Tsuki

~2023~

Working with Hoseok I was seeing sides of fashion week I never got to see trailing behind my boss as her assistant. When it was time for the actual show, I was sitting right next to him on the edge of the runway. Because my job was to help him communicate. If this was the reason I had no job at the end of the week, maybe it was worth it. At least I got this experience. 

Hoseok leaned over smiling, “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” he said in Korean. 

“I’ve been to three fashion weeks and this is the closest I’ve gotten to the runway.” I nodded, “Thank you for this opportunity.” I smiled at him.

Our attention went back to the runway. Occasionally he might lean over and comment on a design or ask my opinion. It was about midway through the show when a particular design caught my attention. Hoseok looked over at me, his brow furrowing in confusion and concern at my expression. 

“Y/N?” He whispered, “What’s wrong?” 

“That’s my design.” I said quietly. Then my eyes darted to the next model coming up the runway. “And that…” All I could do was sit there and watch as two of my visions, come to life, walked down the runway and circled back. There were changes yes, but those were my designs. 

Hoseok looked from me to the models and back. I was fumbling with my phone, pulling up the pictures I had of the sketches. He peered over my shoulder seeing the sketches. 

“I’m sorry, I need some air.” I apologized to him before getting up. We were just about to intermission and I knew it was unfair to him to leave. But I felt like I might suffocate staying in that room. I quickly got up, excusing myself as I crossed in front of those around us. 

Once I got outside the main hall, I felt the wave of anger crash over me. The shock, disbelief, and denial all washed away right into anger. How long had this been going on? How had I not seen it happening when I followed her everywhere. There were so many questions. I ran my hand through my hair, my mind racing as I tried to piece it all together. Yet, I was coming up with nothing. 

“Y/N,” I turned to see that Hoseok had followed me. 

“You should go back inside,” I said, “I don’t want you risking…” 

“Intermission.” He stated simply as he walked towards me. I looked up to see that a few other people had come out as well. Most would stay in the hall and mingle there. “Talk to me, please?” 

“Those were my designs, but it’s her name on them.” 

“Your boss.” He clarified. 

“Ex-boss. She fired me,” I told him. “When I tried to talk to her about stepping in as your interpreter she had one of her temper tantrums and fired me.” In no way did I blame him, nor did I want him to feel like any of this was his fault. “It’s better this way anyways. She was a horrible boss and now I understand why I’ve been stuck as her assistant for as long as I have.” There was this new level of clarity that came with this whole mess. The bigger problem was, I didn’t even know how to go about dealing with this. “I’ve been such an idiot.” I was so frustrated and angry. I didn’t even realize I had started to cry. 

Hoseok surprised me, he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. The sudden embrace was enough to ground me. I sighed, knowing that this was unprofessional, but I didn’t pull away. We stood like that for a few moments before he pulled back, his hands on my shoulders as he looked down at me. 

“Starting at the bottom, falling down, being knocked down, none of that means you have to stay there.” He smiled, “I should know. We fought hard to climb to the top. I know you can do it, too.” 

With intermission ending we had to go back. I did step into the bathroom to freshen up and he waited for me. I noticed that Hoseok lingered a little closer than he had before as we made our way back to our seats. I had to sit there and pretend that there was nothing wrong. 

At the end of the week there was another dinner to attend. Outside of the firing and theft, I had truly enjoyed my time working with the idol. When we arrived for dinner, Hoseok and I found the table that we had been assigned to. As we approached though, I shook my head. I had managed to work through the realization but I didn’t think I could sit at the same table as her. Hoseok looked up, recognizing my ex-boss from that first day. 

“Do you want to go?” he asked quietly. 

“It’s okay,” I replied, noting her smug look when she spotted me. “I can’t leave you without an interpreter.” 

“I never said I would be staying. We can go elsewhere. Have our own dinner.” 

I looked up at him, surprised by this, “If this is part of your schedule…” 

He was already waving over his staff. He spoke quietly with them before coming back to me. “All clear, let’s go enjoy our last night before we part ways.” 

I saw what he was doing. I also saw no harm in it, we had spent the last week together. It had been an interesting week. I found the idol to be charismatic, he managed to make everyone smile. His own smile was absolutely infectious. Working so closely, we had had the opportunity to get to know one another, too. I spoke of studying fashion and languages. He talked about being part of his group and how hard it was to be going solo for now. It wasn’t just about work, he also spoke of his upcoming military service, explaining that it was a requirement for all able men in South Korea. It had almost felt as though despite being brought together for professional and business purposes, a bit of a friendship had been forming. 

We ended up at a nice restaurant where we had dinner and a glass of wine. I noticed that Hoseok took his time with his single glass. After only a few sips his cheeks were pink. After such a crazy week, it was lowkey and an enjoyable night. 

“I do hope you’ll consider staying in touch,” Hoseok said as we were leaving. He had insisted on paying for the dinner and hadn’t even given me the chance to see the bill. Granted, it probably would have given me anxiety seeing whatever number was on it. 

“I doubt you have much space in your life for a lowly fashion assistant,” I joked. 

“You mean, an up and coming fashion designer.” He corrected me with a smile. 

We were staying in the same hotel, so we took the same car back. I couldn’t explain it, but the air felt charged. When we got back, the hotel lobby was deserted. We stepped into the elevator, each pressing the number for our floor. Reaching my floor first, the elevator chimed. 

“This is me,” I said looking up at him. It felt so final, a goodbye after the whole week. Because tomorrow we were going our separate ways, back to our lives. 

“Y/N, wait.” Hoseok caught my arm gently. He stepped forward, closing the space between us. Then he kissed me. It was unexpected, but that charged air between us ignited. I didn’t even notice as the elevator door slid closed again and started up to his floor. 

Nothing about this week had gone the way I had expected. Losing my job, interpreting for a k-pop idol, or ending up in his bed. 

One night stand with a famous guy was never anything on my bucket list. Yet somehow, I’d ticked it off. I woke up in Hoseok’s bed. The realization of what we had done hit me hard. I sat up, looking down at him as he slept. He was attractive and last night was probably one of the best nights I’d had. But I knew it was a one time thing. After today it was likely we would never cross paths again, despite his request that I stay in touch. I knew maybe it was wrong, but I panicked. Quickly getting dressed, I grabbed my phone and heels before slipping out the door. 

Thankfully no one saw me, I made it back to my room unseen. I took a hot shower to try and clear my head. One night stands weren’t typically my thing, but if one was going to happen having it be with a guy like Hoseok made it worth it. Right? I was supposed to be working with him, not sleeping with him. After my shower, I checked my phone. 

I felt his genuine concern in those texts. With the towel wrapped around me, I sunk down on the edge of the bed. I typed a response, deleted it, then typed something else. 

Hoseok: Woke up and you were gone. 

Hoseok: Are you okay? I’m sorry if what we did upset you.

It was the first time I'd called him by his requested nickname. 

Me: I’m sorry. Early flight. I’m not good with goodbyes, it’s easier this way.

Me: I’m not upset, Hobi.

One night, that’s all it was. That’s all it could be. Or so I thought.

Hoseok: Maybe we will get to work together again someday. If I need an interpreter can I keep you in mind?

Me: Sure, maybe I should get certified.

Hoseok: Then I would have to share. 

~2026~

Hobi: Your new collection is perfection. I'm proud of you, Jagiya.

Me: Thank you, Love. See you in Vegas?

When you finally reach Namjoon’s studio, the intern presses the buzzer that will notify Namjoon someone is at the door. It doesn’t take more than ten seconds for him to open the door, and he immediately thanks the intern, who nods politely and walks away, leaving you alone with Namjoon. He looks at you, calculating but not unkind, and simply says, “Hi. Come in.”

“Hi,” you say with a polite smile in response. You step through the doorway, the door shutting behind the both of you, and he gestures to the small table and chairs along the wall on the opposite side of the studio from the door. You take a seat in one chair and Namjoon takes the other, but not before offering you a bottle of water from his mini fridge. He then sits across from you and rests his elbows on the table.

“So, I don’t want this to be awkward,” Namjoon starts then, “so I’m sorry if it feels uncomfortable meeting me like this. The studio’s just the most private place we could talk, so it made sense.”

You shake your head then. “No, it’s okay,” you say, giving him a polite smile. “It’s not uncomfortable. It’s only slightly more weird than the random conference room down the hall.” You hope your joke lands.

Thankfully, it does. Namjoon’s dimples appear on full display and a small chuckle leaves his lips. “You’ve got jokes. I like it,” he says simply.

You crack open the water bottle he gave you and take a drink, setting it down on the table after.

“Management and legal explained everything to you?” he asks, straight to the point.

“They did. Our meeting was probably over two hours long because I had so many questions, but they were great about it. No issues.”

Namjoon nods then, pleased by that.

“Good. I always worry they’ll be rude or something. But thankfully that hasn’t happened before,” he muses.

You aren’t sure what to say then. You figured Namjoon would probably lead the conversation, considering they’ve hired other assistants before. So you just nod, silently thankful when he continues talking before you have to say anything else.

“I guess we can just get right to it,” he says, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be good,” you agree.

That opens up the floodgates. Namjoon talks, and after a few minutes, you learn he isn’t a talker… he’s a yapper. It’s like he doesn’t quite know where to stop, so he just keeps going.

“The last time we had a tour assistant was seven years ago, during our last full-length group tour. So some of us are a little out of practice with this,” he explains, “but a few of us have had assistants during solo promotions as well.”

“Oh, right,” you say, “I read the review the last group assistant left at the end of her contract. She seemed happy.”

Namjoon nods, presumably agreeing.

“She was. I’d like to think it went really well for all of us. We didn’t have any major issues, and that tour was longer than this one, when you add in the extension at the end. So I think it should be okay this time around, too.”

You purse your lips, thinking.

“So basically.. I just have a few questions I want to ask you,” Namjoon continues, “just to get an idea of how you might handle certain situations. If that’s okay.”

“Shoot,” you say simply.

“So- we get pretty stressed during tours. Although I have a feeling, this one will be different, since it’s more relaxed, more spread out, than our previous ones. But.. a few of our members don’t handle stress well. They’ll sometimes.. shut down a little and need someone to be there for them. Would you be comfortable with that?” he asks you.

“Of course, I kind of thought helping with stress management would be a pretty big part of the job.”

“What about listening if one of us needs to vent?” he asks then.

You nod again. “Yep. I’m all ears. I’m a pretty good listener, I think.”

“Good. That’s- good,” Namjoon says with a dimpled smile.

You take another sip of your water, still listening.

“I hope you’re outgoing. We need someone who won’t be uncomfortable with us throughout the tour. We don’t expect you to be best friends with us right away, but we’re hoping during this six-month trial period.. we can all get to know each other. That way, when the tour starts, everything feels okay. Less like it’s work- and more like just having a friend with us.” Namjoon pauses, looking at you, before asking, “Is that weird?”

“No, it’s not weird. I get along with most people, Namjoon,” you say, smiling yourself this time. “I tend to not let things get to me or take things personally. So even if one of you is just- needing to talk out some anger or something.. I probably won’t mind. I understand what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Namjoon sips his own water then, humming thoughtfully.

“Good. Look- shit. I’m sorry. This part really is the worst,” he says, a slight scrunch to his nose.

You tilt your head curiously. “It’s awkward, yeah,” you chuckle, “but it’s okay. I expected as much.”

“Are you comfortable with physical contact with us?” he asks then.

You think, deciding how to answer that question. “I mean.. sure. I don’t mind it.”

Namjoon rubs his chin then, like he’s deciding how to phrase something before he says it.

“Most of us.. we all like hugs. It’s a comfort thing. That okay?”

“Oh- yeah. Absolutely. I don’t mind hugs. I’m a hugger myself,” you say in response.

Namjoon asks you a ton more questions, but thankfully, the conversation flows easily after the first few questions. Even though it’s almost like an interview with him, he does his best to make things as easy as possible. He asks you about your hobbies, how you think you’ll handle being away from your friends and family for a year, and how you see this contract going. He also talks to you about how they normally do things during a trial period, explaining that usually each member likes to meet the potential assistant on their own, and after each of those meetings, the member will decide if they want to keep spending time with you.

“So- if any of us feels weird after our first meetings with you, we try not to let that be an automatic ‘no’ from us. Usually, if someone isn’t quite feeling it, they’ll come to me and ask my advice. That’s just- how we’ve always done it. I always try to convince them to see the person another time, because first meetings can be.. well, bluntly, weird as hell,” he explains.

You can’t help but let out a small huff of laughter then. “Yeah, that makes sense. I get it.”

Namjoon smiles again, his dimples more visible this time.

“And if for any reason you feel weird about any of us.. it’s your choice what you do about that. You can decide on your own, or if you want, you can come to me too. I know these guys like the back of my hand. I could give you some insight and help you figure out what to do.”

“Oh. Really?” you ask, brow raising in a bit of disbelief. You hadn’t expected him to offer that.

“Yeah, sure. But honestly, we’ve all done this so many times.. we’re all pretty good at making people comfortable during the first meetings. We’ve only ever had it happen one time that the person we were trialing had to ask me for advice, and it turned out it was just a simple misunderstanding. So, I’m pretty confident it’ll be okay.”

You’ve been taking mental notes this entire time, trying to keep track of everything Namjoon mentioned and asked you about. You think that will make it easier to meet the others if he decides, as group leader, to give it the go ahead.

“So, what you’re saying, basically, is just.. don’t write anyone off right off the bat.”

Namjoon’s dimples are on full display with his next smile.

“Exactly. Yeah. We’d really appreciate that.”

By this time, you’ve been in Namjoon’s studio for about an hour, and you can sense the conversation is dwindling a bit.

“I have one last question, though,” he says, his voice a little softer.

“Okay, yeah. Ask me anything.”

You can see Namjoon’s fingers fidgeting with the cap of his water bottle, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip as he considers how to ask the question.

“I’m just gonna be blunt about it, and I’m sorry if it comes out weird.”

“It’s okay. Just ask,” you encourage him, giving him a small smile.

He exhales slowly before his next words come out.

“If, and I say that seriously, like.. a big ‘if,’… things get comfortable between any of us and you.. would you be open to considering more physical contact than just hugging?” he asks.

Oh.

You expected that question. You knew from the way management and legal had talked to you during the meeting when they’d hired you it was a possibility. It doesn’t make it any less of an awkward question, though.

“Oh. Um- I might be,” you say then, “but that would have to be something we talked about pretty extensively before deciding anything. I wouldn’t be comfortable with something like that just happening out of the blue or anything.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen, as if he doesn’t understand how you could think that would happen.

“Oh- oh, god. Yeah, no, of course we’d talk about it. We wouldn’t- shit, I’m sorry. Did I say something that would make you think we wouldn’t? We wouldn’t expect you to just- yeah, no. Absolutely not,” he rambles, tripping over his own words, looking worried that he’s offended you somehow by asking.

“Namjoon,” you say then, your voice firm but not unkind, “relax. I’m not mad at you for asking.”

He exhales again then, letting out a long, slow breath.

“Okay. Okay, good. I just- I have to ask. Because, previously.. we’ve had that type of arrangement with our assistants. Not all of us, and not like- not like all the time.. but it happens. Tours get lonely, y’know?”

You nod, because you understand. Traveling all over the world, packing up and moving cities every few days, it’s not like any of them have the time or energy to go find someone they can trust to blow off some steam with. A person who’s traveling with them, who’s already vetted and known to be trustworthy.. that’s an easy decision if there’s a mutual agreement between them.

“Yeah. It makes sense. Management- they hinted at that possibility during our meetings. I understand,” you reassure him.

“Can I just- can I explain more?” Namjoon asks.

You nod.

And he rambles again. He explains how that’s a choice to be made with all the members individually, if they want to ask for that. How everyone is honest, open, and safe with how they go about it. And you listen, wanting to make sure you understand.

“Basically, we’re all adults. We know things happen, and we like to just.. be clear with what we want. So don’t be surprised if at some point, one of us mentions it, if you come with us on the tour,” he finishes.

“Okay,” you say with a nod, “thanks for telling me. It won’t offend or upset me if the topic comes up.”

