to know she’s safe.” 

“Taehyung...” His friend paused, considering his friend’s confession. “You’re never like this, man. I’ve never heard this from you.” 

Taehyung remained quiet, an arm thrown over his eyes not exactly knowing what to say, only felt his mind raging with an abysmal storm inside. 

“Taehyung-ah... be honest with me.” Namjoon suddenly perked up, seeming wishy-washy about what he’ll say next. 

“About what?”

Namjoon paused, hesitating on the other end. “This.. doesn’t really seem fake anymore. Are you.. do you perhaps, feel something more for her?”

Taehyung automatically stiffened, utterly frozen. He felt like an error 404 not found code, malfunctioning as he attempted to digest what his older friend just asked him. 

His lips perpetually remained in a state of starting a sentence, struggling for something even close to an answer. He was still blinking when he was interrupted by another incoming call, and caught sight of a name he didn’t even know could bring him such consolation upon reading it. 

Y/N ♡

“Hyung, I have to go.” He abruptly ended the call with his friend, answering yours in mere seconds. “Y/N? Hello?” 

“Dad..” You whined into the phone, complaining loudly as the sound of bar-goers drowned you out, not to mention the slight buzz in your own veins. 

You knew at first dragging yourself to a bar after an already stressful 3 hours at the office was not a good idea, but after working so hard for so little, with no way out or a solution dawning on your team, alcohol seemed like the most optimal way of blowing off steam. 

And especially complaining to your father while near trashed. “Please, you need to do something about Motherrr.” 

“Y/N-ie, I would but you know I’m not in Korea right now.”

“I frickin’ know!” You shouted comically loud, whiskey and coke’s effervescent taste still on your tongue. “But I can’t do this anymore, dad. Why-why is she always like this? Why is it-does it always have to be me?” 

“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know what’s going on with her.” Your dad answered honestly, his last word interrupted by the sound of your co-workers clinking shots of Vodka, you knocking back the burning liquid like a champ. 

“I can’t speak on her behalf, but I can speak for myself and your brother. You have us, Y/N, and I can only ever hope that’s enough.” You downed another shot just for the fuck of it, chasing the hard liquor with some grapefruit juice while your father spoke earnestly. “We love you very much, you know that? And I hope everyday that makes up for what your mother puts you through.”

“I already know dat-that, dad, and I’m grateful.” You could feel the tingling effects of those two shots bubbling inside you now, suddenly eliciting an emotional response you otherwise would’ve kept hidden. “But.. why doesn’t she love me, dad? Why does she hate me so fucking much?” 

You father sighed on the other end, hurt by the vulnerability in your voice. “That’s not true, Y/N. She loves you by wanting the best for you, she just does it in a very different way.” 

“You know that’s not true, dad. It’s.. okay.” Raw emotion caught the back of your throat saying this, tears pricking your eyes as the alcohol made your feelings transparent. “I know she hates me, you can just admit it, it doesn’t hurt me anymore.” 

“Y/N-ie, don’t do that to yourself.” Your father chastised you softly. “You don’t need to act like something doesn’t affect you, okay? If something hurts, it simply hurts, and you’re allowed to not be okay.” Your father said pacifyingly as if he’s reiterated this multiple times, in such a supportive tone it was easy to feel your throat clog up, tears brim your lash line threateningly. 

But you instead swiped a shot from Yeji’s hand, downing it without a care in the world for your reckless alcohol consumption. 

You just wanted everything to go away. 

“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” You fixed yourself, waving off Yeji’s drunken protests about her shot. “Just help me, dad. I know I won’t-don’t ask for your help ofen-often, but please, please help me with this. This project.. I got it fair and square and I know she colluded with Yun & Ryu, please do something.” You hiccupped to your father like a child. 

You could hear your father agreeing on the other end, or so you thought. The alcohol was hitting you hard, leaking into your bloodstream like everyone’s favourite worry-removal poison. “I’m sorry your mother did that. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll be back in Korea in a few days, and I’ll for sure sort something out for you, I promise.” 

“Thank you, Dad.” You expressed your gratitude whole-heartedly, feeling a sudden wave of depression straight Vodka usually spelled for you. “I’m... I’m sorry I bother you so much. I’m sorry I’m an ungrateful daughter who makes everything worse for you.” 

Your father grew soft. “Why is my wonderful, hard-working and resilient daughter apologizing? She has nothing to apologize for.” 

“Because..” You felt your mind spinning with emotion, with overbearing thoughts alcohol only seemed to magnify. “I’m... not a won-wonderful daughter, Dad.” You sniffled.

“Y/N-ie, don’t say that, alright? You and your brother Yoongi are my greatest prides, never think you are worth any less.” Your father reassured, making a small, intoxicated smile grace your face. 

“I love.. you, Dad.” You hiccupped, cheeks beyond flushed. 

“I love you too, Y/N. Your dad’s always here.” You were still smiling like a sad idiot, circling your emptied shot glass mindlessly until your dad suddenly perked up. “And Y/N, I know you’re drinking right now.” 

You blinked, eyes bugging out like a deer caught in headlights. “W-what? I’m.. I wouldn’t drink, dad. You’re hearing things.”

“I may be old, but I’m not stupid. Just remember to slow down, please? And get home safely, I don’t want you out this late at night.” 

“Pft, what? I’m fine, dad.” You hiccupped again. “How-why do I nweed someone to kick-pick me up? I’m not drinking.” Your words bled together in ways a sober person’s wouldn’t, your father unconvinced.

“Y/N-ie, I know you have a low tolerance for alcohol. Where’s your husband right now? Is Taehyung not with you?” 

And that’s when your eyes went wide, mouth falling agape near comically realizing you’re incredibly stupid. 

“Oh my God, Taehyung!” You smacked your forehead, and honestly quite hard. “I never called him back! I’m so sorry dad, I have to go, I’ll call you later.” You quickly pressed the end call button that really seemed to be splitting into two as this point. 

With a spinning mind, you blinked incessantly sifting through your contacts until you located Taehyung’s name, not even comprehending how you so easily forgot to call him when his cologne from his gigantic clothes constantly comforted you all day. 

You clicked his contact multiple times, your co-worker Yeji complaining next to you when you tapped the call button. “Y/N, who are you calling now?” 

“My Taehyung, I mean-husband.” You lightly hiccupped. 

“Pft, imagine having a husband to call, Mary.” Yeji intoxicatingly nudged your project leader, who was scarfing down another shot. 

“I have a husband, guiness-genius.” Mary corrected. “But definitely not one that’s the Kim Taehyung.” 

Your team all reveled at the mention of his name once again, having already hooted, hollered and teased you for the dark hickeys on your neck, mussed hair and near drowning in clear men’s clothes. They were all whistling again through intoxicated laughter and comments, oddly observing Alex among everyone didn’t join their noise. 

Weird.

Anyway, you became all giggly under everyone’s suggestive scrutiny, really thinking about having a husband like Taehyung, and then the realization hit you like you were a giddy high-schooler. 

The Kim Taehyung, one of the most prestigious, wealthiest CEO’s in Seoul, was your husband. 

Right then and there, you heard his deep voice pulling you out your reverie through your phone. “Y/N, hello? Are you listening to me?”

“Taehyung!” You lit up excitedly, Yeji winking as she slid over another shot to you, slamming the glass back down on the counter after a triumphant swig.

“It’s my Taehyung, everyone! My husband Kim-Tae-hyung.” You reiterated his name by each syllable, comically loosening up. “Such a fucking cool name, isn’t it? He’s the most powerful CEO ins-in Seoul..” You slurred addressing everyone. “He was one of Korea’s most elibigle-eligible bachelors too, but not anymore! He’s on Forbes Youngest and most.. handsome? No, wait, successful-?”

“Yes, it’s me, Princess. Where have you been? Are you not at your office?” His voice sounded worried, making you pout at what you considered his overreaction. “Why didn’t you text me back?” 

“I was busy, okay! N-Nary-I mean, Mary, she was.. she had this idea..” Your speech lost cohesion, snickering with your co-workers at the way you said Mary’s name wrong. “Uh.. what-what I was saying again?” 

“Y/N.. are you drunk?” 

“Why does everybody keep saying that? I’m fine!” You slammed your palm against the counter like a child, tone high-pitched. 

“Oh, really, you’re sober? Why do I hear sounds of a bar on your end, then? Didn’t I tell you to be safe?” He had a disappointed lilt to his tone, clear shuffling on his end of the call. 

“I... um, I wasn’t, our company has a bar, g-genius” You tried offering straight-forwardly, but it clearly didn’t work. 

Taehyung sighed heavily on the other end. “Princess, where are you? Do you know the name of the bar?”  

“Yeah, pft, of course I do. Just hold your handsome face up, Casanova.” You drawled into the phone, turning to mindlessly yell at the entire bar much, much louder than you anticipated. “Does ANYBODY know the name of this bar? I am asking for SCIENTIFIC purposes.” 

You swore you heard Taehyung smack his forehead over the phone, your lips falling into a little ‘o’ forgetting to cover your phone’s receiver. Your face instantly heated up listening to the guffaws from the bar, shrinking into the smallest thing possible in your chair. 

“We’re at McGill’s, Y/N.” Alex answered kindly, flashing a comical thumbs up to him for his help. 

“Was that Alex just now? He’s there too?” 

“Yessir, is that a problem, Prince Charming?” You teased, giggling at the end of your remark. 

You could practically feel Taehyung rolling his eyes, moving around on his end. “Fuck this, I’m coming to you. Please stay at the bar, I’ll be there right away.” You then heard the telling sound of keys clinking, soon the door of your home being opened. 

“Noo, I’ll just take an uber homee.” You whined, feeling guilty for disturbing him. “You don’t have to leave the house for me, you should.. be resting.” You hiccupped, hand just barely holding your phone to your ear anymore. 

“I can’t rest until you’re home, Princess. Just wait for me, I’m coming for you.” You heard his Merc roar to life, his voice far more sweet and soothing than it should’ve been. 

And you acquiesced. 

“Okay.” You replied with a visible pout, ending the call as your nimble fingers clambered for another shot. 

Taehyung shoved the doors to the bustling bar open, eyes frantically searching over the hoard of people mingling and drinking. He tried to discern the jacket he gave you in the midst of people, swatting some stray snow off himself. 

He then finally spotted the familiar brown of his coat, swaddling a tiny person propped on a chair, leaned over lazily against the bar’s counter. You were laughing as Taehyung found your pretty face, your familiar eyes glistening under the bar’s lights, cute cheeks entirely flushed.

He took a long, relieved breath, thanking God you were completely safe.

He weaved through inebriated people and ignored them if they recognized him, rushing over to you as his large palm landed on your small shoulder. “Y/N.” 

You whirled around with your big eyes, cheering adorably. “Taehyung! You’re here!” Your sweater paws flailed drunkenly hugging his torso, shoving your face into his coat. 

A warm smile inched onto Taehyung’s lips, endeared by the action. “Yeah, I’m here.” His arms found purchase around you, satisfied he was holding you again. 

He then rubbed your back, lightly instructing you. “C’mon now, let’s go home.” He heard you protest in a low whine, though your jelly-like body made it easy for Taehyung to bend down and get your arm draped over his shoulder. He then glanced at your half a dozen co-workers simply in awe of him, politely nodding. “I’ll be leaving with Y/N now, thank you.”

But as Taehyung tugged you off your seat, your weight drastically pulled him down, your feet completely giving away. “Oh, shit.” Taehyung swore as he caught you, arm secured around your waist as intoxicated giggles spilled from your mouth. Taehyung’s eyes flickered to your co-workers, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “Um.. can someone please tell me how much she drank tonight?” 

“Woah, hold up, you’re actually Kim Taehyung?” 

“Holy shit, we literally work with Kim Taehyung’s wife.” 

“Y-you’re a thousand times more handsome in real life.” Mary confessed drunkenly as she soaked Taehyung in, making him purse his lips as he curtly asked again. 

“Thanks, but not my concern. How much did you all let her drink?” 

Your co-workers equally began scratching their heads, pretty lost on how much you specifically drank. Taehyung sighed disappointingly as he held your intoxicated body next to him, ticked off until he had even more reason to be.

“She just had mixed Whiskey and some shots of Vodka, it’s not that bad.” Alex suddenly offered nonchalantly a few seats down, Taehyung’s eyes flashing to him with dislike, replying coldly. “It’s a lot for her, she doesn’t handle alcohol well.”

“Taee, I just had some shots.. I-I’m as responsible as they.. come.” You hiccupped and lost strength in your legs again, nearly giving way until Taehyung clutched you to closer to him. He took a worried breath as he snatched your purse off the bar counter, eyes falling to some sort of portfolio case hooked onto your chair. 

“Princess, is this yours?” Taehyung asked gently, senselessly nodding to him with your face smooshed in his coat. He nabbed the bag and slung your belongings over his shoulder, fixing you flush against his side until you whined all of a sudden. “Taehyungg, why can’t we stay here?”

He could see the pout on your lips, growing soft. “Because we have to get you home and out of my clothes, baby. Let’s call it a night, yeah?”  He encouraged gently, his arms encircling your shoulders as Taehyung looked at your co-workers. “Nice to meet you all, but I’m taking my pretty wife home.” His eyes flitted over everyone with a light grin until he found Alex’s for a purposeful second, licking his lips with a dead stare. 

“Let’s go, Princess.” He declared and broke eye contact, cradling your head to him as he led you both outside, cold air hitting with a sudden rush and falling snowflakes. You exclaimed in seconds, cowering into Taehyung’s figure. “Taehyung! It’s so cold!” 

He stopped the pair of you just outside the bar, speaking gingerly as he set you in front of him. “I know, that’s why I gave you my coat, remember?” Taehyung watched as the snow began to delicately collect in your hair, taken by the sight. 

It made you appear too pretty for your own good, a smile finding Taehyung as he leaned down slightly to fasten his coat’s lapels around you, buttoning it for you. 

Your mind was woozy, eyes practically half-lidded with alcohol-flushed cheeks watching Taehyung silently work the coat. Even in your inebriated state, the tinge of cold rosiness to his face made him appear breath-taking, snowflakes gracing his long eyelashes as he looked down. 

You stared at him, unable to filter any of your thoughts. 

“How are you so handswome?” You gazed at him with a small slur, lips hiding behind the collar Taehyung fixed around you. His coffee eyes flashed to yours, chuckling.

“My parents. They’re better looking than me, though.” His smile was heart-warming, multiplying your admiration by tenfold. “No..” You denied softly, Taehyung’s sight meeting yours as a sweater paw came up to his cheek, your dainty hand poking out to touch his cold skin. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

Taehyung stopped, eyes completely round as he met your gaze, fairly used to being appreciated for his looks though it oddly felt different coming from you. 

The meaning felt different.

“T-thank you.” He stuttered out, swallowing. Your hand remained on his cheek while Taehyung held onto your collar, admiring your snuggled up self until both your hands suddenly cupped his cheeks, bringing his face closer to yours. 

“You’re like a bear.” 

Taehyung’s lips curved as he snickered, letting you hold him. “A bear?” 

You nodded like a child. “You’re so fluffy.. and your chweeks.” Your voice was muffled as you squished his face, Taehyung growing endeared. 

He was simply enjoying the moment until you swayed suddenly, falling into him abruptly and Taehyung caught you. “Woah, okay there. You won’t be able to walk like this.” He grew concerned, rounding your shoulders as his other arm hooked underneath your knees, lifting you up bridal-style. 

You immediately scrambled, completely shocked. “Wait! I’m-I’m heavy, Taehyung, you don’t, put me down!” You rambled at him alarmed, hooking onto the nape of his neck in a flash. 

Taehyung waved you off. “Shut up, remember I said I could probably throw you? You feel like nothing.” He assured, beginning his steps towards his car he had to unfortunately park down the street. “It’s okay.” 

You acquiesced and grew small in his hold, your head far too heavy as it fell against his chest. Your eyes gradually drew shut as he walked steadily, soaking in his body heat and comforting cologne.  

It felt safe in his arms, like he was the only world you knew in that moment as your temple rested against his beating heart. “Thank you” You murmured, fingers soothing the back of his neck. 

“Hm?” He hummed, drawing closer to hear you better. 

“Thank you.” You repeated. “For coming for me.” 

You’re not sure what expression was on Taehyung’s face, though you did feel his arms coil around you tighter, pulling you close until your forehead met his neck. He continued walking, his steps calm as you both remained in some sort of quiet bliss, the snow falling nearly meditative.

“We’re almost there, Princess.” His dulcet voice spoke gently, the vibration through his chest causing your heart to flutter, and temporarily lull you to sleep. 

Taehyung shut the door behind himself using your feet, setting you down on the small steps of the front foyer and leaning you against the wall. He removed his shoes and knelt down onto a knee before you, undoing the laces of your boots as you came to consciousness.  

You started lightly giggling at him, causing Taehyung to quirk his eyebrows and playfully scrutinize you. “What’s so funny?” 

“You’re-you’re on your knees for me.” You snickered, recalling your conversation with Hana. You hid your face behind your hands, embarrassed as you loosely remembered the scandalous things she said. 

Taehyung couldn’t help but find you the most adorable thing on Earth, thinking maybe it’s not such a bad thing when you’re drunk. 

He simply smiled and slipped off your shoes, shredding off his coat thereafter and tucking it away on a hook. He lifted you up, letting you incline your inebriated figure on him as he removed your (his) coat from you. 

You were mumbling senseless things with half-lidded eyes, Taehyung thinking you very much need to lay down after a glass of water and maybe some food. “Hey, did you eat anything?” 

You didn’t respond, rather wobbled to maintain your balance and Taehyung caught you for the hundredth time, deciding to simply take you to your shared bedroom first. He swept you up in his arms again, nabbing your belongings and ascending the stairs, your body coming to a settled state of near sleep again. 

“Jagiya, don’t sleep just yet. We need to change your clothes first.” Taehyung whispered to the crown of your head, sauntering down the hallway until you roared to life. 

“Noo, I wanna stay in this.” You complained with a whine. 

“You were out like this all day, we’ll get you something comfier before you sleep.” 

