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Two years after an end-all argument with Taehyun, you’re forced to spend Christmas weekend together at your mother’s, and his father’s. Once upon a time he meant the world to you. Now that you’re both married with kids, things are getting messy, and a little blurry. The longer you stick around in the home you both grew up in, the more secrets come out… It’s always been messy, it was always blurry. All you want, all you truly yearn for, is to get back on good terms with Taehyun.

word count↠ 33,944

warnings↠ MDNI. 18+. no graphic depictions of sex but it is heavily implied, drug use, teenage drug use, alcohol abuse, angst amongst taehyun and reader, insinuation that someone will s/a reader (briefly, not described), teenage pregnancy (age nineteen), step-cest before they are officially step siblings (growing up together in same house, not step-sibs until they are full adults), infidelity, not so fabulous parents, neglectful mother, biting at some point if you squint, crying, lots of crying, many many sex insinuations (not graphic)… if i missed anything PLEASE tell me.

a/n↠ i put my BACK into this one, i feel pretty proud of this. this may be extremely taboo to some people. this topic is frowned upon by most. if you don’t like it, simply scroll by, thank you. the idea sparked in my head, and i couldn’t let it go. to those of you intrigued, to those of you who end up reading- thank you. 🫶

posted↠ 12/20/23 ~ 12 a.m. est

White crystal snowflakes whirled through the brisk air, the wind nipping at your cheeks as you struggled with the car seat buckle for the third time this week. The toddler you were strapping in had her hand stretched out of the van door, trying to catch a snowflake filled with wonder as to why she couldn’t hold one in her warm mittens.

“No-flake, Mama,” she mumbled to you. “No-flake!”

“The snowflakes are so pretty, just like you, Mina,” you smiled at her, adjusting the straps over her shoulders, hoping to ease your struggle.

Behind you, the front door to your two story home flung open and slammed shut, the scuffle of snow boots plowing down the porch stairs followed. Equally shrill, loud mouthed shouts filled the quiet winter air.

“Boys, don’t jump in the-“

Glancing over your shoulder, it was too late. Your twin boys, Chan and Sunoo, were knee deep in the snowdrifts on top of the gardens that lined along the porch. Dark hair and matching brown eyes grinned maniacally at you.

“You both need to get in the car, we’re gonna be late!”

Mina shoved a mitten in her mouth, biting down on the fabric with her tiny teeth ripping it off of her hand. While you watched Sunoo and Chan trudge through the snow, each one trying to shove the other to the ground as they raced to the van, your two year old threw her mitten to the ground. And then the other one, with a shriek.

“I’m right here,” you soothed, turning back to your daughter with a sigh. “Meens, it’s cold baby,” you crouched to pick the little pink mittens up off the ground, “you have to wear these.”

“No wear,” she frowned, her eyebrows sinking over the eyes she shared with her father. She puffed out her pouty cheeks, becoming the carbon copy of him. Out of all of your kids, Mina looked the most like him.

“Yes, wear,” you said, reaching for one of her hands that both shot up into the air in an instant. Her bottom lip crinkled, and you withheld the groan you ever so wished to release from the depths of your being.

Christmas was supposed to get easier as the kids got older, not harder. All morning you had been arguing over clothes and trying to contain your chaotic twin five year olds to their bedroom just so you could brush their hair. Mina kicked you in the chin on accident while you were putting on her boots amidst an hour-long meltdown because she had barely slept the night before, which usually meant she was getting sick- another glorious thing to deal with while you traveled for the weekend.

Sunoo wanted to put on his pants himself, getting the fabric stuck in the zipper, and Chan insisted on helping him fix it. By the time you were back in their bedroom after Mina nearly knocked you out, the pants were ripped and Sunoo had to change his entire outfit, which meant the boys weren’t matching anymore. Meltdown number two. From the brother of a boy with ripped pants who’s favorite thing was getting to match with his twin.

Mina was set free to roam around the house, clunking around in her boots looking for her father, and you squeezed Sunoo into his outfit from last Christmas Eve, mentally preparing yourself to hear sly comments from your mother all weekend wondering why he wasn’t in the new clothes she bought him, and ‘those pants are way too short, dear, do you need me to go shopping with you?’.

The one thing, the one amazing, thoughtful thing that took some of the weight off of your shoulders was your husband taking care of the youngest of your crew, Wonwoo. A tiny, calm, beautiful six month old surprise you all only found out about ten months ago.

Mina had just turned two, the boys were about to graduate Pre-K, and you had run out of bedrooms. With four months to prepare for a new baby, your husband stepped up, with the help of his friend Kai, and converted half of the basement playroom into a bedroom for the twins, one they could grow into throughout the years. Mina moved into the boy's old room, painted purple by her father, and Wonwoo got his own room right next door to his sister.

You would put up with the boys, “Just because we’re twins means we don’t get our own rooms?!”, argument later. That was a problem for future you. Not the current you fighting with your two year old over mittens, dodging snowballs your five year olds were throwing at one another.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you muttered under your breath, knowing your curses couldn’t be heard over the boys shouts or Mina’s wailing. “Boys, in the car now!” One mitten wrestled onto Mina’s right hand. The twins didn’t hear you, or they ignored you. “Boys!” A snowball hit the ground by your feet. Two mittens on, and one seatbelt successfully buckled.

Ready to hoof it through the snow to put a twin on each hip, they were still small enough to do so, the front door shut followed by the jingling of keys as it was locked making both boys freeze in their boots.

Shooting you a look of reassurance before eyeing the boys, your husband, with a baby carrier in one hand and keys in the other, carefully started down the stairs. His smooth black hair that usually hung over his eyes was parted to the side, resting on top of his thin rimmed glasses that he pushed up his nose with his knuckle. A jean jacket not nearly warm enough for this weather hugged his stretch of a frame, hiding a white button up beneath it, the top two buttons undone with nothing under it.

It was a wonder why Wonwoo was such a surprise, your husband’s been a babe since the day you met. Fatherhood didn’t change him the slightest, if anything it made you want him more.

“Soobin,” you said through your teeth, placing your hands on top of your head. “I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Speaking quietly as he came closer, you didn’t need your children hearing your moment of despair. They were all being a nuisance, but it was reasonable. The twins were excited, it was Christmas and they were about to spend the weekend with their family they rarely got to see, and Mina was getting sick. Not only that, Mina was two years old and still learning how to properly express the way she was feeling, still learning what emotions even were. Those words were bound to come out of Soobin at some point.

“You’re doing great,” Soobin said, handing you the carrier with your youngest snoozing away inside, bundled up in a bear onesie with ears on the hood, covered up with a fuzzy blanket to keep him warm and to make sure the seat buckles were on him securely. “Put him in his seat, I got tweedledee and tweedledum.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek as you giggled.

Since their father had stepped out of the house both Chan and Sunoo were attentive, one eye on Soobin and one eye on each other. They still made snowballs, but were hesitant to throw them.

Circling around the trunk of the van, taking a peek inside to make sure everyone's bags were there, you watched as Soobin put his hands on his hips, and asked the boys nicely why they weren’t listening to you. The snowballs fell from their gloved fingers and they both shrugged.

“Your mother has been taking care of your sister all morning,” he began, the boys looking up to him with wide eyes. “You know Mina can’t do the things that you can do yet, she still needs a lot of help. I’m so proud of you both for getting dressed on your own and helping each other, but now it’s time to help Mom, okay?”

Setting Wonwoo in his place, making sure everything was properly locked, twice, you tried to not let the twins' attentiveness to their father get you down. It seemed no matter what you did, no matter how you spoke to them, they chose to always, always, listen to Soobin.

Two tiny heads nodded, and two tiny voices spoke at once. “Okay, dad.”

“You’re excited it’s Christmas?” Soobin asked the boys, and they nodded again, faster this time. “Me too! You’re excited to see your cousins?” The boys smiled and nodded, starting to walk toward the car. “Me too, you know we haven’t seen your Uncle Taehyun in forever.”

Your step brother's name made you fumble, bumping the handle of Wonwoo’s carrier, making him stir. “No, no, no.” You whispered, freezing, saying a silent prayer that he wouldn’t wake.

Chan and Sunoo reached Soobin, both boys reaching up for him, tugging on his clothes in some way. “I can't pick you up right now, you decided to play in the snow and now you’re all wet.” Two pouty five year olds gazed up at him, big, round, sappy eyes. Mina may be his twin, but they all shared the same pouty face. You weren’t sure when the twins mastered it. “You made your decision. Now you have to climb over Mina to get in your seats because your brother is asleep.”

“She will kick us!” Chan nearly shouted, looking up to his father in shock. Sunoo’s glance exchanged between Soobin and his brother, anxious to see what he would say, because you all knew for a fact, that Mina wouldn’t hesitate to kick them.

The toddler had calmed her crying to watch her brothers, gnawing on one of the mittens you stuck back on her hands. Her tear stained cheeks perked up when she heard Soobin say her name. Either that, or she was proud that she already had a reputation at the ripe age of two.

“Mina won’t kick you,” you said, sliding the van door shut on Wonwoo’s side, walking around it to stand beside your husband. Gripping the handle of the passenger door, you raise a brow to Soobin and smirk. “We’re gonna be late, Soob. I’m already dreading seeing my family, I’d like to not pile on to the shit my mother has to say about me.”

“You said a bad word!” Sunoo gasped, pointing at you. Chan started to laugh. Soobin sighed.

“You said a bad word,” he said, completely serious.

Your husband was a lot of things. For starters he was stunning, he knew how to dress, he was an incredible caring man, an amazing father, and a beast in the sheets. Underneath all the dreamy qualities you were still in shock you secured nine years ago, he was an insufferably proper prude. Not that you’d ever tell him that to his face, though you’ve hinted at it just to tease him. He was a gentleman, and he was raising the boys to be the same. He’d be damned if his boys ended up like half of the jerks he grew up with or encountered in his lifetime. Your husband didn’t curse, he spoke with intention, and always thought through everything carefully, sometimes too much.

Nine years together, five and a half years married, he hasn’t seemed to completely rub off on you yet. The two of you were utter opposites, anyone with eyes could see that. Anyone who knew you nine years ago could tell you that.

You and Soobin? You… With Soobin.

You, the loud mouthed, hot headed, class skipper who had detention every other week, with straight edged, outstanding GPA, respectable Soobin. Opposites attract, you assumed. Though you’d be lying if you said the beginning of your relationship wasn’t an excuse to escape the life you used to live. You were in love, you created a beautiful family, and you lived a happy life… An hour and a half away from the family you used to know.

Turning your attention down to the twins, you smiled. “I’m sorry I said a bad word. I’m a little frustrated.”

“But, that’s not an excuse,” Soobin raised his brows, looking from you to the boys. Taking a deep breath, choking back a sigh, you nodded.

“No. It’s not,” you grit your teeth. “I shouldn’t have said that word. I’m sorry.”

Soobin smiled at you. “Into the car boys, if Mina kicks you I don’t think I blame her.” He flashed you a wink as you got into your seat. Now that was more your parenting style, though you understood and appreciated Soobins. You were raised differently, you were still unlearning a lot of things, and it got a little easier with each child that came out of you.

Once the boys were in their seats and buckled after Mina did try to kick them as they climbed over her, your family was on the road, forty five minutes later than you originally planned. Between Sunoo’s outfit mishap, and now being late, you mentally prepared yourself to be berated by your mother. With Soobin by your side it’d be a little bit easier to take. Your stepfather always had your back too, telling your mother to back off if she ever started to lay it on too thick. The one who always took the brunt of it though, the one who seemed to make it disappear, was Taehyun.

Since the start, since your two families blended together, he’d stick up for you no matter the consequence. When it came to school, the two of you in the same grade, inseparable since middle school, if the two of you were caught in trouble he’d take full blame. Of course that only worked until high school when you started to get into trouble on your own, but even then Taehyun would step in front of you at home, getting the worst of the punishment.

It’d been two years since you’d last seen Taehyun. Two summers ago at his eldest daughter's tenth birthday party in his backyard, an hour and a half away in the opposite direction of you. You were the halfway point between him and your parents.

You were both thirty, you were both married, you had three year old twins and a newborn Mina, and he had his freshly ten year old daughter and seven year old son.

His wife, Sana, waltzed around the backyard dressed to the nines with a glass of wine in one hand and her cell phone in the other, showing off her assets to anyone who cared to listen. The woman was a year younger than you both. Her hair, black as night, was pin straight down her slender back exposed by the deep purple low cut dress she had chosen to wear. Around her neck was a diamond necklace she would brag about, how grateful she was that her husband worked so hard to buy it for her, along with the gaudy wedding ring sitting on her left finger.

Their daughter, Rosie, a mini Sana, had clearly been dressed by her mother that morning. You can remember how many times Soobin mumbled, “If Mina ever…” angrily to you, offended that his sister-in-law would allow her daughter to dress that way at ten years of age. The second he brought your step brother into the mix, you shut your husband right down.

Taehyun wasn’t seen with Sana the entire party. He was with his boy, Minho, enjoying what seemed like a very expensive day you were certain he dropped every penny for.

Taking care of Mina while Soobin watched over the twins running around the colorful water sprinklers, you were able to catch Taehyun’s ear only momentarily. A conversation that shoved a knife through your heart, even now if you thought about it for too long.

He was tired, Taehyun. Even though you were the one with a sleeping newborn slung over your shoulder in a dark, quiet hallway of his home. You could see it in his eyes that were once full of life beneath his messy dark hair. He wasn’t the man you knew anymore, and the weighted words you threw at each other when you were twenty came back to haunt you. Both of you.

Twenty was when everything changed. Taehyun got Sana pregnant. To which you begged him to not go through with, knowing what type of girl Sana was, even at nineteen years old. It was an accident, he once called it. Until the accident’s tenth birthday, where he nearly spat at your feet and admitted he did it on purpose.

He knocked Sana up on purpose to get away from you, to erase the past you shared, to which you sneered that that’s the very reason you wound up with Soobin. To get away from him, to erase the past you shared. The hurt that drowned his tired eyes was something you’d never be able to unsee.

Your sharp, hushed, venom laced voices were cut off by your husbands calling up to you from the bottom of Taehyun's carpeted stairs. With two hands on the banisters, Soobin had daggers for eyes, directing them only at Taehyun who you didn’t realize almost had you caged to the wall, the two of you entirely too close considering you had a baby across your chest. Soobin’s baby.

The end played out in your mind, regretting everything that had happened the moment you had collected your boys and gotten into the car. After Taehyun handed over two letters addressed to your twins, you hadn’t spoken since that moment.

Soobin’s hand slid over the soft, flowing fabric of your pants, bringing you back to present time. The twins were babbling away to one another in the third row, Mina was humming to herself, and Wonwoo was still sound asleep. Looking over at your husband, you find him glancing at you ever so often with a soft smile on his lips.

“You alright?” he asked. Grabbing his hand, you laced your fingers together and took a breath.

“Yeah,” you said, half convincing. “Just… tired. Between nursing Wonwoo and Mina fighting sleep last night, I just…”

“Right,” Soobin said, focused on the snowy road ahead. You’ve been on the road for about twenty minutes already. “Why don’t you rest until we get there?” Dragging a thumb over the back of his hand, you shrugged. Much like the needs of your children last night, your racing thoughts and pounding heart weren’t exactly going to soothe you to sleep.

Soobin lowered his brows, along with his voice. “What else is bothering you?” Though he could probably take a wild guess. Hesitating, you made your husband chuckle. “It’s going to be fine. When I talked to your mom she said he was excited to see everyone.”

“He was lying,” you whispered.

“You don’t know that,” Soobin said.

“Yes, I do.”

Pulling up to a red light, Soobin let go of your hand and touched the bottom of your chin, turning you so you would look at him. “It’s been two years. You’re thirty-two, and so is he. He’s your brother, surely you guys can use this weekend to make up and end this sibling tiff.”

The light turned green and he grabbed your hand again, his attention on the street and keeping his family safe on the hazardous roads.

Toying with his fingers, you mumbled, “He’s not my brother,” and ignored Soobin’s eyeroll and the way he pulled his hand away from you to grip the steering wheel.

“I’d also love to go this weekend without any of that,” he said, voice low.

With a heavy exhale, you twisted yourself nearly sideways to face him. “Don’t do that.”

He shot you a glare. “Don’t disappear on me.”

“Soobin.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “There’s four kids back there now, baby- Ugh, babe- Love, Jesus Christ.” Your bottom lip escaped between your teeth. Soobin shook his head. “Maybe since you’re fighting he won’t call you that. One less thing to worry about.”

Your relationship with Taehyun was a rocky path that Soobin somehow understood since day one. At the start of your relationship and up until Rosie’s tenth birthday, Soobin had never been too fond of him, knowing that Taehyun was ‘one of the jerk’s’ he didn’t want his sons becoming. At this point in your life, you’re saddened you’d have to agree.

The house you grew up in was nothing short of spectacular. Two stories high with staircases on each end of the house, it was a classically built home that your mother and step father took excellent care of. Half of the outside of the home was grey stone, while the other half, sunken back a bit, was a wash of sky blue. The driveway was grand and stretched up the blue side of the house to two chestnut brown garage doors, and from the paved driveway a sidewalk lined with gardens wound up the lawn to the front door that matched the garage.

Everything was covered in snow, making the house draped in twinkling white Christmas lights appear like it was on the cover of a magazine. From the bay window on the stone side of the house you could see the Christmas tree all lit up, wrapped in silver garland with an ornament on each branch. Every Christmas was the same. Dazzling lights outside, a show stopping display of a tree, and an anxiety attack that one of your kids would break a decoration around each corner of the house. It was like your mother forgot what it was like to have toddlers, they were worse than cats, they touched anything and everything.