There’s a quiet pause between you, like Namjoon is weighing his options. Deciding how he wants to proceed. Then-

“Okay,” he says, giving you that signature dimpled smile.

Your brow furrows slightly again, waiting.

“I think you could be good for us,” he continues, “so, if you think so too, we can exchange numbers, and I’ll give yours to the others so we can all start talking and get to know each other?”

“Okay,” you say, smiling back, “yeah, I’d like that.”

The two of you exchange numbers, Namjoon handing you his phone with a new contact page already pulled up, and you put yours into his phone. He then sends you a text so you can save his number, too.

“Wait,” he says when he sees you typing his name to save his contact, “that’s your personal phone, right?”

Your fingers pause on your phone screen, nodding. “Yeah?”

“Okay. Um- can you just- save our numbers under something discreet? Just for privacy reasons,” he asks you. “Not to be rude or anything. Just- so no one sees it and questions you about it.”

Ah. You feel stupid now.

“Y’know- I should’ve known to do that already. Sorry,” you say, scrunching your nose up a bit in embarrassment.

“No, you’re fine,” Namjoon chuckles, “just put me under ‘Joon,’ that’s discreet enough. I don’t know if management told you, but if you end up joining us for the tour, you’ll get a company phone. It’s more secure, helps keep things separate. But for now, we’d prefer it if you kept our names more.. generic.”

“Oh- okay, yeah, that makes sense,” you say.

You save his contact how he asked, and he smiles at you again.

“Thanks for meeting me today. We’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yeah. Of course. It was great meeting you, Namjoon,” you reply.

You and Namjoon say your goodbyes, and the same intern who brought you to his studio comes to escort you back through the building to the front desk. You turn in your visitors’ badge to the receptionist and leave the Hybe building, feeling a bit of the weight fall from your shoulders now that your meeting with Namjoon went well.

~~

Backstage in Tokyo, things are as chaotic as ever. Jin and Jungkook are bickering about who knows what, Jimin is having a crisis over how he should ask his stylist to do his hair tonight, and Yoongi is just sitting cross-legged on a couch with his nose buried in his phone like always Probably researching the history of the stadium or something, knowing him.

But, unlike your already-adopted pre-show routine, you aren’t busying yourself with organizing crates of water or helping in wardrobe. None of the members have asked for you, but tonight, you’re taking it upon yourself to go to find one member in particular on your own. It’s not something you usually do, usually you wait for someone to ask for you so as not to intrude on their pre-show rituals they all have. But tonight you feel you need to do this.

“Hobi?” you call out through his closed dressing room door.

It’s silent for a moment, and then you hear his muffled permission to come in.

You let yourself into his dressing room and see him exactly where you’d expected him to be. He’s lying on his back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t really acknowledge that you’re there, just raises his hand briefly in greeting. So you go to him, lifting his ankles and sitting on the couch before you put his legs back over your lap.

That’s something you’ve learned is okay with Hoseok. He’s pretty big into physical touch, and the two of you have gotten comfortable enough with each other to do these things without really asking.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice soft and soothing.

You know he isn’t. Everyone knows the cloud that’s following him after the news he received just after landing in Tokyo a few days ago. But he hasn’t asked for anything yet, and that worries you.

Another thing you’ve learned about Hobi in the months since you met him is that he’s one of the most vocal members when it comes to talking about his needs. He doesn’t shy away from asking for help, advice, or comfort when he needs it. He’s very in tune with his own emotions and doesn’t hide from them. He knows what he needs and how to take care of himself and his mental health.

“As okay as I can be,” he finally answers.

He glances at you from his position, his head resting on the arm of the couch, and gives you a small, tired smile. His hands are clasped over his stomach, and he’s picking at his thumbnail, so you know what he needs without him even asking.

You place your hand over his fidgeting ones and just brush your thumb over his skin, giving him that small comfort until he asks for what he really needs.

It doesn’t take long for that to happen. He lets out a shaky breath and flips one of his hands palm up, taking yours in his. His long, slender fingers intertwine with yours, holding your hand steady over his stomach.

“I didn’t expect that,” he says, his voice unusually quiet for the normally exuberant man you’ve known for seven months now.

“I know,” you say simply, “I’m really sorry, Seokie.”

He hums, acknowledging your sympathy.

“Thanks. I’m really- I’m really trying to be happy. Don’t wanna disappoint anyone,” he says, voice even quieter.

That’s yet another thing you now know to be true about Hoseok. He always worries about disappointing someone. The group, management, the fans. He takes things to heart and always tries to make sure that whatever he has going on in his personal life doesn’t bleed over into his responsibilities as an idol. But this time, you know he can’t do that without causing more pain for himself.

“None of the others want you to pretend,” you say gently, “they know you’re hurting. They’re worried about you. Jimin especially.”

That makes him crack a small smile.

“I know. Jiminie always worries about us. Sometimes too much.”

“How can I help?” you ask him, still holding his hand where he keeps it rested on his stomach.

He sighs. You know why. There really isn’t anything you can do to help. Grief doesn’t work that way. But you still wish there was something you could do that could make him feel a little better, even if only temporarily.

“This,” he answers you, “just let me sit with this and don’t ask me to pretend to be happy.”

“Already done,” you respond.

He keeps his thighs resting over your lap, his fingers laced firmly with yours, and just lies on the couch. He doesn’t speak much after that, but you don’t care. As long as you’re helping, you don’t care if you have to just sit in silence with him.

He sniffles a few times, and you know, without even looking at him, he’s crying. You don’t want to make him feel weird or embarrassed, so you just leave him be. Your thumb brushes gentle circles overs his hand, giving him that small comfort he always likes when he’s struggling with something.

“Hobi.”

“Hm?” he asks. His voice is quiet, smaller than you’ve ever heard.

“Come here.”

And that’s all he needs to completely fall apart. He repositions himself, now lying his head fully on your lap, and sobs. Your fingers thread through his hair, trying to soothe the pain as much as possible. As your fingers work through his dark brown hair, you pick up your phone with your other hand and send a text to Jimin. Minutes later, he slips into the dressing room, his face crumpling as he sees Hoseok’s emotional state.

“Oh- shit,” he mutters under his breath, immediately joining the two of you on the couch. He maneuvers Hoseok’s body so he can sit, wrapping an arm around him as best as he can in that position.

“Hobi-hyung,” Jimin says quietly, his voice a soft coo, “we’re here.”

The three of you sit there for the remaining hour before they need to go to hair and makeup. You stay like that until Hoseok wipes his eyes and finally sits up, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen.

“We’ll take care of it in makeup,” Jimin reassures him. “No one will know.”

Of course, Hoseok knows that. And even if the others saw his puffy eyes, they wouldn’t mention it to him. They’d just hug him, or rub his back briefly on the way to the makeup room, because they know him. They know he’s struggling and they’re probably expecting this.

That’s one thing you love most about these guys. They’re family. They know each other inside and out, they always support each other, and they never judge any of each other’s emotions or struggles. They all know exactly how hard it is to be them.

You wish Hobi could be with his family back in Korea. But he would never miss a show, and honestly? He probably feels like performing will distract him and help him through his grief. No one would suggest otherwise- he’s been doing this long enough to know what’s best for himself.

As Hoseok and Jimin leave the dressing room to have their hair and makeup done before the concert, a small smile crosses your face as you remember the day you first met Hoseok.

~~

September 2025

Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Hoseok. Are you free for coffee tomorrow afternoon? I have an hour in the middle of my day, would like to meet you finally. :)

You read the text when your phone buzzes, saving his contact in your phone now that he’s the second member to reach out to you. Ever since your first meeting with Namjoon a few weeks ago, you’d been thinking about discreet ways to save each member’s number in your contacts, so you save Hoseok’s under ‘Hope.’

You: Hi! Sure, I’m free tomorrow. What time?

Going about your day, you choose to pick up some groceries, coming home to your apartment with a few bags of items you needed to get through the next few days. As you’re putting vegetables into the drawers in your fridge, your phone finally vibrates again.

Hope: Would 3pm be okay? I know a place near Seochon that has good Americanos. It’s quiet.

You: That works. Send me the location?

Hope: [Dropped Pin]

Hope: See you then. :)

The next day, after finishing some errands you needed to run in the morning, you take the subway out to the Seochon neighborhood. You haven’t spent much time there before, so it’s pretty unfamiliar, but you get your bearings easily once you realize how small it really is. Exiting the subway station, you follow the pin Hoseok had sent you yesterday until you arrive at a nondescript white storefront tucked in between what looks like residential homes. The entrance door is a large, brown wood, with windows on either side. The windows on the left side are smaller and have a black tint covering them, giving a bit of privacy from the street outside.

Pulling open the cafe door, you look around, seeing Hoseok sitting at a table tucked in the back corner, scrolling through his phone. A black face mask covers his mouth and nose, dark brown locks of tousled hair falling into his eyes. When the bell above the door tinkles, he looks up, immediately setting his phone down on the table. He seems like he isn’t sure if you are who he thinks you are, so you walk over to his table yourself.

“Hi,” you say, “Hoseok, right?”

He stands when you get to the table, figuring out that you’re obviously who he’s waiting for, and pulls you into a side hug in greeting. You’re surprised, but your arm curls around his back in response, anyway.

“Hi- wait, this is okay, right? Joon said you were fine with hugs,” he says, looking down at you.

“Oh, yeah. Perfectly fine. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He gestures to the bench seat across from him, and you sit, setting your purse into the basket under the table. He slides the menu tablet across the table to you so you can order your drink, and since you’ve never been to this cafe before, you trust his suggestion from yesterday and order an iced Americano.

“Did Joon tell you anything about us?” Hoseok asks then.

“Not much, really. He said it would be easier to just get to know all of you myself than to let him tell me everything,” you answer.

Hoseok sips his Americano, having already ordered one before you arrived, and nods.

“That’s true. I assume he asked you all the hard questions already,” he says with a quiet laugh.

“Yep. Full-blown interview with that one,” you chuckle in response, “but it was okay. He made me feel comfortable.”

One thing you learn almost instantly about Hoseok is that he’s approachable and friendly. He isn’t like Namjoon in the sense that he has no interest whatsoever in asking you job-related questions or treating this meeting like an interview. He basically treats it like it’s just getting coffee with a friend, even though you’re just meeting for the first time.

He talks to you about himself and asks questions about you to get to know you more. He laughs a lot and tells you stories about things he’s been up to in the last few weeks since Hybe hired you on a trial basis to be their assistant. He’s sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help but immediately feel welcomed by the way he treats you.

“Can I ask you something kind of.. well, kind of stupid?” you ask after you’ve been talking for around thirty minutes.

“Yeah, obviously,” Hoseok responds, a small smirk on his face. “No such thing as stupid questions.”

“Isn’t meeting like this, in public, a little- frowned upon?”

Hoseok sips his Americano, sets it back down on the table, and gives you an understanding look.

“You’re staff, no?” he asks simply.

Well, that’s that.

From what you’ve noticed about Hoseok so far, he doesn’t seem to care about the repercussions of being seen with you in public. He’s comfortable, at ease, and doesn’t mind that you could be photographed together at this cafe or that the media could spin it into a relationship rumor in seconds.

“Look, I know it might not make sense right now, but can you trust me?” he asks after a beat of silence.

You nod, because you definitely feel you can. He just has a way about him that makes that easy. Plus, he knows better than you how to handle situations like this and what’s okay or not okay for him to be doing.

“I’m seen with staff all the time in public. You could be wearing a huge badge around your neck with ‘staff’ written in bold, neon letters.. you’re a woman. If the media wanted to, they’d spin it into something else regardless of who you actually are,” Hoseok explains.

Ah. That makes sense.

“And- I just need to accept that, I’m assuming?” you ask, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

Hoseok’s lips curve into a heart-shaped smile then.

“Basically, yes. It’s just part of working with us. But, since we finished our military service.. the media doesn’t really do that anymore. They have better things to talk about than people we could be dating.”

Thankfully, Hoseok really has a way with words that makes you feel comfortable despite just meeting him and barely knowing him. That puts you at ease. You kind of knew that the possibility of rumors existed, so it doesn’t bother you too much. After all, he’s right. You technically are staff, even if not in a traditional way. But no one really knows that.

The two of you spend the entire hour at the cafe, sipping your coffees together and chatting like you’ve been friends forever. Just before 4 o’clock, Hoseok has to leave to get to a schedule he has.

“This was really fun,” he muses, that big smile on his face again.

You can’t help but smile back. “It really was. Thanks for reaching out yesterday.”

Hoseok’s facial expression shifts to something understanding then.

“How else would we meet if I hadn’t?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

Oh. He’s teasing, isn’t he?

You let out a short laugh.

“Very true.”

When the two of you stand to leave the cafe, he once again wraps one arm around your shoulders in a side hug, and you naturally return the hug. He’s about as tall as Namjoon, but the proximity makes him feel even taller compared to you. Your head barely reaches his shoulders, you notice.

“Text me whenever,” he offers.

It’s your turn to cock your head to the side this time. He laughs.

“What?” he asks. “We’re friends, no?”

“Oh. Uh- yeah, I guess we are.”

Giving you that smile that lights up his entire face, he drops his arm from your shoulders and lets you leave the cafe first.

“See you again soon,” he calls after you.

You smile back at him as you say your goodbyes.

Leaving the cafe, you realize you’re beginning to feel comfortable with him already. Which doesn’t surprise you, because from what you already knew about him, Hoseok has a way with people. But it makes you happy all the same.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all, you think.

Your first meetings with two out of the seven members had gone well. You didn’t notice any red flags from Namjoon or Hoseok, and you feel you could get along well with both of them.

Which gives you hope for when you eventually meet the remaining five members.

Tea time at the Ashwell house was by long tradition, a quiet affair, and has been for as long as you could remember it.

It was a silence that everyone in the household simply agreed to keep, and the Duchess of Ashwell, Lady Cecily, always brings out the most beautiful china just for this occasion.

Your father would go through his letters and official messages he considered too dull to discuss at breakfast.

Your mother, more often than not, usually spent the hour arranging and rearranging the seating for whichever dinner party is coming up in the next few weeks, murmuring names to herself as if they were pieces on a board she alone understood the rules of. 

And you would always bring a book with you and hoped that no one would ask you to set it down, because a closed book in this house was an invitation for conversation, and conversation in this house rarely went anywhere you wished it to.

Lady Margot, your sister, would usually be in the room as well. But ever since getting engaged to the Baron of Rohan, she has been too busy to ever be in the House of Ashwell. 

Today, however, no one has brought anything to distract themselves. 

Your father's correspondence sat untouched at his elbow, your mother's guest list had not been so much as glanced at, and you have left your book upstairs in your library, though you could not now recall the decision to do so, only that your hands have felt too unsteady that morning to hold anything.

The letter from the palace was placed quite literally in the center of the table, propped against one of your father’s books. The seal of the letter was broken now, yet it still presented the unmistakable crest of the Crown, and every time your eyes drifted toward it you felt something in your stomach tighten.

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"I do not like it," your father said, for what was perhaps the fourth time since the tea had been poured and each time he said it, it seemed to carry a little less certainty and a little more stubbornness. 

He has not touched his teacup and the tea has long since stopped steaming.

"Edmund," your mother said, trying to stop your father from saying more, especially since the housemaid was still present near the door and was only leaving then, "honey, the tea is growing cold."

"Let it grow cold, then," your father said.

The moment the housemaid left and shut the door behind her, your father sighed with relief, "I do not like it, Cecily. He has commoner blood running through his veins. His mother was no more a lady than the girl who irons my shirts, and I am asked to hand my youngest and brightest daughter over to her son as if that were some manner of honor."

"Papa," you said, as you set your cup down with more force than the delicate china deserved, “why does it matter that he has commoner blood?"

Your father turned to look at you as if you just asked him the most obvious question. He looked at you like you just asked him why water was wet, or why the sky on a clear day is blue instead of any other colour. 

It was the look he gave you whenever you asked a question he considered too obvious to require an answer, and it was, you long ago decided, the look you disliked most on his face.

"Why does it matter?" your father repeated in the hope that hearing it aloud a second time might reveal to you the answer you were apparently too foolish to see on your own.