“No, I don’t wanna sleep.” You protested, swinging your legs and scrambling in his arms. 

“Hey, stop acting like a child. You already went against my word today and did something dangerous.” Taehyung chastised you, adjusting his hold to maintain your whining figure. 

“No I didn’t, I was safe.” You bit back grumpily, crossing your arms. Taehyung toed your bedroom door open and angled your feet to switch the lights on, walking inside with you. 

“You didn’t even text me back, how was I supposed to know you were safe?” He continued, setting you down on your feet and tossing your bags onto the bed. 

He returned with his eyes finding your little body drowning in his shirt, rubbing your eyes. It was cute until he spotted your marked up neck, dark hickeys blossomed across your skin, and when he considered you’re wearing nothing underneath his own clothes, he found it hot as hell. 

“I just for-forgot.” You slurred out suddenly, holding up a hand to fight him back. 

“Why’d you even go to a bar? You’re a lightweight.” He started reaching to undo your shirt until you sluggishly pushed his hands away.

“You know what, Mr. Kim? Why do you..” You prodded his chest accusingly, speaking whatever came to your mind. “Have to be so sexy?” 

Taehyung blinked. “Huh?” 

“You heard me, it’s not fair.” You nearly staggered until Taehyung’s hands instinctively steadied you, shoving away his hands harshly. “That too. Who asked you to be nice? Why can’t you just be an asshole? It’s not fair, you’re not fair.” You babbled out.

“What-”

“It’s not fair..” Your hands came up to his broad chest. “that you’re so fucking fine.” You shoved him back at your words, Taehyung faltering in accordance as assertions mindlessly spilled from you. 

“It’s not fair that you have a deep, sexy voice.”  You pushed him again, Taehyung’s palms wrapping around your wrists confused. “Y/N, what are you-” 

“That your hands are so fucking big.” Another shove, his hold faltering when you pushed again. “That you’re such an unbothered, intelligent, hot CEO.”

“Princess-

“That you’re so tall. That you’re built so fucking perfectly it makes me want to jump you.” You then forced Taehyung back hard enough he plopped onto the bed, his eyes round as you stood in between his long legs, hands on his broad shoulders. 

“And it’s not fair..” You then grappled your legs onto his strong thighs, straddling him, hands looping around his neck letting the alcohol boost your confidence. 

“It’s not fair.. that you’re right in front of me, but I can’t have you.” And just when Taehyung registered what you said, you crashed your lips onto his in a single breath. 

Your movements were fast and rough, fingers tangling into his hair with your mouth swallowing him like you were starved. You just wanted to taste him, tongue slithering inside to consume him, clothed core grinding against his crotch as you moved. 

Taehyung hesitantly mouthed in returned, arms encasing you securely until he tasted the Vodka on your tongue, disconnecting his lips. “Hey, Princess, you’re drunk, okay? You need to sleep, not kiss me.”  

“No, I want to kiss you.” You demanded before suddenly lunging forward, sending Taehyung backwards onto the bed as you landed on top, kissing him messily again.

Your horny body moved against him in pleasurable tandem, arousal spiking through your core as you groaned into his mouth. Taehyung was utterly taken by the sheer power of your kiss, reveling at the new sensation of you on top of him and he steadily became lost in you.

The alcohol suddenly tasted heavenly on your tongue, making out with you in full force as his arms began to wrap around your torso, but your newly acquired confidence spelled other plans. 

You boldly grabbed Taehyung’s hands and forced them back against the sheets, not allowing him to touch you as your fingers interlaced and restricted him. It was funny how much smaller your hands were in comparison to his, yet you were the one pinning him down, feeling him try to resist you though you only forced him back harder. 

Your mouths were completely sealed together, kissing sloppily and fervently until you propped off his mouth to breathe, instead trailing kisses down his chiseled jaw. Taehyung took a breath of air, having been so completely lost in your act of dominance he was getting too turned on. 

He then remembered the reality of the moment, tasting the remnants of alcohol in his own mouth and he quickly scrambled to direct your attention elsewhere. “Princess, you’re still drunk. Why don’t we do something else?” Taehyung’s eyes flittered around the room for something to distract you, aroused at your lips descending to his neck

He spotted your art portfolio on the bed, eyes lighting up immediately. He nearly went for it until your mouth latched onto his pulse point for the first time, Taehyung groaning at the sweet sensation of your mouth sucking his skin. It was thrilling to feel you pinning him down too, not used to the loss of dominance at all it caused blood to spike to his dick. 

He almost gave into the euphoric feeling until he detangled a hand from yours, reaching for the portfolio desperately. He managed to unclip and tug it open, grabbing at any random sheets trying to forget your pretty lips on his neck.

He sprawled some papers on the sheets, trying to get your attention. “Hey, hey, Y/N, tell me about these. Let’s look at these.. designs...” Taehyung trailed, finding himself suddenly focused on your striking artwork.  

His eyes naturally fell to the multitude of designs and buildings you drew, amazed at not only the variety in your creativity, but how detail-oriented and carefully each design was sketched. He was far more than impressed, knowing you were talented just based on the small snippets he caught glimpses of before, but witnessing your skill in all its glory, he couldn’t help but marvel at you. 

Your talent is way too good to be working humbly at some small company, you deserved to be part of something much bigger. No wonder Yun & Ryu, an infamous law firm initially chose you; your designs were innovative and captivating. 

Taehyung was brought back to reality when you started kissing down his throat and tugging harshly, desparately at his shirt for him to take it off. Taehyung knew better and immediately reprimanded you. 

“Princess, stop it, you’re drunk. We’re not taking off clothes.” He lightly scolded, your whiney self coming off his neck to pout with sad eyes. “But why not?” 

Taehyung physically felt his heart leap, sincerely a weak man when it came to your eyes and lips; a lethal combination that could easily have him offering you the world on a silver platter. “You’re not sober, Y/N. Let’s go to sleep, alright?” 

You still had his one hand held hostage, comfortably laying on top of him as your free hand found his jaw, not wanting to sleep yet. “Can I still kiss you here?” You pressed a single peck to his lips and drew away, cheeks warm as your eyes regarded him innocently. 

Taehyung licked his lips and cracked a smile before you spoke again. “Can I kiss here?” You then kissed the apple of his cheek, insides all giddy.

“You know, this is called an angel kiss.” You told him, lips delicately meeting his eyelid for another peck. Taehyung’s eyes naturally fluttered close, letting your soft lips kiss his one mono-lid, something so easily tangible beating in his heart that he was just on the cusp of understanding it.

Though remained oblivious for his own good.

“I love forehead kisses.” You giggled, bringing yourself to plant a kiss to his forehead until finally catching sight of the adorable mole Taehyung has on the tip of his nose, drawing close to him once more.

“I’ve always.. wanted to kiss your mole, right here.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you placed a delicate against the tip of Taehyung’s nose, creating space between you two to look into his glistening eyes. 

Taehyung couldn’t help but look at you as if you’d hung the moon, entirely endeared as he spoke his thoughts with a soft chuckle. “You’re seriously too cute right now, I’m recording this.” Taehyung shuffled to grasp his phone from his pocket, accessing the camera and quickly pressing record. He positioned it so that it caught a side profile view of you two; your small figure perched on his chest as he laid against the bed comfortably, his other arm encasing you on top.   

“Y/N, say hi to your future self watching this, tell her what you’re doing.” Taehyung teased, talking for the camera knowing this is perfect blackmail for later. 

“Noo, oh my God.” You became shy, hiding your face into Taehyung’s neck as you laughed incessantly. 

“Oh, c’mon. Who’s the one who gave me this hickey right here? And here?” Taehyung started displaying his neck, adorned with fresh hickeys you’d sucked onto him.

“Taehyung, stop! You’re the one who gave me these.” You gestured towards your own marks, knowledgeable of how dark and purple they were “Why don’t you give me all those kisses again as punishment, then?” Taehyung playfully urged you, and your inebriated self decided to play along. 

“Which one, this one?” You kissed his cheek, all shy and childlike. 

“Mmm, give me the one you called an angel kiss.” He suggested, biting back a stupid grin as you pressed a kiss to his double-lid eye. 

He then purposefully batted his long eyelashes to tickle you, laughing together. Taehyung smiled whole heartedly, making one last request. 

“Can I get my favourite one? On my lips?” He puckered them slightly awaiting your kiss, and you easily complied by pecking his pillowy lips, grinning as your arms hooked around his neck, gazing at him. 

“Mm, that’s my princess.” He praised with a glowing smile. You grew sheepish at his words and found the junction of his neck, his warm palm rubbing your back as you did so. 

You laid there, absorbing the vibration his baritone voice sent. You basked in his masculine scent, finding yourself far more comfortable than you’ve ever felt. Your loose snuggle transformed into a hug, Taehyung stopping the video and tossing his phone to the side, returning your embrace as he let you rest on him. 

You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, heard the pounding of his pulse point. You felt so euphorically sound, so tranquil it allowed your mind previously clouded with alcohol to clear up. You began to think back on how you even got yourself into this mess, why you’d become drunk and somehow ended up in Taehyung’s arms, laid on top of him as he stroked your back. 

You remembered your petty mother, her idea of ‘discipline’ meaning destroying your dream, far worse than any punishment a parent could give a child.

It all made your gated emotions rush out far easier than you liked, as if the high you chased with alcohol was now coming down, bringing along daunting thoughts you’d always kept hidden. Your mother’s hatred you’ve felt for years, all the vile words she spat at you returning as harmful weapons, not even remembering the last time you actually felt loved by her. 

The last time she’d call you by your name without an insult, had her genuinely compliment you, provide you with something a mother is meant to.

You felt years worth of sorrow resurfacing, arriving in a wave you didn’t know was okay to let loose. You teetered on swallowing it all down, habitually bury it deep inside you like you always have, maintain that strong farce you’ve always kept. 

That was, until your father’s words suddenly rang in your ears, loud and clear as you felt yourself unraveling, just seconds away from giving in.

If something hurts, it simply hurts. You’re allowed to not be okay.

And that’s when raw, deeply-rooted emotion caught the back of your throat, your eyes naturally watering within seconds as your heart constricted. It was subdued pain, the same agony you’ve felt for numerous years whenever it came to your mother. 

Your chest tightened, ached terribly, throat closing up carrying the weight of years feeling unloved, undeserving of any care, not worthy of being cherished as a human being. It was hard, extremely hard to watch other children be loved by their mothers, rather encourage their dreams instead of cutting their wings.

And just when you felt like your world collapsing, you felt the comforting touch of Taehyung’s hand, aimlessly smoothing your back, his warmth radiant. 

It then suddenly felt easy for tears to automatically well up in your eyes, your arms detangling from around Taehyung’s neck to hide your face in your palms. 

Taehyung was only focused on soothing your back, enjoying the moment until he felt something wet fall onto his collarbone. He then felt you retract your hands, hearing the littlest of sniffles from you and it caught his attention. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Taehyung asked, trying to peer at you though you only hid your face further into his neck. Your breaths became shaky, trying to conceal your whimpering. “Y/N, are you crying?” 

Then came your small sobs, body breathing erratically as cries escaped you, tears spilling onto Taehyung’s shirt freely. “Wait, Princess. Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” Taehyung pleaded, never having thought the sound of you crying could be so devastating. 

“Why does she hate me?” Your voice broke, asking with a quiver. “Why does she hate me so much? What did I do so wrong?” 

Taehyung’s hand came up to cradle the back of your head, holding you tighter as his own emotions grew weak listening to you.  “Why can’t I have a mother that loves me, Taehyung? Just once, just once I want to know the love of a mother.”

Your voice was gut-wrenching, so agonized it broke Taehyung into pieces. He couldn’t stand it, not when you were crying on him and all he could do was hug you, hug you until you felt better, hug you until your tears stopped spilling. 

Taehyung could just never stand this entire situation with your mother in the first place, having always been devastated about it. His own parents have never once intruded on his life or work, never attempted to stifle his success as some sort of punishment. Yet, you had to experience this for some reason, someone who only humbly and innocently desires to achieve something on their own. Someone who’s risked so much to travel down their own path, yet is having the way obstructed by some controlling, bitter parent.

He disdained the universe even more to think you’ve seldom felt a mother’s love, something every child deserves in this world. He just despised that it had to be you, felt tears prick at his eyes thinking how unfair it is you’re forced to be hurt like this. 

“I just deserve it, don’t I? I deserve to be treated horribly. I don’t deserve her love, or anyone else’s.” Your voice grew miserable, reflecting daunting thoughts you’ve had for years. “I’m just a stubborn brat who makes everyone’s lives so much harder. I don’t deserve anything good at all.”

“No, don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” Taehyung was frightened at how easily he was hurt. He hated the way your voice broke, despised that you believed the words you said. He wanted to disprove every syllable of them. “That’s not true at all.”

“But it is true. I even make your life so much harder, I don’t deserve you either. I don’t deserve your kindness, your warmth or your help. I’m such a hassle, I act stubborn and don’t do anything for you. I just deserve to be alone.” Your words trembled, crying despairingly on Taehyung as it did something to his heart he never thought possible. 

“Y/N, don’t say that to me, you don’t make the call on what you do and don’t deserve from me, okay?” Taehyung felt tears brimming his eyes, stroking the tresses of your hair to comfort you. “I make that call. I chose you, remember? I choose to be kind, I choose to care, I choose to help you.” Taehyung didn’t know he could so desperately want to take away someone else’s suffering, how easily he wanted to be the one suffering just so you didn’t have to feel this way. 

“You don’t make my life hard at all. You make my life warm, you know that? You do a lot for me, more than you know. So please, Y/N, please stop crying.” Taehyung begged, wanting to see your doe-eyes instead, the curve of your little lips, maybe hear your laugh. 

“But it hurts, Taehyung. It hurts. After so long it just hurts.” You cried harder, years worth of keeping yourself shut now being released, and Taehyung’s sincere words only added to your emotion, only made you open up more.

“I know, I know it hurts, you’ve been alone for so long, haven’t you?” Taehyung felt his throat closing up, able to relate to your feelings of loneliness because not long ago, you were once the one holding onto him, insisting he wasn’t alone, that he had you here.

Taehyung remembered that solace, now channeling his gratitude for that moment towards consoling you, to never letting you go. “But it hurts me too, Princess, to hear you cry, to hear you say things like this. So please, don’t say them. I’m here when it hurts, I’m here when you’re not okay.” 

And just when you thought his words were already the most genuine, heart melting things you’ve ever been told, Taehyung said the one thing you’ve always wanted to hear your entire life. 

“I’m here, so you’re not alone anymore.”

Your cries automatically transformed into gratified tears, letting your walls come down. You didn’t need them anymore, not when Taehyung is right here, when he’s so close and comforting. 

Your arms coiled around him tightly, hugging him like he was the only safe space you knew, allowing yourself to give in, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, and the sensation felt liberating. 

Taehyung felt his heart beating with something ardent, his own realization dawning on him as he held your sad, crying figure. He never wants to hear such agonizing words from you, never wants to see you in such pain, only desires to give you everything you were never given, because otherwise it leaves his heart unexpectedly broken.

And Taehyung minutely had Namjoon’s question from earlier today pop into his mind, thinking this was possibly his road to an answer. 

Though he decided to not dwell on the thought.

Your eyes fluttered open to find yourself in Taehyung’s clothes again, not the same ones you’d left the house in a hurry in, but a new set.

You felt groggy, head heavy as the alcohol from last night weighed you down. Your arm instinctively reached over to Taehyung’s side of the bed, finding it empty. You nearly got worried until you heard the sound of running water in his bathroom, easing you. 

You spotted painkillers and a glass of water on the bedside table next to you, thinking it was probably Taehyung’s work as you downed the tablets. You decided to start fresh this morning and take a shower in your own bathroom, shredding off your clothes. It was eye-opening to look at yourself in the mirror, the effects of last night having not done you well, especially spotting Taehyung’s hickeys littered across your neck and chest. 

A shot of arousal hit you instantly, remembering the ghost of his lips on your skin, thinking he had a serious kink for marking and it was nothing short of hot.

Quite frankly, Taehyung seemed wildly kinky in general, and it ignited every nerve in your body to explore that side of him someday.   

Then came the memories of yesterday, how the hickeys even ended up there, your escapade in the kitchen that was interrupted by your witch of a mother. You shivered, embarrassed at how easily he had you moaning his name against a counter. 

You snapped yourself out of it quickly, wrapping a bathrobe around yourself and searching for your usual scrunchie to tie your hair for the day. You swore it was on your wrist last night, especially when you’d left the house in such a hurry to the office. 

All you really remembered from that part of the night was the bar, calling your father drunk, Taehyung coming for you, somehow ending on top of him and crying like a child into his neck. 

You felt extremely embarrassed remembering that part specifically, choosing to instead wipe your brain clean. It was better to act like you’d forgotten, certain your drunk self must’ve done something very bold to even end up on top of Taehyung, only recalling the way you restricted his hands while kissing his neck. You smirked at the memory, deciding maybe your scrunchy was in your purse, sauntering over to your room to scour your bag. 

You came up short, believing Taehyung maybe knew of its whereabouts considering last night. You rapped at his bathroom door in accordance, calling his name. “Taehyung!” 

Said man then opened the door, peering at you with a toothbrush in his mouth, bare body and hair soaking wet with only a towel hung around his hips, indicative of just having taken a shower. 

Your eyes greedily soaked him in; his taut, broad frame, catching the beads of water that dripped down his lean muscle, the column of his throat, the messy, tousled arrangement of his soaked locks.  

He looked like a Greek God. 

You were only interrupted by his sudden questioning, eyeing you with a cocked brow. “Do you need something, or are you gonna keep staring at me?” 

You physically shook your head, clearing your throat to save your pride. “I-uh, do you know where my scrunchy is? The one I wear on my wrist?” 

Taehyung smirked to himself before spitting into the sink, running water to rinse his mouth. “Not sure, maybe check one of my drawers.” 

You ventured inside, beginning to access his drawers silently. “Why are you asking me, anyway?” 