Pulling into the shoveled driveway, the snow was still coming down and had worsened on the drive, both you and Soobin peeked behind you at the quiet car as soon as it was in park.

Mina, out. Wonwoo, out. Chan, out. Sunoo, sitting with his hands in his lap, smiling at his parents.

“Hi honey,” you cooed. “Thought you were asleep like everyone else.” Soobin laughed.

“What’s up, bud,” he said. “You’ve been pretty quiet. You didn’t want to talk to mom and dad?”

Sunoo shrugged, his smile still puffing out his cheeks. “I was just watching.” The five year old gestured out the window with one hand before slapping it on top of his other one, gazing out at the snow.

You and Soobin shared a look of adoration. “Just watching,” you both said at the same time with a soft laugh.

“Do you wanna wake up Chan, or do you want Daddy to do it?”

Sunoo glanced at his snoozing brother and his crooked neck, then shrugged again. “Will he be cranky if I wake him up?”

Soobin bit back another laugh. “He’s always cranky,” he mumbled for only you to hear, then said to his son, “Wake him up and tell him he has to help me bring in our things. So do you.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Sunoo said, reaching over as far as he could in his carseat to tap his brother's arm that dangled off the side.

Looking at Soobin, you nodded. “I got the babies. Why don’t you come say hi first, then we can all come back out here for everything else once my mom has hold of Meens?”

“She’s going to pass her off to Jin, you really think she’s going to let Wonwoo stay asleep?” Soobin smirked. He glanced past you out the window and took a breath. “Taehyun’s here, he can hold the baby. He hasn’t met him yet.”

Peeking out the window, the old, black Jeep Wrangler littered with different stickers made your stomach sink to your knees. He’s driven that thing since he got his license. When you met Soobin’s gaze you could tell he was serious.

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking note of Chan in the back of the van who was rubbing his eyes vigorously. “He can hold him.”

Soobin reached across your seat, touching beneath your chin like he once did about an hour ago. “Listen,” he said softly, dragging a thumb over your cheek. “We’re going to have a good weekend. I promise. It’s Wonwoo’s first Christmas,” he dropped his voice to a whisper for a second, “The boys are getting their first bikes,” you both smiled, “And you and Taehyun… You’re going to make things right. It’s time to make things right. To… move on.”

“Don’t make it sound weird,” you muttered. Soobin perked a brow. “No, come on,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Your husband laughed, then leaned forward to give you a kiss.

Both Sunoo and Chan shrieked, “EWE!”

“I love you, you weirdo,” Soobin smiled. Mina stirred behind you, catching his attention for a second. Grabbing onto his hand you pressed a kiss to his fingers and sighed.

“I love you too, Soob, so much.”

His smile grew. “I know.”

Within minutes your entire crew was up the winding sidewalk, taking your sweet, sweet time because the kids found the lights so interesting. Mina, curled up into your shoulder, could've stared at the twinkling snowflakes hanging from the trees for hours. The twins led you up the couple of steps to the front door, telling both you and Soobin to be careful because it was slippery. Car seat in hand, Soobin saluted them as a thank you, and then insisted that they were the ones to knock on the door. Their faces lit up, their tiny fists going to town on the chestnut wood, the wreath hanging on it shaking like crazy.

A sing-songy voice could be heard on the other side along with another. Your blood pressure was through the roof. Catching a glimpse of Soobin watching the boys with pride helped ease the nerves, at least you’d be here with him, with all of them, your mini me’s you created with his help. Soobin was right, this was going to be a great weekend, you were here together, and that was enough.

The doorknob to the door rattled, and it swung open in a flash, your heart rate skyrocketing for a millisecond until your mother cheered, throwing her arms around your boys.

“Finally!” Fabulous as always, she wore a champagne colored chiffon dress cut off at her knees with flowing sleeves and matching Loubuittons. Diamonds hung around her neck and dripped from her ears and her wrists. Her hair was curled, and her makeup was pristine. Always the picture of perfection.

“Hi Mom,” you smiled, pressing your lips together, firm. With a twin on each leg, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and shot you an award winning grin.

“Hello my dear,” she crooned. “Hi Soobin, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Joy,” Soobin smiled.

“Come in! Come in! God, it’s freezing out here,” Joy shuffled herself inside with the boys attached to her, making them giggle like crazy. Exchanging a look with Soobin, you both rolled your eyes.

“Rosie and Minho are in here somewhere,” Joy began, detaching the twins from her. Sunoo and Chan lifted their chins and looked around the house, taking it in as if they had never seen it before. “You’ll find them eventually, they’re not good at hiding.”

Your mother laughed toward you as if you’d get her joke. You settled for a sympathy laugh regardless, one she didn’t notice. Mouth agape, she tiptoed to your side, sliding a hand over Mina’s back.

“Think we’re coming down with something,” you said, giving your girl a gentle bounce. “She’s gonna be clingy all weekend.”

Joy pouted her silicone filled lips and held open her arms. “Be clingy right here, darling. Come ‘ere, sweetie.”

Kissing the top of Mina’s head you spoke quietly to her. “Go see your grandma, Meens.” You attempted to take her off your hip, but your girl held on tight.

“Oh, Mina,” Joy sang. “Joy has cookies in the kitchen, do you want some cookies?” Mina picked her head up, her heavy eyes blinking a couple of times before she held up a hand.

“Cookie,” she babbled.

“Cookie?” Chan whined. “Cookies? Joy, you have cookies?”

“Can we have cookies too?” Sunoo asked, looking up at you and Soobin. “I want some cookies too, please.”

Joy waited for the parents to answer, giving you eyes as persuasive as your kids.

“Well,” Soobin said, looking at you. “Can’t say no, you already brought it up. You can each have one cookie.”

Joy held her hands up and Mina nearly jumped into them. Wiggling your daughter out of her winter coat and mittens, Soobin took care of the boys and helped you hang everything up in the closet by the door after Joy hurried off to the kitchen with the kids. Sliding a hand around your back, he kissed your cheek and chuckled to himself.

“What?” Smiling up at him, you wrapped your arms around his back. He nuzzled his nose against yours and took a breath.

“Mm, nothing,” he shrugged. “Just thinking about how those kids are going to be glued to your mom all weekend.” His hands slipped lower over your pants, smoothing over the flowing fabric. “They’re going to forget about us, and we can get lost in this big house, and-” A whine slipped out of the carseat a few feet away from you. Soobin waited with baited breath for the baby to make another noise. You couldn’t help but laugh, burying your face into the collar of his jacket.

“Unfortunately that one can smell if I’ve ventured too far away from him,” you said. Soobin, still smiling, shook his head and kissed you much deeper than he had all day.

“Guess she was going to let him sleep,” Soobin said, untangling himself from you. He started for the carseat, greeting his youngest son with the sweetest voice.

“Yeah, I guess,” you furrowed your brows and glanced down the hall toward the kitchen where commotion was evident. “Here.” Turning to your husband who had Wonwoo out of the seat, tucked in the air in a newborn scrunch, you held out your arms to scoop up your little one. “He’s gonna be hungry soon.”

Adjusting the hood on his head while he was cradled in your arms, Soobin cocked his head to the side. “Give him to Joy, he can have a cookie.”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. Tapping your baby’s bottom, you turn around to peek down the hall again. “Shall we? Surely someone in there with arms will take him. I’ll help you bring in our stuff.”

“The boys will help me,” Soobin said, following you as you started down the long hall lined with galleries of photos of your family, both immediate and distant. There were plenty of you and Taehyun.

“The boys are five, and we have a lot of stuff,” you said. “They’re going to carry two bags and then they’ll hear Joy say something that sparks their interest and like you said, they’ll forget we’re here.”

The hardwood floor clicked beneath your shoes, echoing up into the high ceilings lined with wooden beams. The beige walls in this place seemed to stretch for miles, and just as you expected, there was some sort of Christmas pizzazz on every square inch. Turning into the kitchen that was toasty warm, you find the entire room was brand new. The last time you were here was shortly before Wonwoo was born, so that means in the past six months this kitchen had had another facelift.

The tile was marble, the counters were marble, and the cabinets were a dark forest green. On the end of the house, the ceiling on the kitchen was slanted and adorned with a massive skylight lined with spotlights shining down into the room.

“Mom, what the hell,” you said a little too loud.

“Bad word!” Sunoo pointed at you.

Joy, at the island counter with Mina sitting on the marble with a cookie in her hand and both boys standing beside her, looked toward you curiously. “What's the matter, honey?”

“This,” you gestured around the kitchen you had to admit was gorgeous. “It’s like the fifth time you’ve redone it.”

Joy frowned. “You don’t sound happy, what is it ugly? What did I miss?” She parroted her head around like she’d find an imperfection somewhere. Mina copied her, glancing around before she spotted you and Soobin and smiled.

“Mama,” she said, waving her cookie toward you.

“Hi Mina,” you nodded, stepping closer to her. “No, Mom, it’s… stunning. Just wish you’d commit to an aesthetic. This shit’s expensive.”

“Bad wooord!” Sunoo and Chan shouted.

“Babe,” Soobin’s tone was flat.

“This shit is very expensive, darling, but my God, it’s gorgeous,” Joy waved a hand around, flicking her diamond bracelet up and down her wrist.

“Joy! Bad word!” Chan pouted, looking up at his grandmother in defeat. Soobin sighed heavily, and you wanted to apologize, but he pulled the boys out of the kitchen before you had the chance to do so.

“We’re going to bring our things inside,” your husband said to you, disappearing with the boys down the hall.

Once he was gone Joy wiggled her brows. “Daddy Soobin still strict as ever, huh?”

“He’s not strict, Mom,” you shook your head. “He’s far from it.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, taking a bite out of a cookie. Mina tried to grab it from her, but she pulled it away. “Sweetie, you’ve got your own, and your military boot camp daddy said only one.”

“One,” Mina smiled, holding up a finger. Joy’s face lit up, making your daughter laugh.

“Good job, Mina,” she cooed. “How’s that baby of yours?” She asked you while she played with Mina.

Looking down at Wonwoo who was gazing up at the skylight, you smiled at him. “He’s perfect.”

“You feeling better about adjusting to four?” Joy snuck a glimpse of you, her eyes written with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I am,” you nodded. “Wonwoo’s an angel, so he made it too easy. Makes me feel like we could do five.” Joy thankfully laughed along with your joke.

“Yeah, well, if my husband looked like that I don’t think we’d stop.”

“Mom!” Your eyes went wild as she laughed.

“Come on, I’ve said it since you started dating him, Soobin’s a good one.”

Looking down at your baby again, you smiled. “He is a good one.” The kitchen went quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from Mina as she tried to put a cookie into Joy's mouth, and cheering to herself as she did. Praising her, Joy took a bite of the sugary snack and put it down, meeting your unreadable gaze.

“What’s the matter? You’re pregnant again, aren’t you.”

“Mom!”

“You have that look on your face,” she circled her finger toward you. Mina grabbed onto it and tried to put it in her mouth. “No, honey, you can’t eat my jewelry… What’s going on?”

With a breath, you shrugged and forced the words out of your mouth, attempting to sound as casual as possible. “Taehyun and Sana here?”

Joy lifted a brow. “Taehyun’s here. No Sana.”

“No?” you questioned in surprise. Joy eyed you curiously.

“Sweetie, they’ve been divorced for almost a year,” she said. Placing her palms flat on the marble counter around your daughter to keep her in a safe space, Joy narrowed her eyes. “You’re telling me you didn’t know that?”

Mouth wide open, you scoffed. “Had no idea. How did this not come up this summer?”

Joy shrugged. “I dunno, I figured the two of you had talked, and it’s his business, he didn’t need me spreading it around.”

She had a point.

“When was the last time you spoke to your brother?”

The word made your skin crawl.

“He’s not…” you nearly sneered, but stopped yourself before you opened a can of worms. “We haven’t talked… in a long time.”

Joy dodged a Mina kick, but still swam in her laughter, squeezing her cheeks with glee. “Tell me when that was.”

Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath. “Rosie’s tenth birthday party.”

“What!” Joy shouted, startling Mina. “I’m sorry, honey, c’mere.” She popped your daughter on her hip and scrambled out of the kitchen. “Follow me.”

Doing what you were told, you shifted Wonwoo over your shoulder and followed your mother to the other side of her home down the stretch of another hall. On the way you passed by a full bathroom, an office space and a living room with a TV screen as large as one in a movie theater. You ended up at the bottom of a staircase with your heart at the bottom of your stomach.

“Taehyun!” Joy shouted up the wooden dual level stairs.

“Mom, stop, we’ll talk,” you whispered, but your cries for help went unnoticed.

“Kang Taehyun!”

“Tae-yun,” Mina said, observing her grandmother. “Tae-yun!”

“Great,” you mumbled. What a fantastic word for her to learn and bring home with her.

“I’m coming!” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Hang on!” Even muffled by walls it churned your stomach into knots.

“You’re gonna talk now,” Joy shot you a glare over her shoulder. “It is Christmas goddamnit, I won’t have my kids fighting on Christmas.”

All you could give her was a sigh. From the front of the house you heard the door open and close. Poor boys were only on trip number one.

“Mom, I have to help Soobin with the car-”

Her hand cut you off. “Hush, he’s coming.”

Footsteps sounded upstairs, hurried footsteps, ones you would recognize blindfolded. You spent years listening to and memorizing the footsteps of the people you shared this house with.

“Taehyun!” Joy shouted for the last time.

He appeared at the top of the stairs with a grin, and the wind was knocked out of you. Meeting your eyes first he must’ve read your energy, because he blinked a couple of times and retreated down a single step hesitantly. You wanted to greet him somehow, this was no way for you to see somebody for the first time in two years, standing at the bottom of a staircase speechless.

He looked different. His hair was a little lighter, and you wondered if it was done on purpose or if age was already getting to him. Dressed the same as he usually would be, dark ripped jeans and a band tee that finally fit him properly instead of hanging off of his skinny frame. He hated the gym, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d been working out… But, then how would he be filling out the sleeves of the tee the way he was if he wasn’t lifting… something.

There was color in his cheeks and life in his big brown eyes. He looked happy. And it tore your heart apart.

“Hi, Baby,” he shot you a big, toothy grin. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Long time no see.” Taehyun's gaze dropped to the baby in your arms. You swore his smile faltered before he met your eyes once more.

“Care to explain to me why your sister told me the two of you haven’t spoken in two years?” Joy cut the ever so joyous reunion off, and for once you were grateful for her obliviousness. Taehyun tilted his head to the side to think, but you know he knew damn well why the two of you haven’t spoken. It just wasn’t something you could share in front of Joy.

“Uhm, it’s just… Life, I guess,” Taehyun shrugged twice, looking at you for help. Either that or he was mentally crucifying you for opening your mouth.

Joy popped a hip and clicked her tongue. “You’re a shit liar, just like your father,” she said. “Whatever is going on, you two work it out before dinner please.” Stepping away from the stairs, Mina in her arms, she held up a hand and shouted, “No fighting on Christmas!”

You watched her walk away, and the moment she was out of earshot you pointed your attention up to the top of the stairs. Taehyun’s eyes were wide, and his smile was gone. Both of his hands held onto the wooden railing, like he was ready to prop himself up on it and slide down like he’s done before many times. He tried to teach you how to do it a long, long time ago, but you ended up with stitches in your elbow instead.

“You really said something to her?” Taehyun broke the minute of silence that was beginning to suffocate you both. “I was fully prepared for you to walk in here and we just pretend like everything is okay for a couple days for her sake.”

“I can’t do that,” you whispered.

His jaw tightened. “I need you to do that.” He started down the stairs, his chunky sneakers clunking with every rushed step he took. Brushing past you, his scent was familiar. He still wore the same cologne.

“And what if I can’t?” Your voice made him freeze. He turned around halfway.

“Then, I’m gonna take my kids and we’re gonna leave,” he said, then continued down the hall.

“We’re really not gonna talk about this?” you asked. “We’re not even gonna try to fix it?”

He whirled around, swinging his hands at his sides before he crossed them over his chest. His biceps bulged out of his sleeves. “We’re not,” he gritted his teeth. He took two steps closer to you. “We can’t. There is nothing to fix.”

“It’s Christmas.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

Taehyun glanced down to where Wonwoo laid. “Yeah. It’s Christmas. You keep having babies, and I’m divorced. You’re happily married, playing house with your amazing husband, and keep pulling me back under whenever you come around and wanna talk.” You gulped, he watched you do so. “We’re done. We were a long time ago. Now, we act like everything is fucking perfect, or I’m gonna get called into work tonight and break Joys heart.”

Staring each other down, he didn’t walk away until you nodded. Wonwoo stirred on your shoulder, a small sound slipping out of the boy's mouth. Rubbing his back you watched Taehyun disappear around a corner wrapped in silver garland. Resting your cheek on the hood of Wonwoo’s onesie, you soothed him with a gentle hush, bouncing him ever so gently, turning away from the hall.

An empty cry came out of the infant you cradled, one that made you laugh. “I know, lovie,” you breathed. “I feel the same way.”

Your eyes landed on a set of photos on the wall in a sleek black frame. Both photos, top and bottom, were from you and Taehyun’s first day of high school. Joy took your picture before you got on the bus in the morning, and then again when you got home.

In the photo on top you were both dressed nice and your hair was done. Taehyun, as skinny as a rail, was covered in black with a red checkered flannel around his shoulders, and you were in a yellow sundress. You would’ve never worn it if Taehyun didn’t tell you it made you look pretty. Hanging around your bedroom door all morning while you tried to put on a little makeup that Joy had given you, he wouldn’t leave you alone.

At that point, freshman year of high school, your families had been living together for four years. Jin and Joy weren’t married yet, you can still hear the distant jokes they’d make about living in sin.