"Yes," you said, refusing to be scared away by the tone of your father, "why does it matter whose blood a man carries in his veins, if the man himself is disciplined, capable, and by every account I have heard from anyone who has actually met him, more competent than half the lords who sit in Parliament?"

"Because," your father sighed as he set his own teacup down, "I do not wish for my grandchildren to carry commoner blood in them. Is that such a difficult thing for you to understand, ____?"

"What are we, Papa…" you said, and your voice had gone quieter now, "..what are we without commoners? What are we without the maids who dress us each morning and lace us into gowns we could not manage on our own? What are we without the men who till the very land you collect rent from every quarter? or the boy in the stables who cleans the stalls each dawn so that your horse does not stand ankle-deep in its own filth before you take it out for your morning ride? Tell me, what precisely you imagine keeps this house standing, if not the very blood you seem so determined to keep from mingling with your own?”

"That is different," your father answered, and his jaw tightened in anger, "the natural order requires that some are born to serve and others born to be served. It has always been so, and it will remain so long after both of us are dust. And that means I do not wish to see my daughter, my own flesh and blood, married into a name that only barely escapes being called a servant."

"He is not in service, Papa," you said, "he is a Duke."

"He is a Duke," your father acknowledged, though he clearly found the fact distasteful, "with a mother who was not."

"It is fine, I suppose," your mother interrupted then, "since he is still a Duke, and a Captain too, and there are certainly far worse arrangements a daughter of ours might have been given. Recall Lady Whitmore's youngest, married off at sixteen to a widower thrice her age, with gout in both feet and a temper to match, poor thing writes to me still asking after remedies for his moods that I have no earthly notion how to provide."

"That is hardly a fair comparison, Cecily," your father muttered, "you deserve better," he said, turning his attnetion back to you, and for one brief moment, you thought perhaps this conversation might yet end somewhere reasonable with your father.

"I agree," you said, and you meant it, "I do not wish to marry a soldier of any blood, commoner or noble."

Your father blinked, visibly caught off guard, like he did not anticipate the two of you arriving at a conclusion from such entirely different directions, his own objection rooted in bloodlines and yours rooted in something he clearly didn’t think to consider at all. 

"Well," he said, “he is still very respectable in his position. A man who has risen as he has, through discipline and merit rather than mere inheritance is not a man to be dismissed out of hand, whatever his mother's origins…"

"What side are you on now, Papa?" you interrupted, and you could not entirely erase the desperation from your voice even if you tried, "not a moment ago you told me that you did not wish for me to marry a man with commoner blood in him. Now you tell me he is respectable and a man not to be dismissed? Which is it?"

"He can be an exception," your father said, "with his Captain's title earned through service, and the Dukedom restored to him by right of blood, whatever the circumstances of his birth and his father; his father was once a most respectable man indeed."

Something in you went very still, "Did you know his father?"

Your father's expression changed, so subtly but you caught it, "I did," he said, and his voice had gone quieter, it was a topic that clearly has been left untouched and undisturbed for many years, "he used to come to this house often, in the years before you were born. Duke Jeon the elder was close friends of ours once, Cecily and I both, though I doubt you would recognise the name from anything but rumor and scandal now. We dined together, the three of us, more evenings than I can properly count... before what he did."

"Before what, Papa?" you pressed him for answers when he did not immediately continue.

"Before he threw it all away.." he finally answered, "..on a commoner girl who caught his eye at some harvest festival, of all the foolish, unremarkable places for a Duke to lose his senses. I told him it was madness and no good could come of a match so far beneath his station. I warned him that the court would never forgive it, and his own children would pay the price for a passion he could have satisfied in a hundred different ways without ever making her his wife. He did not listen to me and married her within the year, and got her with child not long after. The whole of the court turned its back on him for it, myself included, I confess, though I have wondered many times since whether that was the wisest course."

"And did any good come of it?" you asked, even though you already suspected the answer you would be given. You already knew fragments of the House of Jeon’s history as it was a well-known scandal. 

"They were murdered," he answered calmly.

Your mother was surprised to say the least, to see her husband talking of the history of their friend out in the open, something he has never done outside of their bedroom.

Your father continued on, "Both of them were murdered though the details were never made public, and I confess I never pressed to learn them, a cowardly friend I was. The boy was left with nothing. There was no protection from the court since they never accepted his mother, no acknowledgement from anyone who might otherwise have taken him in and raised him as his birth deserved."

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For a long moment, none of you spoke. 

Your mother had even gone quite still and forgot her tea, she took a deep breath before saying, “Well, I heard much later, that he was raised first by the church, and then handed to the army, since neither the church nor the army seemed overly concerned with whose blood ran in him, as long as he could hold a rifle steady and follow orders.”

You felt sympathy stirring in your chest, sympathy for a man you have never once met, a soldier at that.

But curiosity began taking over you, "How did he receive his land back then Papa?" you asked, "if the court never accepted him? If no one would so much as take him in?"

Your father looked away as he answered, "There were a few of us, in those years, who fought for the late Duke of Jeon's son," he said, “fewer than I would like to admit, and I acknowledge that none of us did nearly enough, myself included. But we fought for Captain Jungkook to earn his land back; that was the only thing any of us could fight for then."

"You never told me that," you said, surprised at your father’s involvement in Captain Jungkook’s life.

"I did it for my late-friend and there was very little to tell," your father said as he reached for his tea at last, though it had long since gone cold, "grief and guilt can change what a man believes. I loved my friend yet that did not stop me from voting against his son’s inheritance twice before shame or something like it, made me support it the third time."

Your father sighed again before continuing, "it is old business, ____. Best left where it lies. Whatever small part any of us played in it does not undo the rough years he spent his childhood, or the years he spent earning back what should never have been taken from him in the first place."

"So do I still have to marry him?" you asked.

You had to give it a try because no amount of sympathy could ever make you abandon the quiet and unremarkable life you have planned for yourself. And you still did not want to be married to a soldier.

Your father let out an even longer sigh then. Edmund spent the better part of his life believing he had power, yet now, in his youngest daughter's presence, he had to admit out loud how little that power could help her when it mattered most to her.

"There is not much I can do about it, my dear," your father finally answered, “it is the Queen's request and one does not decline Queen Seraphine however much either of us might wish otherwise."

"And if I were to write to Her Majesty myself," you said, still insisting and hoping there was some way out of this, "and explain in whatever terms she might find persuasive, that I have no wish to be married at all?"

Your mother let out a small laugh, "Darling, no one writes to the Queen to decline her arrangement. You ought to write to thank her for her consideration, and you can only hope that the meeting itself somehow provides proof you two are an incompatible couple.”

"And if it does not provide me one?"

"Then you are to marry a Captain and a Duke," your father answered.

You did not find this especially reassuring and said nothing further, though now at least you understood your first meeting needed to show some serious incompatibility between you and the captain.

"Well," your mother said, sensing that there was no more to the conversation, "there is nothing more to be settled this time. Best we all go about our day and let the matter rest until his letter arrives with the details of the first meeting."

Your father grunted in agreement and retreated behind his newspaper once more, though you noticed he did not turn a single page of it for the better part of twenty minutes.

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The study at the Jeon townhouse was not, by any measure, a small room.

Jungkook made certain of that when he took possession of the house. It occupied half of the western wing of the second floor, its ceilings high, its windows tall and heavily curtained that there was almost no sunlight that could shine through it. The walls were lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with volumes on military strategy, law, taxation, fantasy, even romance, and many other genres that Jungkook had read cover to cover. 

It was a room made for gatherings like this. Ten of them, the leaders of the rebellion, or revolutionaries as they preferred to call themselves, sat around a table that had once hosted formal dinners for the late duke’s political allies.

Jimin sat on the right side of Jungkook with a stack of correspondence in front of him that he has been sorting into three different piles. 

Seokjin, a senior officer of Jungkook’s regiment, claimed the chair nearest to the fire, which he always does every single meeting without fail.

Dennis, Captain of another regiment, was sitting right next to Seokjin. 

Kilian, Captain of a different regiment was also present, sitting on the left side of Dennis.

Owen, a sergeant, sat on the floor with his back against the door and is the only man in the room who genuinely enjoyed the tedious parts of the work, the numbers that made everyone else's eyes glaze. 

The remaining four were scattered around the room in various states of attention: two senior officers from Dennis's regiment, a clerk named Hana who worked in the tax office and have spent the last four months quietly copying figures that did not match what Parliament had told its people, and the last person there was Walter, who ran an underground press.

“If the northern depot’s records are right,” Hana said, running her finger down the column, “then someone is stealing almost twenty percent of the supplies before they reach the soldiers. If a hundred crates are sent, only eighty arrive. Whoever is taking the rest is making a great deal of money and seems to be getting too comfortable.”

“The Duke of Pemberton is on the committee that approves the supply orders,” Owen said from the floor, “he’s been there for six years. Eighteen months ago, he built a new house in the east district, one far too expensive for someone earning his salary.”

“So he belongs on our list as well,” Dennis said.

“We can add him as a suspect,” Killian replied, “an expensive house is suspicious, but it proves nothing. All Dukes purchase expensive houses now and then. We still need to find concrete evidence that he is on it, then we will go after him.”

“We need to find a way into that secret meeting the nobles and politicians attend,” Seokjin said frustratedly, warming his hands without looking up, “the one we still haven’t managed to infiltrate.”

None of the revolutionists have ever managed to enter the secret meeting. 

Over the years, they pieced together what little they knew from servants and commoners who overheard fragments of conversation, from intercepted letters that were carefully resealed, and from a coachman Walter had spent nearly a year befriending. 

The men who attended the secret meeting were not all nobles or members of Parliament, but every one of them was wealthy, powerful, or well connected.

These men shared one belief: the kingdom’s existing order benefited them and they would do whatever was necessary to protect it. Nothing said in the room was ever repeated outside it, none of their decisions ever appeared in official records. 

Yet they quietly paid informants, bought people’s silence, and destroyed reformers who threatened them, sometimes financially and sometimes by far worse means. As far as the revolutionists could tell, this group was behind much of the corruption they have spent years trying to expose.

“We’re not going to solve the supply theft tonight,” Jimin added, “and Walter’s letter can’t be published until we confirm the figures with at least two more sources.”

Kilian interrupted Jimin as he pointed a finger at the letter lying in the corner of Captain Jungkook’s desk, “So, are we going to discuss it or keep pretending none of us have noticed it sitting there for the past half hour?”

Every head in the room turned towards Jungkook's desk.

The letter has, in fact, been sitting exactly where Jungkook left it when he cleared the desk for the meeting, its broken seal catching the light just enough to be noticeable to anyone who happened to glance in that direction twice, which evidently everyone did at some point.

Seokjin sat forward immediately, "I was going to mention it eventually," he said, "but yes, thank you, Captain Kilian. There is, in fact, an elephant on this table that I would very much like it addressed. Why is there a letter from the Crown sitting on your desk, Captain Jungkook? One that you have very deliberately not brought up once in thirty minutes?”

"It is not relevant to tonight's business," Jungkook answered.

"Everything is relevant to tonight's business," Dennis said, "that's rather the entire premise of our weekly meeting, is it not?"

Walter, who rarely spoke first in these meetings, tilted his head towards the desk, "Palace seal," he said, "I'd know that wax anywhere, I've forged enough of it."

"You have forged the palace seal?" Owen repeated excitedly. 

"Twice. It was for a good cause both times,” Walter said, defending himself.

"Focus," Jimin said, though he was fighting a smile.

Jungkook sighed before picking the letter up off the desk and read it aloud in the same flat voice he usually uses to read out a report:

To Captain Jeon Jungkook, Duke of Jeon, Her Majesty Queen Seraphine extends her warmest regards to the Duke of Jeon, and takes considerable interest in writing to him on a matter she believes will be met, in time, with both understanding and gratitude. After the most careful and thorough consideration, Her Majesty has identified a match she believes to be well-suited to the Duke's temperament, character, and standing: Lady _____ Ashwell, youngest daughter of Edmund Ashwell II, Duke of Ashwell. Her Majesty is confident that the Duke will find in Lady Ashwell a woman of considerable intellect, strength, and steady character, qualities Her Majesty has long observed and believes will complement the Duke's own. It is Her Majesty's deepest wish that Duke and Captain Jeon consider this arrangement not as an obligation, but as an honour befitting a man of his distinguished service. The Queen has given this match her most careful consideration and has every confidence that both parties will find, in time, a connection well-suited to their respective characters, whatever unfamiliarity may exist between them at first. Her Majesty trusts the Duke will make arrangements to call upon Lady Ashwell at his earliest convenience, and requests that he communicate his intentions regarding the manner and timing of their first meeting to the Ashwell household directly. Her Majesty extends her confidence in the Duke's judgment and her gratitude for his continued service to the Crown. By Her Majesty's own hand,Queen Seraphine of the Kingdom of Leon

"OUR CAPTAIN IS GETTING MARRIED," Owen screamed out from the floor and the room erupted with noise. 

The two senior officers started pounding the table, Dennis let out something between a laugh and a whoop, and Hana was clapping her hands together though her face did not look entirely happy. 

"This," Jungkook said, dragging a hand through his hair, "is precisely why I did not want any of you to know."

"You cannot possibly have thought we would let this pass without comment," Kilian said delightfully, "you are the single most eligible bachelor this kingdom has produced in a decade and you are getting married."

“Can’t the Captain get out of this?” Hana asked. 

“Impossible, Hana. It is the Queen, hence making this arrangement a royal decree,” one of the two officers finally spoke. 

"So it's Lady Ashwell?" Jimin asked, once the noise and enthusiasm in the room had settled quietly. 

"Yes," Jungkook said.

Dennis sat forward, his arms still folded over the back of his chair, and something changed in his expression, "House Ashwell..." he said slowly, "that's… Jungkook, that's perfect!"

"I'm aware." Jungkook admitted.

"No," Dennis said, "I don't think you are. The Ashwell isn't just any house. The duke sits two seats down from Lord Pemberton in committee. His wife hosts half the gatherings the wives of every man on our list attend without fail every season. And…" Dennis tapped the table, once, twice, "...and he is exactly the sort of man who would be in that secret meeting. The meeting we've spent three years trying to find a door into."

"As I said, I am aware," Jungkook said.

"You'll be inside their territory," Dennis went on excitedly, “not as an outsider begging for an invitation. You will be there as a family. As his son-in-law. So you will need to go through this marriage no matter what."

Jungkook sighed. He had always intended to accept the arrangement. He understood the advantages, especially since no one has said that the marriage had to last forever. Once the revolutionaries achieved their goal, Jungkook could easily leave you behind.

"So you're going ahead with the marriage?" Jimin asked. 

"Yes," Jungkook answered. 

Seokjin let out a long dramatic groan and tilted his head toward the ceiling, “Ugh,” he said, “Captain J is about to marry a woman from House Ashwell, and even on their wedding night, he’ll probably be thinking about stolen supplies.”

"I will not spend a night with-" Jungkook was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

"Is it the four sisters?" Dennis asked, grinning now, any serious conversation was briefly set aside in favor of the considerably more entertaining subject of Jungkook’s arranged marriage.

"Yeah," Jimin said, “prettiest family in the city and half the regiment's been in love with one Ashwell girl or another since before I made Lieutenant. There was a whole season where three of my men wrote poetry about the second daughter and none of them would admit who was worse."

"It was Private Baek's," Owen joined in from the floor without hesitation, "he rhymed 'grace' with 'face' four separate times."

"Aren't three of them married already?" Walter asked, interrupting Owen and Jimin’s conversation.

"Two married, one engaged," Hana answered, "the one the Queen mentioned in the letter is the youngest of the lot."

Jungkook looked around the study, at the people who in ninety seconds have given him more information about his future wife than he managed to gather in the entire span of reading the letter twice. 

Jungkook sighed before he asked, "Does anyone in this room care to tell me what she actually looks like?"

The room fell silent.

Seokjin let out a sound as if he was about to deliver some bad news, “That is the one thing none of us can help you with. She rarely appears in public and her debut ball was held during the worst of the war two winters ago when half the city was still mourning, apparently only half of those invited attended. I don’t think anyone in this room has ever seen her clearly.”