“You picked me up last night, I was thinking you had it.” You answered absent-mindedly, only finding Taehyung’s belongings in his drawers, your lips drawing into a natural pout as you searched. 

You heard Taehyung hum in understanding, splashing water on his face. “How are you feeling today?” He stole a glance at you, discerning you didn’t appear as hungover as he predicted. 

And you were doing that thing with your lips again. 

“I’m alright, I know it takes less for me to get drunk so I don’t get bad hangovers.” You replied honestly, scouring his drawers until another thought came to you. “Though not so good considering I know you changed my clothes last night, you weirdo.” 

Taehyung was automatically offended. “Pardon?” 

“I was drunk and you changed my clothes, that can be considered pervy behaviour, Kim.”

“What?” He knitted his brows together. “No it can’t, I’m your husband.”

“That doesn’t make it okay, genius.”  

Taehyung had to stop you. “Okay, hold up, I was just doing you a favour.” 

“You could’ve just put me in my own clothes, loser, why yours?” You retorted, standing with crossed arms.

“Your clothes are small and tight, my clothes are more comfortable.” 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly. “It’s cause I’m small, Taehyung, they fit me. How do I even know you didn’t peak?” You narrowed your eyes at him, watching him close the tap as water dripped from his beautiful bare face. 

Taehyung scoffed, cocking an eyebrow with his palms resting on the counter. “I’ve already seen everything underneath your clothes, Princess.” He eyed you knowingly with a coy grin, purposefully scanning over your body like he remembered every detail of it. 

And that’s when you remembered Taehyung eating you out like a starved man in your kitchen, and you felt your core temporarily spark recalling the feeling of his skilled tongue licking your pussy. 

You shivered, scrambling to counter him with a displeasured look. “I don’t remember anything, Mr. Kim, especially from yesterday.” You crossed your arms tighter and feigned innocence, refusing to look at him.   

“Oh, really? Want a reminder?” You ignored Taehyung while he grabbed his phone along with a face towel from his counter, slinging it around his neck as he fiddled with the device. 

You then watched him hold out the phone in your direction as he dabbed his face unbothered, displaying a recorded video of you laying on top of him. You then watched him ask you questions about hickeys and kissing, yourself giggling like a high schooler and then proceeding to kiss his entire face without a single sliver of shame.  

Your cheeks immediately heated up. 

“T-that’s.. I was- I was drunk! That’s not fair, delete it.” You complained, hands snatching for his phone but he immediately retracted his hand. 

“I’d rather sell my kidney than delete this.” He laughed, smiling mischievously. “You’re cute when you’re drunk, you know that?” Taehyung was smug, smirking as he stopped the video and casted his phone aside, drying his skin. 

You hated the upper-hand he’d required, rolling your tongue on the inside of your cheek as you remembered a very important detail from the video. You grew mischievous, watching him mind his own business as he focused on his skin care routine, yourself tempted by his wet skin and nearly naked body. 

You sauntered over to him, suddenly wrapping your arms around his torso from behind, hugging him as your hands greedily felt up his toned stomach. You watched him perk up, impressed. “Princess trying to start something?” 

“You know what else is cute?” Your voice was sultry, your teasing fingers traversing down his body inch by inch until you reached his towel, meeting his confused eyes through your reflection. 

“When you’re a bottom, Kim.” You then grabbed his length through the thin towel, watching him hiss in pleasure. “Takes so little to get you underneath me, huh? Didn’t you talk a big game about dominance? Where’s that attitude now, sailor?” You began palming at him, having already been impressed by the size of Taehyung’s dick just yesterday, but now with only a measly towel as a barrier, his large size was much more apparent, and much more thrilling. 

“Princess, don’t play-” 

“But I think I want to, Taehyung.” Your voice was dripping with lust, smoothing over his tip and feeling him grow harder, his reactions priceless as groans left his mouth. “What are you gonna do, Mr. Kim, punish me?” You goaded him, though it was your biggest mistake. 

Your cocky scoff was enough to completely tick Taehyung off, sending him into a dark mode where he lost control. Taehyung somehow switched your positions in a single movement and abruptly pushed you up against the bathroom counter. 

You gasped, seeing his tall body tower over you carnally through the mirror. He looked evil holding your stomach with a single arm, the other situated on the counter as he pressed his hips into your ass. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear, eyeing you darkly through the mirror as he spoke. “You really think I didn’t just let you stay on top of me?” 

Arousal spiked through you, thrilled by the dangerous tone in his low voice. The very little clothes between your bodies was lighting you on fire, ready to test his patience. “You sure about that? I remember pinning you down, cuddler boy.” 

Taehyung puffed air through his nose, his dark, wet locks draping his forehead far too sexy. “I was letting you have some fun, you don’t know the game you’re playing, Princess.” His large palm smoothed over your abdomen, speaking in a gruff tone. “Let’s see if you can pin me down when you’re like this.” 

Taehyung suddenly pulled your hips backwards and bent you over the counter, free hand smoothing over your backside. You gasped at the lewd position, the outline of Taehyung’s length nearly stuffed between your cheeks and you shuddered. 

“T-Tae, what are you-” Taehyung then came up to slide your robe down a shoulder, leaning over to kiss your exposed skin, eyes sinful through the mirror. “You wanna play a game, don’t you?” 

You laughed nervously, composing yourself as arousal alighted your core. “I-I was just..” He then removed your hair from your neck and began kissing at your sensitive skin. “Just what? Questioning my dominance again?” 

You relished in the feeling of his lips until Taehyung canvased down your abdomen to your core, sneaking past your robe and pressing into your bare folds. You keened, gasping out a moan as the action caused you to bend over more, your ass flush against Taehyung’s clothed cock. 

He watched your every reaction as the pads of his fingers applied pressure to your clit, collecting your wet slick and spreading you all over your folds. You shuddered, the feeling of his fingers on your pussy lips downright intoxicating. 

“Tae..” you whimpered, craving to feel him inside you. 

“Think you had me pinned down, huh?” Taehyung questioned by your ear. “Think you could stop me from touching you?” He circled your clit harder, his every word dripping with lust. “Think you can be dominant?” 

You clutched the counter hard, gushing on cue. “Fuck, Taehyung..” 

He then slipped your dumb robe off both shoulders, leaving your breasts and perched nipples bare. Taehyung ripped his hand away from your center, speaking deeply by your ear as he suddenly brought both his hands together in front of you, encircling your small frame as he adjusted his wedding band. 

“What’s this?” He asked your reflection in the mirror, meeting his obsidian eyes and answering him. “Your-your wedding band.”

“Good girl.” He praised, watching Taehyung switch the band from his left ring finger to his to right index finger, allowing the life-binding accessory to settle above knuckle. You grew scandalized, core lighting up at his insinuation. “Fuck you, you wouldn’t-” 

Taehyung flipped up your robe to reveal your bare ass, smoothing over a cheek as he brought his newly-adorned index finger to your pulsing core, teasing your entrance with the metal. “Let’s see who’s a bottom when I do this, huh?”

You whined, the prospect of him finger-fucking you with his wedding band utterly sinful just in nature, and it was pathetic how badly you craved it. You glanced at him through the mirror, his devilish eyes meeting yours as he rolled his tongue inside his cheek .

“You’re so.. you would never-”

“You wanted to play a game, didn’t you?” Taehyung’s voice dropped an octave, lining his fingers up just before your entrance, free hand hooking onto your shoulder as he gazed at you with dangerous eyes. 

“In this game, Princess, you’re the sub.” 

Taehyung then shoved both his fingers into your aching pussy, the cool, metallic sensation of his wedding band more euphoric than anything you’ve felt, gasping out in sheer pleasure. Your walls soaked him in greedily, feeling the drag of his fingers as he began pumping you from behind. Satisfied groans spilled from your mouth as you breathed, pushing your ass further back against Taehyung the harsher he fingered you. 

“Taehyung.. fuck.” You grasped the counter to ground yourself, taking the rough thrusts of his long digits. 

Taehyung leaned over you again, his bare chest to your exposed back, baritone voice reverberating in your ear. “Wanna challenge my dominance now? When I have you bent over like this?” 

Taehyung pressed down on your back to arch you, propping your ass higher for him to angle his fingers, fucking you faster with every moan that escaped your mouth. You shuddered with the change, sighing out in utter pleasure. “Taehyung..”

“You think I can’t ruin you? Think I won’t punish you?” He plunged his fingers as deep as he could, their length so blissful paired with his wedding band you groaned out in ecstasy. You felt stuffed by his slender hands, whimpering at the sensation and it entertained Taehyung. “You love my big hands, don’t you?” 

“T-Taehyung..” 

“Hm, Princess?” He teased, biting back a smirk as his fingers began working your pussy again with speed, precision, the constant feeling of his ring fucking into you so sinfully pleasurable. 

“H-harder.” You croaked out, Taehyung cocking an eyebrow needing to hear that again. “What’d you say, Princess?” 

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t, not when Taehyung was pumping into you so roughly, walls feeling his every drag, so good your mind was spinning, insides pathetically raking with an orgasm already. Taehyung suddenly trailed his free hand down to your clit, pressing against your throbbing bud and you whimpered out weakly. 

“Use your words, Princess. What did you say?” Taehyung’s voice was authoritative, sending white hot arousal straight to your core as you practically whined, body repeatedly taking his sharp pumps. 

“I-I said harder, Taehyung, please.” You hated how easily you gave in, but when Taehyung was finger-fucking you with the very ring that symbolized your marriage, your seal as husband and wife while rubbing your wet, swollen clit, it was too fucking easy to submit to him, let him work your body like he knew its every pleasure. 

Taehyung bit his bottom lip to contain himself as blood rushed to his semi-hard cock, the sound of your soft voice moaning his name and begging like music to his ears. The warm feeling of your velvet walls clenching around his fingers aroused him heavily, considering he could just fuck you up against this counter right now.

But he knew you were still too tight, too small, and in dire need of a punishment. 

“I could fuck you from behind just like this, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Taehyung coaxed you, increasing the roughness of his finger-fucking. 

You nodded incessantly, lungs losing air at how much you could feel your insides coiling, something ready to snap. “Yes, Taehyung.. please, please just fuck me.” 

“No, you’re not a good girl, and this is your punishment.”  Taehyung then harshly drove a third finger into you, nearly crying out at the stretch while he simultaneously propelled you forward onto the counter. Your hard nipples met the cool surface as he thrusted, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. 

You groaned out hard, orgasm raking your insides so badly you hung your head low losing strength, until Taehyung’s hand suddenly snaked up your neck and encased your throat, bringing you to look up at your reflection with him. 

“Look at yourself, look at the way I dominate you.” He demanded darkly by your ear, fingers gently squeezing your throat as he forced you to watch the erotic image.  

“Taehyung, fuck-!” You whimpered, him never letting up his sinful movements. 

“Look at the way I have you bent over for me, such a bottom taking my fingers like a good girl.” A shiver ran down your spine, Taehyung shoving his fingers into your soaked pussy so harshly he was constantly sending you forward, your breasts repeatedly hitting the counter adding to your spiking arousal. 

His beautiful hand choking you was like ecstasy, watching his carnal expression utterly enjoy making a mess out of you, leaned over and nibbling at your ear. “How’s it feel having your husband finger-fuck you with his wedding band, huh?” You gasped as he went so deep it was easy to feel your orgasm approaching, the onslaught stretching out your pussy. “Tell me, Princess.” 

“So-so good, Taehyung, fuck, I-I’m so close.” You cried out, his hand choking you edging you to salvation, meeting Taehyung’s blown out eyes burning with lust in your reflection. 

Taehyung then angled his three fingers to start hitting your g-spot, the rub of his ring doing absolute wonders you were clutching the counter with your entire life. Your moans were echoing in the bathroom, soaking him in greedily as you chased your high, his name on the end of your tongue with every sound you made. 

“Taehyung!” 

“Look at you, so pretty when I have you like this, screaming my name.” Taehyung praised, watching you take the merciless onslaught of his fingers. “But I know you’re prettier when you come, cum all over my fingers, Princess, now.”

And just when Taehyung shoved his fingers so deep, so roughly inside, your walls clenched hard, trapped his hand inside as you came violently. Taehyung softly pumped you through your climax, pussy still pulsing at the battering it just took. 

Your shallow breaths were indicative of your completely fucked out state, body near shaking under your euphoric release. Taehyung freed your neck and let you rest your head, trying to regain your breath as he held you up. 

He then slipped his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and aching. You were trying to collect yourself, leaned over and sucking in bouts of air as Taehyung came down to press some rewarding kisses to your shoulder, speaking softly. “I have a surprise for you downstairs, come quick, Mrs. Kim.” 

He then stood to his full height behind you, popping his stained fingers into his mouth as you remained exhausted against the counter, catching sight of his hard length. You watched his shirtless body grasp the handle of the door unbothered, however, utterly taxed peering at Taehyung send you a smug wink.

And once he left you alone, all you knew was that surviving Kim Taehyung would be the hardest, hottest thing you’ll ever do.  

You nearly stomped down to the first floor, needing to take an entire 20 minute breather just to fix yourself up from Taehyung’s rude onslaught. You plopped down on your seat by the island, wincing slightly at the contact to your newly stretched out pussy, finding the culprit nowhere to be seen. 

“Taehyung, I’m downstairs! Where the fuck are you?” You called out grumpily, still able feel the drag of his long fingers and ring inside you. You then heard the telling sounds of his footsteps echo in the open space behind you, addressing him absentmindedly. “What’s the surprise you were talking about? I’ll kill you if it’s something stupid.” You weren’t looking at him, instead stuffing some fruits into your mouth angrily.

“Very far from stupid, Princess, it’s actually-” He was then interrupted by a small, odd yip, your eyebrows furrowing. 

“Am I hearing things?” You then heard it again, another yelp that sounded nothing like Taehyung, and you were certain you’d lost your sanity. “Oh my God, what was that, am I going insane?” 

“Maybe if you turned around.” You whirled your chair with quirked eyebrows until you landed on the cutest, most adorable little Pomeranian sitting snug in Taehyung’s arms, barking once again when you met the animal’s eager eyes. 

“Oh my god, you have a dog?!” Your face instantly lit up, completely taken by how adorable the teacup dog was. You propped off your chair and ambled over to Taehyung, pouting at the endearing animal. 

“I do.”

“Please, please tell me a name.” You begged, palm coming up to pet its beautiful fur, wagging its tail.  

“His name’s Yeontan, I call him Tannie.” Taehyung presented him like a proud parent, adoring your charming grin regarding the puppy. 

He liked seeing this smile on your face. 

“Tannie! That’s so cute, aren’t you just the cutest thing?” You made kissy faces at Yeontan, thinking his small tongue poking out was nothing short of lovable. “Where were you hiding him?” 

“He usually stays with my parents since I’m not home that often. I had him come by just this morning.” Taehyung’s lips curved happily watching you pet his dog. “Do you want to hold him?” 

You pouted in an instant, pleading him like a child. “Can I? Please?” Taehyung laughed, transferring the puppy into your small arms and you immediately doted on the charming Pomeranian. 

You instantly fell in love, unable to get over how sweet his little yips were. “Why are you so cute? Did you know you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?” You rubbed your nose with Yeontan and he suddenly came up to lick your face delightedly. 

You giggled, completely swept up by the dog as Taehyung perked up. “He likes you.” 

You teased Taehyung without missing a beat. “Awh, I’ve only known him a minute and he already likes me better than you.” You chimed sarcastically, playing with the energetic animal. “Isn’t that true, Tannie?” 

Taehyung made a disagreeing look, scoffing. “I’m his dad, he’ll never like anyone more than me.” 

“Isn’t your daddy so mean, Tannie? Don’t you like me better?” Yeontan barked in what seemed like agreeance, nuzzling himself closer to you and you took it as having the upper-hand, cocking an eyebrow. “See.” 

Taehyung near lost it at you referring to him as daddy, huffing out. “He’s just doing that because he’s meeting his mom for the first time, and he’s spoiled.” He rolled his eyes and strided over to the island. 

“Wait, I am?” 

“Who else would you be?” Taehyung deadpanned.  

“Oh my God, I’ve always wanted to be a mom!” You cheered enthusiastically, showering Yeontan with kisses as he yipped happily. “You like mommy better, don’t you, Tannie?” 

Taehyung would’ve been mad, but he couldn’t help but adore the image of you showering his precious pet with endless love, momentarily considering what it would be like if you ever did become a mother to his children. 

A smile crept up onto his face, biting it back before he switched the topic. 

“That’s not the only surprise, Princess.” Taehyung found a seat, settling in as he eyed this morning’s breakfast. “I have to tell you something else.” 

“What’s up?” You replied mindlessly, happily absorbed in entertaining Yeontan as you plopped down from across Taehyung. 

“There’s an event we have to attend next Saturday.” Taehyung took a sip of strawberry juice, enjoying the sight of you playing with Yeontan. 

“Really? What event?” 

“Namjoon and Seokjin are holding a charity event.”  

“Ugh, another suffocating, snobby event.” You made a disapproving look considering your last event together, making senseless noises to the Pomeranian as he wiggled around in your arms. “Do we really have to go?” 

“This one’s different, it’s a themed event, more ambient and laid back.” 

“Themed?” You quirked an eyebrow, regarding Taehyung perplexed. “What’s the theme?”

“Cosplay.” 

You nearly choked on your own spit. “What the fuck? Cosplay?” You found the concept strange, though Taehyung was quick to make you understand the premise. 

“Look, it’s an infamous event they hold annually, by cosplay they just mean come dressed in accordance with a famous show or movie, nothing weird.” Taehyung explained, spreading jam on his toast. “Besides, you’ll want to come to this event.” 

“And why do you say that?” 

Taehyung paused, almost suspiciously so. “... It’s um, important. Jin-hyung puts a lot of work into it.” 

You cocked an eyebrow at his barely there save, but decided to ignore it. “That’s.. kinda cool, actually. Are we going as anything?” You inquired quite intrigued, thinking the idea was genuinely unique, not like your usual masquerade ball or boring snooze fest. 