The bottom photo was hysterical, it honestly made you smile. Standing out front on the sidewalk both you and Taehyun struck funny poses, and on the bus ride home, you’d almost switched outfits. His flannel was tied around your waist, and the two of you tried to switch shoes even though his feet were three sizes bigger than yours. Every piece of jewelry you had put on that morning was given to him, which would mark this as the day that Jin and Joy found out he had pierced his ears himself, without your help, of course.

Neither your mother nor his father, still to this day, ever found out that sometime that July the two of you went full Parent Trap and stabbed needles through his earlobes in the bathroom you shared. Lindsay Lohan really made it seem entirely too easy, it took three tries to get the needle through his skin. Practice makes perfect though, because when you were eighteen you pierced each other's second and third holes in that bathroom at four in the morning after downing half of Joys Svedka. You made sure to fill it up with water before she and Jin came home from their second cruise of the year.

Low and behold, in true Joy fashion, she never found out.

He had three silver studs in each ear today. Two summers ago he had three silver studs in each ear. You wondered if changing the jewelry gave him the same numb feeling it gave you. He used to wear diamonds, and sometimes he’d wear hoops, or chains that hung from each piercing. Either he didn’t care to switch out the earrings now, in which case he could just take the jewelry out and let the holes close, or he cared too much, and couldn’t touch them.

Scoffing under your breath at yourself, you shake your head. Thirty-two years old and you were still wallowing in the halls of your mothers home trying to put the puzzle pieces together to figure out if Taehyun cared about you. “Grow up,” you mumbled, spinning around your heels to find your boys. They’d pull you out of this.

“Hope you aren’t talking to me,” Soobin said with a smile, turning the corner just as you were about to sprint out of the hall.

Startled, you huff a laugh and meet him at his side. “No, not you,” you said. “Myself.” Soobin poked one of Wonwoo’s hands, letting the infant latch onto it, squeezing it with might. Only your husband's eyes flickered up to question you.

“Taehyun said you needed me?”

Your face twisted in confusion. “What?”

Thinning his lips into a line, Soobin bobbed his head. “He insisted on helping bring our stuff inside, and when I refused, politely, he told me that you needed me and sent me this way.”

“He’s a jerk.”

“What?” Soobin tilted his head. “I mean- Yeah, but, what happened? Are you okay?”

The sigh you let out ended with a gravely groan. “I’m fine, Soob. I told Joy we haven’t spoken, and she went… All Joy. He’s mad I told her. Said it’s something we can’t work out, ever. Guess he sent you this way ‘cause he thinks I’ll be emotional about it.”

Soobins sparkling eyes studied your being. “Are you?”

“Do I look like I’m throwing a tantrum?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he paused, looking down at his son who was getting more vocal. “I do know you expected things to get back to normal after you saw each other, though. You wanted to talk it out.”

“I did,” you said, averting your gaze to the floor. “As normal as our normal is.”

Soobin rolled his eyes, but not to degrade you. “Yeah, babe, I wanted you guys to work this out.” Snapping your eyes to his, your lips parted in shock. It made him smirk and roll his eyes again. “As much as I… dislike…” he waved his free hand behind him, “Most of this, and what it put you through… He was your best friend. You can’t deny that.”

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered, and Soobin smized before he shook his head.

“That’s sweet,” he smiled. “But, we know that’s not true.”

Wonwoo broke out into a cry, a real one this time. Shifting him to a cradle you bounced him and hummed.

“Hungry,” you whispered to the baby. Soobin took a step closer, closing the empty space between you. “Imma go upstairs to feed him.”

Soobin smoothed a hand over yours. “Give him to me. He can have a bottle for now.” Meeting his gaze, you purse your lips. “Go make sure Taehyun didn’t let Chan and Sunoo in the snow.”

Following you out into the foyer where there were a plethora of bags and suitcases, you helped Soobin with Wonwoo’s diaper bag, a battered blue thing that had ‘C. & S.’ stitched into the material right beneath the zipper. All four of your babies have used this bag, and you intended to follow through with the tradition no matter how many times Jin and Joy tried to gift you a brand new, brand name expensive one. Neither you or your husband have gotten a glimpse of the tree yet, but you could make a huge assumption that there would be one wrapped up for you beneath those glittering branches.

Kids were messy, and baby’s were no better. Between you and Soobin, you’ve both told them that they didn’t need to give you the high end things with marked up prices that would be ruined in a few days. You were doing perfectly fine with what you had. And Wonwoo is the baby of four! Back home you had a house filled to brim with enough to have you settled for a fifth or even a sixth.

“Everything is in here, right?” Slinging the bag over Soobin’s shoulder that didn’t have an infant over it, your voice was quiet. Moving at about a mile a minute, you popped the bag open to double check your husband would have what he needed, and listened to him as he laughed.

“I packed the bag, darling, everything’s there,” he said. Looking up at him, you blinked a couple of times. “I’ll be in the kitchen feeding him, okay?” You bobbed your head, rubbing Wonwoo’s back. “I’ll also be looking for our daughter, she and Joy are very quiet.” Darting his eyes down the hall, a snicker escaped you both before he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Come find us when you grab the boys.”

A well-oiled, beautifully communicative team. Soobin truly was the greatest. Coming with so many faults and so much baggage, just look at where you are for the weekend, your husband very rarely, and almost never at all, brings you down for it. Trips like these are always a reminder that you struck gold nine years ago when you decided to take him up on that date night.

Ice cream and a movie. The simplest night, yet one you’ll cherish and remember forever. He picked you up in his used white, two door BMW, from the front porch of this very house. Knocking on the door, Jin was the one to answer. Soobin, in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, stepped up and held out his hand to shake your step-fathers. Back then he wore thick rimmed glasses, nothing like the skinny frames he wears now. They sat on the edge of his nose, and his dark bangs that used to hang in front of his face brushed right over the top of them.

He was totally boy next door, entirely pure, and all the more sweet. A gentleman, he paid for it all, he held your hand during the movie, and when he dropped you off, he walked you to the door and kissed your cheek. It wasn’t anything like you were used to, you had never, ever in your life had a date, yet alone one like Soobin. That one Friday night turned into every Friday night, and four kids later here you were.

Tugging the front door open to fetch your boys, Taehyun seemed to be walking in at the same exact time, bumping directly into you as he fumbled with the door. Nose to nose, you didn’t have a second to even see if the twins were covered in snow as they bolted over the threshold past your legs.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he muttered. His eyes darted away from yours, watching the boys fly down one of the halls, you weren’t sure which.

Still gripping the door handle, digging your fingertips into the gold, you were certain your knuckles were white. Jaw as tight as can be, you sucked in a breath, his cologne surrounding you both comforting and all the more repulsive. Centimeters between you, you wanted nothing more than to release the door and lay your palm out on the side of his face, preferably at a speed that would knock some sense into him. Though you aren’t sure for what.

Taehyun looked down at you, his round lips pursing slightly as he read your expression. A snarky breath of air came out of him as he rolled his eyes. “Give it up,” he said. There was an insatiable itch lying just beneath your skin.

“Yanno, I would, actually,” you began, your eyebrows plummeting. “But, you listened to me.”

A real smirk graced his lips, flashing you his perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Sana,” you said. Your entire being filled with glee when his cocky smile fell off his face. “What was it, two years ago? Something like that right?” He rolled his eyes again, his staple. “Someone told me that they were… happy? Was that it? That they were happy, and not exhausting themselves for love? Overworking themselves to get out of their house, to get away from their wife? To get-” “Oh my god, shut up!” Taehyun groaned, dipping his head forward.

The newfound life in his eyes you caught a glimpse of was very much real. The big, round, chocolatey brown, galaxy filled eyes were back. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed them. They were set perfectly on his face, the buttery olive color of his skin making them pop right above his sculpted nose and cheekbones. His face was slender, and a little small, but his eyes were oceans, filled with wonder. They always have been.

Boys always got the things girls didn’t, like the eyelashes, and Taehyun had plenty to spare. With each blink they fluttered, the chocolate brown turning into a daydream the longer you gazed up at him. His hardened, annoyed expression softened, and you felt yours do the same. His pink lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, his eyes flickered between yours, slowly, like they were trying to drink up this moment, as if it would never happen again.

Thirty-two looked good, the years were clearly kind to him, and you only hoped he was thinking the same. After four kids and five years of sleepless nights, you weren’t feeling your best. Not only that, you were also six months postpartum, wearing clothes that barely hugged your figure so you’d be comfortable. After those four kids, comfort had become a priority.

Taehyun was single now, he had bulked up, and you figured out in these two minutes that he colored his hair lighter on purpose. He looked good. He looked nice. He looked like himself. His entire fit tumbled you back almost twelve years, before Sana, before kids, before everything went to shit. It left you unsettled, but it also wrapped around you with warmth, and safety. Normal, and happy, and comforting, like home should be.

A pout snuck onto your lips, one that Taehyun shifted his gaze toward. “Tae,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“No, no, no, you’re gonna cry,” he shook his head the slightest. “Don’t cry.”

“But I will,” you pressed your lips together tight after the words left you. “Talk to me. Please. Especially now, please.”

A sharp breath shot through him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from yours. “I don’t know if I can handle going there again.” His voice was a whisper.

“We don’t have to,” your eyebrows flipped over, pleading with him. Now he looked away, toward the floor between you. “We can start from two years ago, or we can start over, we can be brand new, we can be…” you gulped, “Brother and sister.”

His shoulders shot back as he stood up straight and plastered the cocky smirk back on his lips. “You really think we can do that?”

Nodding, you tried to smile, but it wouldn’t work. “I do,” you lied to keep him talking. Taehyun shrugged and dropped his smug act that never stood a chance around you, you weren’t even sure why he still tried. “For the sake of our families and our futures, I do.” His eyes melted into yours. The lump lodged in your throat forced a tiny tear out of the corner of your eye. “You were my best friend, Tae.”

“We were codependent and stupid,” he sighed. The words shoved a knife into your gut.

“I don’t disagree,” you said to his surprise. “Codependent and stupid. But, you were my best friend. I miss you.”

Hesitating, Taehyun danced his eyes all around your face, studying you, taking you in. With a breath and a heavy exhale, he nodded, swallowing hard. “I miss you, too.”

“Not lying?”

He shook his head. “Not lying.”

A smile lit up your face. “Joy still has those pictures of us on the wall, the ones from freshman year?”

“The clothes switch?” You both said at the same time and laughed.

“Oh god, they couldn’t take us anywhere,” Taehyun said.

“Menaces, both of us,” you giggled.

Taehyun quirked a brow. “I think I still have those earrings, the ones you had on that day.”

“Now you’re lying, there’s no way you have the-”

“Dangly silver diamonds Joy gave me for our middle school graduation.”

“Dangly silver diamonds Joy gave you for our middle school graduation.”

The both of you screwed your mouths shut and held in a laugh. Taehyun's cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink, and it wasn’t from the open door you were both still standing in. Peeking at the floor like a flustered teenager, he licked his lips and huffed a laugh.

“See,” you said, getting his attention. “We keep talking at the same time, that’s something siblings do, right?”

Taehyun cringed, the physical reaction he had to the words was the same as you.

“That’s…” he began, curling his lip.

“Weird?” you added quietly, and he nodded. “Agreed. I hate it.”

“Friends?” he offered, his voice jumping up at the end, preparing himself for you to hate it. “Is that… less weird?”

“Friends,” you smiled, bouncing your knees once to signify your delight. It was going to have to be something you both worked for, but it was better than nothing. “Thank you.” Reaching between you, you rested your hand on his arm and tried to not express your shock over the muscles that rippled beneath your touch.

Taehyun glanced at your fingers for a moment, then he smiled and gave his full attention back to you. Lifting a hand, he brushed it over your cheek and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers dance over the earrings you chose to wear. Breath hitching in your throat, your grip tensed on his arm, squeezing accidentally. Time slowed, and for a moment you forgot where you were. A screech from the kitchen from one of your kids brought you back, and both of your hands dropped in an instant. Neither of you had anything to say.

“No wonder it’s freezing!” Joy’s voice carried from around the corner where she appeared from. Whipping yourself around, jumping away from Taehyun, you smiled and took a deep breath. “Shut the damn door!” She was kidless with one arm tucked under the other.

“Sorry,” you said in a hurry, bringing yourself closer to her so that Taehyun could follow orders and push the door shut, clicking the lock into place. Joy took her hands to your shoulders and rubbed your arms, flashing you a curious brow. “We brought the house with us, clearly.” Peeking over your shoulder, you meet Taehyun’s eyes, watching you.

Joy looked from Taehyun, to you, then back to Taehyun. “Did we make up?” She forced her serious tone out of the depths of where she locked away all her parenting skills. Both you and Taehyun gave her a nod.

“All good, Mom,” you said. “Can I help you with dinner? Are we getting anything started yet?”

Joy pressed a hand to your cheek, right where Taehyun’s had been. “Jin’s at the store picking up a couple of last minute things, when he gets back we’ll really get started.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s got my kids,” Taehyun snickered, waltzing past the two of you toward the kitchen.

“Does he?!” Joy shouted. “This whole time I thought they were getting into trouble somewhere up there!” She gestured to the floor above her.

Taehyun paused beside her and grabbed her shoulder. “Joy, be honest, you never knew what happened up there.”

“I knew enough, okay?” Defending herself, she held up a hand. “You were two teenagers going through everything at the same exact time, I was not going to get in your way! I was a teenager before, okay? I hated when my mother was in my space. When we moved into this house you both got the second floor for a reason!”

“A+ parenting, Joy,” Taehyun nodded, and you did your best to swallow a giggle.

Joy groaned. “Come on you two, I’ve been up there. I wasn’t a neglectful mother! Taehyun, we helped you move out, I saw the walls and the carpets in both your rooms, and the tile in the bathroom. You were kids, you were stupid, but you had your own space and it made you two closer than ever, and as a mother, I couldn’t ask for more.”

Tiny feet running down the hall stole everyone's attention. Chan and Sunoo, at the speed of light, wearing wicked smiles, were flying toward the other end of the hall. As they passed by the three of you, Sunoo latched onto Taehyun's legs, his short arms just making it around them.

“Whoa!” Taehyun shouted, gripping the little one by the back to make sure he wouldn’t fall, his voice signaling to Chan that his brother had stopped shorthand.

“What the heck are you two doing?” You watched Chan turn around and wrap himself around Taehyun's other leg, his arms just barely reaching his brother's shoulders. The twins laughed maniacally, then gazed up at Taehyun.

“We was racing, Mom!” Chan said, sucking down deep breaths.

“We were racing,” Taehyun corrected.

Sunoo’s smile was so wide it almost hid the tired in his eyes. The only one out of four to not have a car nap. “We raced to Uncle Taehyun! I won!”

Joy planted a hand over heart. “How sweet,” she said, giving you a look.

Chan leapt away from his uncle and crossed his arms over his tucked in button down. Dark brows lowered furiously, your five year old scolded his copy. “We was not, Sunoo!” A little performer, Chan stomped a foot. “You said the hallway!”

“We were not, Chan,” Taehyun corrected him again. He crouched down and wrapped an arm around Sunoo, then motioned for Chan to join him in his other one. “Besides, it doesn't matter who won, right?” Sunoo opened his mouth to object, but Taehyun moved right along. “It’s Christmas, and Santa comes tonight.” The boy's eyes shot open wide, and you and Joy laughed quietly.

“He’s so good with them,” Joy said to you under her breath.

“We can’t be mad at each other when Santa’s coming, can we?!” Taehyun asked, and both boys shook their heads. “Right,” he grinned, the sight making your stomach flip. “Now, I say we go upstairs and look for something to do while we wait for Rosie and Minho to come back and play. Sounds good?”

“Good!” Sunoo and Chan shouted.

“Yanno, it’s uncanny,” Joy said as she took a step backward toward the kitchen. You both watched Taehyun take a twin with each hand and start for the stairs on the opposite end of the house. “They share no relation, but those boys have his damn eyes.” Shooting you a smile like she didn’t just send your stomach plummeting for the floor, she turned around for the kitchen and shouted, “Soobin, I want my grandson! Give him up!”

Arms slung around Soobin’s shoulders where he sat at the kitchen table, you rested your chin on the top of his head, watching Joy rock Wonwoo in her arms. The chiffon fabric that hung from her arms brushed over his face occasionally, making him giggle, and in return, making everyone else giggle. Still swaddled in his teddy bear onesie, Wonwoo stared at his grandmother in awe, his stubby fingers trying to reach for her shiny jewelry.

“I love it when they can’t run away,” Joy cooed, nuzzling her nose on Wonwoo’s. “In a couple months he’ll be on the move, then you won’t be able to do this anymore.”

“Ouch, okay, don’t do that to me,” you said, and Soobin agreed.

“That’s our baby,” Soobin frowned. “Please don’t rush it.”

Joy smiled toward you two, nodding to Mina who was cuddled up on Soobins lap. Her thumb was in her mouth and her eyes were halfway shut. She was completely dead weight, Soobin already tried to move her. She wouldn’t budge.

“Least that one’s still cuddly,” she said. Blowing a raspberry, you glanced down at your daughter. “Your only girl… Consider another.” Eyes boggling out of your head, you and Soobin both, you laughed and held each other tighter. Soobin had his hand wrapped around one of your wrists.

“Four seems like quite enough, Joy,” Soobin said. Joy raised her eyebrows, shrugged, and cooed down at Wonwoo. “We didn’t even know that one was coming!”

Joy’s attention shot up. “Exactly,” she smized. “It could happen again!”

You and Soobin shared a quick look. “Mm,” you hummed. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t be so silly,” Joy said to the baby, directed at you. “Anything can happen, anything is possible… Right, Wonwoo?” Your son cooed at his grandmother. “That’s right, sweetie pie.”