"I've seen her at a distance," Walter unexpectedly answered as every head turned towards him.

Walter shrugged his shoulders, entirely unbothered by the sudden attention, "I delivered pamphlets disguised as a book order to the Ashwell house once, years back. And saw a young woman reading in the window as I left. I couldn't tell you much beyond that she looked like she would rather have been left alone."

"That is the single most useful piece of information anyone in this room has given me," Jungkook said.

"I try," Walter said, and returned his attention to his pamphlet.

"So, where will my Captain meet the woman he is about to use to bring down kingdom of Leon?" Seokjin asked, teasing his captain. 

"The park," he said.

The whole room went silent again.

"The park?" Kilian asked.

"Yes, Darlington Park. There is a fountain near the entrance, and I will be there at eleven, tomorrow morning."

"Jungkook," Kilian said, choosing his words carefully, "is it not customary, in matters such as this, to call upon the Lady's household first? To be received properly in the Duke's own home, to speak with him directly before ever being introduced to his daughter, to observe the courtesies that-"

"Nothing about this is customary anyway," Jungkook said, cutting him off and the way he said it showed that the subject was not one Jungkook would like to revisit again.

"Half the city walks through Darlington before noon," Jimin said, "Capt, you'll be recognised within the first five minutes."

"I'm aware, and I do not care," Jungkook said.

"Are you courting a scandal on purpose," Walter asked, genuinely curious now as he set his pen down, "or has that simply not occurred to you yet?"

"Scandal implies I have done something worth gossiping about," Jungkook said, "I intend to stand by a fountain and if anyone manages to make that scandalous, they are more imaginative than I've given this city credit for."

"You clearly haven't met my aunt, Captain," Seokjin said, laughing from his chair.

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"He has chosen the park," your mother announced that evening, holding a second letter that is shorter and considerably less ornamented than the first, "Darlington Park, specifically near the fountain by the east entrance."

"A park?" your father repeated, setting down his newspaper for the second time that day, "he does not intend to call upon this house first, to be received as any respectable suitor ought?"

"I suppose Captain Jungkook-"

"You may reject the park," your father said, cutting your mother off, "you may send word this very evening that he is to call here properly, as any man courting a Duke's daughter ought to conduct himself, rather than summoning her to sit upon a public bench like some servant."

"No," you said, before your mother could reply, and both of them turned to look at you with surprise, "I am fine with the park."

"You are certain?" your mother asked.

"Meeting him here would feel stranger than meeting him in a park full of strangers. In this house, I would be expected to pour tea, to smile at him, to behave as if I was pleased by the whole arrangement, all while the two of you sat nearby listening to every word I said and every word he said in return. In the park, at least, I might breathe without an audience."

Your mother thought about your justification for some time, her expression softening in a way you did not expect, "Well, If that is truly your wish, then I shall let the matter stand as he has proposed it."

"It is," you said as you reached for your book again, hoping that the conversation might now be permitted to end.

"You are certain it is not merely stubbornness speaking, darling?" your mother asked, unable to leave the matter entirely alone, “it would not be so terrible a thing to allow him to come here."

"I am sure of it, mother," you insisted. 

Your father lowered his newspaper enough to look at you, "She has a point, Cecily, let them meet on their own," he said, defending you. 

Your mother sighed and stood up to her study to reply to the Captain’s letter, leaving you and your book to whatever peace remained of the evening.

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The next morning, the sky was grey and looked as though it might rain.

You have dressed up for your first meeting with the Duke of Jeon in a pale lavender gown with short puffed sleeves, white satin gloves covering your hands, and a necklace of small silver pearls. 

Darlington Park seemed made for a morning like this. Its wide gravel paths ran beneath rows of trees and at the centre of the park stood a large fountain. Wooden benches lined the paths of the park, with many already occupied by elderly people reading newspapers and sitting beside their small dogs.

You were nearly to the gates with your lady-in-waiting, Daisy, who was two steps behind you with a basket she insisted on carrying even after you told her twice that it was unnecessary.

Then you stopped walking as a thought struck you out of nowhere.

You did not know what he looked like.

Nor, you supposed, did Captain Jungkook know what you looked like. 

The Queen's arrangement only involved a name,  title, and a letter full of warm and carefully chosen words about suitability and confidence in a match well-considered, but there was no portrait accompanying it.

Daisy, who was walking two steps behind you, was enjoying this particular errand a great deal. She noticed you stopped walking and paused as well, "Lady ____," she said, setting the basket down against her hip, "would you like me to accompany you until you have found Captain Jeon Jungkook? I could wait nearby, out of sight, should you wish it, and only come forward if-"

"No," you answered, resuming your walk before your nerves could fail you, "I should be able to find him just fine, Daisy. He is a soldier in uniform standing about in a public park. I imagine he will not be difficult to identify."

"Of course, my lady," Daisy said, although something in her tone suggested she was not entirely persuaded.

Then, after a moment spent catching up to your pace, she added, "just remember, Lady _____. He is the most handsome of all the men you shall find in this park today. You will notice him at once, my lady, whether you meant to or not."

You gave her a look, slowing your pace despite yourself, "And how would you come to know a thing like that, Daisy?"

"I accompanied Lady Margot to a ball last spring," Daisy said, visibly proud of the memory, "The Duke was in attendance that evening and every lady in the room noticed him, whether they wished to admit it or not. A fair number of the gentlemen too, though for rather different reasons, I should think."

You rarely attended balls yourself, having long ago perfected the art of coming up with excuses; a headache, a book left unfinished, a sudden stomachache; and so you have no way of confirming Daisy's account.

"I am quite certain," you said, with rather more confidence than you entirely possessed, "that I will manage to identify one man in a soldier's uniform among however many others happen to be strolling about this morning."

"Of course, my lady," Daisy said again, though she did not immediately turn to leave, "may I ask, my lady and forgive me if the question oversteps, are you very much dreading this morning?"

You thought about the question longer than you expected to, surprised that Daisy asked it at all and surprised that you found yourself having to think about the answer.

“Yes, I am,” you finally answered after a minute. 

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You followed the gravel path towards the fountain, passing a nursemaid pushing a pram and two elderly gentlemen cheerfully arguing over a chessboard balanced between their benches.

As you walked, you silently rehearsed what you might say to the man you already decided you would never ever marry, especially since you have never met him and more specifically because he is a soldier and a captain of a regiment at that.

So far, you have only prepared yourself to say:

“I will never marry you. I am told you are a captain and I confess I find very little to admire in that, considering how much war has already cost this kingdom and its people.”

You were repeating it in your head until you caught the smell of cigarette smoke.

It was faint yet still polluting the fresh morning air. So you followed the smell before you have entirely decided to, your feet moving ahead of your own consciousness.

And there, seated on a bench facing the fountain, with one arm draped along the back of the bench, was a soldier. 

You stared at him with irritation.

He was dressed in full formal uniform: a long, dark navy coat worn over a fitted black military jacket with a high collar and rows of silver buttons, while black leather gloves covered his hands.

The uniform made him impossible to be overlooked and passersby glanced at him twice before quickly looking away. Even his boots were polished to such a shine that you could not decide whether it came from military discipline or simple vanity.

He has not noticed you yet, or if he had, he gave no indication of it whatsoever.

His gaze was fixed on some point past the fountain, holding the cigarette loosely between two of his fingers as its smoke was dispersing into the grey sky.

You stood there a moment longer than you meant to before walking a few steps closer to the bench. 

"Of course," you said, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop it, "it is one of you men in uniform, polluting the air people came here to breathe."

He did not answer, and did not even so much as glance in your direction, which irritated you even more than if he simply was just rude to your face outright.

"And you are rude, too," you continued as you saw no dignified way to retreat from this interaction, "do you imagine, because of that uniform you are wearing that you are owed better manners than the rest of us? or that you are somehow above the ordinary courtesies a stranger extends to you in a public park? Arrogant prick."

That finally earned you his attention. 

He turned his head slowly and looked at you with an expression that was maddeningly and infuriatingly unbothered by the accusation, "I am not certain what I have done to you my lady, to earn such a greeting," he said, and from the tone alone, you could tell he found the whole exchange more entertaining than insulting.

"Polluting the air," you answered as you raised your hand to count his offenses off with your fingers, "being involved in the war, killing innocent people. Shall I continue, soldier? or are these sufficient enough for one morning?"

"It is a public space," he said, "and I am smoking as far from the vulnerable as this bench allows.”

“The children,” he said as he pointed a finger towards where the children are, “you will notice, are gathered at the far side of the fountain with their nursemaid.”

“And the elderly gentlemen you passed on your way here,” he continued, pointing a finger at the gentlemen, “are a good twenty paces distant.”

“And as for the war, my lady, I would gently suggest that without soldiers such as myself, you would not be standing here at all. You wouldn’t be standing in a park kept safe enough for ladies such as you to stroll through unaccompanied on a grey Tuesday morning. There would be no city around this fountain for you to walk through so freely and no roads safe enough to bring you here, were it not for men willing to stand in war,” the soldier said, smiling at you. 

"Without any soldier," you said, refusing to let him think he won the argument, "there would be no war to begin with."

The soldier let out a laugh, "Of course," he said, rising to his feet as he brushed some cigarette ash from his sleeve, "a rich and noble lady such as yourself would not know anything of it, I imagine. You live in a bubble, my lady, and I confess I do not begrudge you the comfort of it but I would ask you kindly not to lecture men who understood war and what it actually means after living it.”

"I know enough to know that soldiers are a sore in society, glorified for deeds that should be shamed rather than celebrated,” you argued back, lifting your chin high, entirely unwilling to be the one to concede ground first.

He looked at you a moment longer before he stubbed the cigarette out against the arm of the bench, "What a waste of time," he said mostly to himself, and turned to walk away without so much as a farewell.

"Indeed," you said to his back, watching him take a few steps before you realised you might actually need his help, "Wait, soldier! Do you know which one of the soldiers in this park is Captain Jungkook? I do not recognise which of the soldiers he could be."

The moment he heard you, the soldier stopped walking.

Then he turned around slowly, and the expression on his face changed. It was as if he couldn’t believe what he just experienced. 

You might have been rude to him, but at least you were honest. You were protecting the air quality of the park from the dreadful and unhealthy smoke from his cigarettes. But you also understood that you deserved the look on his face that silently reminded you of everything you just said to him as you asked for help after insulting him. 

"Ah,” the soldier before you chuckled.

“Captain Jeon Jungkook, as it happens,” the soldier tilted his head ever so slightly, “is standing right in front of you.”

You stared at Jungkook as he stared back at you, and for a moment neither of you seemed inclined to be the first to acknowledge what had just occurred.

For one full second, you could not even breathe.

Was this really him? You thought to yourself. Was he really the Captain the Queen had written about with such warmth?

You spent the walk here rehearsing arguments for the Captain who turned out to have an infuriatingly composed face, watching you with the patience of a man waiting to see what you would do with the information he just presented to you.

And beneath all of it, there was a small and unwelcome thought. One entirely unrelated to anything you intended to feel this morning, the traitorous thought that Daisy was not wrong. You were so focused on his cigarettes that you completely overlooked the face attached to them.

In this moment, you admitted that you were the dumb one to ignore his facial features that definitely stood out.

You hated the thought that came to your mind. You hated that your mind agreed the Captain was handsome. And you despised it even more that you had to consciously force yourself to stop thinking that way. 

Jungkook thought you would greet him the way every other woman would introduce themselves to him.

Jungkook did not expect to be called an arrogant prick within the first thirty seconds of meeting the woman he was supposed to marry. Yet there was something in that unscripted introduction that had already crept itself into a point of interest he had no intention of examining further. 

Jungkook had to remind himself that you were just another piece on a board. It was only inconvenient and irritating that the piece had loud opinions. 

"You are Captain Jungkook," you repeated, mostly to hear how absurd it sounded out loud.

"I am," Jungkook confirmed.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Are you calling me a liar, Lady ______?" Jungkook asked as he smirked.

"You are truly Captain Jungkook?" You asked as your eyes scanned his face and body, "I would have expected a more... elegant man. Then again, you are a soldier."

"You wound me," Jungkook said, as he mockingly put a hand over his heart.

"I doubt that very much," you said, rolling your eyes.

“No,” Jungkook agreed, “I suppose words alone would not be enough. Still, I admire the effort.”

Jungkook walked towards you with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked as if your insult had barely affected him.

“What exactly were you expecting, my lady?” he asked, “I admit, I am curious. What does a duke’s daughter imagine when she thinks of a captain?”

"Someone who does not smoke in public parks," you shot back.

“That is a low standard. I could easily meet it by tomorrow,” Jungkook said.

“Someone..” you continued, “who stops others from embarrassing themselves, even if he finds it amusing.”

“Ah, that standard I have no intention of meeting. It was, indeed, very amusing,” Jungkook paused before giving you a bow, “allow me to introduce myself properly, since we seem to have done everything else in the wrong order,” he chuckled.

“Her Majesty has decided that we are exceptionally well suited to one another. I admit, after the last five minutes, I am struggling to understand why, but I am told the Queen is rarely wrong,” Jungkook said with an amused look that made you want to wipe that smug smile off his face.

He then inclined his head to introduce himself, “Captain Jeon Jungkook, the Duke of Jeon.”

You did not curtsy.

Your ears were still warm from your outburst, and you doubted you could manage such a gesture, “Lady ______ Ashwell,” you said flatly.

“Walk with me, Lady Ashwell.”

“I will not agree to walk anywhere with you,” you answered.

“No,” he agreed, “I know you do not want to, and neither do I. But I suspect you will anyway. Your lady-in-waiting is watching us very closely from the gate, and if you turn around and leave after only four minutes, she will report it to your mother by supper and your mother will then tell the Queen, and neither of us wants to receive that letter.”

He offered you his arm, “Ten minutes, my lady. One walk around the fountain and I promise I will not smoke.”

You looked at his arm and then looked past him towards the gate. Daisy stood exactly where he said, watching the two of you without even trying to hide it.

You sighed before finally accepting his offer, “Ten minutes,” you said, ignoring the arm he offered you, but began walking beside him anyway, “not a moment longer.”

“Understood,” Jungkook nodded. 

A bitter feeling rose in your chest at the thought of the two of them together. Ha-Yun had only talked to you an hour before about wanting to ask him out and in the time you were weighing your decision, she had already made her move. She didn't even know you liked him. She even told you about it then why were you bitter? Because she actually did something about her feelings? But it wasn't wrong of her to do that. She liked him and now she was making it clear. She wasn't you. She didn't wait for the right moment, she did not calculate all the risks involved, she did not think if he was going to reject her, instead she went for it. You hated her spontaneity but perhaps that's why she had been in and out of love while you have been stuck on Jin for longer than you've realized.

And so you realize that you've missed your chance, yet again.

Hoseok was right. While you waited for the correct moment, you've already lost him to somebody else. Jin wasn't going to wait for you. Time was not going to wait for you. This is what you have always done, waited and waited and you'd wait longer until someone else would come in and take him away.

Whatever courage you had momentarily found after talking to Hoseok had now disappeared. Perhaps this is how it'll always be. Carrying the weight of your feelings, alone.

Pained you try to leave the party silently before it even ends without telling Jin, however, as if you were connected through a magnetic pull, he found you, just as you were waiting for your cab to arrive.

“Do you have teleportation skills or what? It's really hard to find you today.” He asked, running out of breath. It seemed he had run here.

You shook your head, replacing your bitter emotions with nonchalant expressions. Right now you wished you possessed those skills so you could escape him. 

“Looked everywhere for you inside.” He huffed. 

“Why? Did you want something? I was just bidding my parents off.” You replied.

Jin looked at you quizzically for a second, “is something wrong?” 

You shook your head, your face expressionless. 

“Are you feeling unwell?” He asked again, concern lacing his voice. He really couldn’t figure what could have happened in the span of an hour that you were desperate to leave without even telling him. Why didn't you tell him you were leaving? The last time he had seen you, you were laughing on the balcony with Hoseok but right now you seemed far from the person he had watched from a distance on the balcony. His concern was justified. 

You still shook your head, denying. 