“I have an idea.” Taehyung mused, realizing you can’t really take a bite of anything with Yeontan yipping in your arms, so his hand absentmindedly jut out to fork at a kiwi, offering it to you. 

You took a bite, chewing as you covered your mouth. “What do you have in mind?” 

“I was thinking of Mr. & Mrs. Smith.” He picked at a strawberry of his and fed it to you. “I’ve never attended with a couple’s cosplay, I wanna try it.” 

You contorted your lips impressed, swallowing the fruit. You were lying if you said the idea wasn’t interesting, because scratch that, it was insanely hot. To think Taehyung thought of you two attending as John and Jane Smith was exhilarating, wondering what even crossed his mind to think of the idea. 

Was it that one sexy black dress Jane Smith wore?

“I’d love that.” You agreed, glancing up at Taehyung to find him already eyeing you, deliberately licking his lips as your gazes meet. You narrowed your eyes teasingly. “Are you buying me a dress again, Mr. Kim?”

“Only if you choose my suit.” Taehyung leaned back in his chair and draped an arm over the back, flashing you a smug look. 

You puckered your lips amused, lightly nodding to yourself as you returned your attention to Yeontan, cooing at the puppy. “A decent proposal, deal.” 

Taehyung smiled proudly until his expression dropped, elbows finding the counter. “So um.. I actually have bad news.” He started, gauging your reaction. 

Your eyes met his immediately, concerned. “What’s wrong?” 

“It’s just.. I’m gonna be MIA until that event. I have to fix all those messes at work from a couple days ago, I’ll be at the office really late.” Taehyung informed regretfully, hand finding the back of his neck. 

 Your expression fell a little. “Really?”  

“Yeah, that’s why I brought Yeontan to keep you company.” He rested his chin in his palm, watching Yeontan happily wag his tail in your arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, there’s nothing you have to apologize for.” You assured Taehyung, fixating your attention onto Yeontan as you cheered with an airy tone. “We’re just gonna have fun while daddy’s away, aren’t we Tannie?” You kissed the barking Pomeranian, lifting him up as you made cute faces at him.

Taehyung laughed with adoration, admiring the scene. “Don’t steal him from me, I love him too much.” 

You chuckled, setting Yeontan down in your lap. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” You mused, petting his soft fur gently. “But just remember to rest, please? Or I’ll bother you until you do, and don’t put too much stress on your shoulder, I never got to massage it-oh!” You were interrupted by Yeontan licking your face and barking for your attention, laughing at the puppy.

Taehyung couldn’t help but look on endearingly with a wide grin, your innate care for him paired with the way you were doting on Yeontan making his heart leap. “Anything you say, Princess.” 

Taehyung wasn’t kidding when he first informed you of his missing in action status, because you quite literally never saw him for a week and a half. He had to momentarily halt dropping you off to work and your lunches, arrived home far too late and even if he managed to return at a decent time, he was either cooped up in his study or awfully exhausted. 

And it felt.. disheartening, lonely. 

You missed him. 

You really did miss his familiar presence; his little reassuring smile and boxy-grinned laugh, his touch against your skin, waking up to his warm body in bed every morning. 

It dawned on you suddenly how essential he became to your life, used to seeing or being with him so often it was now strange to be without him, his absence leaving the house so empty, so vacant. 

You chose not to call or text him, certain it would only be a distraction and so you instead spent all your time with his adorable puppy, your only constant reminder of him. 

It’s what made Yeontan often flock to you now, currently in your arms once Saturday had arrived and you both finally earned the chance to see Taehyung at home. You were in awe as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him currently dress himself in the suit you chose in your walk-in closet.

Your eyes never left the gorgeous man, a man you had the wonderful privilege of calling your husband, speaking to Yeontan softly.  

“Doesn’t daddy look so handsome?” You asked him rhetorically, Taehyung adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt as a small smile framed his lips, glancing at you two through the mirror.  

“You know why he looks handsome?” You waited for Yeontan to bark, having developed a very close bond with the Pomeranian over the last week and a half. “Because he’s wearing a suit I chose, that’s the only reason why.” You took a playful jab at Taehyung, snickering to Yeontan as he yipped. 

Taehyung scoffed, grasping the coat of his suit. “I make the suit look good, Princess, not the other way around.” He narrowed his eyes at you through the mirror, but all your attention was fixated on Yeontan.

Taehyung frowned a little, not knowing when he liked having your attention so much. 

You perked up again, conversing with Yeontan as if he were a person. “Daddy was so mean leaving us for so long. That’s why we’re teasing him, aren’t we?” Yeontan barked in agreeance, giggling as you petted him lovingly.  

“Yah, you know I was working.” Taehyung had a hurt lilt to his tone, catching your attention and you just had to laugh, his lips pursed endearingly. 

You set Yeontan on the floor and instructed him to venture off downstairs, knowing Mrs. Choi or Seo must’ve set out his food for him. He happily complied and ran some circles around you before rushing out of your room, leaving you and Taehyung alone. 

Your eyes fell to him pulling the lapels of his suit jacket, setting it on himself to fit just right. You were already dolled up, wearing a nearly identical dress to the black evening one Jane Smith wore. Taehyung had written you a note explaining he had the slit cut just above your knee instead of at your thigh since he’d ‘rather have people looking at your pretty face’. 

It made your heart glow with sunlight. 

You caught him struggling with his tie slightly, not really adjusting to the correct length and you stepped towards him for assistance. “I’ll do it.” 

You clutched his hands to let go of the tie, standing before him as you began creating the knot. His cologne hit you hard, masculine and soothing like it’s always been, eliciting a small smile from you, glad to have him so near again.

Taehyung’s mellow voice then suddenly perked up, as if reading your mind. 

“I missed you.” 

You looked up at him with round eyes, your pupils glistening under the lights of the closet and Taehyung didn’t know he could miss something to this degree. Your lips eventually curved into a content grin, pushing up his tie gently and echoing him, saying the statement from within. “I missed you, too.” 

A beat of silence passed, not an awkward one, more so comfortable. His warm palms naturally encircled your waist, smoothing your sides as you finished working the tie. You leaned out of the way slightly, peeking at the suit you chose for him in full through the mirror. 

It was a tailored Ralph Lauren suit, customized to hug Taehyung’s perfect body the way it should, and you couldn’t help but find him absolutely nothing short of art. 

He was handsome in every right; from his lightly parted hair revealing some forehead but curled at his brows, all the way down to the bracelets adoring his wrist, his strong brows, sharp, yet kind eyes, the flawless shape of his pink lips. 

You rounded him and looked at your entangled bodies in the mirror, arms encasing his torso from behind. “Yeontan was right, you look handsome.”

He chuckled, his hands finding your dainty ones clasped together. “You look..”  He had to pause, soaking in the beautiful jewelry decorating you, black dress hugging your body just right, but also in a way Taehyung wanted to rip off. “Gorgeous.”

You could barely contain your smile, nibbling on your lip as your cheeks collected with heat, shy under his praise. “How was work?” 

“Stressful, but manageable.” Taehyung shrugged, thumbs soothing the back of your hands. 

“Did you rest properly? You came home so late sometimes.. I got worried.” You were just about pouting, Taehyung having missed the plush of your lips. 

“I did. You don’t have to worry about me, Princess. It’s my job” 

You sighed. “I know, you just work so hard, I always worry. Everything is probably so demanding and tiring.” You mused, aimlessly stroking his torso. 

“It is, but I can handle it.” Taehyung then chuckled lightly. “And honestly, I worry about you more.” Your insides melt into a puddle of fluff, smiling whole-heartedly as you rounded him, standing in front and bringing your delicate hands to his perfectly-structured jaw. 

“You deserve a reward, c’mere.” You lightly tippy-toed to draw your lips to Taehyung’s, his hands naturally encasing your hips as your mouths connected. 

It’d been a while since you two locked lips, allowing yourselves to enjoy the feeling of each other’s mouths kissing slow and intimately. He smiled into the kiss and pulled you closer to him, chests flush against each other as your arms draped around his neck. 

The kiss remained innocent, sensual until your hands glided down his broad chest with something in mind, canvassing his taut core until your fingers hooked onto Taehyung’s belt, pulling as its loop. Taehyung came off your lips, quirking an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” 

“Something you deserve.” You declared as you found his mouth again, tongue licking at his bottom lip as you unbuckled his belt, tugging it loose and accessing the waistband of his dress pants. 

Taehyung’s fingers dug into your hips, large palms holding you tight as he grew pleasurably turned on, kissing you hard. Your hands slithered past the barrier of his clothes and inside his boxers, grasping his large, bare cock for the first time and Taehyung hissed harshly, blood spiking to his dick in light speed. 

Your lips traveled to the column of his throat, enjoying the arousing feeling of his cock in your hand while he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing and it was enough to arouse your core. You began pumping him generously, thumbing the slit of his tip as he began to grow wet. Taehyung’s arousal was evident from his groans, fingers gripping your hips hard to ground himself. 

“Princess, we have to go soon.. we’ll be late.” Taehyung’s voice was breathy, utterly thrilled by you touching his cock. 

You whispered lowly against his throat, relishing in his beautiful sounds. “Let’s be late, then.” You then subsequently dropped to your knees before him, settling down as your hands went for his slacks and boxers, until Taehyung caught your wrists. 

“Are you for real?” He eyed you surprised.

You nodded up at him innocently, Taehyung weak at the image before him. He’d always wanted to see your doe-eyes from his angle, and now he didn’t know how to act. 

“But you’re all dolled up already, I don’t want to ruin your pretty face.” Taehyung regarded you softly, palm coming up to cup your face with his fingers swept up in your hair. 

You frowned, eyes nearly begging him. “But I want you to ruin my pretty face.” You didn’t care what convincing he needed, Taehyung has given you so damn much in terms of your physical needs, and now it was his rightful turn. “I wanna feel you in my mouth, Taehyung.” 

He sucked in air immediately, still genuinely lost on how you could look so innocent yet watch your body and words do the contrary, it was so easy to give in. 

“Okay.” He agreed gingerly, thumb stroking your soft cheek. You then eagerly pulled his bottoms down, freeing his cock from its restrictive confines and watched it spring to life. Your eyes went wide, thinking Taehyung was just being egotistical about his dick size until you saw it right before your eyes. 

He was huge. 

You heard him chuckle, “Told you I was big, can you really take it, Princess?” 

“Only if it’s you, Mr. Kim.” You teased purposefully batting your eyelashes, Taehyung growing instantly hard hearing his formal title in this context. You wrapped your palm around him and seriously marveled, genuinely taken by how pretty his cock was. 

You were always convinced his dick would be as attractive as him, and you were absolutely correct; its large length, pretty veins and glistening tip. It was practically beckoning you, biting your lips to contain the arousal slicking in between your thighs. 

Even the angle you could of see of him while on your knees was too sexy. 

You drew your mouth to him after a few pumps, thumb lining his slit again and he shivered under your touch. You came forth to wrap your mouth around him until Taehyung suddenly halted you, making you glance up at him. 

“Tap me if it’s too much, I don’t want to hurt you.” Taehyung stated seriously, gripping your shoulder and cheek with care. You gave him a small smile and nodded, not really used to receiving so much consideration in a situation like this. 

And it only made you want to give Taehyung the best suck of his life. 

Your tongue poked out to lick a slow, thick stripe along Taehyung’s slit, tasting the evidence of his arousal and the throaty groan that left his mouth was nothing short of heavenly. His hold on your face tightened as you provided more kitten licks, mouth wrapping around his engorged tip as a hand held his lengthy shaft. 

Taehyung groaned satisfyingly when you began suckling at his tip, tongue swirling around him with your free hand against his thigh. 

“Fuck, you’re such a tease.” Taehyung swore, your tiny mouth only on his tip enough to send him into overdrive, having thought about this moment enough times that now it was happening, he was practically on cloud nine. 

You grew confident off his remark, giving him one last lick until you began sinking down on his cock, taking him inch by inch as drawn out curses escaped Taehyung’s mouth.  

“Fuckk...” His hand snaked into your hair, gripping the tresses as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, tongue against the underside of his shaft as you managed about two thirds trouble-free. You dragged your mouth back slowly to give him a taste of the motion, feeling him shudder above you and you’ve never felt anything more thrilling. 

You sank down again, breathing through your nose as you pushed him into your mouth greedily. There was just about an inch left until he was hitting the back of your throat already, triggering your gag reflex and tears automatically pricked your eyes, but you breathed and relaxed your throat. 

You managed to drive all of him in and swallowed harshly around his cock, his moan so deep and pretty it was music to your ears. You watched him throw his head back in pleasure, the scene utterly hot and arousing. Your throat then reflexively acted up, your hand scrambling for his free one as support. Taehyung was already ensnared by your sinful mouth, voice breathy when he addressed you. 

“Princess.. you okay?” He breathed shallowly, nodding lightly as he squeezed your hand in return. You then drew your mouth back, beginning a bobbing motion while sucking his cock, attempting to take his length to the back enough to grow accustomed to it. His large hand gripped your hair to ground himself, groans spilling from his mouth along with your name as you let Taehyung set a steady pace. 

“Holy shit, I could blow just like this.” Taehyung breathed out, your mouth all the right kinds of heaven he’s ever wanted. He began guiding you up and down his length, maneuvering you to fit his pleasure until you noticed something off. 

You pulled your mouth off his cock, some saliva present as you caught your breath, looking up at him as you inhaled for air. “Why are you holding back on me?” 

“What?” Taehyung tried leveling his breathing. 

“You’re holding back, why?” You could feel how slow Taehyung was going on you, something apprehensive about his movements and it ticked you off. You didn’t favour him going easy at all, you knew you could take him and you wanted him to chase his own pleasure. 

Taehyung didn’t feel like admitting it, but the minute you’d gotten on your knees for him, there was one sentence you uttered to him over a week ago that persistently bugged him. 

‘I was usually the one giving than receiving.’ 

He wasn’t jealous about it, no, he was extremely pissed. Taehyung has always been able to read people, figure out the tiniest, most important details off the simplest of things, so it didn’t take him much to piece together your past relationship with that fucker Kiseok, and the rough way you were treated. 

It bothered him a lot, more than it should’ve. He just despised knowing a girl like you was practically used for the benefit of some jackass’ needs, often having thought about the nights you must’ve experienced with him only seeking his own pleasure. 

Taehyung hated it all, so when you’d finally latched onto his length, he couldn’t help but think he’ll never in a million years treat you the same way. He knew he genuinely was on the bigger side of the scale and wanted to be careful, needed to ensure you didn’t flash back to any daunting experiences with that son of a bitch. “I’m just being gentle, baby.” 

“Did I ask you to be gentle?” You argued, expression upset as you sat pretty on your knees. 

“No.. I just don’t want to hurt you.” You could tell by the concern swirling in his eyes there was something else on his mind. You knew Taehyung was sharp, he was most likely considering your past experiences in a way that was hindering his actions. You sighed a bit, thinking he’s cute for being considerate, but that’s not what you wanted. 

You wanted Taehyung to rail your throat. 

“Taehyung, I’m fine.” You gripped his hand reassuringly, squeezing for good measure. Your eyes regarded him pleadingly, meaningful as you spoke. “Don’t hold back, baby, I want you to use my mouth, I want you to fuck my face.” 

Taehyung sucked in a breath, your words so sincere yet dirty at the same time it made him somehow harder. He didn’t quite understand the feeling that overwhelmed his chest, but watching you declare that with such resolution, he forgot that you’re an extremely capable fucking woman that can power through anything, so he shouldn’t always treat you as if you’re breakable glass. 

He smiled down at you, your pretty eyes evident of your burning desire for him. You returned his grin, feeling his fingers fasten onto your hair again, drawing you back to his length as you opened up. 

You took his cock greedily into your mouth once again, letting him lead you down all the way until you deep-throated him. This time it felt right, so much more pleasurable as Taehyung moaned out curses and began softly fucking into your throat. 

You swallowed nearly every time he hit the back, wanting to hear the way a man like Taehyung unravels, and so you didn’t care for the tears that escaped your lash line, the tinge of pain in your throat. He started thrusting faster, Taehyung bringing you down on his cock as he desired while groaning out euphorically. 

“Fuck, princess, you’re taking me so well.” Taehyung praised, looking down to see your round eyes watching him, and he was completely taken by you.

His movements began losing precision the rougher he began fucking, driving his length into you faster as he chased the feeling of his tip against the back of your throat, near his much needed release. 

“Shit, I’m not gonna last long, baby.” Taehyung moaned out from the back of his throat, deciding this was the moment you would get revenge for the way he ruined you in his bathroom last time, craving to ruin him all the same. 

You suddenly gripped the back of his thighs and rammed all of Taehyung into you in one-go, disregarding the way it knocked wind out of your lungs. His strangled moan was utterly beautiful, rubbing your thighs together as you grew wet under his praise. “Holy fuck, baby.. your mouth.. so fucking good.”

You began swirling your tongue around his rock hard cock, swallowing around him and near choking on his dick with every deep thrust. All you saw was the hot image of Taehyung’s throat bobbing, swallowing with his head thrown back and constantly groaning with his deep, sexy voice, 

You watched him lose himself as you fucked him into your mouth, drawing back only to shove his cock all the way, tasting his leaking pre-cum and wondering how heavenly it would be when he came in your mouth. 

Tears were leaving your eyes incessantly, the air in your lungs dwindling the more you tried breathing through your nose to accommodate for his large length. You were repeatedly sinking back down on him as sloppy sounds escaped your own throat, reveling in the way he cursed and moaned your name, grip hard on your hair. 

“God, fuck, Y/N. I’ll fucking fall in love with you if you keep doing that.” His confession surprised you, allowing it to boost your ego and deep-throat him as hard as you could, not a single care for how much it was destroying your throat. 

You choked on his dick as he rightfully deserved, relishing in his strained groans and iron lock hold on your hair as he fucked your tight mouth, swallowing around him eagerly. 

It was all fun and games until Taehyung was clearly seconds from his climax, driving his cock into the back of your throat so harshly you were beginning to lose air, tears streaming down your face as he chased his high. 