Watching your mother cradle the baby and talk about having more kids as if it were nothing but a past time nauseated you. Here, in a kitchen that’s been redone oodles of times, in a house that was oodles of dollars you cannot even begin to comprehend, with a woman who had one daughter with a man she was married to for not even a year.

Dating men on and off throughout your childhood before she met Jin, you encountered a lot of strange and unusual people who somehow, conveniently, always had money. They would spoil your mother and buy her things she didn’t need that she’d give to you. Plenty of them offered her marriage, but she refused for whatever good reason she had in her materialistic mind.

It wasn’t that she was a bad mother, she didn’t neglect you, or brush you off, or set you aside… It was more of the fact that she was rarely present, and if she was present, she wasn’t paying attention.

Most of the men she dealt with were way older than her and typically kidless. If they did have kids, they were old enough to be out of the picture without having to be around to see their father mess around with a gold digger single mother. You really don’t know how she did it, maintaining multiple relationships at once without them figuring each other out. But, everything changed when she met Jin. Taehyun’s father.

Neither of you liked to say it was your fault they ended up together, but ultimately it was your fault that they ended up together. An elementary school incident that had both of your parents meeting in front of the teachers desk at the end of a long winter's day.

Taehyun had been pulling on your pigtails, and you didn’t like it very much, so you took it upon yourself to push him to the floor. When he fell he knocked over one of the toy bins, and stuffed animals poured out on the floor everywhere, and Taehyun saw an opportunity. He picked one up and threw it at you. Thus beginning a stuffy fight with every first grader in the class.

It took two years for them to start dating, it wasn’t official until you were in third grade and you hadn’t spoken to Taehyun in a while because you had girl friends at that point, and boys had cooties, and besides, Taehyun would always be the boy who used to pull your hair.

Joy and Jin kept a lot of things separate for a while, they didn’t let you or Taehyun see them together, interact, or just simply know if they were going out together. It was some well kept secret, one that was hidden out of sight for about a year and half, until the summer of sixth grade when they decided to buy a house and move everybody in together. Taehyun wasn’t happy. At first, neither of you were. You adjusted a lot faster, loving the big, brand new room where you’d have complete interior design control, and long halls, stretchy walls, and echoey ceilings. A touch of Joy's materialism may have rubbed off on you at some point.

The boy who now lived across the hall from you struggled for almost a year. Joy had found her perfect match, because Jin had no idea. Taehyun would spend too much time in his room blasting loud music, and shortly after living together you found out that he knew how to sneak in and out of his bedroom window, shimmying down a tree that hugged the back edge of the house. Eventually you would learn how to do that, too. And it was painful. But, it was entirely too much fun. You figured out quickly how to get friends into your rooms from that tree.

Joy was half right when she told you she didn’t neglect you, but that didn’t mean she was winning Mother Of The Year. When she held your kids and cuddled them, and kissed their noses, and gave them treats, her intentions were genuine. It healed some part of you deep down inside, while it simultaneously crushed your heart into a trillion pieces. They were getting a side of her you didn’t get.

The moment you found out you were pregnant in the upstairs bathroom of this house, not even knowing it was twins, you vowed to be the mother to them you never had. You would give your kids a beautiful life, one where they’d never have to question whether or not their parents loved them.

That’s also part of the reason why you married Soobin. He was a good man, he always has been, and he’s proven that he’s an even better father. Soobin became your peace amongst the chaos, your rock. At home, when it’s just the six of you, you’re calm, level headed, and able to think clearly thanks to your husband's guidance that took years for you to adapt to. When you’re here, at home, back in a life you were hardwired to always live, things got a little blurry.

“Do I hear Jin?” Joy glanced to the arched doorway of the kitchen, narrowing her eyes like it would help her hear better. On the opposite side of the house, away from the garage, one would think it’d be impossible to hear the doors open, but like the footsteps around the house, you were conditioned and your ears were trained to hear that sound from a mile away.

“Yeah, he’s back,” you said. Soobin laced his brows together, looking up at you. He didn’t have ears in this house like you. “I’ll go help him.”

Your husband started to stand up, gracefully sliding your daughter into your arms. “She’s about to knock out, I’ll go help him.” Wrapping your arms around Mina, the two year old buried herself in your chest, her arms clinging to the fabric of your sweater. “Baby girl needs her mom,” Soobin whispered, his lips perking up into a small smile. “I’ll have the boys come down too.”

“He’s so good with them, isn’t he, Soobin?” Joy spoke up. Your husband turned to flash your mother a grin. “Taehyun? So good with kids.” “Somebody’s got to be the fun guy, right?” Soobin half laughed, then looked at you with his lips completely flat.

“I talked to him,” you said under your breath, and Soobins eyes narrowed. “Before he took the boys upstairs, we spoke.” Peeking behind him finding Joy invested in Wonwoo, Soobin faced you completely and kissed your cheek.

“It’s going to be okay,” he mumbled, though it sounded more like a question.

Nodding fast, you smiled. “It’s gonna be okay.”

With a gentle squeeze to your shoulder, Soobin left the kitchen, leaving you with your mother and your babies. Taking the seat your husband was just in, you adjusted Mina so she was comfy, and kissed the top of her head. Her forehead was warm and her cheeks were rosy.

“Mom, you have any Tylenol…” Your voice faded as you looked up, finding her staring at you with a studious look. She was focused, eyes pointed at you with an intent you couldn’t seem to read. “What now?”

Joy shook her head, dangly earrings bouncing below her ears. “Just thinking.”

“Uh oh,” you said, and she scoffed. “I’m kidding,” you dipped your chin to apologize, “What’re you thinking about?”

Joy teetered her head side to side, glancing about her thirty thousand dollar kitchen. “I dunno, I’m just so happy to have you and Taehyun here, and your families.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you started to frown, and a nervousness settled into your chest, much like how it would when you were a kid and your mother put on her serious face. It was just you and her in the kitchen, there wasn’t a stray Taehyun around to save you.

“No, I am, truly,” she said. “When you both said you’d be here I couldn’t wait to have you both under one roof again, for an entire weekend. You’re both adults, you both are so busy, we haven’t gotten to be a family in a long, long time.” Joy copied your frown, averting her gaze to the table in front of her, then to your baby in her arms. “If I think about it for too long… I wonder if we’ve ever… been a family.”

“Mom,” you sang. She looked up to you and shrugged. “We’ve been a family for such a long time, you know that right? Taehyun and I were twelve when we moved here, that’s… that’s like, holy shit, that’s like twenty years.”

“Twenty years of what?” Joy asked, purely genuine. Her eyes begged yours for help. The nervousness in your chest spread to your stomach, filling your entire being with unease.

“What are you getting at, Joy?” you almost snapped.

Your mother’s bottom lip crinkled. “You didn’t know he was divorced, you haven’t spoken in two years, what kind of mother have I been? A mother should know this about her kids.”

“Technically he’s not yours,” you joked, hoping she would laugh. She did not.

“He has been for ten years through the law.”

“Yeah, but even then, we were, what? Twenty-two when you and Jin officially got married?”

Joy pressed her lips together, firm. “What do you have against us being a family?” Her voice was quiet, incredibly hushed that not even the baby’s stirred, but her tone was packed full of venom. Eyes going wide, you sat back in the chair and took a shallow breath. For a minute she stared at you. Then, she shook her head and looked down at Wonwoo who dozed off. “Why didn’t you two speak for so long?”

Rolling your eyes you held Mina closer and sighed. You’ve relived the fight you and Taehyun had at his daughter's tenth birthday party so many times, most times with Soobin when it became unbearable to stay in your head. Neither one of your parents cared, until now it seemed, but that’s how it went. Selective parenting, like she was playing make believe.

“I told him…” You weren’t sure how to begin. It might be a whole lot better if you just ripped off the bandaid. “I told him to divorce her.”

Joy's expression went unchanged. “Why would you… How could you even say those words?”

“Mom, do you remember how he used to be? Sure, he looks fantastic now, but two, three years ago? He was miserable!” Your volume had raised, Mina shifted on your lap.

“They were a family.” “She was using him for his money, Mom, come on,” you spat back, feeling your veins fill with fire. “You and this preconceived idea of family. We could all see what she was doing to him, I’m shocked she didn’t force five more fuckin’ kids out of him.”

“He loves those kids.”

Your eyes were ready to roll out of your head, the amount of times they’ve spun already. “Of course he does, he’s a great father. He could have a billion of them and he’d love them all the same. That doesn’t mean he was happy with Sana, though.” Joy’s glare had softened at some point. “I was the only one who cared enough to speak up, to help him realize, wake him up! And it made him hate me.”

Joy nodded, pursing her lips. “Is that the only reason?”

“Yes, Joy, it is,” you said, keeping your eyes locked on hers. Not letting her see through the half lie you forced past your lips.

“Okay,” she said. “But, you guys talked it out.”

“Somewhat.”

A small nod was all she could give you before two bodies strolled into the kitchen, all carrying shopping bags.

“We’re back!” An enthusiastic, young, happy voice filled the air. Turning to the commotion, you gave the young boy who looked back at you a huge smile. Dark hair and round brown eyes, Minho was the spitting image of his father. His smile was a bit like his mothers, smaller and poutier, but the rest of him was straight Taehyun.

Dressing like him too, the eight year old wore black ripped jeans and an oversized grey hoodie with a band you used to know on the front. Converse high tops were laced on his feet and a black beanie covered his head. He looked at you from beneath his bangs that almost covered his eyes. He and Taehyun both needed haircuts.

“Hi, Minho,” you said softly.

The boy gave you a small wave. “Hi. Is that Mina?” He pointed to the baby on your lap, and you frowned.

“It is,” you said. “She’s not feeling good.”

“Don’t let her near me,” a shrill, higher pitched voice said from behind the kitchen island. Shifting your eyes over to the twelve year old in wedged chelsea boots, you flashed her your best smile.

“Don’t worry, Rosie,” you breathed. “It’s just a little cold.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she sneered, walking over to Joy, letting you get a glimpse of what she was wearing for the day. You wanted to gasp in disbelief. “Mom’s taking me to New York City when we leave here, I cannot get sick.”

The twelve year old wore an emerald green silk dress that wrapped around her neck and covered her left arm, leaving the right one exposed to the winter air. The dress stopped above her knees. On her legs she wore shimmering black stockings that went into her, you guessed it right, three inch high black boots that lived at her ankle. Silver bracelets jingled on her right wrist, and diamonds were in her ears. She flashed them to you whenever she swung her shoulder length black hair back and forth.

Rosie leaned against Joy, who wrapped her arm around her back, and looked down at Wonwoo. “Who’s baby?”

Joy laughed, but you wanted to scream.

“Your aunt’s, silly,” Joy said to her. “They had another baby, her and Soobin.”

Rosie was unimpressed. “Do you guys ever stop doing it?” She looked at you with her nose turned up. You could’ve choked on air at her words. If Soobin were in the room he’d be throwing a fit. Joy, no surprise, laughed at her granddaughter.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Minho asked, stepping closer to you curiously. He went from watching Mina, to watching you, to looking for Wonwoo. Giving him your full attention, turning away from the Sana clone at the other end of the table, you smiled.

“A boy, his name is Wonwoo,” you said. Minho shared your smile and nodded, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Weird name,” Rosie muttered. “Where’s my dad?”

“Upstairs with Chan and Sunoo, your Uncle Soobin just went looking for them,” Joy said. “Why don’t you go find them and tell them we’re starting dinner.” Rosie groaned, tipping her head backward, and strutted off, boots clacking on the floor with every step.

“I don’t wanna cook. Mom doesn’t make me cook,” her voice faded away as she entered the hall.

Shooting your mother a look she didn’t share with you, you said, “She’s… something.”

“She’s adjusting.” Joy’s whisper was a tad harsh, nicking your skin with a bite.

“Did Mina have to take medicine?” Minho asked, the sweet boy thankfully taking your attention. “My dad makes me drink this gross stuff when I have a cold.” The boy climbed into the chair next to you and watched his sleeping cousin.

“She didn’t yet, I wasn’t sure she’d need any, but now I’m thinking that she does. What gross stuff does he make you drink?” Crinkling your nose, you made him giggle.

“It’s orange, and it says it tastes like honey, but I don’t think it does,” Minho made a face and shook his head. “He calls it-”

“Bee Juice,” you said.

“Yeah!” Minho’s face lit up. “How did you know that?”

“We used to drink that when we were sick,” you said, your smile growing as you watched him settle in to listen to your story. “This one time, we were around Rosies’ age, I was really sick, and I refused to take any kind of medicine to help me feel better. Your dad tried to help me, and he was making all these funny jokes about it. There’s bees on the bottle right?” Minho nodded. “He called it Bee Juice, and for some reason that made me take it, and it made it taste good.”

“That’s funny,” Minho said. “Mina needs Bee Juice. I know my dad has some, he brought it with him.”

Your smile faltered. “He did?”

“Yeah, he says he keeps it just in case. Do you want me to tell him Mina needs it?”

“No, Minho, that’s okay,” you said. “I can ask him later.”

“Ask him now,” Joy said, gesturing to the doorway.

The kitchen filled with shouts, laughter and life. Taehyun barreled through the doorway with Sunoo on his back and three shopping bags in his hands. Chan hurried beside him, holding a quarter gallon of milk in his hands.

“We’ve got it,” Sunoo announced to the room, acquiring a round of laughter. “No one worry.”

Soobin trailed behind him, chatting with Jin who had Rosie attached to his side. Both adults had bags in their hands as well, lifting them onto the island Taehyun sat Sunoo on. Deep in conversation, probably something about work, Jin still made a move to hug you tight as best as he could without disturbing Mina, then went back to Soobin, helping him unload some of the plastic bags.

Rosie wandered to the table with her nose now in a cell phone that had a clear hot pink case with a polaroid photo shoved in the back of some celebrity she probably loved. Her glossed lips were pulled into a frown as she tapped away at the screen furiously.

After sliding the milk onto the counter carefully, Chan came to your side and peeked over your arm to check on his sister. “She is asleep?”

“She is,” you said softly. “Were you worried about her?”

Chan nodded. “She will be okay for Santa, right?”

“Santa!?” Rosie roared from her seat.

You shut her down quickly with a glare, not caring if Sana heard about it, then turned to your son. “She’ll be okay, love, I promise.”

“Okay, mom,” Chan said.

“Did you see Minho? Did you say hi?”

Chan looked to his right and smiled something small, feeling shy beside an unfamiliar face. The last time they saw each other Minho was six, and the twins were three. Minho probably remembered them, but your boys were just becoming aware of their own arms at the time, you weren’t sure they’d remember.

“Are you Chan or Sunoo?” Minho asked, looking between the twin in front of him and the twin crawling on top of the counter in front of his own father.

Chan almost gasped and put his hands on his hips. A smirk found your lips. Drama queen incoming. “I am Chan,” the five year old said loud and clear. “That is Sunoo,” he pointed to his brother. “You can tell us a part, my favorite color is blue, and Sunoo’s favorite color is red.”

Minho laughed, looking to you for a second. “You guys look exactly alike.”

“We are twins!” Chan exclaimed, tossing his arms out to the side. “This is my sister Mina, and that is my brother Wonwoo, he is new.”

“That’s my sister, Rose,” Minho nodded to his sister who didn’t bother to look up. “We call her Rosie.”

“Rosie,” Chan whispered as if he was mentally logging her name.

“She’s mean,” Minho admitted, and Chan gasped. You held yours back, waiting for him to say more.

“Why is she mean?” Chan’s eyebrows dropped low.

Minho shrugged. “She just is. Don’t talk to her.”

Leaning toward the two boys, you whispered, “I second that. Don’t talk to her.” Chan smiled, and Minho laughed, seeming surprised. Winking at him, he tried to give one back, the two of you solidifying some sort of alliance in this moment, though your aversion stemmed from your resentment for Sana.

“Minnie!” Taehyun shouted, rounding the kitchen counters to hurry over to his son. Throwing his arms around the boy's shoulders, he squeezed him tight and shook his side to side, pressing kisses to his cheek. His boy laughed, trying to shy away from him, but it was clear that he loved it. “Were you good for your grandpa?”

“Yeah,” Minho said, looking up at Taehyun.

“‘Course you were,” he grinned, then glanced to his daughter. “Rosie?”

“Hm?” She didn’t take her eyes off her phone screen. Taehyun didn’t lose his smile. He didn’t have to for you to see the disappointment within him.

“Were you good for Grandpa Jin?” he asked her.

Rosie glared at her father, holding eye contact for a few seconds. She didn’t say a word, and she didn’t need to. When she focused back down on her phone, Minho, still in Taehyun’s arms, looked at you.

“See? Mean,” he said.

Taehyun clicked his tongue. “Don’t talk about your sister like that. One day she could be all you have.” Your cheeks flushed as he glanced to you. Pressing a kiss to his son's head, he stood up and attended to your son calling his name from the kitchen counter.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” His silvery hair bounced as he rushed. Gathering Sunoo in his arms he twirled once and set him on the ground. Your five year olds giggle sounded through the kitchen, standing out amongst the other chatter.

Joy had left her seat, and Wonwoo was in Soobin’s arms now, still snoozing. This ambiance was the same as the one from home, that little boy could sleep through it all. Your husband rocked the baby while he bounced his knees, still deep in conversation with Jin. Those two have gotten along since the very first day Soobin showed up at the front door.

Putting away groceries, Joy had acquired Taehyun’s help, who had recruited Sunoo. The little one puttered around and did his absolute best to follow directions. Chan was asking Minho questions, ones you couldn’t make out over the noise, and Rosie was unbothered, tapping away at her phone.