“Did someone say something to you?” He asked, stepping closer to you. His concern only bothered you more because you knew his concern came from a place of friendship.

“I’m really fine. I’m just cold waiting for my cab." 

The moment those slipped past your mouth, he had taken off his jacket and hung it across your shoulder gently even though his expressions seemed irritated, mumbling something about waiting outside in the cold. You weren’t surprised at his gesture, he had done that too many times for you to count without realising its effect on you.

Before you knew it he was snatching your phone away from your hand and cancelling your ride. 

“Jin, what are you doing? Do you even know how long it took me to get a cab?” Irritation and frustration were clear in your voice but in your attempts to take your phone back, you stumbled over your foot and collapsed into Jin who instantly held you, his hand supporting your back instantly while the other grabbed your waist. 

You stay in that position for a moment, staring at him, your heart beating loudly at his gaze, unable to look away from him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together while his hands remained on your body. 

Clearing your throat, you pulled away from his grasp after a moment and took your phone away from him, “I’m-okay, just tired. Try standing in heels for 3 hours and you’ll know.” 

“Then give them to me.” He was joking but you didn’t know whether to be irritated or laugh at him but it dissolved some of your composure which he was quick to notice and smiled at his victory. 

“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he didn't even wait for you to answer, instead he just grabbed you and headed towards his car. You had no other option but to comply with his wishes. As you always have.

You remained quiet in the car, not having the heart to look at Jin, not having the heart to satisfy your curiosity if Ha-Yun really had asked him out but it didn’t mean he didn’t look at you. He couldn’t help but be concerned for you. To him you seemed distant

“Y/n, are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to stop at the pharmacy?” He asked. All his attention lingered on you. 

You shook your head, "I'm okay."

"Y/n, do you want me to punch someone? Should I turn around?" He was joking obviously and it worked, a little at least.

You turned to him and he finally smiled as if he was happy that he had won your attention.

“Can I ask you something?” You finally asked, your hands fumbling in your lap.

“Whatever you want.” At this point he was willing to answer even the absurdest question as long as it would mean you’d look at him, that you’d talk to him. 

“Have you ever thought about what we would be if we weren’t best friends?” This time you turned your head to look at him. 

Jin's attention faltered from the road and spared a glance at you, "Why wouldn't we be friends?"  

"You think we'll always be best friends? Even if we had met some other way. Some other time, some other place?"

You watched him smile and he reached your hand over your lap, "any other time, any other day, any other universe, I will always choose you as my best friend."

You smiled sadly as you stared at your hands in your lap. Best friends. That's what you'll be.

So much for hoping for more.

"I saw you dancing. It looked like you had fun." That's all you said before you leaned against the window and closed your eyes. Even if Jin had a reply, you didn't hear it. You don't think you wanted to.

You don’t realize when you slept until Jin softly tapped you awake and you noticed you have reached your place.

The car felt much warmer than it had been when you first sat in. It had been him. You apologized for falling asleep and reached the door but he stopped you. 

“Y/n, just wait.” 

You watched carefully as he leaned behind your seat and took out a bag. You waited as he opened the bag to reveal slippers inside it.

"Wear these."

You stared at him for a second longer as he leaned forward and kept the slippers adjacent to your feet.

You realized at that moment why you loved him. It wasn't because of familiarity. It was because he was who he is. He would do the bare minimum but your heart would flutter because nobody had ever done it for you so you would think it special but that's just who he was. Just like now. The way he offered you his jacket without thinking, how he had turned up the heater in the car so you slept comfortably, that he had carried spare slippers and offered it to you. You loved him for the things he didn't even pay attention to, he did those things thoughtlessly but to someone who had been hopelessly in love with him for years on end, it anchored your feelings to permanence.

You wanted to ask if he did that for every one but you knew you wouldn't be able to appetize the answer so you don't. Not after you had seen him with Ha-Yun. Even if he did it for everyone, just for tonight you could feel special but tomorrow you'll remind yourself again that it wasn't special. It's just him being himself.

Jin's expressions were unreadable as you smiled at him and said, "Always know how to make a girl feel special."

You took off your heels and slipped into comfortable slippers he gave you.

“Are you really that tired or is it something else?” He asked. 

“I really am that tired,” mentally but you don’t tell him that. 

“Do you want me to cook you something?” He asked, worried. 

You shook your head with a pursed smile, “Just need some sleep, that’s it. You should go home.” 

He couldn’t ask any further. If there was one thing he knew you did was shut off every time something would happen and all he could do was wait for the time when you’d be able to come and talk about it. Over the years he had seen that multiple times, there were even patterns but he was oblivious of it. 

He doesn't ask anymore, instead he just watched you walk away from the car, towards your building. Alone in the car he sighed, and then he took out his phone and texted you.

[12:47 am]

Seokjin: Whatever it is, I hope you're okay. I'm here for you.

You don't see Jin for a while. At first it was unintentional, it really had been a busy month with auditing but then it had become intentional.

You were avoiding Jin, to protect your own heart. To erase everything Hoseok had given you hope for and go back to your normal life. To pretend you weren't in love with your best friend because that was the only thing you knew how to do. All because you had received pictures from Hoseok when you were working at the office on the weekend. It was a picture of all three, Jin, Ha-Yun and Hoseok on an amusement park ride and attached to it was a picture of just Jin and Ha-Yun eating ice cream sitting together. Hoseok had sent a "?" to ask you what was going on and you will not deny, you zoomed in on the picture to see both of them eating chocolate ice cream but all you had sent back was a thumbs up and told him to have fun together.

Jin had of course asked you to accompany them on the plan but he didn't force you and you really wanted to focus on something else for a while so you had denied. And you were glad you did.

Then a couple of days later you received another dinner picture then another week later you received another picture. But in all honesty you were able to switch to your normal life, one that wasn't built around Jin even though you still kept thinking of him. You were finally able to suppress your feelings for him. You were willing to wait on the side line and maybe someday you'll be able to move on, let go of any hope you never admitted you carried.

But just how you can't push the door close when there's pressure from the other end, you too came crashing down in a single night on Jin's birthday.

You were meeting him after a long time and momentarily you forgot you had created a distance between you two. All your suppressed feelings came to the surface. One look at him and you forgot that you had been in pain because of him, you forgot that all these weeks you avoided him so you could learn how to dismiss all your hopes. You forgot you had practiced the art of loving in silence.

Tonight your love was loud, shattering, even bitter. You had let yourself melt in the hug when you wished him and he told you that it had been so long since he last saw you that he was forgetting your face, that he missed you, and actually said the words. And that was perhaps the first mistake. You shouldn't have forgotten but you did. You shouldn't have let yourself get carried away.

You laughed with him, drank with him, talked with him, even danced with him. For the first time in a while you truly felt that it was just about the two of you. It truly felt easier to be around him, to be with him. For the first time in a while you didn't feel the crushing weight of missing your chances with him.

But all it took was one glance at Ha-Yun and Jin talking and laughing in the kitchen and you were instantly reminded of the months of rebuilding you had done. All the walls you had built up.

Right. You were always the second option.

Your eyes lingered on their figures in the kitchen long enough for Hoseok and even his friend to notice it and like a good friend Hoseok did the only thing he knew, distract you.

"Y/n, you wanna play?" Hoseok asked, blocking your vision. You turned to the video game his friends had put on and with a forced smile you agreed. It was going to be your escape mechanism.

You spent a good part of the night gaming with other boys, drinking, eating that you barely register how many drinks you had drunk. In trying to drown Jin and Ha-Yun's voices, you had been louder, your laugh had been louder, your drinks had been more and inevitably it took a toll on you late at night when you stumbled on your way to the washroom.

You didn't even know Jin had followed you into the bedroom when you went to the washroom. You stayed there for a long time, collecting yourself, washing your face, just staring at yourself in the mirror for the absurdity of tonight. You couldn't even recognise the person in the mirror but you promised yourself that if this was becoming unbearable you'll take space from Jin until you were better.

You had been there long enough and Jin grew worried by every passing second. After you were in there for over 15 minutes, he decided to knock and ask if you were fine.

"Y/n, are you alright in there? It's been a long time."

Maybe you didn't heard him so he knocked again. But after the third attempt, you hear the knock and opened the door.

And there he was, his hair dishevelled, hands in the air as if he was about to knock again, his eyes wide that showed just how worried he was.

You smiled at him and nodded, "I'm okay. Just needed some time. You know I'm not a social person."

He wasn't convinced though. He grabbed your hand and made you sit on the bed as he kneeled in front of you.

"I'm okay, really-"

"Do you know how many drinks you had?" He asked, finding the bottle of water on his nightstand and opened it for you.

You pretentiously thought for a moment but it made him more worried so you just chuckled and told him the truth, "maybe 5 or 6? Definitely not more than 6."

He shook his hands in front of you in a fast wave, "how many fingers are these?"

You rolled your eyes, "three. Are you done?"

He grew relieved and offered you water.

"had me worried there for a second when you stumbled in here. Thought you were throwing up." He said watching you drink the water.

You smiled at him, "what would you have done had I not opened the door?"

"knocked it down." There wasn't even a hint of quip in his voice. It sounded like he really would have.

You patted his shoulder and snickered, "and made me pay for the damage?"

He shook his head trying to stifle his laugh.

You follow his face, your face adorned with a smile. You poked his face as he tried to keep a serious demeanor.

"Come on, I'm okay. You've seen worse."

He took your hand that was poking his face and looked up at you.

"I can't be sure, you're old now."

You gasped loudly, making him laugh. You mockingly touched your heart.

"I'm never recovering from that statement."

He was still laughing but he took a seat next to you.

"There's definitely a lot of truth to it."

You rolled your eyes at him, "says the man whose birthday just turned him a year older."

"Please, I'm young at heart." The statement made you laugh and you momentarily lean into Jin, one he doesn't push away instead you think he leaned into you.

Once you both stop laughing, you stared at both of your feet lying adjacent to each other. He was wearing pineapple socks you had given him last year while he was still in the military. You smiled at the memory.

"Do you have a foot fetish?" He asked as he noticed your line of sight.

You made a disgusted face at him, "do you ever use your brain before speaking?"

His lower puckered out that you couldn't bring yourself to look away from, then smiling he shook his head, "if I have to use my brain when I'm with you then why are we friends?"

And there it hit you again. Friends.

You couldn't help but scoff inwardly at the word. Friends weren't supposed to think about kissing while looking at their lips.

He nudged you when you didn't say anything.

"What's wrong?"

You let out a breath and divert the question, "Are you and Ha-Yun going out?"

The question shocked him to say the least. He was taken aback at the sudden inquiry, his face turning into a frown.

"Who told you that?"

You shrugged, "saw you in the kitchen. You both seemed cozy."

Jin looked at you as if he couldn't believe whatever you said, disgusted even but he tried not to show it.

He shook his head, "told you I wanted to enjoy my single life while I still could."

You closed your eyes, chuckling in disbelief, "Right."

"Why? You don't believe me?" He asked.

You shook your head, "that's not it."

"Then what?"

"Someone like you can't be single for long."

"and why is that?" He seemed curious.

You turned your gaze at him, looking in his eyes.

"Because you're every girl's dream."

He really couldn't help but laugh in utter disbelief.

"I'm being honest. If I screamed from the top of the building and asked who wanted to date you, an entire line would pull up."

He had an amused reaction, his eyebrows shooting up, "you really think?"

You nodded.

"Well then I'm glad you're not in that line." He said.

You keep staring at him at the complete oblivion of your feelings for him. Not once had Jin assumed you could ever feel for him the way you do. How quick he had always been to dismiss the idea of anything more.

So you keep staring wondering if he'd really ever figure it out on his own if you never told him.

"What?"

But you don't know if he would have because you told him.

"You are my dream. You've always been my dream, Jin."

An unattainable dream.

His breath physically stops short, his face suddenly horrified, all the blood rushes away from his face, turning him paler than he was.

"Y/n-"

"I love you."

You didn't even know tears had prickled in your eyes until you felt a drop on your cheek. And then you realize that he wasn't looking blurry because of the alcohol but because there were tears in your eyes.

Tears because after all these years you had finally confessed what you felt and you can't even describe the weight that was lifted off your heart.

He knew. He finally knew.

And as you had always expected, he doesn't say anything to you. His face goes blank. In every scenario you had ever thought you've always reached a conclusive end where the sentence always starts with 'But I don't..' and right now you weren't eager to know what he could have said instead you waited to see how long it would take for him to tell you that he didn't feel the same and break your heart.

You didn't wait for reciprocation, you never have, instead you waited for a heart break. The truth you have always known.

And then he finally spoke,

"Y/n- I don't.." and he paused.

You don't know if it was because he was finding the right words or he was trying to soften the blow but it was enough for you to know that the more you stayed here with him, the more your chest constricted, the more your throat went dry and the more your heart physically ached in ways you didn't even know was possible.

Taking your sign, you stood up.

"I'll leave."

It was finally done. You've ripped your years-long band aid off. You had told him how you felt. He didn't feel the same way and now, finally you can move on. Or try to.

"What?" Confusion was clear on his face.

"I'll just leave." You sniff, collecting yourself together, standing up.

"Y/n, you're drunk." He sighed and stood with you.

"And how does that make any difference?" It really didn't. If anything you were glad alcohol gave you the courage to confess.

"At least let me drop you off."

You shook your head. You were afraid that if you stayed a second more you'd crash into the floor with pain, with this unimaginable pain you could never explain to him.

"I need to be alone."

"Y/n, stay-"

You shook your head and took your leave.

You didn't even make it home properly before tears streamed down your face. You don't even close the door properly before you slip against it and over the floor clutching your chest at the pain you felt. All these years of loving him and you had never felt the insurmountable pain that you felt now because this was finally real. All your imagination had failed you, reality was more bitter than even the worst expectations. Nothing had hurt the way this did, not even when he had cried in your arms for somebody else but the weight of his silence, the weight of his rejection had been too much.

And nobody prepares you for the pain you feel when someone you love doesn't feel the same way about you.

Like every other person you had a naive hope that just maybe, just maybe he would have taken you in his arms and told you that he loved you too but he didn't. Jin didn't. Instead what you were met with were the exact words you had always feared. All your hope finally crumbled like glass, you were crumbling in pieces and you didn't even know what to do.. there was no best friend to run to.

That night you didn't only lose the one person you loved but you also lost the only person who was your home. You've lost your best friend and it left a bigger hole in your chest.

You don't know what you hated more as you cried a river until the morning.

Telling the truth to Hoseok came much, much later but he was there for you then.

For days you cried, sometimes on your own, on your way back from work, while watching TV. And there were times when you just felt the pain but no tears came.

Hoseok then held you when you felt numb and as you cried until you had no tears left but he didn't know how to make it any better just like you didn't. He didn't even know what to tell you because he couldn't ask you to move on from the person you've been in love with for years and you don't ask him to tell you anything, you only asked him to stay with you when you missed Jin.

There was however one thing he said that you tried not to pay attention to but you also knew one day you'll have to face the music.

"You need to talk to him. Not right now but whenever you are in a better place. Tell him that you need space instead of icing him out."

By that he meant to ask you to not throw two decades of friendship to waste. You knew even if you iced him out today, there was going to be a day when you'd have to face him whether you liked it or not.

You just didn't expect that day to come this soon. 2 weeks of no contact was broken at a family lunch. You had tried getting out of it, refused the invite too many times but your mother threatened to show up at your place if you didn't show up. You knew you'd have to face Jin and there was nothing that prepared you for that. At last you decided, you'd leave earlier so you wouldn't have to stay for the whole thing.

You were finishing setting up the table when Jin arrived. Your eyes averted to him at the door and he couldn't take his eyes away from you either but you were the first one to break the staring contest. You don't greet him, you weren't there yet but there was a part of you that hated not being able to talk to him. You missed him dearly but this was for your own sake.

You didn't speak to each other during lunch at all even as you sat across from each other, even when you both reached for the same thing, even when he coughed choking on a spring onion. It was like two strangers at a table and it was so foreign because you've never known these faces of each other.

"Why are you two so quiet today? Did something happen? Y/n, did you beat him up?" Your father asked.

You gasped, "Appa¹."