You weren’t going to back out now, though, not when he was so close to his deserved climax you pushed yourself to keep going. You felt light-headed with so little air, throat in pain until Taehyung strangled out a gorgeous, throaty groan and came near violently into your mouth. 

His cum hit the back of your throat hard, leaking into you with full force you choked instantly, devoid of so much oxygen your body fell near limp until Taehyung noticed, instantly panicking as he lightly pushed you off him.

“Fuck, Y/N!”  

You landed on the floor, swallowing his cum as you heaved and coughed wildly, throat sparse and battered struggling for air. Taehyung scrambled to you, grabbing your face with utter worry. “Princess, why’d you do that?! I told you I didn’t want to hurt you.” His eyes were frantic, thumbs feeling at your tear-stained cheeks and you laughed through your nose, thinking he was too caring. 

“You deserve it, Taehyung.” You rasped out, voice hoarse as you coughed for more oxygen, clearly in pain every time you swallowed. 

Taehyung was so overwhelmed with gratitude he couldn’t even explain the feeling in his chest. All he could do was cup your cheeks and gaze at you with utter adoration in his eyes, speaking seriously. “You’re so precious, you know that? So fucking precious.” 

He pressed his lips to yours a few times before showering you with sweet kisses all over your face, pressing his last one to the tip of your nose as you giggled, his affection easing you. 

“Let’s get you water, okay?” He tucked himself away and helped you to your feet. You brought your hand to your throat when you swallowed, wincing at the pain but it thrilled you either way knowing you could have Taehyung moaning your name and so weak at your touch. 

He noticed the action and immediately returned to squishing your cheeks, murmuring unabashedly to you. “You’re my baby, you know that?” He pressed more kisses to your cheeks, forehead, eyelids, anywhere his lips could find. “Let’s fix your makeup, come.” He offered softly as he grasped your hand, the other wiping at your tears. 

He led you into the bathroom, rushing to get you a glass of water from downstairs as he helped with whatever knowledge he had of makeup to revive your look, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorable he was. 

“Taehyung, get your hands off me.” You swatted as his palms encasing your waist from behind, having constantly been clung to you the second you both arrived at the event in his Merc. 

He insisted you both not have a driver tonight, wanting to personally drive his pretty lady to the event in order to boost some of his testosterone, large hand snug on your thigh the entire drive.

Men.

You weren’t going to complain, it felt heavenly having Taehyung shower you with affection ever since you both left home, but it was slightly embarrassing watching people eye you both like you were insane. “People are looking, Taehyung, let go!” You hissed in a whisper, smiling politely at others while they flashed looks at you both.

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m never letting you go.” Taehyung declared, chin resting on your shoulder as he smiled widely, feeling the most content he has in his life. 

“For the love of God, I should’ve choked on your dick ages ago if you were gonna act like this, let go of me or I’ll elbow you, Kim.” You threatened, thinking he was cute but also trying to appear some sort of classy. 

The event itself was ravishing, didn’t have the same elegance or baroque-styled charm your engagement party and Jimin’s gala had. It was rather a smaller space, just enough to fit a good 100 exclusive people with darker, ambient lighting and a snazzy feel to the place. 

It nearly felt similar to the Great Gatsby but with toned down colours, spotting couples and people dressed in the cosplay theme of the event. You caught sight of common movie and show characters; Bonnie and Clyde, James Bond and one of his escapades, even spotting Gossip Girl’s Chuck and Blair. 

The venue provided a large bar on the right when you entered, a dance floor designed in front of it with seating arrangements around. Off to the left of was a large enough common area with a stage, impressively decorated to fit the theme. It was honestly breath-taking, thinking you were going to whole-heartedly commend Seokjin and Namjoon. 

You quite liked the smaller, more exclusive and less over-the-top scene than the last events you’ve attended, already in favour of tonight. 

You forgot about Taehyung until you felt him finally release you, huffing a retort. “You admitted to liking it, Princess, watch when we get home.” He narrowed his eyes at you, returning his hard stare with your very own as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder. 

He then suddenly attacked you like a predator does its prey, snatching you up from behind again as his lips playfully kissed at your neck, stuffing his face into your hair as you protested through struggling laughs. “Taehyung! Why are you being like this?” You giggled, “Are you trying to do something for potential press?” 

Taehyung minutely deflated, thinking you were wrong. “No, I just want to hug my wife, is that so bad?” He remarked honestly with a cute laugh, continuing his shenanigans. You were no match for him at all, only left to endure his affectionate onslaught as two very familiar voices caught both your attention. 

“Well would you look at that, arranging my son’s marriage was the best thing I ever did.” 

“Our baby bear’s all grown up, what are we going to do, Jae-in?” You and Taehyung automatically let each other go, Taehyung clearing his throat as you fixed your hair, addressing his parents.  “Mom, I’ve um.. I’ve been grown up for a while now.” 

“Of course you have, but you have a beautiful wife now!” Taehyung’s mother cheered delightedly, always having been such a warm person, convinced her son took after her. 

“Good evening, Y/N, how’ve you been, is your family well?” Taehyung’s father asked, you addressing him politely. “We’re all well, thank you for asking.” 

You were just about to echo the question when Taehyung’s mother approached you, excitedly clasping your hands as she spoke. “How are you, Y/N? Is my son treating you well?” You giggled ready to give an answer, though upon further inspection of you she beat you to the punch. “Why do you look a little paler, Y/N? Are you now eating properly? Is your health alright?” She bombarded you with worried questions, softening at how naturally sweet she is. 

“Ma, don’t be so invasive.” 

“It’s okay, Taehyung.” You assured him, returning to his charming mom. “I’m doing well, Mrs. Kim. Taehyung treats me more than well.” You spoke with a wide smile, her immediately growing scandalized. 

“Ah, my dear, you don’t need to call me Mrs. Kim at all. Call me Sa-ha!” She informed you with a gorgeous smile, thinking Taehyung was right when he said his parents are very good-looking. “That’s a beautiful name, just like you.” You complimented genuinely, taken by her beauty. 

“Oh no, my love, you’re so much more gorgeous.” She praised you, her delicate hands coming up to cradle your face, speaking earnestly. “You’re such a pretty girl, look at your eyes and lips! Your hair is just the softest too, now isn’t it..” She trailed, her hands maneuvering to lightly smooth over your hair, and you couldn’t help but think she felt.. like a mom. 

A mom you never had. 

Your eyes wouldn’t leave her, overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude you could never begin to express. “Thank you, Mrs. Kim.” 

“There she goes again, you know what? If it’s comfortable with you.. you could always call me Mom.” She peered gingerly into your eyes, gauging your reaction with her hands holding your hair, and you felt yourself instantly choke up at the notion. Your eyes watered, fighting back the urge to cry as you simply smiled at her, nodding lightly. 

“Of course.. Mom.” Your throat clogged up, mere seconds from giving away until you felt Taehyung’s palm find the small of your back, stepping closer as he rubbed reassuringly. You snapped your vision to him, finding him instead looking towards his father. “Father, shouldn’t the best thing you’ve ever done been taking over the company? That wasn’t very Kim-like of you.” He joked, drawing attention away from you. 

“Yah, you’re my pride and joy, anytime you’re happy is the best thing that happens to me.” Taehyung’s father kisses his teeth playfully, folding his arms as he shook his head. 

You all chuckled at him, endeared by the words. “Ah, if only I grow up to be a father like that.” Taehyung commended him for the sole purpose of it, though Taehyung’s mother immediately beamed. “Oh! Speaking of you being a father, when am I going to see my beautiful grandchildren?”

You and Taehyung simultaneously choked. 

He coughed out nervously next to you, hand still resting at your back while you swallowed thickly. “Mother.. I believe we’re um, quite young for that.” He got out, you nodding along. 

“Y-yes, mom, we still have time as a couple, you know?” You offered.  

“I suppose so.” Taehyung’s mother acquiesced. “Though you’re both very good-looking, your children would be gorgeous!” She mused, wholly endeared as she regarded you two and you didn’t know whether to choke on your spit again or like the idea of having babies with Taehyung. 

Your mind then flashed to Taehyung as a father, finding the scene too adorable for your own good so you threw the idea away, refocusing on the group. Just when you were going to return to the conversation, you felt your phone buzz in your purse, exclaiming upon realization

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but I’m getting a call.” You informed politely, Taehyung’s parents waving you off that it’s okay “Ah, go for it, Y/N, we’ll be around.” His father assured you and you all split off. 

Taehyung followed after you fishing for your device, displaying the screen only to be completely caught off guard. “What?” You pressed the green call button of an unknown number, voice inquisitive as you answered. “Hello?” 

“Hey, baby sister.” 

You froze, all hell practically freezing over because you had to be insane hearing your brother’s voice of all people. 

“What the fuck? Yoongi? Why are you calling me from a random number?” You were entirely shocked, eyebrows furrowed beyond belief as to why he’s suddenly calling you. 

“I can’t use my U.S number here, loser.” He drawled on the other end, only adding to your confusion. 

“Here? What do you mean here?” 

“Turn around, shortstack.” Your eyebrows shot up, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as you swiveled around hesitantly. Your eyes then feel to none other than your glass-skinned, gummy-smiled brother across the dance floor from you, your mouth falling completely agape. 

“No way, no fucking way.” You brought a disbelieving hand to your mouth, in complete shock as you heard Yoongi laugh on the other end, able to see his cat-like eyes creasing while he regarded you, holding his phone to his ear. 

You turned back around and looked at Taehyung in pure wonderment, pointing towards Yoongi. “He’s real, right? You see him too?” 

Taehyung bit back a knowing smile, breaking out into a chuckle. “Yes, you genius, go to him.” 

You abruptly ended the call and rushed over to Yoongi in a hurry, heels clacking as you swung your arms excitedly around his neck, feeling him wrap around you and slightly lift you off the floor. 

“Yoongi! Holy shit, it’s you, it’s actually you!” You cheered, Yoongi mirroring your happiness in his own hold. 

“And you’re surprisingly not a hologram.” He joked, setting you down on the ground as you felt Taehyung’s presence settle behind you. “But I missed you like hell, baby sister.” 

“Shut up, I missed you way more.” Your smile would not leave your face, uberly glad to see your brother again. “What the hell are you doing back in Korea? And at an event like this?” 

“Actually, that’s another-” 

“Surprise!” Your then eyes lit up at suddenly seeing your father turn around and reveal himself, mirroring the same stupid grins you and Yoongi also had. 

“Oh my God, dad!” You beamed, finding him for an embrace as he returned it tenfold. 

You were utterly blown away, a million questions racing through your mind. “What are you- how did you both-what are you guys doing here?” 

Your father and Yoongi laughed sheepishly at your priceless reaction. “We planned it after you called me, Y/N-ie.” Your father informed, his hand then resting on Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“I contacted your brother and we worked it out, though the man who pulled it all together would actually be the one right here.” Your father then extended his other hand towards none other than Taehyung, throwing another surprise your way you had absolutely no clue about. 

Your eyes blew out watching Taehyung smile shyly, shaking your father’s hand like an old companion as he neared him. “The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Min.” 

“Aish, you’re my son-in-law, call me Father, will you?” Your father laughed heartily, making Taehyung laugh as well and you momentarily adored the way his cheeks reminded you of bread. 

“So I’m finally meeting the man who lives with my kid sister, nice knowing you through more than just Google and some phone calls.” Yoongi playfully scrutinized Taehyung with an extended hand, Taehyung meeting him in the middle with a firm handshake. 

“And I’m finally meeting the Min Yoongi who has the entire New York architecture scene gravelling at his feet. Nice knowing I get to call a genius with the Midas touch my brother-in-law.” Taehyung flattered your brother suavely, just about to roll your eyes until you watched Yoongi’s usually mellow self crack an amiable chuckle. 

“I like you, Kid.” 

You were only left to watch the entire wholesome scene unfold before you, still clouded with a million unanswered questions. “All of you, hold on a second. The three of you goddamn planned this together?”

They all simply snickered together like friends, you practically gawking at your father, older brother and husband’s audacity to hide this from you. 

“After your call, Y/N-ie.” Your father began. “I felt.. terrible about what your mother did. I didn’t want to only visit you when I got back to Korea, so it felt like a miracle when Taehyung got in touch with me thinking we could get your brother back home, have us all together.”

“But-but Yoongi, how’d you even get him here?” You were still trying to process when, how and why in God’s name Taehyung contacted your father, but you needed immediate answers to explain your brother’s usually absent presence. 

Said man then perked up next to your father. “Dad made arrangements to give me a few days off, Taehyung easily got me an exclusive invite from his friends Namjoon and Seokjin, even made it so that I had some business with him to visit back home.” You couldn’t even fathom Taehyung somehow did this all behind the scenes, wholly taken by the sentiment. Not only that, but it was great to see your older brother you’ve always admired so much in a perpetual state of smiling, having missed him for the last few years. 

“I can’t believe this, I haven’t seen you in 4 years, Yoonie.” You felt tears well up in your eyes, realizing through all this good energy alone how much you missed your family. 

Yoongi immediately exclaimed. “Yah, don’t do that to me. Don’t you dare cry.” Yoongi pulled you into a supportive side-hug, speaking earnestly. “Of course I’d come for you, what mom did..” He paused, sighing out heavily. 

“She wasn’t right for that. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry I’m not here for you like old times, but I’m here now, and..” Yoongi struggled to get this sentence out, knowing how seldom he openly expressed his love for the people closest to him, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“C’mon, dear older brother, spit it out or else I’ll start crying.” You nudged him playfully, and he whined through a laugh. 

“Ah, I love you, okay? Jheez, making me embarrass myself in front of your damn husband.” Yoongi drawled, his attention then directed towards both you and Taehyung. “Sorry about not attending the wedding, by the way. I tried to make it but a lot came up, and jet lag would’ve killed me.” Yoongi apologized to the pair of you, catching Taehyung off guard. 

“Oh, don’t sweat it at all. Jet lag’s a bitch, I would’ve skipped my own wedding.” Taehyung made you all laugh wholesomely, bringing a smile to your face. Your brother let you go and you fit into Taehyung’s side like a puzzle piece, the crown of your head leaned against his chest. 

The moment was pure and blissful until somebody’s familiar brawny frame hooked onto Taehyung’s shoulder from behind, exclaiming almost humourously. “Tae, is it finally our cue? I can’t drink this stupid Cosmo anymore.” Jungkook appeared from behind him, holding out his pretty drink with a disapproving look. “I don’t know why Jimin gave me this, Vodka isn’t my thing.” 

“That’s cause you asked to taste it, Jungkook.” Jimin’s soft figure wasn’t too far behind him, shortly joined by Namjoon and Seokjin just after. 

“Oh thank God, you guys finally made it.” Seokjin sighed relieved. “I was thinking you were ditching our event.” 

Namjoon laughed next to him. “I actually took them for the fashionably late type, so I bet on it.”

You and Taehyung grew mutually scandalized, mirroring each other’s question. “You bet on us?” 

Namjoon pulled his lips back guiltily, trying to save himself. “It was Hobi’s idea, not mine.” You were then interrupted by Seokjin suddenly calling out for him by the bar. “Hob-ah, come here!” 

It wasn’t long before the dazzling Jung Hoseok came waltzing in, drink in hand as his eyes set on the both of you, his face automatically falling. “Ah man, I gotta give Joon his damn 50 now.” Hoseok shook his head disapprovingly, Taehyung’s offended remark following just after. 

“Hyung..”

Hoseok only waved him off. “Good thing you guys made it, Jin-hyung was close to popping a vein if you two didn’t show.”

“This event is highly exclusive, okay? It would suck if our own best friends weren’t here.” Seokjin defended, your heart melting a little at him referring to you as a best friend. 

“Ah, here’s the rag-tag group of brilliant CEO’s running the future of our economies.” You father mused proudly, regarding all the men as highly as possible. 

“Seriously an honour to meet you again, Mr. Min. We’d be pretty lost without your brilliant work.” Jimin extended his hand towards your father, commending him along with the other guys joining in like they knew him, and you grew confused. “Wait, you all know my dad?” 

“Jagiya, your father’s designed buildings for all of our companies.” Taehyung explained softly, his palm snug on your waist. 

“No way, you all have connections?” You were caught by surprise. 

“Indeed we do, not to mention your famous brother. Pleasure to meet you after years, Mr. Min.” Jungkook put forth his hand for our brother, greeting him humbly as the others similarly mused, causing Yoongi to wave everyone off. 

“Ah, all of you are equally successful, call me Yoongi and don’t flatter me.” Yoongi grew slightly flustered, smiling shyly. 

“But you let Taehyung flatter you?” You quirked an eyebrow. 

“Eh, the kid isn’t so bad.” He shrugged, and the group snickered good-naturedly. His attention then fixated on you and Taehyung entangled together. “Though speaking of Taehyung, I’m highly intrigued to hear you call my baby sister Jagiya right before my eyes, Kim.” He playfully scrutinized him, clicking his tongue. “Testing the waters so soon when we have yet to have our talk about the way you should treat my sister, a brave man.”

“Aish, Yoongi, don’t pester the kid. He takes good care of your sister, you wouldn’t be here if he didn’t call me about it.” Your father defended Taehyung, causing him to freeze up like a deer in headlights next to you, laughter spilling from the group. 

And just when you thought that was the end of all surprises, you suddenly felt someone sling their arm over your shoulder, met by a gleeful voice you knew all too well. “And me! Seriously, I was looking for the perfect timing and stood behind you like an idiot, but surprise!” Hana cheered next to you, you instantly wrapping her up in a hug. “You’re kidding me, you’re here too, Hana?” 

“The one and only, I remember the good ol’ Kim brothers from your wedding. Still have our secret on lock, right, boys?” She pointed at her eyes then theirs, eyeing them all knowingly, and chuckling upon remembering why she exactly knows them. 

“Wait, you guys already know each other?” Taehyung grew acutely confused, and you all snickered hilariously at him not knowing a single thing. 

“Business world, Captain hard stare, smaller than you think. Thanks for the call, by the way.” Hana saluted Taehyung as her attention then fixed onto your father. “Mr. Min! I haven’t seen you since the wedding, did you finally use those green tea masks I told you about? Your skin looks great.” 