On your lap Mina moved, her rosy cheeks looking up to find you. A soft, “Mama,” escaped her, and you both pouted.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” you whispered, kissing her head gently. “We brought you here when you don’t feel well, that’s so unfair.” Across the kitchen you caught Soobin’s eye, your husband leaning against the counter. When you met his gaze he gave you a sympathetic smile. Pushing your chair back, you let Chan know where you were going as he turned to look at you, and laughed as he climbed into the vacant chair at lightning speed. Minho grabbed the bottom of it and pulled it closer to him, the two chatting away.

“Those two were fast friends,” Soobin said when you reached his side, nodding at your son and his cousin. Jin joined Joy, Taehyun and Sunoo in the unloading of the groceries and the prep for dinner. Looking back at the kids, Minho had his phone out now and was showing Chan something that had him giggling. “Should I go see what they’re looking at?”

“No,” you said a little too fast for Soobin’s liking. Flashing him a soft gaze, you smiled. “They both tell us everything, you know that. Besides, Chan’s a rule follower. I guarantee you he’ll have parental locks on both those kids’ phones by the end of this weekend.”

Soobin chuckled, shaking his head. “Our kids aren’t getting phones till they're thirty.”

“Agreed,” you said. “I find it a little crazy Minho has one at eight.”

Soobin hummed, then said, “I mean it makes sense.”

“How?” you scoffed.

“Their parents are divorced,” he nearly mumbled, shooting you a look.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second. “Right. Joy was just blaming me for ruining their lives, how could I forget.”

Though your sarcasm was evident, Soobin’s eyes went wild. “What are you talking about?”

“Rosie’s attitude, toward everyone apparently,” you began, scanning the kitchen. “I’m sure somethings going on with Minho, Taehyun may not be as well as I thought he was, and it’s all my fault, all of it. I told her what I said to him.”

Something of a groan came from Soobins chest. “None of it is your fault, don’t let her do that to you.” His hardened, protective glare was coming out. It made you smile. “He made his choice, he did that to his family. And as for Rosie?” He widened his eyes. “Full blame is on Sana. I feel like she’s here.”

“Hang on! I left it upstairs, gimme a minute, I’ll be right back,” Taehyuns voice echoed to his family as he rushed by you and Soobin into the hall.

Watching him fly by, you turned to Soobin and said, “Minho told me Taehyun’s got cough medicine.”

“Oh?” Soobin raised a brow.

“Mhm,” you gritted your teeth and widened your eyes. “I’m gonna go see if Mina can take it, and try to find out why he has it.”

Soobin took a breath, appearing like he wanted to tell you not to do it. “For Mina.”

“Yes, for Mina,” you repeated. Your husband tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded slowly. “Soobin,” your tone was flat.

“I’ll have a drink ready for you when you come back, what do you want?” he asked, expertly switching the subject.

A small smile popped onto your lips, one Soobin returned. “Just a glass of water, please.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

Down the hall and up the stairs you used to run up and down as a teenager, you stared at the stretch of a corridor that had two doors on either side, two bedrooms, and a pushed back bathroom to your right on the other side of the railing. Many, many, many feet across from you was the other staircase that wound down to the first floor near the kitchen. They opened up to the living room where a fireplace and the giant TV lived, right by a little hallway that took you to a sliding glass door and spacious backyard.

The floor was wooden, like the stairs. A deep, chestnut color that matched every door in this place. There wasn’t a single window in the hall, but there was a long one in the bathroom next to the shower, and both bedrooms had three. Your bedroom was to the left. Taehyuns was to the right. Outside of your door sat most of your bags from downstairs, all of them brought up for you. Taking your time toward them in the quiet air, you let your gaze fawn over every mark on the wall, every scuff, every memory that was crammed into every inch of this second floor. It was a lot cleaner now that no one occupied this space.

Jin and Joy’s bedroom was on the first floor, they rarely had a reason to come up here.

The door to the bathroom was cracked open, the tile on the floor lit up by the sun peeking through the window curtain, illuminating the shadows of a past you seemed to be longing for.

Adjusting Mina on your front, you cradled her head and sighed. This little one was a reminder that your life had turned for the better, that the past was in the past, and that it was something you needed to leave behind, though here in this quiet hall it seemed impossible. You used to laugh until your stomach hurt, the sleepless nights up here were endless. Sneaking your friends in through Taehyun’s window, hiding bottles of drinks you shouldn’t have underneath your bed so your parents wouldn’t find them, getting so stupidly under the influence that led to hookups, and more hookups.

You were young, you were stupid, you were having fun. You weren’t knee deep in diapers, playing peek-a-boo, or worried about bills. Life was exciting, and you were as light as a feather, letting life take you where it wanted to, which most times was through the door Taehyun stepped out of now. Startling each other, you gasped, then let out a soft laugh. He had a phone in his hand and a small smile on his face.

“I didn’t even hear you come up here,” he said, taking a step toward you.

“Guess I still know how to be sneaky,” you smirked. He was enamored by it for all of two seconds, then his smile dropped as he cleared his throat. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean-“

“I know,” he nodded, then attempted another smile. It was quiet for a moment before he said, “Strange up here now.”

“Definitely,” you sighed. Taehyun peeked at his phone that vibrated twice, then looked back up at you.

“I, uh, brought up your stuff,” he gestured to your bags, “You have a lot of shit.” You both laughed.

“I have four kids,” you raised your eyebrows. “My shit has a lot of shit.”

Taehyun flashed his grin. You ignored the cartwheel in your stomach. “Congratulations, by the way,” he said. “He’s beautiful. Wonwoo.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, proud. “He was a perfect little surprise.”

“Joy told me,” he said, nodding his head.

Your eyes narrowed. “When?”

“This past summer,” his volume dropped. “We celebrated Rosie’s birthday here.”

Your heart sunk to your knees. Shaking your head, you held back a sigh. “We were here this summer, right before Wonwoo was born, I knew nothing about it.”

Taehyun shrugged. “Yeah, well…”

“You have to go past me to come here,” you said, adjusting Mina on your front once more. “Jin or Joy didn’t even tell us?!”

“I told them not to,” he admitted.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you straighten out your back and tighten your jaw.

“Are you really surprised?” Taehyun asked. “We hadn’t seen each other in forever.” He took two more steps toward you, shoving his phone in his back pocket. “The last time we spoke, you were yelling in my face.”

“I distinctly remember you yelling in my face,” you said just above a whisper, taking a step toward him. The anger you used to feel when this topic came up bubbled to the surface, simmering beneath your skin. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“You always want to talk to me,” he said. The two of you had a foot of space between you now, and you could tell you shared the rage you were feeling inside. “It took me a while to realize that you don’t know this, but when people break up they don’t do this.”

Jaw clenched, eyes as wide as the moon, you shook your head. “Do what.”

Taehyun tipped his head back and huffed a laugh, looking elsewhere for a second. “This. Talk to each other, stay involved, unless…”

“Unless what?” your voice trembled, a mere whisper.

Darting his tongue out between his lips, he swallowed hard, and muttered, “Unless they still love each other.”

“That bullshit doesn’t apply here,” you said quickly, and quietly. “This is different, we are different.”

Taehyun lowered his chin. “We are fucked up.”

Taking a long, deep breath, you took a step away from him and spun in a slow circle, collecting your thoughts and your composure. “Friends, we said we can be friends.” Facing him, his eyes were solemn.

“Yeah, and be honest with me now that shock of seeing each other is gone,” he said. “You really think we can do that?”

A piece of you needed to make it work. Standing up here in this hallway now with him, coming to the full realization that he used to be the only stable thing in your life, you needed to make it work. He was your best friend, your other half, your partner in crime. Home, he was home.

“I said it downstairs, we can work for it,” you said. “I want you in my life, Taehyun. I need you in my life. We’re… family. I want my kids to know you, I want our kids to grow up together. Life feels right when we’re in a good place, when there isn’t so much space between us.”

“And what happens when that space gets too small?” Taehyun was a rock, eyes locked on yours as you spoke.

“It won’t,” you exhaled heavily, letting your knees give a bit. “We can-”

“It will,” Taehyun cut you off, closing the space between you completely. “It always does. It happened six years ago, it will happen again.” His tone was rough, but it didn’t correlate with the way he was gazing down at you. “Maybe you can pretend that we can try to be friends. But… I got a divorce ‘cause a girl I love helped me realize I was killing myself. And she was the only one who cared. For twenty years… you’re the only one who cared. You still are, and it hurts like hell.”

“Taehyun…”

“I told you I didn’t wanna go here,” he snickered, shaking his head. “Stupid of me to think that we could avoid it.” He stepped away from you, heading towards the staircase behind you. The loss of his warmth in front of you was disappointing. Turning around, cradling your daughter, you stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Bee Juice,” you said. He peered over his shoulder with one hand on the railing.

“What?”

“Bee Juice,” you nodded. “Mina’s sick, I didn’t bring anything with me. Do you think Joy has something?” Taehyuns eyes drew up and down your body, ending on the little one latched to your front.

“Um, I dunno,” he said. “I might? Minho was sick a little while ago when he was with Sana, lemme see if I brought anything with me.” When he walked by you he didn’t bother to look at you. Walking straight into his old bedroom, he left the door ajar. Unsure whether or not it was an invitation to follow him, you took a few timid steps into the doorway and felt every joint in your body tighten at the sight of his walls.

Posters, polaroid pictures and flags covered the dark grey paint, the artwork spilling onto the ceiling as well. His king sized bed was shoved into the far left corner, with what looked like a hundred pillows tossed onto the top. The comforter was still black, and fluffy. Your fingers can feel the softness without having to touch it.

A nightstand that once was messy and littered with life, was clean and housed a stack of three books he’d read religiously throughout the year, every year, and a lamp without a shade. There was a drawer on it that was all banged up, and you wondered if it was still full of things it shouldn’t be full of. Plenty of late nights were spent rummaging through the drawer in the dark, the light of the moon guiding you both through your bad decisions.

The dressers on the opposite wall were the same, and the walk in closet still had mirrors for doors. It was as if the years had been preserved, and this was a time capsule of beautiful mistakes you were sentenced for life to remember.

Taehyun rummaged through a suitcase at the end of his bed. He side eyed you as you walked in the door. You didn’t dare take a step closer to him or offer him help, because low and behold, he found what he was looking for, and more. As he pulled the orange bottle of Dayquil out of his bag, a small, round black bottle, one that photographers used for film, rolled out onto the floor and rattled loud. You both looked at it, then you looked at him before he grew the balls to look up too.

“Taehyun.”

“I don’t take them,” he muttered, looking up with only his eyes. “It’s been years, I swear. Even this,” he held up the bottle of cough medicine, “Nothing.”

Bee Juice was two words you weren’t expecting to hear this weekend. They were two words you hadn’t heard in a long, long time. In fact, the last time you even said them was probably in here in his room, with two other friends who’d join in on figuring out how much of the shit you can drink before you make yourselves sick. It was the type of high you’d never want to experience ever again. Just the thought of it turned your stomach. Taehyun was the only one to stick with it out of the four of you, the rest of you turned to other things, other drugs, or simply drinking, but he’d put that garbage in anything and everything.

Knowing he had the bottle on him made you nervous. Throughout his marriage you knew he wasn’t completely sober, he’d never grown out of that part of his life, he’d use it to cope. With how his marriage began, he was a child having a child, he became incredibly dependent on both bottles that came out of his bag.

“Why do you have it all with you?” you asked softly, hoping he’d talk it out.

Picking the bottle of pills off the floor he tossed them back into his suitcase and rubbed his forehead, his nervous eyes glancing to you a couple of times. “I don’t… I can’t explain it.”

“Try,” you said, taking a step toward him.

“I guess I just… I feel better, knowing it’s here, yanno?” Raking a hand through his hair exposing his forehead, he shrugged. “I don’t take any of it, but it’s here.” He faced you. “I’ve been sober for over a year, since I decided to leave her. I haven’t taken anything, I haven’t had a drink, I haven’t smoked anything.”

“I’m sober too,” you nodded, and watched as relief flooded his being. “It would be… six years.” Taehyun furrowed his brow. “But, it’s two, almost three.”

After a gulp Taehyun asked, “Don’t tell me… After we…”

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’ and shot him a sarcastic smile. “It was just a… bottle, maybe.” Taehyun shook his head. “And, yanno, the more I think about it, it should really be nine years, but…”

“Six years ago we were getting fucked up at Beomgyu’s,” he said. One of the old friends you shared. He was at Rosie’s tenth birthday two years ago, but you hadn’t seen him since. The other friend was Yeonjun. He’s been off the grid since you were twenty-one. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He shrugged again. “All of that was my fault.”

Scoffing, you walked further into his bedroom. “Taehyun, it was my choice to do it. You didn’t put the drugs in me.”

“Sometimes I did.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “‘Cause I told you to.” Approaching his side slowly, you took the bottle from him and retreated a couple steps. “I’m gonna believe you, but only because you look good, Tae.”

“Thanks, Baby,” he whispered with a smirk.

“If Soobin hears you say that he’ll lose his mind,” you warned.

Throwing his hands out to the side, Taehyun audibly expressed his frustration. “That’s been your name since we were fifteen!”

“Yeah, when we started sleeping in the same bed,” you widened your eyes. Holding up the bottle, you thanked him and sulked into the hall, pausing to process… all of that.

You could hear him zipping up the suitcase, putting it back where he’d found it. Walking across the hall, wanting to avoid him when he left his bedroom, you open your door and quickly shut it behind you, propping yourself up against the wood with a breath. Bare, sage green walls glared at you from all angles. In the center of the room underneath one of the three windows was your bed, also king sized, with four different knitted blankets thrown on top joined by matching pillows. The mattress wasn’t nearly as crowded as Taehyun’s.

Two redwood nightstands were on either side of the bed, both empty. The two dressers on the opposite wall were empty as well, except for the picture frames sitting on top. Three photos. One of you, Taehyun, Yeonjun and Beomgyu at a park across town at some ungodly hour of the morning. The second was you and Taehyun, seventeen years old, with your cheeks squeezed together and your eyes crossed with your lips squished all silly. The third was you and your mother when you were just five years old, the same age as your boys. They may have learned to copy Soobins pout, but those boys were all you, and this photo was proof.

Your room was eerie compared to Taehyun’s, his for some reason had life, while yours was completely still and quiet. Laying Mina down on your bed where you used to sleep, you kiss her cheek and kneel down on the floor beside her, putting the Dayquil on the nightstand. Your two year old lifted her head and whined, holding out her arms for you.

“I’m gonna help you, Meens,” you whispered, unscrewing the top of the bottle. The smell smacked you in the face, almost making you gag. Gripping the bottle with one hand, you went to pour a little bit into the lid, but froze as the alarms went off in your brain. “What the hell,” you sighed, turning the bottle around to read it. “I can’t give you this. What am I doing?”

Mina found her thumb, shoving it in her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

Bringing the bottle to your nose, your eyes watered, and a chill ran down your spine. For a brief second you’re reminded of what it was like… How it used to be. How you’d walk by your parents totally fried, and they’d have no idea. The euphoria was so intense some nights all you could do was lay on Taehyun’s floor with your head in his lap while he and your friends listened to music you could barely make out.

You can feel his fingers running through your hair as your eyes shut, body vibrating at a frequency unknown to most, leaving you with nothing to do then hold onto him for some sort of stability. If you started to come down, when the rest of them were ready for more, you’d let Taehyun hold beneath your chin, coercing your lips apart to give you more to drink, sometimes from between his own lips.

Enchanted by the scent, lost in the memories, you didn’t even hear the bedroom door creak open.

“Babe?” Soobins voice bounced off the judgey walls. Jumping a mile, you whipped yourself around and fell onto your bottom on the floor. With half a smile on his face, you found your husband standing in the doorway holding up a box of children's Tylenol in his hand.

Catching a glimpse of the Dayquil, he took a breath and shut the door behind him, joining you at your side on the floor, tucking his long legs under him. Capping the bottle, you immediately handed it to him.

“Did you give her any of this?” he asked, making sure you were keeping your eyes on him. His tone wasn’t derogatory, but it was strict.

“No, I was just reading the label,” you said. “She can’t have it.”

Soobins nod was slow, and careful. “You know she can’t have this,” he said. “I realized what you had said after you walked away, that’s why I searched for this.” He gave the box a shake. “Jin found it in the back of their medicine cabinet.”

“Good,” you said, taking the Tylenol from him, getting the box open, taking out the bottle and the syringe it came with. “Little Miss needs it.”

Soobin glanced from the bottle in his hand, then to you. “Did you, uh… You didn’t take any of this did you?” His voice was soft, not the slightest bit accusatory.

“No.” Taking out the appropriate amount of medicine for Mina, you avoided Soobins eyes and tended to your daughter. Maneuvering the little ones thumb out of her mouth, and the syringe into it, she screwed her face up and tried to cry. “Oh, it’s gross, I know.”

Soobin put his elbows on the bed and grabbed Mina’s feet, playing with them to distract her. “She’s going to sleep for forever,” he said, then smiled as his daughter noted his presence in the room. “Hi, sweetie, you’re doing so good.” Calm in seconds, Mina focused on her father and swallowed the medicine, throwing her thumb back in her mouth as soon as she was finished.

“See?” you sneered. “A brat for me, an angel for you.” Thrusting the bottle back in the box, you accidentally tossed it onto Soobins lap. “Our kids hate me.”

“First of all,” Soobin eyed you, laying the box on the bed after he picked it up reluctantly. “She’s sick. She’s going to be a brat, she doesn’t know how to act. Second of all, our kids don’t hate you.” Studying you, you could tell he couldn’t place whether or not your behavior was purely satirical.

“They don’t listen to me,” you whispered. “They listen to you. I’m there to give them what they need, but they look up to you. You can handle them no matter what decibel they’re at. I can’t.”