Jin intervened, shaking his head, "I'm just stressed. Going back to work has been hectic..."

Jin took the whole conversation to himself, he kept talking about his return to work and you knew he did it to divert attention from the elephant in the room. He was trying to take the steam off you so nobody questioned you anymore and you felt a swell of pain in your chest at that. He was being considerate but you loved it and hated it the same. You didn't want him to be honest but you didn't need him to be your knight in shining armour.

Unfortunately, you weren't able to leave earlier. You should have known. By the time you decided to leave it was past 8 pm and you were outside debating whether you should take a cab or not when both of your families came out to bid you goodbyes.

"Y/n, did you bring your car?" Mrs. Kim asked. You politely shook your head.

"In repair. It broke down a few days ago."

"Perfect then, Jinie will drop you," she said excitedly. You both share a look with each other but you don't say anything.

Jin's father patted his back loud enough to hear a smack, "he was going to drop her anyway, isn't it?"

You hesitated telling them that you'd take a cab or take a subway but it would only result in more suspicion and Jin sensed that too. Better at you than tackling difficult situations he spoke up.

"I'll drop her off, don't worry. I'll just bring my car around." He said. You don't even get a chance to say anything before he is off to bring the car.

You stayed there with boxes full of food both the mother's packed for both you and him, not even packing it in separate boxes. They said you could split it on your own. If only they knew that you haven't even spoken to each other in 2 weeks.

Just in time he brought his car and opened the door for you. He took the boxes from your hands and kept them in the backseat before getting in the driver seat.

As soon as you both were far enough from the house you finally spoke up, "Drop me off at the nearest train station. I'll go from there. You can take the food with you."

"So, you can speak." He doesn't hide his sarcasm at all. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he was fuming. You saw his knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel tighter. His jaw clenched but you didn't say anything about it. You didn't know you could have said that would make this situation any better.

"Jin, we just crossed the station." You said as soon as the train station went past you.

"I know." He replied. His attention never turned away from the road.

"Drop me off right there, I'll walk till the sta-"

"If you don't want to talk to me, don't, but I'm dropping you off." His anger was visible in his voice.

"Jin, stop the car-"

It only took one look from him before you shut up.

"If you want to sleep you can. I won't say anything."

Defeated, you don't intervene further. You knew he would never let you go alone as long as you were with him. That's not who he was.

And for the first time silence felt the heaviest. You couldn't help but constantly think about how much you missed him. If you hadn't opened your mouth on his birthday right about now he would be making you laugh with some dad joke. If you hadn't told him how you felt, he would be talking non stop and you'd be mesmerized to see him talk. If you hadn't told him how you felt, you wouldn't be missing him when he was right next to you.

He only spoke to you when you reached your apartment and he helped you carry boxes of food upstairs.

"You can keep these boxes." But as he didn't hear you in the car, this time you don't.

You opened the door to your apartment and immediately entered the kitchen, placing boxes on the counter.

"I'll leave-"

"I'll transfer these into other boxes so you can take them." You tell him already searching for the boxes.

"I said I don't need th-"

"Would this be enough?" You showed him the boxes. Sighing he nodded.

He watched you as you transferred the food in other boxes in silence. There were so many things he wanted to say, things you wanted to tell him but neither of you spoke up. Tension thick enough that it could not be cut with a knife either.

And after you were done you handed him the boxes, "You don't have to return these."

He nodded.

"And, don't save me the next time our parents say something. You can tell them the truth."

Whatever composure Jin was carrying with him collapsed when you said it.

He scoffed, dropping the boxes back on the counter, "told them the truth? What truth are you talking about Y/n? That I've been texting you for the last two weeks and you haven't returned a single call, a single message, that you were icing me out?"

You nodded, "Yeah, you can tell them that."

He let out a frustrated scoff, his hands running through his hair.

"Aren't you being too much? I only ever asked you if we could talk."

Your face clenched and your voice rose as equal as his, "and talk about what exactly?"

"Talk about us, Y/n, Us!" His voice grew even louder. You've rarely seen him as angry as he was right now.

"What 'us' Jin? There is no us! I told you how I felt-"

"and then you stormed away. You couldn't even own up to your confession."

It hurt you, it really hurt you the way he spoke to you. No matter what had happened between the two of you, he had never used that tone with you before and you couldn't tolerate his anger. He didn't deserve to be angry. You did.

"How else do I own up to my confession? Should I tell you again? Should I lay out to you, text you, scream from the top of the building, or tell everyone in passing that I love Jin and embarrass myself more if this wasn't enough."

He turned away from you, his chest heaving and suddenly as if he couldn't take it anymore he turned around and came closer to you, "For starters you shouldn't have told me that when you were drunk."

You bit the inside of your cheek and stepped forward so you were facing him, standing tall against him, your tears threatened to spill your eyes but you stood firm, "Don't tell me anything about drunken confessions. At least I didn't drunkenly kiss you and pretended it never happened."

Struck with a blow his face turned pale, "You-"

"I remember that kiss. The one you lied about. It was so easy for you to lie about it but I can't lie about it. I wouldn't. I'm not you. If you want to pretend my confession never happened for you, go ahead but I wouldn't turn away from my confessions like you did." You didn't know where all the bitterness came from but letting out the truth felt much free.

"Why didn't you ever say anything about it?" His voice, though still angry, was suddenly much calmer.

"about what?"

"About the kiss? Why did you pretend it never happened?" He closed his eyes for a second letting out a long breath. And although his voice was calm, his demeanor wasn't.

"Because-" you tried to say something, but nothing came out.

"Because what?" He asked again.

"Because I didn't know how to. You were in love with someone else and you were in pain because of some other girl. I couldn't stand there and accept that we kissed and ask if it only mattered to me."

Your heart shattered as you saw his eyes well up with tears. He was angry for whatever reason and you could understand that but you couldn't understand why this would make him cry.

"Your problem is that you never confronted me. That's why you stormed out that night. That's why you can't own up to your confession."

It pissed you off to no end. You didn't want to hate yourself for loving him, you didn't want to hate yourself for kissing him, you didn't want to hate yourself for confessing to him because you already did but you never imagined, you never wanted him to use your confession as a weapon against you. You hated it and you hated him right for the way he was making you feel for loving him, for the way you told him how you felt.

"Get out." You said and then again, louder this time.

"I said get out."

Baffled, he stood there for a moment but when you didn't say anything again he turned around and left.

That night, you watched him walk away from your door. He didn't turn around, not even once but you watched him stay in his car for a long time before he drove away. And only then you cried. Only then you let yourself feel the pain of his words, only then do you hate yourself for hurting him the way you did, only then do you hate him for saying the truth.

He was right. You didn't own up to your confession. You couldn't. Why? Because you didn't want to hear the words "But I don't feel the same way." You loved him but you wanted to protect yourself from the earth shattering pain of actually hearing a rejection and you didn't think it was wrong. It was the only thing you could do for yourself and somehow Jin had made you hate yourself for it.

All that time you cried, in pain, in anger, it never occurred to you that he was angry too, and that you never asked why he was so mad at you when all you did was tell how you felt.

In all the fights you've had with Jin this was by far the longest, and the most hurtful but in a weird way it made it easier for you to deal with the outcome of your confession. The way you two had fought had left you angry with each other and you assumed he was pissed at you too because in the last 2 weeks he didn't reach out even once. Maybe it was all for the better, maybe you needed this to feel better because since that night you haven't cried even once, you felt sad but didn't cry.

And Hoseok said it was an improvement. After having seen you cry for and feel numb over Jin, he said the fight brought back some colour in you and you didn't know whether to laugh at that or agree to it. And so he called for a celebration in the most unusual way.

Clubbing.

You refused at first, arguing that you were more of a homebody and that clubbing wasn't your thing but in his words it was the best way to celebrate. And you felt bad for calling and crying to him so often that you decided you could do this for him. If something happens, you'll leave the place soon.

So, there you were dressed up in the same black dress you wore at Hoseok's parents anniversary because it fit the occasion really well and it was also the only black dress you had (Hoseok had given you a theme for whatever reason).

You entered the club alone because Hoseok said he was stuck in traffic. He told you to enjoy yourself for a while before he arrived so you let yourself be a little free. After weeks of wrenching pain, you allowed yourself a little freedom.

You sat at the bar and ordered drinks for the two of you and Hoseok arrived just a bit after you had ordered and he immediately took you to the dance floor without even greeting you.

In his words it was dumb not to dance at a club, so with a drink in your hand you danced uncomfortably at first but then you gradually remember your moves from your early twenties when clubbing was a frequent thing. You let yourself get mixed up in the electrifying air of the club. Bodies dancing, people screaming, drinks. You let yourself loose, you let yourself have fun, you let yourself forget everything that has happened with Jin in a while. At that moment everything could wait. You decided you deserved this.

But as if the universe had other plans, your eyes fell upon a man who looked too familiar to be a stranger. It was an uncanny similarity to the broad shoulders you've been used to seeing. You don't even realise when Hoseok was replaced by some other man behind you when the familiar man in front of you turned and it revealed to be Jin.

You almost gasped, you think you did but you're unsure as you kept watching Jin who had found you just as immediately as you had. He looked devilishly handsome and for some moments you don't remember the pain, the fight, all you remember is your love for him. All you see is your best friend you've been in love with for as long as you can remember. Your best friend who has always looked good in leather, your friend who looked unfairly hot, your friend tall enough to tower you, and every thought a friend shouldn't have went through your head.

You keep staring at him, watching his features twitch, especially the way his jaw clenched and the way he raised an eyebrow at you. It only occurred to you that he was real when you felt a hand on your back and you immediately realized that it couldn't have been Hoseok. He'd never touch you the way this man did and you visibly flinched. But before you could even react, turn around and shout at whoever it was, Jin had taken the matters in his own hands and had dragged you to him and for once you were glad that he did. A relief ran through you at the familiar figure but it doesn't take long before Jin is taking you out of the club and to his car.

"Not a word." He said before you could even say anything. You followed his lead as he opened the door to his car and you sat down quietly. It doesn't occur to you at all that you left Hoseok alone, inside.

All your focus was on the way Jin clutched at the steering and was speeding at an unusual speed. He was mad? That was your best guess but truth be told now that you were out of the club, you felt more relaxed. You were glad you had found Jin there even though you haven't spoken to him in days.

For the first time in a while Jin pulled up at his place.

"I thought-"

"Let's go upstairs and talk." That's all he said until you reached his apartment.

You entered his place to a citrus smell that you immediately identified because of the tangerines on the kitchen top.

"I'll do a cab and-"

"I thought you liked me?" He said, taking off his jacket hastily and tossing it aside.

"What?" You frowned.

"I thought you liked me but there you were at the club dancing with a random guy." His jaw was clenched.

This was frustrating. Whatever was going on between the two of you, it was irritating you.

"Why do you care?" You asked, taking off your coat as well. His place was unusually warm.

"I care if you dance with a random man." He said towering you and you realized then that you hadn't even made it into the living room. You were fighting again, at his doorstep.

"Exactly. Why do you care if I was dancing with a random man? It's not like you like me."

You watch him close his eyes and release a frustrated sigh.

"Why do you always have to have the last word? Why do you always have to assume everything? Why can't you just- for just one fucking time stop assuming you know everything about me!"

You scoffed with a sarcastic laugh and looked away from him for just a second then looked up back at him.

"You think I don't. I know you better than you know yourself."

He stepped even closer, making you take a step back, and another step and another.

"No, Y/n, you don't. You always assume everything. You always assume what someone is going to say to you. You always assume you know better. You always assume that whatever you think is right without caring if it's true or not."

Your face clenched again. You weren't going to stand there and take more of Jin's yelling.

"I can't fight with you again, I'm leaving." You said taking your coat and turning around to open the door but Jin's words stopped you dead in your tracks.

"You always assumed I never felt the same about you."

And for the first time today his voice had gone softer.

You turn too hastily to see him wearing a sad expression.

"You- you- what did you just say?"

Jin gave a small smile and took your coat away from your hand, dropping it without looking.

"Had you not stormed out that night, you would have heard the end of my sentences. You stormed out, then you ghosted me, then you fought with me. You always assumed that I was going to turn you down but you never asked me if I felt the same or not. You never asked what I felt."

All your emotions crash into you. Tears gather in your eyes and you feel yourself pulled towards him, "You like me?"

He chuckled and took your hand bringing you closer to him.

"Why didn't you let me say anything? Why don't you?"

You bit your lip, he was teasing you, testing you but you were too close to crying your eyes out.

"Jin- just- do you really like me?"

Knowing you well enough and seeing you frustrated, he cupped your face, "I do. Hell, I love you but you didn't let me say it. You rushed out before I could tell you that. Had you not assumed my response, you would have heard this sentence, Y/n, I don't think we should talk about this right now but tell me this tomorrow morning and I'll tell you that I love you too."

"That I love you too." He repeated and you felt a tear drop down your face that he's quick to wipe it away.

And then you let yourself weep against his chest as a huge weight was taken away from your chest. You were clutching at his chest because you couldn't believe that all along, all this time he had loved you too but your stupid self had pushed him away so that he couldn't even tell you that he loved you too.

Your unrequited love was no longer one sided.

"Tell me again." You said hugging closer to his body.

You feel his chest vibrate in a soft laugh and he said it again, caressing your hair, "I love you Y/n."

And then you look up and tell him again, this time without fearing he'll run away.

"I love you Jin, I've loved you for far too long."

His eyes poured into yours and he couldn't believe the words you have said. He really couldn't but this time instead of running away you leaned forward and kissed him.

You finally kiss him. Those soft pillowy lips you had kissed only once in a drunken state when you didn't even know what you felt but this time it was real, this was better, much better than anything you've ever experienced and more than you, he couldn't believe this was real. His hands slid into your hair and behind your neck as he intensified the kiss. You were crying but the more the kiss intensified the more you forgot to cry, the more you let yourself melt into the kiss.

And you lose it when without a warning his tongue grazes across your lips making you moan allowing him to slip his tongue past your lips.

Your hands fumbled at the collar of his shirt and before you could decide what to do with it, you pulled him closer, downwards to your height that he fumbled and you both crashed into the wall behind you making you break away from the kiss with a gasp.

You feel him smile against your lips but neither of you open your eyes.

"I can't believe I finally get to kiss you." He breathed.

You arched into him and said, "Why'd you stop?"

Hypnotized by you, he moaned and kissed you even harder now. This time he doesn't even let air get in between the two of you. His lips that felt like feathers before now seemed to pull at your lips, tug at them, making you lose whatever rationality you had left in your mind. This felt natural.

Kissing him felt like everything you've ever known but also every thing you can't believe you haven't been doing everyday.

One of his hands reached behind your waist and pulled you flushed against him while the other made its way into your hair. His lips mould into you like architecture, perfect, fitted. He quickly learned that pulling at your lower lip made you moan, that it made you gasp every time you would try to separate for air and he wouldn't let you because he wasn't done with you yet.

And just as naturally you learnt that he moaned the loudest when you rutted against him while your tongue was in his mouth. You realized that he liked his lower lip being tugged at but it drove him insane if you so much so even grazed your tongue across his upper lip.

You don't realize when his lips left your mouth and went down your neck. The pleasure had been too much. You only noticed it when you let out a loud moan and Jin had to practically pull away and look at you in amusement.

And so he did it again. He kissed your neck, then sucked at it, bit it and then ran his tongue over it in feather touch again eliciting the same reaction from you.

"Fuck-" he moaned against your neck and you really couldn't take it anymore. He had the most skilled mouth and you were wondering about hundred other ways he could use his mouth all over you and that thought alone drove you insane.

"You have no clue what this dress did to me that night." He was still kissing your neck, and you don't complain.

You smile at the sensation of his hand gripping your waist tighter.

"Bet it wasn't as much as your red shirt undid me."

He let out a moan at your response and pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, "I don't think you noticed but I couldn't take my eyes off you that night. Wanted to do so many things- thought about you in every way a friend shouldn't."

You looked him in his eyes and tugged at his shirt, "we've already ruined this friendship. Do everything you wanted to."