“Ah, I can only count on my dear Hana to notice such a detail.” You dad mused with a good-natured smile, meeting your best friend for a snug side hug. “Bring your parents around sometime, will you? I feel old among all you kids.” 

“Oh please, you know my parents adore Greece in the winter, Mr. Min. And you don’t look a day over 40, don’t sweat a thing with us kids.” Hana’s bright energy along with your father’s naturally sent the group into fits of chatting, you instead watching her eyes attentively fix onto Yoongi. “Hey, Yoongs.” 

“Hey, Hana.” Yoongi smiled in that one impish way, gently hugging her to him. 

They detached from another after a lingering second and stood shyly, watching them venture off into mindless chatter as your brother scratched the back of his neck and Hana did that dumb thing where she tucked her hair behind her ear. 

You rolled your eyes, waiting for the God given day they stop being the classic ‘will-they-or-won’t-they’ couple and just get married already. 

“Mr. Min-I mean, Father, my parents actually attended as well, they’re around here somewhere if you’d like to meet them.” Taehyung offered up for him.

“Ah, yes, I believe I saw them arrive here. I’ll find them and we’ll probably call it a night after the auction, us old people just aren’t young enough anymore.” Your father joked, causing you and Taehyung to giggle with him. 

You couldn’t help the stupid smile that was gracing your face, in utter awe of how much love you could feel in this group. You were completely taken thinking your father and brother planned this somehow, wanting to mutually remedy the damage your mother had done, and you felt grateful that despite her treatment of you, you had a wonderful family. 

And the most crucial addition to that family was the very man holding you, having somehow been the mastermind behind it all.

You looked up at Taehyung, your hand against his chest like usual, watching him animatedly talk with his friends trying to convince them you were, in fact, still Jane Smith even if your fake thigh holster was hidden underneath your lowered leg slit. 

Taehyung was distracted, so he couldn’t see the stars in your eyes as you regarded him, your arms fitting around him tighter as you nestled closer, his soothing, masculine scent hitting you the same as it always has. 

And you felt his comforting arms find purchase around you like they always have. 

The event progressed as smoothly as it could’ve, having passed the speeches Namjoon and Seokjin quite comically delivered, entertaining all the guests with their whole heart. 

You laughed along with them, watching the wonderful entertainment and transitioning into an auction period where the money collected would be donated towards non-profit organizations or good causes. It was genuinely an amusing time, seated with Taehyung and the people closest to you all throughout as he kept a warm palm on your thigh and remained affectionate, endearing you. 

Your father along with Taehyung’s parents had turned in after the auction like he’d informed, bidding them both farewell as your father solemnly promised he had the Yun & Ryu situation under control, and he’d officially pull away from the project. 

The event was moving into a more late, socialized hour, dinner having been served and the music picking up speed and atmosphere. You were distracted by talking up a storm with your older brother, catching up on the millions of things you’d both been robbed of. You listened to Yoongi detail his adventures in America, smacking his arm for ever thinking “Americano’s” would somehow have a different name in America. You were also quick to tease him about picking up the guitar, never having thought your brother would revisit his old knack for music. 

Taehyung watched you as you smiled brightly with your brother, a perpetual smile gracing his face as he caught you genuinely laughing and talking, glad he achieved the goal he aimed for tonigh. He was completely absorbed in gazing at you until a heavy smack to his back pulled him out of his reverie, stood by the bar with his best friends across the dance floor. 

“Dude, you ever gonna stop staring at her?” Hoseok asks, catching Taehyung’s attention. 

“I mean, have you seen Y/N? I totally get him.” Jungkook agreed, causing Taehyung to roll his eyes and nearly hit the man.

“Yeah, but the way Tae looks at her now is completely different, guys, get with the program.” Jimin perked up, immediately on the receiving end of Taehyung’s confusion. “What do you mean? Nothing’s different, I’ve always looked at her like this.” 

“Yeah, like you’re in love or some shit. Just admit how you feel about her already, will you?” Seokjin offered, discerning telltale signs from his younger friend he’d much rather have admitted. 

Namjoon then added. “Don’t think I forgot our conversation, Taehyung. I think you already know your answer, you just don’t want to admit it.” 

Taehyung was only left to scratch the back of his neck, replying hesitantly. “I-I don’t have any kind of answer.” 

“What conversation?” Jungkook suddenly asked, “Are you hiding stuff from us? Cause I’ll definitely rock your shit if that’s the case, I didn’t partake in this friendship for 8 years to be-”

“Yah, okay, cut the shit.” Taehyung stopped everyone. “Like I’ve always said, it’s just a forced marriage, doesn’t really matter how I feel anyway.”

Hoseok immediately chimed in. “Tae, that shit doesn’t matter. I thought you said you chose her.”

“Yeah, Taehyung, it shouldn’t change how you feel. If you feel something, you just do. I told you that.” Jimin offered, but Taehyung could tell they were leaving out a very essential detail of this. 

“Guys..” Taehyung paused, leaving their eyes to instead look at you, watching from a distance as his eyes reflected something reminiscent of longing. “Even if I chose her, even if there’s ever something there..” His words were fading, watching you suddenly turn around in a haze and settle on him, eyes creasing as you smiled warmly from across the room, waving your dainty little hand. 

And Taehyung waved back, speaking despondently as his heart dropped. 

“She never chose me.” 

The statement hit everyone hard, especially Taehyung, who felt something an ache in his chest he’s never really felt before, watching you nearly dazzle under the soft lighting. 

It’s always been a daunting thought of his, thinking you never asked for this marriage. You never once actively agreed to marry Taehyung because of him, you’ve always explicitly expressed you only agreed because you wanted to make your father happy, to repay him. 

At first, it didn’t bother Taehyung. He knew this marriage would be nothing but for convenience, for an image he needed to upkeep, to hash out this work-life balance his father preached. But upon meeting you and spending his fateful days with you, his life has drastically changed, and there was always something different from the moment you two first met. 

It all started with that bandage. 

He knew right then, saying yes was something he did because of you. You intrigued him, left him speechless on more occasions than he could count and gradually began to understand the reason why his father opted for you; it was how you both are so different yet similar, peculiarly complemented each other in a way that made sense.

It always crossed Taehyung’s mind, however, what if you’re meant for another man? What if your red string of fate connects elsewhere, and he’s merely an obstacle standing in the middle of that connection? What if you two won’t always make sense in the future?

His mind raced as his eyes remained on you, swirling with an emotion he had no concept of. Nothing was said in the group in the meantime, only interrupted when the song in the venue changed into something slow and intimate. 

He watched you abandon Yoongi and scramble for Hana, nearly smacking and shoving at her to approach your older brother. Taehyung watched Hana complain, just about ready to sprint out of the venue until you seemed to threaten her with something, Taehyung cracking up at the comical exchange. 

You then came venturing towards him, still distracted with gesturing Hana to meet Yoongi, who stood clueless speaking with another person. Your eyes then landed on the group, quipping as you approached. 

“Well if it isn’t the most prestigious CEO’s in Seoul, may I offer a pompous bow to ruffle your coat tails?” They all snickered together, Jungkook speaking up. 

“That’s flattering of you, Y/N, though I would like to offer you a ruffle of your-ow!” Taehyung pinched one of Jungkook’s pecks hard, reprimanding him. “Finish that sentence and I kill you.” 

You chortled, hiding your laugh with a hand. “I was actually wondering if I could steal my husband from you folks, Mr. Jeon.” You purposefully spoke politely, reaching for one of Taehyung’s folded arms as he made a face at you addressing Jungkook formally. 

He only liked when you did that to him. 

“Man, I was actually gonna ask Taehyung to dance.” Jungkook feigned disappointment as Jimin smacked his arm, rebutting him. 

“Dude, get in line. Don’t you see the rest of us waiting our turn?” Jimin gestured towards the rest of the group, Seokjin speaking up next. “You kidding me? I’m finding my wife before she runs me over.” 

Namjoon was quick to chime in. “Yeah, same. We’ll be off, good people.” He saluted the group and ventured off with his brother. 

“Alright, fellas, looks like we’re making this a threesome.” Hoseok slung his arms over Jimin and Jungkook, listening to them complain as he led them away from you and Taehyung. 

You two were left alone, interlacing your fingers together as you smiled at him. “Dance with me?” 

He cracked a grin, licking his lips. “Of course.” He agreed, letting you lead him to the dance floor. 

It was easy to settle somewhere, draping your arms around Taehyung’s neck as his hands naturally encased your waist, feeling the warmth of his palms through the fabric of your dress. You began stepping together in a slow, rhythmic motion, finding the pair of you doing that thing you’ve often come to do; look at each other for the sole purpose of looking. 

Something washed over your heart, taking in a deep breath as you admired his every feature; his coffee eyes under the strobe lights, the way his cheeks slightly rose whenever he smiled, his pretty lips that add to the beautiful symmetry of his face. He was simply gorgeous, and you couldn’t help but admire him for something else today. 

“Thank you.” You voiced softly, pads of your fingers soothing the nape of his neck.

“What for?”

“I had no clue..” You trailed, hands shifting to hold the sides of his sculpted neck. “You talked to Yoongi or my dad. You were so busy with work, how did you have time? You didn’t have to do that at all.” You grew soft by the sentiment, feeling your heart leap the more time you spent time simply with Taehyung, simply in his presence. 

“It wasn’t much.” Taehyung brushed off. “I think.. I’m getting the hang of balancing my work and my life, anyway.” He offered, internally proud he was beginning to find the compromise his father wanted. 

“Are you calling me your life, Mr. Kim? Because that’s quite the statement for you to make.” You clearly joked with a light laugh, though your heart glowed at his little confession, swaying side-to-side with Taehyung. 

“I don’t exactly mind making it.” He shrugged. “Pretty sure I’m your life too, Mrs. Kim. Especially after the, what, 32 times I’ve nursed you?” 

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, bringing your hand to hit chest as he laughed, letting your hand rest over his beating heart. “But I really mean it, thank you. You didn’t.. have to do any of that for me.” 

“I told you, I do things for you simply because I want to.” Taehyung mused, his palms smoothing your sides comfortingly, sadly flashing back to you crying on him. “Besides, I don’t.. think I like seeing you upset.” He offered hesitantly like he did at your first event together, though eventually nodded his head with a confirmative grin. “Yeah, I don’t like it.” 

You could only giggle, not really caring if he could see the stars in your eyes anymore, feeling something for him you didn’t think you ever could. Your heart was pounding in your chest, mind filled with thoughts of only him, adoring his very existence and thankful you were able to meet a person like this. 

A person like Taehyung. 

He suddenly leaned down for you, bringing his lips to yours and he kissed you with something different, something much stronger than you two have previously shared. It was sweet, sealing your mouths together passionately and you never knew you could so easily fall for the way Taehyung’s lips feel against yours. 

And just when you disconnected from him, resting your foreheads together with small smiles, the music suddenly changed into a much more club-like sound, dance music infiltrating your ears. 

You and Taehyung snickered to each other, watching the dance floor suddenly fill with eager bodies looking to bust a few moves, even watching Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook roar to life. 

Taehyung looked at you and cocked an eyebrow, “Wanna light the dance floor on fire with me, Mrs. Kim?”  

“Anything you say, Mr. Kim.” You agreed happily, kissing him one last time before Taehyung spun you around by your hand and suddenly tugged your back to his chest, eager hands wrapping around your hips.

He started feeling up your stomach, catching the receiving end of your reprimanding. “Woah there, sailor, you’ve been handsy lately.” 

Taehyung puffed air through his nose, pressing his temple against yours. “I have a wife like you, you really think I can keep my hands off?” 

You scoffed, your hands finding his around you. “Bold of you to do in a room with my older brother.” 

“What can I say, you make me a bold man.” 

“You really wanna pretend like this isn’t because I sucked you off before coming here?” You cocked an eyebrow. 

Taehyung grimaced at the statement, thinking you were wrong again. “..It’s not just that.” He affirmed simply, deciding to instead crack a joke. “But do you know how long I’ve wanted to shut you up by choking on my dick? You run your pretty mouth too much, Princess.” Taehyung suddenly breathed by the shell of your ear, eliciting goosebumps all over your skin. 

“Mm, know how long I’ve wanted to ruin a smug jerk like you? You sound a lot better moaning my name, Kim.” You heard Taehyung scoff by your ear, licking his lips slowly. “I could fuck your lungs out of you, Princess, we’ll see then who’s moaning who’s name.” 

Arousal ran through your core, retorting him. “Why don’t you fuck me right now, then? Or are you still only talk?” Taehyung bored his fingers into your body, gripping you tight and close as he spoke darkly into your ear. 

“Not here, I’m not fucking my princess in some bathroom. We’re fucking at home.” Taehyung’s words lit your core on fire, his slow, teasing movements on your waist igniting you. “Mm, the place matters to you?” 

“Of course, so I can fuck you like you deserve.” Taehyung’s voice was lust-filled and deep, his every word laced with pure desire. 

“And how would you do that, Mr. Kim?” Your hand came up to travel into his hair, Taehyung’s lips canvassing past your ear to the sensitive skin of your neck, puffing air through his nose before he growled. 

“I’ll fuck you so good you won’t walk for days, show you you’re my little sub I’ll play with until you’re begging me to come.” Taehyung nibbled at your earlobe, purposefully dropping his tone so low you were shivering. 

“And just when you think we’re done, when your legs are shaking and your pussy’s still throbbing, I’ll fuck you slow and deep. So deep you’ll feel me in your stomach, feel every drag and inch of my cock inside you until you’re scratching my back and screaming my name.” Your core clenched, clenched under his words, the heat of his presence so intoxicating you were utterly restless, his hands growing greedy on your body. 

“Why don’t take me home right now, then?” Your voice sounded more desperate than you planned, but with the picture Taehyung painted in your head now, there was no way you wanted anything else that wasn’t him. 

Taehyung sucked in a breath of air, calming himself down. “Not now, I want you to stay here as long as possible, spend all the time you can with Yoongi before he has to go back.” His tone turned softer, lifting his head to press his cheek to the crown of your head. All you could do was bite your lip, thinking Taehyung’s duality was utterly dangerous.  

“I see,” You mused with a little disappointment, relaxing yourself. “Could I at least have a drink, though, please?” You asked sweetly, innocently after being scolded about alcohol by a disappointed Taehyung after the last time. 

He sighed, pursing his lips. “As long as it’s one, okay?” He then turned you around in his hold, inquiring “What would you like?” 

“Daiquiri, Hemingway please.” 

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” Taehyung pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before sauntering towards the direction of the bar. You watched him disappear in the crowds of people, on your lonesome as you lightly danced to the music. You then caught sight of Jungkook and Seokjin across the dance floor having some sort of battle, cracking a smile and venturing towards their near comically raging bodies. 

You’d taken a step until a cold hand suddenly grappled onto your arm, temporarily shocked contemplating when Taehyung’s hands got so cold. 

But you knew his hands were always warm. 

You immediately turned around and found a face you always froze up seeing, anxiety automatically flooding your chest as your eyes widened. “Kiseok?”

“Hey, Y/N, been too long, hasn’t it?” You began malfunctioning, thinking it’s insane he’s even here in the first place. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You tried resisting his iron lock grip, but he was holding you far too tightly. “You weren’t invited, why are you here?” 

“Just wanted to see my favourite girl, though I didn’t think I’d see you nearly fuck Kim Taehyung right before my eyes. Have you no goddamn shame?” 

“Have you no shame? What’s it to you what I do with my husband? Let go of me, you asshole,” you spat. “And fucking leave my friends’ party.” You tried ripping your arm away, though he only yanked you towards him, laughing smugly. 

“There you go again, using husband as if you’re actually married.” He spat, continuing his angered spiel. “I could tell from the minute I saw you two together that shit wasn’t real. I know you, Y/N. You think after years of our relationship I can’t read you like an open book?” 

“What relationship? We never had one.” You bit back. “I guess you can’t read me at all, because you’re not catching that I fucking despise you. Let me go.” 

He scoffed disdainfully. “Please, you’ve been in love with me for as long as I can remember, and I know you don’t love him.” 

You could only furrow your eyebrows in irritation, so fed up with this conversation already. “What the fuck do you want from me? Get it out before I start screaming.”

“I’m giving you a chance, Y/N, a chance to be with me so you don’t have to stay married to that conceited prick.” 

“Don’t talk about him like that.” You harshly tugged your arm. “You need to fucking let me go or else Taehyung will kill you.” You stressed as urgently as possible, but Kiseok wasn’t buying it as he grew invasive, too rough. 

“Kill me, really? You think that scares me?” He was too close, his hold too arbitrary and it made your heart speed up with suffocating anxiety, your system bubbling with fear as you flashed back to your ugly memories with him. 

“It should, Kiseok, I’m serious, he’ll kill you.” You began panicking, considering the way Taehyung grows angry and burns with jealousy. If he found you two like this it’d only cause a hideous scene in front of everyone

And you’d rather die than let anyone ruin Taehyung’s image. 

“I don’t give a fuck about him, I’m getting you back.” Kiseok grew resolute, resisting every protest you made as you tried freeing your arm. 

You started going into overdrive, body alarmed as you grew more and more fearful, near erratic as you became unsettled. “He won’t hesitate to kill you, Kiseok, you need to let me go.” 

“I’m not letting you go, not until you agree, I can’t fucking stand seeing you with him.” 

“I said let go!” You yelled, desperate to get away from him, so uncomfortable and afraid you just wanted to cower into a hole for eternity. “My brother’s here too, why are you doing this? Please, please just let me go.” Tears were pooling your lash line, throat clogging up with unbearable emotion.  

“I just want to talk to you, why are you trying to run away from me?” 

“Because I hate you, don’t you get it? You never once loved me and only used me for your advantage, I never want to see you again, you’re the fucking saddest excuse of a man I know.” You spat with pure disdain, yanking your arm from him but he only grew angrier, his hold tighter. 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” 

“Let me go before Taehyung sees you!” You screamed. “Don’t you fucking get it? It’s never going to be you, it’ll always be him.” Your eyes were frantic as you shouted from your heart, tears so close to spilling over your voice broke. 