After a glance to Mina who had dozed off, Soobin reached for one of your hands. “Where is this coming from?”

A shrug of your shoulders wasn’t enough to appease him.

“Talk to me.” His voice dropped a couple octaves. Another shrug.

“I just…” Vaguely gesturing around your room, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. How were you supposed to tell your husband that the ghosts of your past plastered in these walls haunted you to your very core?

What were you supposed to tell him? That a piece of you was still yearning to live the life you thought you were supposed to live? That you loved the boy across the hall, but you were both destined to live confined to the chains your mother loved to call family. That if nine years ago, Taehyun hadn’t dropped a lit match on top of your relationship doused in kerosene, everything would be perfect.

“Listen,” Soobin started softly, as if he read your inner turmoil on your forehead. “I know this is hard. I know it’s a lot. You’re doing a great job, being here, dealing with them all. You and Taehyun, you’re speaking, that’s what we wanted.”

“Soob, we’ve said so much,” you whispered, feeling your eyes well up with tears. “And I feel like it hasn’t been enough.”

“Sweetie, I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough.” Dragging his thumb over the back of your hand, Soobin bit his lip. “You guys have years, upon years, and a history so deep I don’t think you and I will ever share.”

“Don’t say that,” you cried, sniffling, crawling into his arms. Sitting in his lap, he wrapped his arms around your middle and placed his chin on your head. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, still somehow level headed as ever. “I knew exactly what I was getting into when I asked that sleepless, hungover girl out on a date. Walking home with Beomgyu? From…”

“Oh god,” you groaned. “His brother's house.”

“Mm,” Soobin hummed, the memory a happy one for him, clearly. “You were beautiful. I always thought you were. Smudged mascara and all.” He got you to laugh, and for him that was all he needed. “I knew who you were, I knew what you did, I knew who you did, even though everyone else thought it was just Beomgyu.”

You picked your head up, eyebrows as low as they could be. “That is not when you knew.”

Soobin wiped a finger under one of your eyes, fixing the smudged mascara he apparently loved so much. “That is when I knew,” he nodded, letting a finger drag over your lips. “You get this… look in your eye when you see him. Still do.”

“I love you.” His smile grew from your whisper.

“I know,” he crooned. “I love you, too. So much. And so do our kids.” Pausing to nibble his lip like he was, he bobbed his head and whispered, “Work through what you’ve got to work through this weekend, but don’t make me look like an idiot.”

“Again,” you added, sensing he wanted to tack the word on to the end of his lament.

Six years ago, amidst what you called your gap year with Soobin, when the two of you took a break to cool off, to see if this was what you both wanted for yourselves. Soobin wanted to get married. You didn’t feel quite ready yet. Soobin knew where your head was stuck, so he unofficially set you free to sort out your thoughts.

It wasn’t a break up, the two of you didn’t part ways completely, but part of you wishes you had so you could’ve avoided the heartbreak surrounding Soobin when you told him what you ran back to, and where you had been. That winter was fuzzy, one you couldn’t piece together if it weren’t for Soobin’s ingenious memory. A few months later you were engaged, and pregnant, and married a month or so after that. You understood Soobin’s heart and his love for you and your family, but deciding to marry you was one thing he did that you couldn’t understand why.

“I wasn’t even going that far,” Soobin smirked. “But, thanks for letting me know I don’t have to worry about that.”

“You don’t,” you said. “I just want us in a good, decent place where we won’t want to rip each other's heads off. We get under each other's skin too easily.”

Soobin took a deep breath and turned his attention to his sleeping daughter. Her hand had slipped out of her mouth and was laying on her belly, her lips parted with steady breaths.

“K-O,” he joked, kissing your forehead. “Shall we go make sure Wreck It Ralph and Fix It Felix are okay downstairs?”

A smile pricked your lips. “You talkin’ ‘bout our boys, or Joy and Jin?”

Dinner was ready by six. Taehyun’s kids set the table while your twins followed them around carrying the dishes for them, carefully. Joy had no issue handing your five year olds two stacks of her finest, pure white ceramic dishes with the silverware thrown on top.

Once you and Soobin rejoined the chaos, you found Taehyun had beaten you to the kitchen. While the family hustled around the tile, cooking, putting dishes together, pouring drinks, he didn’t spare you glance. He was attentive to his children and his nephews, getting his hands on Wonwoo once to pass him to Jin so Joy could assist Rosie with her cranberry juice in a wine glass. You and Soobin met eyes and held in a laugh. When Sunoo asked if he could have a fancy glass as well, Soobin placed the boy's metallic blue tumbler full of milk in his hands and told him to find his seat at the table.

A long stretch of pine by the windows on the back end of the kitchen, the table was decorated beautifully already, but with the added pizazz of the dishes, candles and steaming food, you had to admit that Joy outdid herself for another year in a row. The warmth from the oven radiated around the room, wrapping your family in a cozy haze, keeping you snug by the frosted glass of the wide paneled windows. The snow hadn’t let up yet, and the kids were giddy.

Jin took his place at the head of the table, Joy beside him and Rosie across from her. Minho hopped into the seat next to his sister, leaving a seat available for you where Sunoo refused to sit. Chan quickly swiped it from you, wanting to spend more time with his cousin, which meant you got to sit on the end, across from Taehyun.

Soobin found himself next to Joy, Sunoo wanting to sit between his father and his uncle. The grown men couldn’t refuse his offer. Noticing who you were across from, Soobin shot you a soft smile and a mere nod of his head. Truthfully, after four kids the two of you didn’t get to sit next to each other anymore anywhere. The highchair at the other end of the table next to you could attest to that. Mina, feeling a bit more up for food now that she’d taken the medicine, was already reaching for the steamed buttery carrots that sat in front of her.

“Good job everybody,” Joy beamed. “Eat, please, eat.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice!” Minho was smug, diving into one of the bowls nearby. Laughter rolled through the room, and everyone followed suit, filling their plates. It didn’t take long for ample chatter to fill the air, mostly the kids asking questions about Christmas and talking about school or the snow.

“But, I asked for a Playstation,” Minho said between bites, glancing at Chan. “Do you know what that is?” Your big eyed boy watched him in awe, shaking his head. “I’ll show you. I have almost every version, at least of the new ones. Some of them are so old.”

“You don’t have every version, Minnie,” Taehyun chuckled, sitting back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest. At the other end of the table Rosie was chatting away with her grandparents, Soobin listening in without presenting his judgment on his face.

“Yes I do, Dad,” Minho’s eyebrows shot into the sky. “Heeseung found me a PS One on eBay! He bought it for me weeks ago, it’s so cool.” Plopping a small scoop of sweet potatoes onto Mina’s plate, you glance at Taehyun who rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. “Well, I had no idea.” Chan asked Minho about the Playstation, the two boys were excited and curious. Taehyun drug his glare over toward you and blew a raspberry on his lips. It made Mina giggle.

“Heeseung?” Raising your brow, you smiled when he leaned over to your girl and blew another one, making her laugh even harder.

Taehyun sat back, satisfied his audience was entertained. “Yeah, Heeseung,” he said under his breath. Arms still folded, he shrugged. “Sana’s boyfriend.”

If you had anything in your mouth you would’ve choked, and nearly did on air. “When did that happen?” Dropping your tone to a whisper, you tried your best to keep this conversation between the two of you, unsure of how aware Joy and Jin were of the situation.

“Well, let’s see,�� his entire demeanor dropped, a glint of something heavy flashing in his eyes. “They worked together for a few years-” “Sana worked?”

Taehyun smirked. “Focus please.”

“Sorry,” you breathed a laugh, tending to your daughter who whined for her drink.

“They were working together, they both did that buying shit, yanno?” Taehyun started to talk with his hands, waving one around to piece the story together. You both ignored your boys as they informed him he used a bad word. “He was one of her closest work friends, he would be at our house from time to time to hang out, he came to all the kids birthday parties-”

“Oh my god, the stone faced babe with the nose,” you gasped, placing your chin in your hand.

Taehyun waited for you to finish. You felt your cheeks flush after realizing you had cut him off again.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear you say that,” he smiled. “Yes, him.”

“I thought he was gay.” You both spoke at once, breaking into crass laughter that triggered the table to look your way.

Joy, chewing away behind a promising grin, with bright eyes said, “See? I knew you two would be fine.”

Jin, focused on his plate, frowned. “Were we not fine?” Looking down to the other end of the table, you and Taehyun sat up straight like you’d been caught. Taehyun’s father waited for an answer, shifting his gaze between his wife and his family. “What’d I miss?”

Soobin lowered his chin and leaned into Sunoo, whispering something to him about his dinner. The five year old pouted, waving away the meat on his plate. Pressing a kiss to his son's head, Soobin took it off his plate and put it on his own.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Taehyun brushed the matter off, picking up his fork to shovel food into his mouth, hoping that’d get you two out of the hot seat. Your mother snickered, using the cloth napkin that was at every setting to wipe the corners of her mouth.

“You two are funny,” she said. Soobins eyes flickered up toward you, then quickly shot back to his son. Rosie was leaning forward, her elbows on the table, enthralled with what was about to ensue. A drama lover, just like her mother. “My love,” Joy said, turning to her husband. “They weren’t speaking for two years. I had just found out today, when the Choi’s arrived.”

“The Choi’s,” you scoffed, shaking your head. Leave it to her to address your family like you were all foreign visitors. “Mom, we can let it go. It’s not a big deal.”

“The hell it isn’t!?” Joy dropped her fork.

“Bad word!” Chan and Sunoo looked to Soobin for help, but all he could do was shake his head and quiet them down.

“Joy, really,” Taehyun added weight to his words.

“Joy this, Mom that,” she appeared ready to leap out of her chair. “Look at us! All of us here. A family.”

You snuck a glance at Taehyun who had his eyes glued to Joy. He seemed like he was sinking backward into his chair, hoping it would crumble or somehow swallow him whole, anything to get him out of this room.

“This is how it should be. Always.” Joy whipped her head toward the two of you. “You’re both so far away, I’m grateful we were able to spend this weekend together, aren’t you?” Nods of everyone's heads was enough to encourage her to go on. “I miss this, I miss you both being here, running around upstairs. Hearing you laugh, hearing you talk to each other… It feels like it was.”

Jin reached for his wife’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “We feel whole having you all here.” He made it a point to look at each of you. With another glance to Taehyun you watched him roll his eyes.

“To find out about you not talking, not seeing each other… That hurt,” Joy wore the apparent pain on her face. It made you want to laugh. “You were best friends. Every waking moment was spent together, I can’t imagine anything that would break that up.”

Swapping a glance now, Taehyun finally looking at you, you shared a deep breath.

“What would they do together?” Rosie asked, chiming in to take the attention. Joy and Jin laughed.

“Oh, they’d do everything, Rosie,” Jin smiled. “They went everywhere together, they had the same friends. You know the cabinet full of movies we keep underneath the television?” The twelve year old nodded. “It’s theirs, they collected those together and would watch them all the time.”

“We would wake up some mornings and they’d be fast asleep on the couches together,” Joy smiled at Jin, then turned to her granddaughter. “They would spend weekends in the living room with their friends if they were too bored to stay upstairs.”

Jin laughed to himself, shooting a finger in the air. “I can remember getting up for work one morning, and there were four of them knocked out at the kitchen table. Back when we had the booth seat that wrapped around the circular table?”

“Yes!” Joy clapped her hands together, like the memory was near and dear to heart, like it didn’t have you cringing and wishing they’d both shut up. “I still have that picture! They had to be around nineteen,” Joy looked at Rosie, “Our house was clearly the cool house.”

Taehyun forced air through his lips and shook his head, and you’d agree if you weren’t paralyzed in place. Thankfully your boys were occupied between Soobin and Minho, not letting any of these memories sink in.

Our house was clearly the cool house.

You wanted to scream back in her face that her house was the house with little to no supervision, and that was why you and your friends would come here to get shitfaced again and again. Her cool house taught you how to mix drinks before you were of legal age, pummeling you headfirst into blurry years you can hardly put together. Their cool house and their happy memories of you two asleep in the living room after a night of movies you’d hardly watch, the two of them completely unaware that you and Taehyun would be-

“Oh!” Joy exclaimed, knocking you from your spiraling thoughts. Her earrings swung vigorously at her ears as she bounced around, excited.

“Oh!” Mina copied her. The room was buzzing with energy, Taehyun’s kids wound up from listening to these stories, and your children messing with the food on their plates. Soobin and Taehyun were stiff, as were you, pointed gazes beckoning Joy to shut the fuck up.

“Videos!” Joy cheered, slamming her hands onto the wood edge of the table. She looked up and down the table. “We have videos,” she said, pointing to you and Taehyun, “Of you two!” Turning to Jin she gripped his wrist and shook it around. “We’ll do that thing on the TV, connect your phone to it.” Taehyun shot you a look, brows slightly concerned. Joy’s body whirled back around. “How fun to show the kids! Oh, I’ve always wanted to be this kind of family during the holidays.”

Rosie beamed with Joy, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen. She truly was a beautiful little girl underneath her wanna-be old attitude. “They did this on Fuller House at Christmas.”

Joy's hands clapped together once more, her expression falling smug. “Oh my god,” she said, looking straight at you. “We’re gonna be a Full House family.”

Stomach churning, worried about what was in those videos that probably haven’t been looked at… ever, you sat back in your chair as Joy and Rosie fell into a discussion over the difference between Full House and Fuller House. Chan asked Minho about the band on his hoodie, and Soobin listened to Sunoo talk about Fuller House too, the five year old pretending as if he knew what that was.

Watching them all move on, even Taehyun who helped Minho out with the pronunciation of the band he wore, you crossed your arms and gulped. How developed were five year old brains? Were they about to witness footage of you in your early twenties that would permanently alter how they saw their mother? Would there be something within the videos that was supposed to stay hidden, or in the past? What would it do to Soobin, to watch you at your worst, his wife, the mother of his children?

Underneath the table something tapped your ankle. Glancing to Chan, who probably kicked you, you found the boy sitting on his feet, facing his cousin. Something tapped your ankle again, then two feet encased it, pulling it away from you. Shooting a look at Taehyun, he was focused on his son. No one was paying attention, so you took a peek.

It was Taehyun, his legs quickly wrapping around your own, his smile growing as you looked back up at him. His focus was on his son thankfully, he wouldn’t get to watch your eyes bug out of your head.

“They started in the eighties technically,” Taehyun said to the boys, shamelessly rubbing his legs on yours. “Grohl didn’t join until the nineties.”

“Who is Grohl?” Chan asked, eyes narrowed and focused. Taehyun shifted his legs, crossing one over the other, his foot nudging your thigh shamelessly. “Dave Grohl,” he smiled. “He played the drums for Nirvana. He had long hair down to here,” Taehyun gestured at the length below his shoulders, “And he was so cool.” His foot traveled further up your thigh, you fought away the chill that ran down your spine.

“Wait, he was on your wall upstairs,” Chan said.

“He sure is,” Taehyun nodded. “They all are.”

Chan leaned over the table, little elbows holding him up. “Uncle Taehyun, you're so cool, too. Like Grohl.”

Taehyun flashed his grin, looking at you for a few seconds. “Yeah, I am.”

“On those videos we’ll get to see how cool he really was, right Dad?” Minho was smiling, looking from his cousin to his father, who hadn’t stopped looking at you. His gaze shifted to something of slight concern, both of you knowing what the other was thinking.

Taehyun gave his son a slight shrug. “Maybe we will.” He shot Minho a smile, and when the two cousins started to eat and talk amongst one another, the smile fell and the grip he had around your leg loosened.

“I don’t wanna watch ‘em either,” you mumbled. Taehyun shook his head, a miniscule moment only for you to see before he sighed. And it wasn’t brought up again.

“Cell phones are for big kids.”

Chan wasn’t impressed. Tiny fingers pressing into the marble of the kitchen counter, dangling backward on his heels, the five year old whined and whined. Drying the last dish that Soobin handed to you over his shoulder, he shot a look to his son, one that whipped him into shape.

“You can play with Minho’s for now, okay?” Giving him a smile, you placed the dish in a cabinet and tossed the towel onto the counter by the sink. The little one murmured his agreement, hurrying off to follow the other kids' shouts.

Soobin, after folding the towel you threw, slid his arms around your shoulders from behind, pressing a kiss to your neck, one that sent a chill down your spine. Grabbing onto his hands you peered toward him and smirked.

“Let’s skip the movies,” you whispered in the empty kitchen.

Soobin’s grin widened. “Oh, no, I think I want to see this.” With a groan you spun around in his arms, his hands falling to your waist. Cupping his cheeks, you pouted.

“Trust me, you don’t.”

“Darling, I know,” his tone was soft, gentle. “I already know what to expect. After everything, don’t you think if I had a problem I wouldn’t be standing here?”

Averting your gaze to the floor, you shrugged. “I just don’t know what’s gonna be on them, that’s all. I never really remember them having cameras around.”

Soobin took a finger to your chin, tipping it upward for him to kiss the tip of your nose. “It’s okay. Surely if it was anything too bad Jin or Joy wouldn’t show it. Or, they would’ve said something to you by now.”

“Joy’s been acting weirder than usual,” you said, dragging your thumbs along your husband's cheeks. “She’s always inappropriate, and has no filter, but… I dunno. What if watching this stuff makes her realize her daughter was fucked up almost everyday of her life since, like, high school. What if they caught us doing the dr-”

Feet scurrying in the hall stole your attention, both you and Soobin turning to the doorway in record time.

“Who was that?” You breathed. Soobins grip tightened around your waist. Shooting him a look, a wide eyed, worried look, he returned an unknowing one back. “Shit,” you sighed.