You didn't know a man's growl could make you feel feral but he did. He didn't stop, he didn't hesitate anymore. His hand reached the end of your dress and pulled it up until it was bunched against your waist. He doesn't even realise the effect he had on you, the way you were melting under his touch as his fingers grazed against your thighs or he knew exactly what he was doing and that's why he kept driving you insane.

And then his hand reached the string of your dress over your shoulder and pulled it away kissing your shoulder as he did.

"Do you like it?"

Your response came with sliding your hand under his shirt and touching him. He stopped physically for a moment as your nails raked his chest. And to make it worse your access to his neck and to kiss along his neck made him more desperate for you than he had ever imagined.

"Need to have you- Y/n, I can't-" he moaned and he slipped the other string of your dress.

"Need you too." You moaned next to his ear and that was all it took for him to take you into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and manhandling you into the bed.

You smiled as he climbed on top of you, tossing his shirt aside, losing your sanity at his bare chest. His knees rested on the bed next to your thighs and he kept staring at your dishevelled state, your hair had proof of his hand running through it. Your neck had proof of his kisses, your lips swollen as an aftermath.

"Why are you staring?" You finally asked, feeling more naked than you were.

Then he leaned and kissed you on the mouth again.

"Can't believe my imagination is becoming real."

You chuckled but you ended up moaning as you felt his hands drop over your chest.

"I've imagined about you too."

He lifted his gaze to look at you. His eyes blown out with lust.

"Really?"

You nodded.

Then he smiled, smirked if you were right as he found the zipper of your dress and began taking off your dress. It doesn't take long before it's off and thrown away somewhere in the room and he's surprised at the sight of your bare chest.

He gulped as he looked at your chest. Blood rushed to your face as you realized your nakedness but as if he realised the actual purpose of taking off your dress he leaned down to your chest and whispered,

"Tell me everything you've imagined."

The request shocks you. You didn't know Jin was vocal in bed. You've thought of Him in bed in every way possible but never this. You had never imagined that but the idea of it alone generated a wet pool between your legs.

His fingers lightly grazed over your right nipple and he repeated, "tell me Y/n, what have you thought about me."

You gasped, your nipples hardening under his touch and just as you opened your mouth, his mouth found a better purpose on your chest. He placed open kisses between the valley of your chest leaving you a moaning mess and to make it worse his hands never left giving attention to your nipples, rolling and pinching it between his fingers.

"You- thought about your-" you moaned louder at a particular pull and Jin chuckled softly.

"about my what? My mouth?" He asked.

You nodded.

"Words, Y/n."

"Your mouth on- on my- breasts." You let out a heavy breath.

"Like this." And you whined, quivered at the way his lips sucked at your nipples. At first it wasn't harsh, only peppering it with kisses but the more you arched into him, the more he took your nipple in his mouth and sucked it, licked it, tugged at it with his teeth.

Your hand automatically fell into his hair and tugged at them but he intertwined your hands with his own leaving you quivering.

"What more? What else did you think about me?"

You shook your head, the pleasure was starting to get to you.

Jin pulled away from your chest and climbed over you so he was at face level with you.

He tuts, "I've barely begun."

You didn't mean to let out a moan but his words had you melting.

He smirked then leaned down to kiss your cheek, "is it too much?"

You immediately shook your head.

"Then do you want me to tell you everything I've thought about you?" He asked as if it wasn't the dirtiest question he had ever asked you.

You bit your lip then nodded, you really did want to know.

He smirked and before you knew it his hands were already pulling at your underwear and taking them off.

"Tell me if it's too much." It came as a sincere request but it didn't really look like he would stop if you told him that he drove you insane right now.

You nodded and then without hesitation he kissed behind your ear as his hand fell between your legs.

He had to have practice. An unusual amount of practice or he was just that talented because he immediately found your soft spot. Almost immediately he realized the pace at which you liked being touched. His thumb rested over your clit and began its circular movement then in between rubbing it gently.

You clutched at the sheets next to you as your neck arched backwards.

"Thought about touching you like this-" then tapped your clit, then one more time, then as if it wasn't enough his middle finger gathered the wetness between your legs and smeared it across your clit giving you a pleasure you didn't know you could attain, "- how you would look when I touched you like this. How wet you'd be for me."

You moaned louder at his words.

"how wasted you would be- how you'd let me touch you however I want. Will you let me?"

You nodded.

He climbed down your body, finding home between your legs.

"How you'll spread for me just at a simple touch." This wasn't enough. You needed him more and his words, god his mouth, spoke the filthiest things that turned you on even more.

And then he spread your legs. His hands pinning your thighs to the bed.

"So wet for me." He licked you, he actually licked you between your legs and you thought you'd cum right there with just a sweep of his tongue but you don't.

"Have you ever touched yourself at the thought of me?" He asked and it came to you as a surprise but then you look at him between your legs looking up at you expectantly while kissing your inner thighs just the same.

Damn the timing that made you miss all this.

"Have you?" He asked again and licked you again making you shiver. You needed him so bad so you nodded because you really have. You really have touched yourself thinking of him and never has it ever come close to this.

You saw him smirk, his face devilishly seductive that made it hard to look away especially when he looked this good between your legs.

"Let's see if I can make you cum harder than any time you've made yourself cum." And he licked and sucked at your clit. Your back arched with a loud groan of his name and you thought he liked your reaction because he only did it more.

He ate you harder, switching between your clit and your pussy and every switch made you scream his name. He ate you out with such precision, such attention that you crumbled too quickly in pleasure. You couldn't handle it anymore. His mouth felt heavenly on you, unfairly good. It was evil.

You knew it if he wasn't pinning you down to the bed, you would have pulled him away from your cunt but all your attempts to soften his process were in vain because he would only pin your hands over your lower belly.

His name slipped past your lips like a prayer and he didn't leave you until you were cumming all over his mouth, until you were overstimulated and close to cumming again.

"Jin- please." You whined.

"Please what Y/n?"

"Need you." Satisfied with your request he pulled up and kissed your mouth again. You could taste yourself on his lips and never have you ever enjoyed it as much as you did now.

"In my imagination I've made you cum more times but I guess I can do that later as well."

You had no reply. The thought of this being your new relationship had you feeling electric, everywhere.

So you kiss him harder and palmed him over his jeans. He almost collapsed over you when you ran your hand over his crotch.

"You don't come with a warning, do you?" He moaned, breathily.

It was now your turn. You sucked his neck to leave a hickey and whispered, "Do you think you can handle it?"

And then he really did fall into your neck as you found your hand inside his jeans undoing his belt. He felt big, bigger than you had ever imagined and rubbing him with your hand felt surreal. Sinfully surreal.

"fuck- if you keep doing that-"

"Thought about sucking you off."

"Fuck- Y/n, what are- fuck- fuck, fuck, baby-" his moans become more hoarse, more needy as you pulled his jeans further down and clenched him in your hands.

"Jesus- Y/n-" he was very vocal about his pleasure and you loved the effect you had on him.

You tut against his neck and whisper the same words, "I've just begun."

His teeth bit too gently because it felt like if he didn't, he would combust. You felt him shiver, quiver as you fisted his dick in your hand and pumped him in your hands.

"please- jesus- please-" he pleaded. You've never seen him like this but oh how much you loved this. Liked him as needy as he was.

"Pleading already?" Pumping him faster, you too groaned as his teeth grazed at a particular spot on your neck.

"I'll cum Y/n- I'll-" but his words get lost in a loud moan that you found instantly very attractive when your thumb swiped his precum at his head.

"Thought if you'd cum over my hand or would you cum harder if I sucked you."

In a flash his hands pulled yours away and pinned it next to your head. When you looked at his face, it was ragged with heavy breathing, his chest heaving and eyes blown out wide. He was more impressed than he could express. He's never had a woman whose mouth was enough to drive him insane but then again no other woman has been you.

Just you, only you had this effect on him.

"Need to be inside you or I'll really combust. Now."

And he doesn't give you a warning before his dick is slapping against your opening. With one hand pinning your hands above your head, with the other he held his dick in his hand and glided across your pussy making you whimper.

You knew he wasn't going to last very long and so were you. You both needed each other desperately, pathetically that you could jump his bone if he didn't enter you now.

"Shall I- protection?" Your heart melted for a split second then you shook your head.

"birth contr-" but the words don't even slip out fully before he's asking you another question kissing you again.

"You really want this, right? It's not too much, is it?" His mix of sexiness and absolute innocence and sincerity swallowed you whole. Your love for him grew tenfold. It was a simple gesture but at that moment you couldn't even explain why you liked it so much.

You kissed him and agreed, "More than ever."

And then he entered you, slow at first, giving you time to adjust all the while he kept kissing you making it easier for you to take his big dick inside you.

He was big, you knew it now when he struggled to fit in but that also made you equally wet and easier to slide in further.

"Shit- so tight Y/n. How-" thrust "-are you so-" thrust "-so tight."

You back arched as he hit deeper inside you.

"Jin- fuck- faster, please." And then he hesitated no more.

The room filled with louder moans, your name leaving his mouth like a learned recitation and the sound of your skin against each other drove you crazy.

"Would have you like this everyday- if you'd let me." He moaned, his hands intervening with yours.

"Would you let me?"

And you nodded, hastily, too quickly.

"So- big- uh- fuck-" the last word came out with a louder scream as he hit a particular spot inside of you.

And he kept hitting over and over again as he whispered into your ears how much he liked having you wrapped around him, how much he had thought of crumbling under him.

"would have fucked you that night- in the bathroom of that party- that's how much I wanted you," he confessed and somehow it made you feel ten times nicer about that night.

"You should have. Instead of flirting with other girls-"

"flirting? Baby- all I thought about was undressing you."

And you whimpered particularly louder as you felt yourself coming closer to climax.

"you're- y/n-" but he couldn't formulate his words well enough because you were clenching around him too much.

He pulled out almost to the brink, halting, "I'll cum if you keep doing that-"

You pulled him by his neck, "that's the goal."

And fucked out by you, he pushed in without warning, harder, and faster, hitting your spot repeatedly.

Your hands claw at his back, trying to find some other relief that doesn't arrive.

And then you crumbled with one push that pushed you further up the bed. And it doesn't take longer before he's whimpering in the crook of your neck, and cums inside you.

He stayed inside you for a bit as you both try to catch your erratic breath to normal. His body grew softer against you and after a few seconds passed he looked up, pulled out of you and got up to get you a wash cloth and changed the sheets.

Minutes after cleaning up you both collapse back into the bed, Jin on top of you.

You giggle, your hands threading his hair.

"Tired?" You asked.

He mumbled against your neck as he covered the two of you with a sheet.

"More than I ever thought."

"I hope it's a good thing."

He looked up at you with a sheepish smile, "It's the best."

And you grinned.

He takes a moment to look at you and then he said, "I can't believe it finally happened."

You chuckled, "you're saying it as if you've loved me longer than I have."

Even if it was a mockery he pretended to be hurt, "How can you compare my love to anything?"

You laugh, genuinely laugh at his words.

And then he climbed up so he could pull you closer to him.

"Missed your laugh."

You bit your lip and swept away his hair from his forehead, "I missed you making me laugh."

Overwhelmed, he kissed your nose, "never again."

"never what?"

"never am I ever going to leave you alone. You're mine now."

You gazed into his eyes and smiled, "yours?"

He nodded.

You let your fingers intervene with his, playing with them and said, "I've been yours for a long time now."

His expressions suddenly grew sadder, "was it painful?"

"What was?"

"loving me without ever knowing I'll love you back."

You pursed your lips then shook your head, "it doesn't matter anymore."

After a long silence he spoke up again, "It doesn't. I'm going to make sure to tell you just how much I love you to make up for all the lost time."

You smiled at him and kissed his forehead, "you have a lot of making up to do then."

As if you had destroyed a romantic moment, he rolled his eyes, "How long have you even loved me for?"

You brought your hand up and started counting on your fingers. When it exceeds ten fingers he closed your hands in his own.

"My fault, I asked." And you laughed against him.

"What about you? When did you know you loved me?" You asked.

He thought for a moment and said, "I think I loved you too long to know when it started but I only realized on the day I was leaving for the military."

"Millitary?"

He nodded, "when I saw you holding back your tears, I just wanted to hold you so bad that I knew it wasn't friendship. It was love."

"You had almost 2 years to tell me you loved me and you didn't." You were offended.

He raised his eyebrows at you, in fact he raised up physically, "like you're one to talk- let me remind you how long you waited before telling me.."

The rest of the night you stayed up talking and laughing. It didn't seem like there was enough time, like you had to talk about everything in one night but this is how you've always felt. This is how he has felt for a long time now.

And then you realized, love wasn't supposed to be loud, cliche, grand or anything, love felt like coming home.

And you had found a home in his arms. For the rest of the time.

Extra 1.

As you chewed down on your waffle he made for you sitting on the kitchen top in his clothes, it randomly occurred to you that you hadn't asked Jin one question.

"Why were you at the club last night?"

He frowned then gave you another waffle, "Hoseok asked me to. He knew I was pent up after our fight and how I felt about you so he said it would be a good way to blow off steam. In my opinion it was a trashy idea but I don't regret it anymore."

You let out a loud laugh, clutching at your stomach as you kept laughing at the realisation.

"what- what's so funny?"

You threw your head back, wiping away the tears at the corner of your eyes.

You opened your arms in a hug and asked him to come closer which he happily did. Your hands cupped his face as you gave him a peck.

"We're such idiots." You told him, still finding it funny.

"I'm sure you're right but why?" He was so confused that he wondered if his girlfriend (now) was ever going to tell him what was so funny.

"Hoseok totally set us up." And then you tell him the whole thing.

Hoseok was a mastermind in bringing you two together and you couldn't be more glad that you both had heard him.

Extra 2.

"Isn't that the dress you wore on the anniversary?" Hoseok asked as he saw it hanging over your wardrobe.

You peeped inside the bedroom and nodded, "my one and only black dress."

Hoseok smiled to himself as you walked into the kitchen. He had a plan in his mind and he definitely wasn't going to tell you that but when the day comes, you'll be praising him for his plan. And then he'll be ready for all the praises.

¹Appa: Father in Korean

A/n: certain edits are underway.

The members were fed up with their group leader Namjoon. He had just made the worst mistake of his life and yet continued to pretend that everything was fine and dandy, despite the fact that he struggled to sleep at night, eyes stayed red and glossy with tears, body always jumpy and on edge like something was out to get him.

Namjoon even started smiling less, no longer laughing around with his 6 important members or reacting to any of their jokes. He even stopped reading and claimed he preferred to just “chill”—and chilling for him was zoning out and overthinking everything he’s ever done.

It’s been three weeks since Kim Namjoon broke up with you—and the truth is, he never should have done it in the first place. Who cared if he company made him? Who cared if he said it was to keep you safe? Who cared if it gave you peace and him a more stable career for his K band. Idol or not, you were what made him feel human. Whether he realized this or not, the people who cared for him did—and those people wanted nothing more but to have their leader normal again.

Namjoon sat in his room, spacing out to white noise while his friends, his members, his non biological brothers gathered down stairs. Spacing out was his new hobby. Namjoon Kim still felt so useless and alone doing it though…

“Someone has got to do something about it.” Yoongi said quietly, keeping his voice low so the yearning Namjoon couldn’t know of this conversation. Taehyung nodded but then posed a new way of thinking.

“I know, but maybe it was for the better. You know how hyung gets when it comes to his music…And he can avoid a public scandal that could bring us down with him.”

“He’s not gonna be able to make music without that woman though!” Jimin whined.

Seokjin only nodded in agreement.

“Well…We could try to make them meet up.”

“Guys we’re still famous…it would need to be in a really private library.” Yoongi pointed out.

“We have one of those! Joonie used to go there often to get away with—His now ex…” Jimin said with a soft smile.

“Yeah let’s get them to meet up.” Seokjin nodded.

“Hmm, okay but it has to look like an accident though.” Taehyung said with a thoughtful pout.

“Accident?” Hoseok asked, baffled. “Don’t you know our Joonie can catch on to anything??”

“He hasn’t been himself lately. He might not be thinking clearly.” Yoongi pointed out.

Everyone hummed in agreement.