“He won’t spare you, Kiseok, and I’m not letting him get murder on his fucking hands because of you!” 

“Does he really fucking mean that much to you, huh? Do you actually feel something for that arrogant ass?” Kiseok’s question made you irate at first though suddenly register the weight of it, teetering on an answer until you came to a crystal clear conclusion.

Maybe I do, you thought. 

Yeah, I fucking do. 

“So what if I do? That’s none of your fucking concern, let me go!” 

“You are my concern.”

“No I’m not! Cut the shit and get your hands off me!” 

“Who do you think you are, huh? You were the same girl coming back to me a year ago!” 

“And I’m not the same anymore! Let me fucking go-”

“Get the fuck off her.” 

You watched Kiseok falter at the hands of Taehyung’s violent shove, his tone formidable and enraged. It broke Kiseok’s hold from you, your shaking figure automatically latching onto Taehyung’s jacket as he shielded you from the asshole with his body. 

“What the fuck-” 

“Can’t you take no for a fucking answer, you jackass? Why the fuck are you touching her like that?” Taehyung spat, clearly raging on the inside but kept his fists tightened beside him, not allowing his anger to get the better of him feeling your fearful, small hold on his jacket. “Do it again and I’ll end your life.” 

Kiseok scoffed. “And there’s the narcissistic ass Kim Taehyung, selling his goody-two-shoes image as if he isn’t a pompous asshole.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think about me. Stay away from my wife or I’ll break your jaw.” 

“You’re fucking laughable using that title, you do know I used to fuck your wife, right?” Taehyung’s head ticked as his system flooded with anger, his blood boiling threateningly as he moved forward, though you gripped him back with caution.

“Taehyung, please. Don’t listen to him.” Your voice was vulnerable and broke, apprehensive knowing this entire ordeal was causing a scene in front of some of the wealthiest people in Seoul, and lord knows how fast word could get out.

Taehyung just barely softened at the sound of your voice, controlling his rage. “I’m giving you five seconds to get out of my face, or I’m breaking every bone in your body.” 

“Seems I’ve hit a nerve. She ever tell you how many times she screamed and begged me for more?” 

“Kiseok, fuck off!” You screamed as Taehyung visibly winced, gripping him back as he grew angrier.

“How I’d bend her over and fuck her from behind?” 

“If you don’t fucking stop..” Taehyung locked his jaw hard, the heat of his body so frightening, seething as you clutched him back desperately, but Kiseok carried on with arrogance. “How easily I’d get her on her knees for me and take me in her mouth-”

Taehyung fiercely snapped then, losing all vision as he lunged forward with a threatening fist. You suddenly rushed in front and hooked onto his torso urgently, stopping him once he sensed your form. “Taehyung, stop! Not here, not in front of all these people, it’s not worth it!” 

“Princess, get off me, now.” Taehyung’s voice was frightening, speaking in a demanding manner that made you want to cower. 

But you wouldn’t for the world. 

“No, Taehyung, please. There’s too many people here, please don’t.” You pleaded with him, but he was too far gone, his eyes clouded by sheer rage. 

“Y/N, I said get off me-”

“No!” You screamed. “Taehyung, just listen to me, please. This’ll be a mistake!” 

“No it won’t. After everything he did to you I’m not fucking letting him go, get off me right now.” Taehyung couldn’t control his anger, not when he’s been wanting to end this asshole since the second he knew of him, and your words weren’t reaching him. 

“Taehyung, please, please! Just walk away, please walk away from this.. for me.” You started crying, begging Taehyung with all your heart to not risk his name for you, hugging him so hard you could feel his hammering heartbeat, the heat radiating off him in angry waves. 

Taehyung was blinded by rage, so taken by the sheer anger boiling under his hot skin until the sound of you crying reached his ears. He felt pain at the sound, and used every ounce of strength to relax his fist, feeling your little body trying so desperately to hold him back. He just barely settled, chest rising and falling as his eyes flashed to the scene he’d created. He loosened his palms, bringing them down instead to rest on your crying figure to comfort you, glaring eyes finding Kiseok.  

“Come near her again, and I’ll really fucking kill you.” Taehyung gritted with utter derision, lacing his hand with yours hand and guiding you away from the scene. 

Until Kiseok spoke up. 

“Oh, so the great Kim Taehyung’s his wife’s bitch now?” Taehyung let out the driest of scoffs before he grew so furious he released your hand, drawing his fist back for a brutal hit until he stops when you obstruct him, swinging a hard right hook across Kiseok’s face.  

He faltered instantly, holding his face in pure shock as your hand immediately stung, felt near broken as you stood there seething. Taehyung’s alarmed voice sounded out somewhere near you in a matter of seconds. “Y/N!”

You felt the world around you disappear, hand buzzing with a numbness adrenaline was helping you conceal. Taehyung’s hands found your upper arms from behind, gripping you worriedly as you watched Kiseok touch the deep cut you produced on his cheek, all by Taehyung’s wedding ring adorning your hand.

And it was fucking poetic.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Kiseok’s eyes were burning, your every nerve alight at his audacity to even ask that. 

“Say whatever you want about me, I don’t care. But don’t you dare say a single about him.” You gritted through your teeth, hand pointing accusingly at him. “Come near us again and I’ll tell both our fathers every shitty thing you ever did to me, and don’t even fucking think I’ll hesitate to do it.” Tears filled your eyes, but it didn’t take away from the absolute resolution in your voice, unable to be hindered by any force right now. 

You could feel something wet trickling down your hand, still buzzing with the brunt force it took until Taehyung’s friends and your brother suddenly came rushing into the scene, completely frenzied.

“Y/N, what the fuck happened?” Jungkook’s worried voice called out, your older brother pushing past everyone abruptly until he caught sight of your injured hand, and Kiseok across from you. 

He filled with fury in a matter of seconds, rushing towards Kiseok as he aggressively grabbed his collar, seething through his teeth. “What the fuck did you do to my sister?” 

You clambered towards Yoongi with worry, “Yoongi, wait, it’s not-ah!” Your hand ached the second you tried to reach out for him, faltering in pain as Taehyung caught you into his arms protectively. 

“Kid, get my baby sister out of here, now.” Yoongi instructed authoritatively, clutching Kiseok’s collar hard as you went into panic mode, calling for your brother. “But Yoongi, don’t-” 

“I said now, she can’t fucking be here.”

You were telling Taehyung to wait until Jimin reached out to you, voice sweet and pacifying. “Hey, Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna handle it from here, alright?” Namjoon’s voice then sounded out urgently from behind him. “You guys seriously need to leave, there’re too many eyes, get out of here.” 

“Don’t even think about going to emergency, you’ll only attract unnecessary press, go!” Seokjin called out, watching Jungkook and Hoseok try and calm Yoongi down as Namjoon started dissipating the scene of scandalized people.

You nodded along with Taehyung giving up on the situation, your hand incessantly throbbing as you held it pathetically. You and Taehyung began scurrying off until Jimin called the pair of you back. 

“Tae! Don’t you dare drive like this, take my driver with the Porsche. I’ll drive your Merc back.” He instructed his friend as he tossed his phone to Taehyung, who caught it deftly with a single hand. “That’s his contact, just take my phone and hurry, be careful!” 

Taehyung nodded frantically as he clutched you to him and instantly called the contact. He rapidly snatched a table napkin from an empty seat and swaddled your hand with it, rushing you both out the venue while speaking distractedly into the phone. 

All you could feel was the terrible sting in your hand, thinking you may have damn near broken it. You couldn’t move it at all, grimacing in constant pain as Taehyung worriedly nabbed your coat without a care for his own, hurriedly draping it on your shoulders as he led you out into the cold winter night. 

A Porsche arrived by the curb in seconds, Taehyung walking you with him carefully as he held the table napkin to your bleeding hand. He settled you in the back of the car, quickly climbing in himself as he informed the driver to step on the gas all the way home. 

Taehyung hugged you to him for dear life, squeezing the napkin over your injured hand as his other cradled the back of your head, breathing worriedly as he kissed your hair multiple times. Tears brimmed his eyes, so utterly terrified of the condition of your hand all he could do was clutch you to him with urgency, his heart beating out of his chest. 

“Fuck, Taehyung, it hurts, it really hurts.” You complained with tears, trying to swallow the pain down though it was more powerful than you presumed. 

“I know, baby, I know. We’re almost there, we’re almost home.” Taehyung stroked the tresses of your hair desperately, restless as he hugged you tighter, and all that ran through his mind was his pathetic inability to protect you. 

Taehyung situated you carefully on a couch in the main area, having immediately nabbed the first aid kit as he knelt down on the floor before you. 

He peeled back the blood-soaked napkin gently, wincing acutely as he did so. He casted it onto the coffee table behind him as you caught your first visible look at your hand, and it was far worse than you expected. 

Your dainty hand was severely bruised, purple marks adorning some of your knuckles as the abrupt impact caused your wedding ring to brutally slice into your skin, eliciting the terrible bleeding. Your hand was swollen, throbbing awfully as you struggled to maintain the pain.

You exclaimed once attempting to move it, Taehyung’s flat voice stopping you. “Don’t.” 

His tone was scarily leveled, expression completely schooled with his eyes utterly empty, never taking a look at you. You swallowed nervously, not knowing what to say to him, his demeanour having completely changed the minute you both stepped inside your home. 

He delicately took your injured hand in his, holding it as the pads of his fingers secured around your wedding ring. You readied yourself with a wince before he silently removed the ring from your finger, exclaiming in acute pain as it revealed a deep cut that bled near endlessly. 

Taehyung placed the ring on the napkin and reached next for the rubbing alcohol, using his teeth to rip open a packet and nab a cloth, holding it before your bloody wound.

“This is gonna hurt a lot, don’t move.” He warned stoically as you nodded, Taehyung taking a deep breath himself before he pressed the cloth to your hand.

You cried out in sharp pain, squealing frantically as the alcohol seeped into your burning cut, your other hand clutching onto Taehyung’s shoulder tightly as you exclaimed. “Taehyung!” 

He grimaced as if he were in pain himself, though kept the cloth there nonetheless. He cleaned the wound up and moved onto a tube of Polysporin for remedying the cut, gently dabbing some on. 

The sensation it sent made you feel better, your grasp on his shoulder loosening as you merely held him, watched Taehyung work in utter silence before you, face completely unreadable. 

He then grabbed some gauze bandage and wrapped it around your ring finger, ensuring he covered the entirety of the wound. He applied an adhesive to secure the bandage. 

“Too tight?” 

“No..”  

He then proceeded to apply a pain relief cream on the bruised and swollen parts of your hand, the cream’s cooling sensation relieving to your throbbing hand. He grabbed a tensor bandage and encased your hand with it, ensuring he left enough room around your necessary joints. 

He held your newly wrapped hand in his large palm, instructing you with an empty tone. “Try moving it.” 

You were able to extend your fingers to an okay degree, wincing when you tried to open your hand entirely. 

“Okay.. not bad.” 

“It’s not broken?” 

“No, you can move it.” You then both fell into a stifling silence, Taehyung merely holding your hand as his eyes never met yours. You swallowed nervously again, eyes watching him sadly when his bleak voice suddenly sounded out. 

“Why did you do that?” 

Your mouth fell into a little pout hearing him, becoming smaller under the scrutiny of his daunting tone. “I.. just.. I got pissed.” 

“You told me to walk away when I got pissed, why didn’t you follow your own advice?” He sounded angry, his eyes still as they remained down casted. 

“I didn’t like what he said to you.” You admitted honestly.

Taehyung scoffed under his breath, finally meeting your eyes. “You think I like what he said about you? I got angry too, and rightfully so, yet you stopped me and didn’t stop yourself, why?” 

“He had no right to speak to you like that.”

“Who the fuck cares what he said to me?” Taehyung argued. “My only concern was him scaring you, why couldn’t you let me handle him?” 

“Because I got angry with what he said to you.” 

“Then why didn’t you let me hit him?!” 

“Because it would’ve looked bad on you!” You yelled, eyes watery as you grew emotional. You took a shaky, tried breath, sighing harshly. 

“He was my problem, and I already have a bad reputation, Taehyung.” You began, your sad eyes finding his swirling ones. “So I don’t care, what people say about me, what publicity surrounds me, how many people hate me. But you..” Your throat practically closed up, tears threatening to spill. “I can’t let anything ruin your reputation, especially if they’re my problems. There’s so much on the line for you, it means more than just you and me. Your company, your parents, your family business and name.” 

Taehyung grew entirely soft, taken by your confession. 

“It doesn’t matter what people say about me, Taehyung.. they just—” You sniffled, containing your choked up tears. “They can’t say anything about you.” 

All Taehyung could feel was utter devastation, licking his lips as his eyes watered, his palms cradling your injured hand. He brought his lips to the bandages, closing his eyes shut as he simply held you. He stayed like that for a while, almost in pain as his eyes fluttered open and for the first time ever, you saw a sight you never thought you’d see. 

Taehyung was crying. 

“Why would you do that for me? Why did you hurt yourself for me?” A few delicate tears escaped his eyes as he gazed at you with sheer regret, you growing alarmed. 

“T-Taehyung, it’s okay, don’t cry. I’m fine, don’t worry at all, I’m fine.” You tried reassuring him, hand finding his cheek as the sight of him crying broke your heart into a million pieces. 

“You’re not fine, Y/N. You could’ve broken your hand.” He wouldn’t let go of you, extremely troubled as he regarded your hand wrapped up in bandages. “I should’ve protected you, and I couldn’t fucking do that. This should’ve been my hand, not yours.” 

Intense emotion caught the back of your throat, thinking how wrong his sentence was. “Hey, don’t say that to me. You were there when I needed you, Taehyung. You always are.” 

You watched him deny you, growing emotional. “I just..” His voice broke as he bit his lip, letting go of your hand to come forward and engulf you in his arms instead, a hand snug around your back as the other held the back of your head. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It should’ve been my hand, it should’ve fucking been me.” He hugged you tightly, desperately, your non-injured hand coming up to rub his back soothingly as he shed some tears into your neck. 

You couldn’t stand the fact that he was crying for you, your heart aching terribly, and all you could do was try to soothe him, reassure him. “Shh, it’s okay, Taehyung.” You spoke gingerly by his ear. “If it’s for you, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

Taehyung was overwhelmed by gut-wrenching emotion, so sorrowful that the woman who always takes on the world so boldly could take such a bullet for him too, do something so selfless. 

No one has ever done such a thing for him. 

He loosened his embrace, hands finding your face to press the deepest of kisses to your forehead, rest his own against you as he spoke, eyes closed shut soaking in the feeling. “Thank you.. I can’t thank you enough.”

He then opened them and drew back to look into your eyes meaningfully, mumbling to you. “You’re my precious Princess, you know that?” He regarded you softly, holding your face intimately as you peered back at him, heart leaping at his endearing words. “My Princess I’ll always protect, always.” He mused, kissing your lips.

You could only smile, hand wiping his tear-stained cheek, locked in a gaze of emotions and feelings both of you could so easily discern, yet wouldn’t speak on for the world. 

He drew his lips to yours again, kissing you gratifyingly, passionately as his entire being flooded with gratitude for you; your care for others, your golden heart, your existence he was so attached to now. 

And when Taehyung brought you to your shared bedroom that night, helped you change out of your clothes and into his comfy ones, removed your make up and jewelry carefully. Iced your hand until your pain dissipated, insisting you take some painkillers before going to sleep, your heart couldn’t help but soar at his every action brimming with care and consideration, kindness and gentleness.  

And when you laid together in bed, Taehyung wasn’t afraid to hold you so near, cuddling you like you would disappear somehow, like you were a fleeting dream and if he didn’t hold onto you tightly, you may as well have been a figment of his imagination. 

Taehyung’s fingers tangled into your soft hair as you fell asleep, your face nuzzled in his bare chest as he suddenly thought back to what his friend Namjoon asked him a while ago, revisiting the complex question. 

‘Do you feel something more for her?’

And the more his mind fell into thought, listening to your slow breaths, his large palm cradling your injured hand as your scent of peonies lulled him to sleep, the answer came to him as clearly as anything ever has. 

Maybe I do, Taehyung thought. 

I think I do. 

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In the dark of the room, you tug at his shirt but Seokjin grasps your hand away from his chest. You thought he’s going to lead you to his cock just as he did many times before, but he pulls you closer until there’s no more space between your chest and his and leads your hand to his hole.

He’s dry as the dessert but her pushes your hand closer, until your fingers tap his puckered hole.

You can feel him force himself not to tense up, breathing deeply and dropping his head to your shoulder. His back is caved over you, like a tall child and he turns to graze his lips against your ear.

“I’ll let you fuck me too, if that’s what you want, jagi.”

Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hand away but he holds it still. Your other hand tries to push his chest away but his other arm wraps around your shoulder blades, unwilling to let go.

He keeps still in the crook of your neck, murmuring words you never imagined you’ll hear from the alpha, “I’ll moan like he did. Beg like he did.” His voice shakes, and you startle at the tears wetting your skin. It doesn’t even occur to you to wonder how he knew about Jungkook, and what had transpired the night before because here he is.

He’s crying. Your alpha is crying.

“Just please don’t leave me.”

MIN YOONGI 

(Your love for Yoongi knows no bounds, you can give him this. In which your arranged marriage is thwarted.)

“It’s a good thing we’re not bonded yet, huh?”

You try not to wince at the relief in his voice and instead you laugh, hoping that the dark is enough to conceal the wobble on your lip.

You are both lying on your bed, exhausted by your hours long of… what do you call it again? Ah, he did call it his favorite recreational activity. He figured sexual compatibility is an important factor in arrange marriages earlier on your engagement.

And you, in love with him for more than half your life, said yes.

His fingers are playing with your hair, while his other hand lifts a lit cigarette to his lips. He glances down at you, his cat-like eyes half-lidded.

“You want a smoke?”