“Bad word,” Soobin whispered. For a few seconds neither of you moved, and then it was all too funny, both of you breaking out into giggles that echoed in the empty air. “Let’s go find some seats, if the little’s didn't take them all. I’ll grab the baby, I’ll meet you there.”

Wonwoo, snug in his carseat, had been snoozing on and off throughout dinner. Soobin tucked his arm beneath the handle and hoisted the carrier up, following you into the living room through an archway that was halfway down the hall toward the opposite staircase.

Inside the glorious room with the giant screen, expensive sound system and cozy grey, velvety couches, the boys had all piled up on the loveseat, the twins on either side of Minho. All three of them had kicked off their shoes, the two pairs of dress shoes flung sporadically amongst Minho’s sneakers. Rosie was in the armchair that matched the other furniture, her legs crossed delicately while she tapped away at her phone screen.

A large couch lay between the loveseat and the chair, a couch you had spent many nights on. Out of all rooms to redecorate and change again and again, you really had hopes that Joy would’ve chosen this one. The deep bluish-grey of the walls that reflected the furniture had your stomach rolling. While warm and cozy to others, this room made your blood run cold.

A square glass coffee table was in the center of the room. A vase of Christmas flowers spilled out on top of it, and books and magazines circled the sparkling vase. Crystalized, glass coasters were strategically placed over the top, with matching glasses at the bar behind the sitting area. You didn’t even need to look, you could tell exactly where each bottle of liquor lived. It never changed. For twenty years, it’s been the same. You did glance toward it as you walked in the room, and Soobin took note.

Jin and Joy stood by the television, mumbling to one another, trying to figure out how to connect their phones to the screen. The point of Joy's heels dug into the plushness of the rug beneath her feet that extended throughout the room, all the way to the bar. On her tush, staring up at her grandparents working, sat Mina. She was barefoot as well, teetering around in her socks. When she caught wind you had walked into the room she whined and started to crawl toward you.

“No walkin’, huh?” Soobin laughed from behind you as you scooped her up into your arms. “Medicine must be wearing off,” you said, kissing her cheek. Weaving around the furniture you chose to sit on the edge of the couch, letting Soobin plop down beside you, setting Wonwoo on the floor next to his feet. The infant had just opened his eyes, blinking a few times at his father.

“Hey, Soobin,” Jin began, turning around. He didn’t look up from his phone. “Think you can help me figure this out? I thought I knew how…”

“Of course,” your husband smiled, on his feet in an instant.

Wonwoo’s face scrunched up like it would before he would cry, and sure enough, he started to cry. Mina expressed her shock on her face, looking at you, then her baby brother. “Baby cry,” she said, pointing toward him. Shifting Mina to the side, you sat her down on the couch cushion she was nearly swallowed up by, then reached forward for Wonwoo.

“Get him, Mama,” Mina said quietly. The two year old was always intrigued when it came to the baby. Curious as ever, her attentive eyes studied you as you carefully placed him in your hands and lifted him out of the carseat, kissing his cheek before cradling him in your arms.

“Shut it up,” Rosie groaned from somewhere in the room you didn’t care to acknowledge, but could feel the heat in Soobin’s eyes as he shot her a glare.

Mina leaned over your arms, holding onto your bicep with all of her might, watching you bounce Wonwoo to calm him down. Her pink cheeks and glassy eyes were full of adoration. “Shhh, baby. Shhh.” Wonwoo sucked in a deep breath, quieting down at the sound of his sister's voice.

“Good job, Meens,” you gasped, smiling at her. “Say it again, tell him he’s okay.”

A wail about to escape the infant was stolen by his sister's caring words. “S’okay, baby. Shhh.” As the crying came to an end, Mina gasped and looked to you for approval. Putting one of your arms around her, you tucked her into your side and kissed her head. “Best big sister,” you said.

“Boooring,” Rosie sang. Looking over at her, she was looking back at you. Her phone was on her lap, and her chin was in her hand. For a second she appeared as her mother, sharp eyes, pursed lips and pointed cheekbones. Since she was born it was hard to believe Taehyun had a part in her procreation. For years you had a quiet, delusional, but harmless joke that Sana made Rose herself to trap Taehyun with her. Anything to ease the pain from the night you found out about her. Milliseconds away from opening your mouth, unsure of what to say to the twelve year old you used to blame for ruining your life, her father hustling into the living room took the heat off of you.

“Did I miss it?” Breathless, he glanced about the room. Finding that nothing had even happened yet, he sighed and trudged his way across the carpet.

“Daddy!” Rosie shouted, throwing her arms into the air. Taehyun beamed, a light pouring out of his heart like it was the first time the child had ever said the word. It made you wonder how often she showed him love. This was the first time today you’ve seen her give him any sort of attention.

Taehyun, holding his own arms out, rushed for his daughter and caught her in his arms as she leapt out of the chair and fell into them. She squeezed him tight, pressing her cheek into his chest with her eyes shut. The smile on his face made your heart flutter. Holding his firstborn, his little girl, the one who stole his heart the second she was born… The only one he’d love more than any other girl who walked into his life. It made you smile, truly. When Taehyun was with his kids, he was happy. And whenever you witnessed moments like this, it healed something broken within yourself.

Sure, that little girl he held and sat down on his lap in the oversized armchair wrecked everything between you two twelve years ago. No, he didn’t care that it wrecked everything you and him once shared. But, he was happy. And you’d do anything, give up anything, to see him happy. Even if it meant watching him walk away after you begged him not go through with fathering the spawn of Satan.

“Here we go!” Jin cheered as the television flashed and the scene of two kitchen remodel’s ago popped up on the screen. The boys' necks snapped to the TV, excitement buzzing off of them as they bounced around to get even more comfortable. Chan had an arm wrapped around Minho’s. “Okay everybody! Thanks to my amazing son-in-law,” Soobin smirked and shook his head as he hurried to sit down beside you, Mina getting squished between your bodies, “We get to see some home movies.” The kids erupted in cheers. Well, the boy's couch did. Rosie just nibbled one of her nails.

“Oh, I am SO ready,” Joy shook her shoulders. “I’ll get the lights, everyone has a seat?” Your mother scrambled for a remote on top of the shelf below the television, clicking it toward the ceiling to shut off the lights built into the top of the room. “If we’re lucky maybe we’ll get to see some of you guys as babies!” She gestured to all the kids as she worked her way through the room to sit on the other side of Soobin, Jin joining her soon after with his phone in hand.

The boys whispered quiet things to one another, and Rosie said something to Taehyun. Soobin gave you a sideways smile, slipping an arm around your back, over your shoulders.

And the clips, shuffled throughout the years, began.

~ august 18th, 2010 ~

Windows open in the house, a refreshing summer breeze flowing through the white curtains that hung to the floor, everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect. The sun had set about an hour ago, leaving everything washed in a deep orange haze that would linger for another twenty minutes.

Dressed in soft checkered high waisted shorts with a white cropped tee on top, one that you stole from Taehyun and cut in half, your bare feet slammed on the wood of the second floor as you darted from your bedroom toward the stairs to the kitchen. Laughter flooded the air, coming out of you, straight from your heart. Gripping the railing, you’re seconds away from leaping down to the dual level landing, but skinny arms wrap around your waist, yanking you backward, lifting you in the air. Screeching, you curl your knees into your chest and accept defeat, throwing your head backward onto his shoulder.

“Lemme go!” Your cackles were meaningless, and he wouldn’t listen anyway. Stumbling backward into one of the walls you’re certain his elbow almost went through, he laughed and put you down on your feet, making sure you didn’t fall over. “Gyu is here!”

“I don-care,” Taehyun breathed, whirling you around in his arms to press you against the wall, caging you in with his hands planted on the drywall. His smile was wide, bright, and blurry. “How dare you leave m’like this.” Glancing down between the two of you, you followed his eyes and almost snorted, throwing your head back again, this time against the wall.

Heart pounding in your chest, skin ablaze with warmth, veins pumping, extremely intoxicated (both of you), you throw your arms around his shoulders and grip his neck, clawing with your nails, gently. Taehyun sucked a harsh breath between his teeth and let his forehead fall onto yours, his smile still evident on his glistening lips as your hands traveled down his body, over his t-shirt, slipping within the waistband of his sweats where he was bare, wearing nothing beneath them.

“Slut,” you muttered within the shared air, making both of you laugh.

“Mm, mhm, hang on,” he mumbled, sliding a hand beneath your shirt, purposely dragging his fingers lightly up your side to tickle you before he grabs a handful of one of your breasts, where you were bare, wearing nothing beneath the fabric. His smile fell into a smirk when he watched you gasp. “Slut,” he whispered, tone incredulously harsh.

“Stop, Gyu’s here,” you said within a deep breath, feeling your knees buckle.

Taehyun’s brows plummeted. “You know he don’t care. Once he takes what we got he’ll be on another planet, won’t even be able to tell if you’re on top or if he’s takin’ you from the back-”

“M-my moms here.” Your hushed tone and blushed cheeks had his ego blooming with utmost power, and you knew it too.

“Um,” he chuckled. “Never stopped us before, Baby.”

“You two up there?” Joy’s voice carried up the stairs, making the two of you leap a part, taking your hands back to yourselves. “Beomgyu is here!”

Taehyun looked you up and down, licked his lips and shook his head. “We’ll be right down!”

With a deep breath you glanced down to his sweats, where he was still hard, eager for you. Shooting him a quick wink, he groaned from his chest, letting out a laugh after you whispered, “Slut,” and hurried down the stairs.

Balancing once your feet hit the floor, you reared to the side and almost knocked into a wall full of pictures, but a pair of strong hands caught your shoulders before you went down. Looking up at the boy almost a foot taller than you, his shoulder length, shaggy dark hair made you grin. Skin pale and cheeks rosy, Beomgyu was stunning, and pure boy, from his smile to his lanky, defined build.

“Start without me?” he grumbled, smoothing out your hair. “Where’s the loser?”

“I can hear you!” Taehyun shouted from upstairs, getting a giggle out of you.

Beomgyu shot you a lazy smile and shook his head. “You guys are so stupid.”

“I’m hungry, actu-lly,” you whispered, leaning into him on your tiptoes, throwing your arms around his shoulders to hug him.

Beomgyu laughed, wrapping an arm around your back, pressing his hand into your bare skin. Turning around so he could guide you into the kitchen, from over your shoulder he spots Joy, at the counter messing with a new iPhone, holding it up toward the two of you.

Standing on the top of Beomgyu’s shoes, letting him waltz you around the kitchen, you hear your mother laugh and tip your head backward, noticing she was filming you and Beomgyu.

“Mommy!” you shouted into the air, laughing like crazy.

“Oh, you guys are so cute,” Joy smiled, laughing with you, making sure the camera was catching everything. “Where’s Taehyun? He finally let you two spend some time alone?”

Scrunching your face up in disgust, you stood up straight to face Beomgyu, finding him making the same exact face. Laughter corrupted you, going completely limp in his arms.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Taehyun appeared through the archway, his hair pushed back, his skin alive with what looked like a gleam of sweat. Rushing toward you and Beomgyu, Taehyun grabbed a fistful of his friend's hair and yanked his head back, clamping his teeth on the base of his neck, making the boy yelp. Watching Taehyun as he parted from him, the indentation left on his skin turned your stomach, made you want to drag your tongue over the marks.

“Gyu’s mine, Joy,” Taehyun teased, releasing him. He jabbed a finger into your side, laughing as you shrieked, then approached Joy, putting his face up in the camera. “How do I look? Good, probably.” He winked at the camera and laughed, looking up at Joy who giggled behind the phone.

Adjusting your arms around Beomgyu’s shoulders, you hike your legs up his side and wrap them around his waist, going full koala on his front. He let out a gasp and caught you, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as you nuzzled your face into his neck.

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” he whispered to you, still laughing, the camera catching none of his words.

“Um!” You half shouted, taking the attention. “What if Gyu is MINE!”

Meeting Taehyun’s eyes you could see the jealousy that immediately pooled within them. You knew he had to keep his cool in front of Joy, and her camera. Normally you wouldn’t be pulling stunts like this, but you were high. You were high and needy for him, you couldn’t let this opportunity go.

“Uh oh, Taehyun, you’ve got competition,” Joy played right along, fueling the intoxicated fire.

“You have three seconds,” Taehyun said, his hardened glare hitting you right where you wanted it to. “One…” Laying your head on Beomgyu’s shoulder, you hummed and smiled, letting your eyes close.

“Two!”

Beomgyu bounced you in his arms, laughing, trying to get you to move, but you wouldn’t budge.

“What happens on three!” Joy was ecstatic, beaming behind her phone, her eyes darting between all three of you.

“Yeah, what happens on three,” you teased, shooting Taehyun the calmest smile you could possibly conjure.

“Wouldn’t you love to find out,” he gritted his teeth. “Three!”

A scream came out of you as Taehyun darted toward you and Beomgyu, his arms grabbing your waist, pulling you off of your friend. Beomgyu stumbled back, ready to catch you both if you fell over, his laughter bouncing through the air along with your own. Taehyun put you on your feet, spun you around, then crouched down and threw you over his shoulder.

“Tae!” Reaching your arms out to Beomgyu, you kicked your feet and almost kicked him in the face. “Gyu, help me,” you giggled.

Taehyun turned to him and shot him a wicked grin. “Let’s go.” Looking at Joy, and her camera, he winked again. “See ya, Joy.”

“Bye,” Joy smiled. “Good luck, Beomgyu.” The boy gave her his charming smile, and followed you and Taehyun upstairs, out of the sight of the camera, and your mother.

“What happened on three?” Minho inquired, looking out amongst the group as the video ended.

Unbelievable that was the first video to play. You can vaguely recall what had happened before you walked into the kitchen attached to Beomgyu, and you can barely put anything together as to what happened after.

You have no idea what happened on three. Taehyun had no idea what happened on three, you were sure of it. After he ran up the stairs with you hanging over his shoulder like a helpless ragdoll, you’re pretty sure the three of you drank until you passed out in your bed. Waking up, you can remember having an arm thrown over Beomgyu’s bare waist where he laid on his back with his arms over his head, upside down on the covers. Taehyun was the only one laying properly, fully clothed, his legs tangled with your own.

“How old were you guys?” Rosie asked, smiling at her father.

“Nineteen,” Taehyun said quietly, his focus on the TV.

Joy and Jin were swiping through the phone, too occupied to pay attention to anything anyone was saying.

“How did you pick up my mom like that?” Sunoo asked Taehyun, eyes wide. His uncle gave him a soft smile.

“I’m pretty strong,” he shrugged.

“Uncle Beomgyu was cute,” Rosie giggled, nibbling on one of her fingernails. Taehyun simply laughed and shook his head. The twelve year old turned to look at you, and you stiffened beneath her curious gaze. “You guys were dating?”

“No,” you answered fast. A little too fast. “He was one of my best friends, one of… our best friends.” Taehyun got the courage to look at you, both of you sharing the smallest, most innocent look just as Joy clicked play on the next video.

~ june 3rd, 2012 ~

The sun beating down on your bare back was anything but comforting. Standing in your backyard with a crystal champagne glass in your hand on the edge of the commotion, you eyed the guests waltzing about in their dress clothes with a grimace.

Atop the balcony of the porch, pink streamers and pink balloons hung down, keeping the place on theme. Pink plates, pink tablecloths, pink cutlery, pink candy, pink napkins, pink, pink, pink… You were sick of it. All the pink.

Women and men, most you didn’t even know, all paraded around with smiles and witty comments of grace for you and your family and the beautiful home that you have.

Oh, it’s just glorious isn’t it?

Yes, thank you my mother knows how to spend that man's money, that’s for certain.

He hee!

Ha ha!

It meant nothing. This whole event, it meant nothing. It felt like some sort of glorified apology.

We’re so sorry my son knocked up your daughter, here, have a disgustingly expensive baby shower, on us!

Downing the rest of your glass, you placed it on the tray of a waiter who came close to you and took two full ones off of it. Knocking back one of them real quick, you returned it to where it came from and decided to nurse the other.

Messing with one of the thin straps of your dress that dug into your shoulder, a floor length floral thing that Joy picked out for you a couple weeks ago, you groaned and cracked your neck, rubbing the muscle with a sigh. Across the party you spot your mother doting on the guest of honor, Sana, wearing a baby pink strapless gown. Her black hair was pinned up in a bun with a pink ribbon tied around it.

She was glowing, and you hated it.

Her belly was round as ever, almost one month away from popping. It was the only thing on her to change throughout this pregnancy, not that you were keeping track. She kept her slender figure, her smooth skin, her bright eyes, her luxurious hair… It was wretched. Maybe she was just nineteen, and that was it. You couldn’t believe your family, or hers, was allowing any of this to happen.

Jin hovered around her with his camera, making sure he captured every detail about this momentous day, this memorable occasion. His first grandchild, a baby girl that you knew he would love no matter where she came from. He and Joy were either in shock, or they truly were the ditzy idiots they made themselves out to be.

You didn’t think you’d be able to drink enough champagne to make it through.

Pressing your glossed lips to the rim of your glass, you let the drink spill into you, finishing it quick, actively pursuing another. Hurrying into the house, slamming the sliding door shut, the mouth watering smell of food and baked goods hit you, drawing you toward the kitchen. Heels clicking on the floor, you walked as fast as the torture devices could take you until you were kicking them off, picking them up by the strap, letting them dangle between two fingers. Stepping into the doorway of the kitchen, completely new and redone, everything a sparkling shade of blue, you find, like, eleven women standing around talking with their noses in the air. You didn’t know a soul.

Spinning around on your toes, desperate for an escape, you rushed into the living room where some of the guys were hiding out with a couple of random kids. Beelining for the bar in the back of the room, you drop your heels on top of it, push by two guys standing nearby and bring yourself behind it. Grabbing onto the neck of a tequila bottle, you acquire a shot glass from one of the shelves and fill it up to the top. It went down with ease, you were already filling it up for a second when a hand took the bottle from you, letting some of the alcohol spill onto the bartop.