“So what are we going to do?” Seokjin asked with a confused expression. Jungkook’s suddenly grinned, as if the light bulb of this brain had just lit up from his high IQ alone.

“I have a plan.”

—————————————————————

“Come on Joonie. You love reading!” Jimin whined, yanking on his older friend’s arm to get into the library door.

“Used to. Now I don’t feel like it.” Namjoon deeply groaned, running a rough hand through his healthy dark strands.

“Come on. Just pick up a book.”

“Why?!?” Namjoon snapped in his deep voice as he raised a thick eyebrow in question. He was beginning to get suspicious of whatever made his shorter friend, Jimin so desperate to get him inside the library.

Jimin sighed “Come let’s just go to romance section. Please?”

Finally giving in, Namjoon shrugged with a long sigh. “Fine. But then we have to leave.”

“It’s not like you have anything to do anyway!?” Jimin groaned, dragging the large Namjoon inside.

—————————————————————

Meanwhile, Mr Jeon himself randomly asked you to come over to a very specific, very “I used to do this with my ex” library and wait for him in the romance section.

Weird.

Random.

But maybe he had some tea about your ex, Namjoon.

How dare he break your heart and choose his career before you??

I mean, who wouldn’t. He’s had that idol dream long before you came alone. Before you, music was his first love.

But still, the fact he broke up with you, the alleged Apple of his eye, hurt so badly the emotions didn’t kick in. Also, the fact that your safe space (him) was suddenly gone just made everything worse.

It was hard to hate him when you missed everything about him. His laugh, his morning voice, his random energy bursts, his long walks and talks, his book ramblings, his dimpled bright smile, the way his eyes would soften, the way he got so touchy with you despite not being a man of touch, his random selfies as he worked on music in the studio, his bad habit on spending money on Pokémon cards.

If you ended up running into him in the library by someway, some Kookie, you wouldn’t mind trying to get back with him. The breakup didn’t even feel like a real one since all he did was send an email showing how his company thinks this and that and blah blah idols should never date cause if they were caught bad things would happen and blah blah.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

Then, he saw you. Hands searching through the romance section of books as if the story of him and you weren’t better. Body language so familiar to the point where he could remember the way you breathed. The exact way your pulse beat. Your heavenly side profile and beautiful facial structure he used to know oh-so well to the point where an imprint of your face would on his eyelids each time he closed his eyes, each time he blinked.

By reflex he wanted to run to you. Grip onto you. Hold onto you forever. Kiss you like old times and beg for your forgiveness like a desperate juvenile. But then suddenly, like a deer in headlights, he stopped himself.

“N-No. We’re not doing this.”

Being the coward he was, he turned back around and attempted to sprint off, hurt koala style. Luckily, Jimin made sure to step in and grab his mucular arm, grounding him firmly and holding him in place right before he could escape.

“Face your fears.” Jimin encouraged, soft gaze meeting Namjoon’s panicked. Namjoon rapidly shook his head and blinked in panic.

“I broke her heart. I-I don’t want to remind her of the pain I left her with—“

“Y/N!!” Jimin suddenly called out.

You turned your head.

Namjoon wanted to die as your confused and then realizing gaze immediately landed on him.

—————————————————————

Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon and you all sat in the library with a romance in hand. You had your heavy smut because why not? Jimin had romantisia while Jungkook got his hands on a romance novel. Namjoon held a classic romance book, one that he has read before during the days that he felt like himself—When he was once with you.

The tension between you and your ex was so thick you could slice it, and that was what Jimin and Jungkook were attempting to do.

You sat next to Jungkook while Jimin and Namjoon sat side by side, across from you. Namjooon sat directly across from you since you heard Jimin insisting that he should sit there.

The library on its own was small, empty, quiet and by the window, you could see the lovely garden with many multi colored plants that brightened up the scene.

“Soo Y/n, what book are you currently reading?” Jungkook nudged at you.

You quietly showed him the title of your book and he snatched it to examine, big cheeky bunny smile plastered on his face. Namjoon unknowingly flinched at the action of Jungkook’s snatch.

Jimin looked up from his own book to see what seemed to have caught yours and Jungkook’s eye.

“Ohh, Joonie was looking at that one too.”

Jimin hummed. Jungkook playfully skipped through the book, looking at pages spontaneously and before you could stop him, he struggled to supers his laughter when he came across chapter 14 of the book. A very, smutty page you could say.

“Damn~. Didn’t know hyung read smut like that. And it’s the female’s perspective.”

Namjoon’s handsome face went red and he started coughing like he was chocked up.

Jungkook leaned over and whispered to Jimin. “Maybe we should just leave them alone.”

“Yeah, let’s roll.“

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

“Do you really read smut?”

“Sometimes.” Namjoon quickly replied, anxiety obvious as the large man rocked back and forth in his seat like a child.

“Since when?”

“Since you.” He blurted out.

Awkward silence followed along with a few mindless mutters from Namjoon before he attempted to address the elephant in the room.

“I uhm. I.”

Then suddenly, Namjoon remembered what his close friend Jimin told him once he grabbed his arm.

“Face your fears.”

Namjoon then looked up at you for a few seconds. He saw your unknowingly soft gaze, focused expression, attentive mind. Namjoon took a deep breath and decided he will just tell his raw, honest thoughts to you in one fast go.

“I’m really really really sorry. I’m very sorry and embarrassed for breaking up with you. I’m sorry and I n-need you back. I don’t care if everything I worked towards came crashing down now. You are my love, my life and I need you back. So bad. Please. I’ll never leave you this time. I promise. I’ll make a contract even and—“

You suddenly got up and gripped his large hand, a simple action that always seemed to calm him down when he got scared like this.

“It’s okay. Namjoon, I understand.”

“I love you.” He said breathlessly.

Suddenly he got up and grabbed your hand.

“Let’s check out the romance section again.”

—————————————————————

As soon as you both reached the romance section, namjoon checked the area, looking left and right as if he were to cross the street. As soon as the coast was clear, his large frame pinned you against the nearby book shelf and he kissed you like he was starving yet also further apologizing for ever leaving you in the first place.

He gently pinned your hands up and over your head with one hand while continuing to thrust his tongue into your mouth like crazy. His other hand rubbed soothing circles on your lower hip, a small action of affection that he doesn’t notice.

You kissed him back with the same passion and longing, exploring the familiar maze of his soft lips and hot mouth.

His fingers gripped around your wrist and hips like it was the only thing grounding him. Suddenly, he pulled you down on top of him as he slid you both down the the floor.

His lips never left yours as you sat on top of him and gripped his firm waist for support. He frantically took control of wear he wanted to kiss you next and his rough fingers gently gripped your hair.

He started kissing on your sensitive neck, starting from your jawline and leading down to your collar bone. You moaned at the feeling of his soft sucks and rocked your hips onto him gently.

Each suck, each little bite was starting to get more and more needy, leaving red spots within his touch. There was basically no one in this library except you and him, why not?

Then suddenly, his movements stilled, and sensing his body, you stopped too. He gripped you tightly and moved his body so your face would be covered. He was acting like a protective bear and you didn’t even know what was happening. Then you heard it.

Click chick.

“Oh wow. They made up quick.” Jungkook hummed with the camera sound of his phone going off a second time. He definitely was sending the intimate position you and your situation shook ex namjoon were in to the group chat. You could just see it on his bunny smile.

“마사요…“ Jimin nodded with a giggle, eye smile pretty and wide.

“Glad he’s feeling better.”

The group plan was a success and now they could leave and you Joonie alone.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:

<3

__________________________________________

10PM

Jungkook was so close, he just had to keep stroking. It didn’t matter if his hands started to ache and cramp. It didn’t matter if his cock grew more red from how aggressive he was jerking it.

The beautiful picture of you on his phone, smiling bright, happy eyes, carefree spirit in the setting sun, only got him harder, blood flow going south, girthy dick increasing in thick clear precum, cock throbbing in his tight hand with the threat of a fourth orgasm.

The absence of your body next to him only made him feel the need to continue jerking off, stroking his glistening pink tip up and down until you, his wife returned back to the mansion.

A part of his sick mind actually enjoyed the thought of you returning home and smelling his essence, witnessing his sticky mess. The shock on your face. Maybe a curious thought of his own taste. With that thought, his hips thrusted up into his hand and he gasped like a perv.

“Fuck, fuck.”

He had just came into his sticky tatted hand for the fourth time. Tissues laid around. Ropes of warm cum sticked onto the sheets and walls like some kind of paint. Your husband laid there, cock throbbing and patheticly shaking, thinking of what photo of yours he hasn’t jerked off too yet.

Just before your husband, Jungkook could play with the mess he made, shamelessly pretending that it was yours, his phone notification went off, indication of a text. Could it be yours?

“Maybe she’s not mad at me anymore. M-maybe she’s texting me saying she’ll come back. All I did was collect her cum in a jar…”

Jungkook sat up and with shaky wet hands and a flushed periced faced as he maneuvered his way to the messages app. Embarrassingly his phone was covered in his own cum, making texting quite difficult, but he honestly didn’t give a fuck, he just needed to hear from you. Even if it was just text bubbles on the screen. He grinned as he leaned back on y’all’s huge m king sized bed.

“Damn it.” He angrily growled through his teeth.

The text wasn’t from you, it was his mafia team asking if he was going to show up to the territory distribution meeting. His bunny grin immediately dropped and he bit at his lip pericing so hard, he would have sworn he tasted blood. He wished it was yours.

Fuck no. He was NOT going anywhere until he could see his wife. He didn’t respond to his team and only left them on read no matter how mush they insisted he should go. Jungkook was actually worried about something else, like how he was getting tired of aggressively jerking off to your photos in silence. He needed to see you, and he was going to find out where you were hiding.

Clicking on the only pinned contact with lots of chaotic emojis, Jungkook started to spam text you frantically, softening cock still out in the air as he did so. The air was beginning to smell like him.

JK: hey I’m sorry 🥺

JK: I miss you.

JK: my love.

JK: just tell me where you’re hiding and I won’t send anyone.

60 seconds without reply.

JK: fine. be like that.

JK: just don’t forget who I am.

Out of fustraion, he quickly sent a message out to his same mafia team he left on read, suddenly ordering them with two words alone. He didn’t even bother to clean his phone, clean the large master bedroom or put his sloppy dick back in his pants. He just needed to know where you were and he just needed to see you again.

“Find. Her.”

Crazy how he, one of the biggest and most powerful mafias, the man who makes Busan go round, Jeon Jungkook, the man with the family name that held so much wealth, was reduced to an obsessed husband, desperate for his woman.

After a quick 20 minutes, the exact luxery hotel you were staying out was discovered, and the exact room you were staying in was soon tracked and revealed as well.

Jungkook Jeon didn’t waste a second pulling up to the location. He dressed in casual baggy jeans and black tank top that highlighted his muscular frame and sleeve of unique tats that somehow made him look hotter. He made sure to call his personal driver to take him to the location and carried a small pistol for his own protection. He brought two body guards with him to be on the lookout for any trouble as he went up to your hotel room.

This was all excessive. And Jungkook did this all just to what?—Hide his disgusting obsession and infatuation with you?

As he steeped into the large hotel building, glass spiny doors and everything, the workers who recognized him deeply bowed at the sight of him. Many wouldn’t dare to look him in the eye—They were smart enough to know he’d kill people for less.

“Show me her room. Take me inside.” Jungkook quietly demanded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After being escorted into the simple, discreet hotel room you planned to stay for the night, Jungkook’s eyes immediately landed on your body frame, lying sideways on the couch like the world was at peace. Mr.Jeon made sure to lock the door behind him before walking over to your body in slow, purposeful strides.

“You’re funny to think I wouldn’t find you, love.” He muttered cockily, evil bunny grin plastered on his face.

You didn’t respond.

Confused, he moved himself directly infront of your smaller fame and noticed your relaxed breathing pattern, closed eyes and limp body on the couch. It then quickly dawned on him.

“Oh shit. She is asleep.”

Jungkook crouched down to where your pretty head was facing and moved his head uncomfortably closer to you before nipping at your ear like a weirdo.

“You’re mine. Don’t forget it.” He muttered against the soft flesh. Jungkook licked his lips at the sight of your face. He really missed you.

His tatted hand, the same hand that was jerking his cock for him not to long ago, stroked you face with a soft consideration. He traced your nose, then your lips, even your eyelids before he whispered to himself like a prayer.

“My beautiful lady.”

He hummed to himself with a soft pure smile despite him being everything but that. Pure.

“She’s looks less stressed when she’s sleeping like this.”

Jungkook leaned his larger body down to inhale your scalp. “Mmhhh…I found my drug,” he moaned as he rolled his eyes back in pleasure. It was pathetic how hard he was getting from just the scent of you. He pressed his nose back in your scalp for another whiff.

“Mmm f-fuck, you smell so so good.”

As he breathed you in. Inhale, exhale and inhaling your natural musk again, his hands wandered round his own body. Then with both rough hands, he pathetically rubbed his crotch area through the jeans.

“Hmphmm…” his hips naturally started to thrust back and forth on the couch while his hands continued the circular motions. He didn’t want to touch you while you were sleeping because he wanted you to be awake for that. There was nothing he loved more than your face when he was fucking you.

Suddenly he freezed, you had just yawned…

In panic, your husband Jungkook started kissing your forehead to try and lull you back to sleep. He didn’t dare to remove his hands from his crotch area though.

“Shh…Mine. mine.”

He whispered against your skin.

“Hmm…yeah.” you whimpered in your sleep. Jungkook’s eyes went wide with desire and his ears went red.

“I can’t mmm—fuck.”

As he stood up with the intention to take off his jeans and maybe stroke his cock to the soft sounds of your sleeping mumbles, he noticed a peice of clothing on the floor right by the couch.

“Oh, what’s this?”

Jungkook reached over and slowly grabbed the item up from the floor. Slowly at the realization, a wicked yet sexy smirk plastered on his pretty periced lips. It was your lacy red underwear. You had a habit of sleeping without it.

Looking briefly at the peice of lace in his hands, then at your sleeping body, then back at the cloth, he took his slimy long tongue and licked the inside of it. He cheesed even more at the flavor on his tongue.

“Hehe. Yes—I can taste your essence perfectly. I’m keeping this.”

He quickly stuffed your underwear in his back Jean pocket after he’s had his fill.

Back to stroking your hair as you slept, he continued grinding against the hotel couch ever so slightly. It’s not like he could help the ache his cock was going through. Only you could do that. He was so obsessed with you it wasn’t funny.

You moaned while still in your sleep as if sensing his motion, and that only encouraged him to keep going, dick still active in his thick blue jeans despite all of the mastubation he did prior. He started moving a little faster, with a little more purpose, pathetically thrusting against the couch as if trying to seek some sort of friction.

“Mm Jungkook.” You whimpered in your sleep.

He gasped.

“Stop that, or I’m gonna—“

He suddenly came for the fifth time, this time in his baggy jeans. His eyes rolled back and he rubbed himself through the pants to prolong the unexpected orgasm. His legs were shaking and his stomach was naturally pushing in a way that made the orgasm feel so much more intense.

“Mmm yes, fuck yes, a-ahhh—“

His eyes he closed his eyes to imagine you, completely in the moment. Then suddenly—

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He movements stilled like he had been shot at the sound of your sleepy voice. Jungkook slowly fluttered his eyes open, large boba eyes immediately feigning innocence and forgiveness.

“Hi—“

You harshly threw a hard pillow right at his face and he laid back on the floor, accepting his defeat completely.

“What the fuck Jungkook???” You yelled.

Flinching, he quickly got down on his knees and started begging for forgiveness like he almost did through text.

“I’m so sorry for being a pervert. Please just forgive me. I’m sorry but I just can’t help it. I just need you. Please please forgive me.”

His lips went all pouty and the fully grown, mafia man with a sleeve of tats and facial of pericings made his eyes go all bunny like, some way somehow. There was no denying how his balls were still rock hard and twitching in his jeans. He just really needed you. Clearly, he didn’t care about his mafia image when it came to you.

Do you forgive him?

A/N: I apologize for any spelling mistakes or typos! hopefully you still understood what I was trying to say and I will come back to fix everything soon.