Pulling the blanket higher to your chest, relishing in the slight flicker of interest in his eyes, you shake your head. “Actually, can you not smoke on my bed tonight?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow but says nothing and puts out his cigarette against the ash tray on your bedside table. Usually, you take up on his offer, and he’s not gonna lie and say that the image of your lips around a cigarette doesn’t stir his cock alive.

“Not feeling well?” He asks, the only time you refused his offer was whenever you’re feeling the drop after your activities. But usually, you’ll tell him outright, communication being as open as you both could.

You let a small smile touch your lips at his tone. He cares for you, you know, maybe not as much as you want him to, but it’s enough.

Or it used to be enough.

“Just a mild migraine,” you lie before pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

Yoongi smiles and kisses the crown of your head, “You know what cures migraines?”

Your smile grows wider as you look up to his grin, his hand already sliding down the small of your back under your blankets. “I think I have an idea.”

By the time he’s pulled out 3 more orgasms from you, the moon has started fading from the night sky. The brisk winter air entering your room by the open window, drawing goosebumps on your skin.

Beside you, Yoongi sits up and pulls his shirt over his head.

“You’re not staying the night?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “The trials start the day after tomorrow, I’ve got to get a head start.”

Your press your lips together, your hand sneaking down your belly. You imagine your child, the size of a pea, hoping they do not hear your breaking heart. “I thought you didn’t like being choices taken away from you.”

That was one of the major points of discussion when your parents arranged your marriage. It’s also a source of your many arguments at the start, before slowly becoming some sort of unwanted roommate in your makeshift relationship.

Yoongi pauses, there’s something in your voice that he can’t pinpoint. He turns to you, for once, you are unreadable. “This is different.”

“Oh,” you breathe. How so, you want to ask. How come a choice robbed by our secondary natures so much different than the ones robbed by our parents? How come it’s the lesser evil in your eyes?

How come I was never a palatable choice in the first place?

But you don’t. Instead, Yoongi presses on. “At least now, you know, if it turns out that it’s me, you’re free. You can go to university just like you want.”

“Yeah…” you chuckle dryly, “Well, good luck then.”

You don’t beg him to stay, you’re an alpha too and an alpha protects their pack. As your hand travels down to your belly again, you remember - you have your own to protect now too.

JUNG HOSEOK 

(You’re just his best friend. What can you say?)

“She smells like lilacs! No, wait, honey! Honey and cream.” Hoseok sighs, all lovestruck on your couch over the new omega girl in town.

As part of the search party that found her, he hasn’t stopped talking about her for weeks. Giving you updates on her recovery in the beginning, and then her smile, her eyes, and the way she laughs as time went by.

At first, you didn’t mind. An omega joining the pack is a blessing, given their rarity. They symbolize fertility and bounty, and you are nothing if not loyal to the community. You foster the village children as their teacher, you teach them the ropes of the land - how to feed the cows, how to plant the seeds, and how to prepare for harvest - after all.

But as time went by, as Hoseok’s visits to her home frequent and his visits to yours lessen, it’s become harder and harder to keep the bitter thoughts away. Hoseok may still visit you, but when was the last time you two talked about anything other than her?

“The trials for her mate starts next week,” Hoseok starts, almost as if waiting for you to say something, “I’m thinking of participating.”

From the kitchen, you tighten your hold on the tray balancing your tea and snacks. Without a wobble, you inquire as you step back into your living room, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he picks up one of your cookies, suddenly looking all bashful, “I’m unmated and I’m not getting younger so, might as well give it a shot you know?”

You frown behind your tea cup, “We’re barely past our mid-20s, Seok-ie, that hardly qualifies as old.”

Hoseok leans back and tilts his head on the back of your couch until it hangs in relaxation. “It’s different between you and I.”

It’s true, betas are not so pressured to reproduce early. After all, there’s nothing special to be had in your genes, you think bitterly.

“Besides,” he continues, “I think I like her. You know, maybe we should invite her next time we hang out! You can get to know her too!”

“I’d rather not.” It spills over your lips before you could control it, and Hoseok stiffens before turning his gaze to you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re jealous.” Hoseok teases, unaware at how his words hit home.

You stiffen, biting your lip before the dam breaks. “Maybe I am.” you whisper.

He blinks in surprise at the feebleness of your tone, “B-but… you’re a beta.”

You know. You know your place, in this village and in his life but somehow it’s different hearing it from him. Standing, you  turn away to step back into your kitchen when a hand grasps your wrist.

“I don’t understand.” Hoseok whispers, trying to look up to your face but thwarted by your hair. He doesn’t need to see your watering eyes to know there are tears in them. He’s reeling from the sudden change of atmosphere, smelling your distress in the air.

Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the sense of inferiority and your heart caves into itself. With the last of your strength, you shake off his hold, pointing to the door.

“I think it’s best you leave.”

KIM NAMJOON 

(Namjoon has always been a man of duty, and though you are tough and strong, there are limits to what you can and will endure)

You pride yourself to be level-headed, calm, and objective unlike many of the alphas in the pack. You’ve never lost your control, or flown into fury even during your youth but at this very moment, you summon all your discipline to keep your lips from pulling back and snarling at the older alpha in front of you.

How dare she?

How dare they ask this of you?

“It is his duty.” She repeats and beside you, Namjoon is silent. Eyes straight ahead, back as rigid as the trees outside your home. The home that you two built for your children that will come after your wedding.

The wedding that’s supposed to be in a month.

But the longer Namjoon stays silent, the farther that future seems to be. By the time the elder leaves your home, you don’t even see a speck of it in your mind’s eye.

The silence continue as you clean up the cups and uneaten rice cakes. The silent clink of the utensils echoing in your quaint home.

As you wash the dishes, you feel like an outsider watching your body go through the motions. Scrubbing the plate clockwise, once, twice, three times, before running it under the faucet. Next, you pick up the cups, here, clockwise, once, twice —

“It is my duty,” you hear Namjoon, and oh, he’s beside you, hand on your wrist, pulling your hands away from the frigid waters, “you know that, right?”

As one of the strongest and wisest alphas this pack has ever seen in generations, your betrothal to Namjoon was tolerated at best. Alpha bondings are common nowadays, with the scarcity of omegas. So yes, your betrothal was tolerated - just tolerated, even with you being as strong and as wise as your betrothed - but now?

With that young omega in the picture?

They are making you feel as if you’ve committed a grave sin against the community, as if it’s not within your rights to rage against the unfairness of it all.

They’re asking you for your love.

And he’s so willing to be taken away. Your heart breaks but you nod quietly, “I know. I understand.”

Namjoon stupidly thought that was the end of it. That you knew he’ll always come back to you, omega or not.

Maybe he was naive, or he truly was selfish to ask it of you but when he gets home the week after the trials to a dark cold house the surprise knocks him to his knees and drops his heart to his stomach.

You left the kitchen untouched, his mug still next to yours but, Namjoon pauses at the threshold of your room. There, glinting under the moonlight, sits your ring and the last of your scent wafts away.

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse. 

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’. 

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step. 

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir. 

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!” 

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells. 

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy. 

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink. 

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’” 

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you. 

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend. 

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses. 

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting. 

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed. 

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it. 

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame. 

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone. 

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.” 

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest. 

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours. 

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls. 

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold. 

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm. 

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance. 

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.” 

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist. 

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in. 

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole. 

“Fuck me.” 

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings. 

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat. 

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no. 

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do. 

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide. 

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

 Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!” 

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!” 

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke. 

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting. 

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago. 

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not. 

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down. 

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges. 

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance. 

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream. 

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites. 

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major. 

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency. 

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless. 

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?” 

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act. 

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!” 

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day. 

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage. 

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home. 

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster. 

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities. 

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man. 

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation.  He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one. 

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.” 

“Hey!” 

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self. 

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath. 

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact. 

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church. 

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out. 

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief. 

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream. 

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding. 

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out. 

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne. 

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon. 

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself. 

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin. 

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires. 

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side. 

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.  

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim. 

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain. 

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information. 

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!” 

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” 

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them. 

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck.  Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes. 

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.” 

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands. 

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.” 

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different. 

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you. 

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree. 

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can. 

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released. 

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself. 

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well. 

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat. 

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling.  You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat. 

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-” 

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say. 

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more. 

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again. 

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this. 

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long. 

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface. 

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment. 

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock. 

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back. 

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him. 

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right. 

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately. 

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release. 

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high. 

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you.  An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use. 

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him. 

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want. 

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago. 

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

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Fortunately for you, the amount of customers seemed to be decreasing ever so slowly, making it possible for you to finally take a small break. Your tired legs almost buckled under you as you leaned against the counter, eyes darting around the shop.

Finally alone.

“What a day…” you sighed, closing your eyes only for them to shoot open in shock when you suddenly heard the all too familiar sound of the chime on top of the door, warning you that someone had entered the shop. You straightened your back and looked over at the door, but there was no one there.

Maybe, your mind was playing tricks on you? It would not be the first time nor would it be the last time it had done so. But that thought was shot down when your ears picked up on footsteps coming toward you. The steps were hesitant and came to a sudden stop, you held your breath; Fear striking.

Seconds passed before you heard a whimper, immediately you jumped up from the chair and rushed toward the sound. Your eyes darted around, trying to locate the source of the noise. However, it seemed that the source itself had other plans because as you stepped around the counter, something or rather someone tugged at your pant leg.

Chubby fingers clung to the fabric of your pants, their snotty little nose buried in your leg and big doe and teary eyes looking up at you like you held the answers to the world.

“A-app-” The child hiccupped, pressing themself even further onto you.

Without even thinking, you had swiped the child up into your arms and started to comfort them. “Shhh, I am right here,” you murmured, your voice soothing and soft while caressing their hair to provide the comfort they so desperately needed.

As the sobs subsided, the child pulled back and looked at you. Finally, you took the time to look over the child; A mop of dark hair paired with big doe eyes, a cute little button nose sprinkled with freckles and chubby cheeks that matched the chubby legs and arms every child that age should have. They wore a beige dress with small hearts on.

A beautiful little girl.

“Hey there pretty little lady”

The girl let out a squeak and pressed her head into your chest again. You could not help but giggle. A few seconds went by before she peaked up at you from her ‘hiding’ spot.

“Appa.. no appa,” she stuttered, falling over her words in her attempt to communicate with you. You nodded your head knowingly, understanding what she tried to tell you. Your eyes flicked over to the shop windows, but were only met with the darkness from outside.

A sigh passed your lips; this was going to be difficult.

“Would you like some chocolate milk?” you asked, already moving toward the machine as the girl started nodding her head rapidly. Another giggle passed your lips at how cute she looked, her hair tossing around her head and a little pout on her lips.

You settled the girl on the counter and gave her a cup. She wrapped both of her hands around it, moving it up toward her lips before taking a big sip. When she moved the cup away, she let out an ‘ah!” while smacking her lips.

“Does the pretty little lady have a name?”

“Yejun” She answered proudly, puffing out her chest.

“Hello Yejun” you said and introduced yourself, offering your hand to her with a smile. She took your hand into her much smaller one and gave it a light squeeze before going back to sipping on her chocolate milk.

Yejun seemed much more at ease with her chocolate milk in hand even though her father was still missing. Luckily enough it was not long before your eyes caught sight of a frantic looking man outside of the shop windows. The two of you locked eyes for only a split second before his eyes flicked to the child in front of you.

“Yejun! Thank God!” The man ripped open the door and ran toward Yejun, who was making grabby hands toward the man while crying “appa”.

He frantically pulled Yejun into his arms and held her against him tightly for a few moments, before sitting her down on the counter again: “Are you okay?” he was fidgeting over her, feeling and searching for anything that might not have been there before their sudden separation.

Fortunately, he found nothing.

He heaved a sigh of relief and planted a kiss on her forehead, then he turned around to face you.

“Thank you so much for finding Yejun!” He thanked you before beginning to ramble about how she had suddenly disappeared from one moment to another.

You could not help but notice that Yejun’s dad was just as handsome as she was cute. She had inherited his dark hair and cute button nose, but what really made your knees bent was the gummy smile he showed as he looked at his child.

“I understand. Children are hard work, but Yejun has been nothing but an angel,” you assured the man with a gentle touch on his arm.

His eyes lightened up when you complimented his child, chest filling with pride that even in such a highly emotional situation his little girl had been polite.  

“Still..-” He started but stopped when Yejun tugged at his shirt, the man bending down toward her and she whispered something into his ear. He let out a soft ‘ah’ before straightening himself up.

This time when he looked at you, you could not help but notice the light glint he had in his dark eyes.

“Can Yejun and I invite you out for a cup of coffee?” He asked confidently. However, the sudden confidence seemed to diminish as fast as it had come when you did not reply immediately. “Of course only if-”

You touched his arm, making him halter in his sentence. You gave him a shy smile.

“That sounds wonderful, let me just close the shop.”

His friends teased him endlessly about him not having the courage to ask you out. Every time you met in your small group of friends  they exchanged conspicuously inconspicuous looks with each other, wiggling their brows at him. It annoyed him. So he knew, today was the day he finally grew some balls and made a move – indirectly. It was holiday season and like every year his friends and him threw a small Christmas party at his place. He wasn't the most creative person when it came to decorations so of course he asked for help.  “Is everyone coming tonight?”, Taehyung asked him while putting up some simple fairy lights on the walls. “Yeah, I think so.”, Namjoon answered, his hands fumbling with a mistletoe he bought in a store just a few hours ago. “Do you wanna hang that up?”, he heard a smirk in Taehyungs voice, who obviously knew about his crush on you. “Ah, I don't know, Tae.”, Namjoon sighed, a hand running through his hair desperately. “What if she doesn't see it?” he asked and looked up at his friend who looked down at him and chuckled. “Then you need to make her see it. Just hang it somewhere obvious – but not too obvious.”, his friend answered and looked across the room, “You could put it in the kitchen door. Not too obvious but easy to get her under it.”, he added and Namjoon scratched his chin, thinking about what his friend said.

“I guess.”, he just mumbled and pinned it on the door frame. He wasn't sure if it would work. And even if he managed to get her under the mistletoe – would she even kiss him? What if she ignore it or just laughed?

“Stop worrying so much. I'm pretty sure she likes you too. We all are, honestly.”, he heard Taeyhung say after hanging up the lights and coming down from the ladder he stood on. “Why are you so sure about it? Have you seen her?”, Namjoon sighed, burying his face in his hands for a quick second to let out a frustrated groan. “Yeah I have. That's why I'm sure. Everyone can see how clearly you two are just pining for each other but obviously lack some balls.”, Taehyung said to cheer up his friend and chuckled as soon as Namjoon shot an annoyed look at him.

Namjoon felt how his nervousness rose with each second passing by and the evening just kept going and going without him even exchanging one word with you, except for a quick Hi when you arrived at his place. He stared at the drink in his hand, taking a small sip, eyes following your every step. You weren't even making the slightest move towards the kitchen and he started to get frustrated. Why couldn't he just ask you out like a normal guy would? Your simple presence made him feel like a lost child, trying to get your attention yet being too shy to actually initiate a conversation. All he did, was listen to you when you talked and agree quietly. He wasn't even sure if you every listened to him when he talked. He even felt a bit confident as the party came closer but as soon as you walked through that door, wearing a dark red dress with a perfectly matched lipstick, delicate golden accessories complimenting your skin tone, looking just way too gorgeous to  be true, his confidence was gone, being a complete flustered mess.

“Okay, honestly. Make a move now.”, he heard Taehyung whisper next to him. “How? She's not even close to the kitchen.”, Namjoon answered and sighed. He wanted to add something but nearly choked on his own salvia when he saw you walking up to him. He coughed before smiling at you, forgetting how to speak for a brief second. “Nice place.”, you said with that angelic voice of yours. Taehyung excused himself, leaving you two in the living room without him. “Oh, thanks.”, he said, scratching his neck nervously. He tried his best to just calm his breath and not stare at you for too long. “I saw your book collection. It's really impressive! I even saw some of my own favourites in it.”, you chuckled and smiled at him once more but this time it really felt like his heart skipped a beat. The way you charmingly smiled at him, made his legs feel all jiggly. “Really? I can lend you some. I mean, ones you haven't read already, of course.”, he chuckled and placed his drink down on a small coffee table. “Ah, that would be sweet. There are some I don't know yet but they look really interesting.”, you said and he watched how you carefully put a strand of hair behind your ear.

He knew this was his chance he just couldn't blow it. “Um, are you hungry? I got some snacks in the kitchen.”, he tried to keep his voice as calm and down as possible but when you nodded and smiled once more he felt how he nearly bit his tongue in excitement. He felt how you walked next to him to the kitchen, his eyes fixated on the mistletoe in front of you. Just a few steps further and he had you right under it – just a few meters until he had a chance of finally kissing you. Anxiety filled his body shortly after, afraid of getting rejected by you – the women he liked just so much. But if he didn't try now, he probably wouldn't ever. So, just as soon as you stepped into the door frame he looked up and chuckled. “Oh wow – who put that mistletoe up there?”, he laughed and scratched his neck once more, before nervously looking at you, seeing how your eyes looked up at the mistletoe before back at him, the corners of your mouth forming into  a small grin. “A mistletoe? I guess we have to kiss now, don't we?”, he blinked a few times, trying to process what you just said to him. His lips curled into a big smile, feeling how his friends stared holes in his back. He cleared his throat, looking at you again, locking his gaze with yours. When he saw you smiling at him, his heart just melt right there in his chest. He carefully cupped your head in his hands, slowly bending down slightly, his breath starting to hitch, before finally connecting his lips with yours. It was like a wave hit him. The way your soft, plump lips felt on his, tasting sweet and endearing. His body filled with a warmth, which spread through his veins, making him feel happy. He was finally kissing you, still unable to fully believe it was really happening right here, right now. It might sound like a cliché but he really felt like a thousand butterflies were set free inside of his stomach. After a few seconds he slowly pulled away, looking back into your eyes seeing them glow as soon as you opened them.

“Finally.” he heard you whisper before locking his lips with yours once more.

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