“Alright,” Beomgyu said, holding the tequila hostage, watching you take the second shot. His gaze lingered on your lips, even after you ran your tongue over them. Once you slammed the glass on the counter and audibly expressed your relief with a happy sigh, he narrowed his eyes. “Do you want me to take you somewhere else? You know Jungkook said you could stay at his house while… this happened.”

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your lipgloss smearing across the skin, you rolled your eyes. “Your brother doesn’t care that much.”

Beomgyu nodded profusely. “Yes, he does. You know he does.”

“Stupid, it’s stupid,” you muttered, reaching for the bottle he held away from you. “Lemme have it.”

“If you’re gonna get plastered, that’s stupid,” Beomgyu said. “It won’t make him talk to you.”

A guttural laugh escaped you. “You think I want him to talk to me?!”

The boy with long, shaggy hair that framed his face spectacularly softened his eyes. “Let me take you to Jungkook’s, please.” He planted both hands on the bar, leaving the tequila unattended.

Leaning forward, placing your elbows on the counter, you pretended to debate his offer, then snagged the bottle back instead, taking a swig straight from the bottle. Beomgyu sighed, heavily, then circled the bar to stand beside you. He reached up for his own glass and stole the bottle from you, filling both the shot glasses.

“Not gonna let you do it alone,” he said, handing you your little glass. Holding his in the air, you clinked them together and took the shot, smiling with Beomgyu. “Besides… he’s high, anyway.”

Tilting your head side to side, you laughed. “He’s always high.”

Beomgyu refilled the glasses and watched you knock it back. Picking his up, he studied it, then studied you. Big, beautiful brown eyes took you in, swallowed you whole. “I’m sorry,” he said.

You brushed it off with a shrug. “Sorry for what, Gyu.”

He gulped, shaking his head slightly before he took his shot, placing it down with a knock on the bar. “All of this,” he gestured around at all of the pink. Beomgyu never discussed what went on between you and Taehyun. Ever. It was rare. “I just… I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, you wallowed in his sorrow for a moment. “He’s stupid,” you muttered, looking down at the shot glasses, messing with them to keep your hands busy. Feeling a buzz already, you couldn’t stop the words from coming out, or the tears. “Gyu, why did he do this?”

A heavy breath fell from his lips as he lifted a hand to brush away a tear. “I dunno.”

“I mean, she… she came out of nowhere, and then this happens?!” you waved your arms around, Beomgyu nodding along, encouraging you to keep going. “She’s a kid, he’s a kid, we’re… We’re kids. He’s throwing the rest of his life away, doesn’t he know that?! Sana’s a total bitch, what the hell does he see in her anyway!?”

“You got me there,” he said, pouring two more shots, one he took fast.

“I mean, like, do you see it? What’s the appeal? Do you think she’s hot?” Taking your shot you missed the way he totally checked you out.

“He totally downgraded,” he mumbled, pouring two more shots.

“Please,” you snickered, following suit, drinking the alcohol. A hiccup came out of you, one that made Beomgyu laugh. “Sana’s gorgeous and you know it.”

“Yeah, but she’s not you,” he said, perking a brow. You took a step closer to him, laying an arm on his shoulder, hooking it around his neck.

Narrowing your eyes, you smirked. “You just mean he won’t share her.”

Beomgyu’s eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue darting out between his. “I’m gonna miss this.”

“Just ‘cause he and I are done doesn’t mean we have to be,” you whispered, and he shook his head.

“You’re his,” he said. “Always have been, always will be. I don’t wanna get Yeonjun’d, I’ll keep my distance.”

Digging your fingers into his shoulder, you took one last long, good look at him. And he did the same to you. The alcohol held your heart together for the moment, but you knew once it wore off you’d be falling head first into the most debilitating heartbreak you’ve ever felt. No one had a clue what was supposed to happen after this day was over.

“You’re still my friend, Gyu.”

He raised a hand and placed it on top of yours, giving it a decent squeeze. “Always have been, always will be.”

Raising yourself on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips to his cheek and gave him a swift kiss before you stumbled back out to the backyard, making sure to grab the bottle of tequila first. People were still swarming, how long were baby showers supposed to be? Doing your best to stand up straight, you wandered across the patio without being noticed by a soul, and planted yourself in a seat underneath the shade of the balcony.

Twisting the top off of the bottle you took a long swig, falling back against the cushion with a giggle as you swallowed. You watched eagerly as girls who were clearly friends of Sana, dressed in tight dresses and high strappy heels, talked with one another and sipped on their champagne delicately, showing off their accessories and touching up their makeup as they spoke. They took tiny bites of their food and judged others around them with their eyes, you could feel it.

Another drink from the bottle. You were finally at the point where it felt like nothing mattered. Jin was still parading around with his phone, catching footage of people saying kind words to the baby and the mom to be. Overhearing most of it, it made you laugh, acquiring a judgemental glare from one of Sana’s minions. Not one person had a word to say about Taehyun. It was all Sana, Sana, Sana, and baby, baby, baby.

“Stupid,” you mumbled, sinking down on the cushion.

You were so focused on the others you didn’t recognize the body that approached you, snatching the tequila from you, dropping your heels on your lap. Jumping, startled as they hit your thighs, you sprung up and nearly toppled forward.

“Hey!” you shouted, looking up at the blurry figure. His dark hair and black button down made you laugh, loud. “No fucking way.”

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Pull yourself together.”

Gasping, you pressed a hand to your chest. “Pull myself together? Last I heard you were poppin’ molly at your own baby shower.” Taehyun groaned, crouching down to level with you. “Yanno, Gyu said this wouldn’t make you talk to me, who’s gonna tell him that he was wrong?”

“Tell him yourself,” Taehyun nodded to Beomgyu walking along the edge of the patio, Sana’s group of friends shamelessly checking him out. He pretended not to see them. It was laughable.

“GYU!” you shouted, catching his attention. He already knew, he sent you the smallest smile. Sana’s friends glared at you again. “He doesn’t want any of you, don’t even try,” you waved towards them, turning back to Taehyun who had buried his head in his hand.

“Baby, please,” he whispered.

“Baby?” you scoffed. “Your girlfriend over there is the one with the baby, Tae. Did you already forget? I know it happened so fast, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Stop,” he spoke through his teeth, looking up at you with a vengeance. “Please, stop. Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

Catching you off guard, you slid back down in the chair and furrowed your brows. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyun, tired, intoxicated, wobbly on his feet, shook his head and sighed. “I dunno what I’m doing,” he said under his breath.

Lifting a hand, you poked his nose. “Then… you shouldn’t have done it.”

He shot to his feet, glaring down at you. Your body reacted, reaching up for him.

“No,” you whispered. “Come back.”

Taehyun scanned the backyard. “No,” he said, taking one more look at you before joining Sana and her parents where they were sitting with Jin and Joy.

A tear slipped down your cheek, you think. Taehyun smiled, or pretended to smile, while he spoke to her parents. He looked like he was saying nice things to Sana, probably asking her if she was alright, showering her with attention. Attention that used to be yours. It was attention he was allowed to give her in front of these people. That attention was never allowed to be yours. It wasn’t ever meant for you. It will never belong to you. It will never, ever be yours.

You were definitely crying now, alone on the porch in the corner while your family and the guests enjoyed this beautiful day and this beautiful celebration. There was another life coming into the world, a life that was half of the boy you loved, a life he decided to have with someone else. It felt like death. It all felt like hell, a burning, god awful hell.

“Come on,” Beomgyu said to you. Turning toward him, all you could do was reach your arms up for him to take, pulling you to your feet, letting your shoes topple to the floor. “We’re going to my brothers.”

“But, they-”

He brought you into the house. “He told me to take you to my brothers.” Facing you, he wiped away your tears and frowned. “You’re too pretty to cry, stop it.” The hallway you were in was quiet, secluded. Sucking in a deep breath, you gazed at him and pouted.

“You can’t drive, you-”

“Jungkook’s outside,” he breathed.

Nodding, you slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close, giving him a real hug, heart to heart. “I love you, Gyu,” you mumbled into his neck.

The boy sighed, and held you tighter. “I love you, too.”

“No way, I was in Mom’s belly!” Rosie almost leapt off of Taehyun’s lap. The entire video came from Jin, he documented the entire day, the entire shower, every gorgeous detail that you now were able to appreciate. A hole in your heart remained, but it was so long ago now that the cut didn’t burn as deep.

Joy shared her excitement with Rosie, and Minho chimed in with some questions, asking who different people were that only his father and grandparents were able to answer.

You thanked the good lord, or whoever was up there, that you were barely in any of the shots. You remembered that day very differently than everyone else. Soobin even whispered to you how insufferable the day must’ve been, and that he was glad you weren’t together yet, or else he would’ve had to put up with that shit. And yes, he said shit.

“You were with Uncle Beomgyu again,” Rosie said to you, twisting on her fathers lap completely.

Glancing at Soobin who focused his eyes on the baby in your arms, you took a breath and looked at your niece. “Yeah, I was.”

Rosie’s face screwed up, confused. “I thought you guys didn’t date.”

“We didn’t,” you shook your head, tone going a bit stern.

The girl grilled you with her eyes. “Sure seems like you did.”

The room fell into a quiet chatter while Joy and Jin searched for another video. Your boys were talking to Minho, asking him questions about his mom that was just in the video, and Rosie whispered things to Taehyun you were dying to hear.

Soobin, as if he could feel your blood beginning to boil, leaned over and kissed your cheek. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze. “Just wasn’t expecting to have to dodge him either.”

Soobin watched you for a few seconds more, then bobbed his head.

Beomgyu hung around Taehyun more than he hung around with you. He showed up to Taehyun’s kids birthdays, not yours. Beomgyu accepted offers to stay at Taehyun’s for long weekends, or to watch sports games, or to go to concerts, or to just simply hang out in his basement. And Beomgyu reciprocated the invites. You never got a single one.

“Think this hurts more than it should,” you whispered, looking at your husband. Soobin, energy doing a complete one eighty, turned to your parents.

“How many more you guys got?” he asked with persistence. “My baby’s need to get to bed. Wonwoo’s on a schedule.”

Joy shoved Soobin by his shoulder and clicked her tongue. “Strict Soobin, come on.” Soobin smiled. He didn’t mind being the bad guy when it came to you. “Let us just watch one more, and I swear we’ll be done. We’re all having so much fun though, aren’t we?” The boys agreed with her, as did Rosie. Taehyun was silent, and so were you.

“One more,” Soobin said.

~ april 1st, 2009 ~

“Ready!?” Taehyun shouted to the crowd around your kitchen counter, standing in the dark, the only light coming from the candles shoved into the cake in front of you. “Here we go!” Thirty people, or more, sang Happy Birthday to you in the most obnoxious way possible, led by Taehyun himself. Friends, family from both sides, neighbors… Everyone was gathered to sing to you, to celebrate you. Though the lights were shaped like stars and the song was distorted in your ears, you were having the time of your life. Taehyun to your left, Beomgyu to your right, and Yeonjun hovering behind you, you had everything you could ever need, it made you want to cry. As the singing came to an end, you squeezed your eyes shut and blew out your candles, basking in the cheers that followed.

“She’s eighteen!” Your boys shouted, holding you in some way, jumping up and down with you in their arms.

The lights flickered on and the cake was whisked away. Your vision was truly tunneling, all you could see were the boys in front of you, congratulating you. Taehyun hugged you first, holding you tight. The one day he could without it being considered weird. Yeonjun was next, slipping his arms around your waist, bending you in half as you laughed and clung to his shoulders. Turning to Beomgyu, you reached for his cheeks and gave them a squeeze, getting a laugh out of him. He grabbed your hands and yanked you toward him, hugging you tight, pressing one of his cheeks to your own.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispered to you. “Taehyun says when the party starts.” Pulling away, you stumbled backward and bit your bottom lip. Beomgyu was smug, but he was subtle. His attention immediately shifted when he watched your cheeks turn pink.

“Hey,” Yeonjun said, grabbing your wrist, pulling you out into the hallway. The pretty boy got you alone, his black hair parted in the center, hanging over his forehead almost brushed against your own. “I have something for you, but I can’t give it to you right now.”

Your eyes focused on his lips. His full, plump, beautiful lips you’d always been dying to kiss, only while under the influence. “Okay,” you whispered, blinking up at him mindlessly.

“It’ll make you feel even better than this,” he smirked, placing a hand on the wall above your shoulder. “I promise.”

“Really?” you sighed, falling under his charm. Yeonjun grinned, taking his other hand to your cheek, dragging his fingers over your warm skin.

“Really,” he said, his tone turning sultry. “Taehyun got this for you, right?”

Blinking twice, slowly, you nodded even slower. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Took it hours ago… Dunno what it is, Junie.”

Yeonjun’s expression turned serious. “Oh, no, honey, that’s not too safe is it?”

He began to shake his head, and you followed along. “No,” you whispered.

“No,” he lowered his brows. “It’s not. I can tell you exactly what I got you, it’ll-”

“C’mon, Baby,” Taehyun said, abruptly pulling you away from Yeonjun. The boy tumbled back and shot Taehyun a glare. “We’re outta here. Yeonjun you gotta go.”

Taehyun wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close under his. With Beomgyu close behind, Taehyun had you in a brisk walk, headed for the front door. “Wait, hold on, Tae,” you said, trying to turn back around.

“No, keep walking,” Taehyun muttered.

“Where the fuck are you guys going?” Yeonjun called after you, throwing his arms out to the side. Taehyun turned toward him for only a moment more.

“Somewhere without you,” he narrowed his eyes. “Till you stop being a shady piece of shit.”

Yeonjun placed his hands on his hips, his gaze shifting between Taehyun and Beomgyu. “You two are the ones being shady pieces of shit, like what even is this?” He gestured toward you. “It’s her party and you’re leaving? And I’m not going with?”

“Why’s he not coming with?” you parroted his words, but Beomgyu shut you up with a glare. “Oh, right.”

Yeonjun clapped his hands together and laughed sarcastically. “Shady shit! You guys suck.” He made it to the front door first. “Happy Birthday,” he said to you, reaching in his pocket, tossing a small bag of powder by your feet. Beomgyu was quick in picking it up and pocketing it, making sure no adult had rounded the corner. By the time the three of you looked back at the door, Yeonjun was gone.

“Did he touch you?” Taehyun asked, his eyes burning into yours. A shake of your head didn’t appease him. “Words, Baby.”

“No,” you said, trying to swallow, but your mouth was suddenly really, really dry. “I need water.” Your voice was hushed.

Taehyun cringed. “Ah, shit, right,” he mumbled, then looked up at Beomgyu. “Jungkook wanna make a pitstop on the way to your house?” Both boys started you for the door once again, your feet almost stumbling over the other.

“Am I supposed to feel more… more dizzy?” you laughed. Beomgyu and Taehyun shared a look, laughing with you.

“We gotta catch up,” Taehyun whispered. You could barely see the boys around you as they spoke, you only heard their voices that were as beautiful and as soothing as a lullaby. “I wanna feel what she’s feeling.”

Beomgyu wrapped an arm around you, helping Taehyun get you out the door. “I wanna feel what she’s feeling while feeling her.”

You managed to swat a hand at his chest. “Gyu,” you sang. The front door shut behind you, and it was just the three of you on the porch. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, you pulled him toward you and pressed your lips to his, feeling like you had no control over anything you were doing. He kissed you back, it was a rough, wet mess. You were just slipping your tongue between his lips when a hand grabbed your hair and pulled you back.

Stumbling into Taehyun's chest, you giggled and spun around, throwing your arms around his shoulders, letting your lips meet more gentle than they did with Beomgyu’s. Taehyuns kiss was careful, and sweet, and full of feeling, and, and…

“Who was that lady with the white hair?” Minho called out as the video ended on a scene of family lounging around the living room.

“That’s your Great-Aunt Jennie,” Jin said to the boy, smiling at him. “That was my favorite one,” he glanced at his wife, “Full of people I haven’t seen in ages.” Joy placed a hand to his thigh and gave it a squeeze. Great-Aunt Jennie passed away two years ago.

Mina had climbed onto Soobins lap at some point during that last one, where your brain was trailing off elsewhere. Your family was watching scenes of your family, but you were on the front porch, getting in the car with Beomgyu’s older brother, driving to their house to spend two nights in a row there. The three of you missed two days of school that week, of your senior year.

“I think I’m all videoed out,” you said a bit too loud, standing to your feet, heading out into the hallway without a look back. With Wonwoo in your arms you took it upon yourself to head upstairs and put the baby in the bassinet you brought with you after changing and nursing him.

Keeping your mind clear, blocking out every and any thought you were having, you got changed yourself, throwing on one of Soobin’s t-shirts and a pair of flowing sweatpants. You didn’t bother to brush your teeth or take off your makeup, instead you curled up in your bed and tried to not let the thoughts consume you while you waited for Soobin to come up.

Coming here for the weekend was one thing. You were already thrown into a torturous mess of family and remembering things, you didn’t know you’d be forced to relive so many different memories you had suppressed for a multitude of reasons. Laying here in the dark, you’re beginning to think this weekend was meant to happen this way to show you exactly how far you’ve drifted from this life. That Soobin and your kids was where you were meant to be, happy and dramaless, safe and growing in positivity and a pureness your children were not going to get from this house.

It was nauseating, and would give you a migraine if you thought about it for too long. In just one day, after yearning for what used to be, you’ve realized it wasn’t what it was. It’s not the same as it was. Whatever you were longing for would not feel the same as it did when you were eighteen, nineteen, even twenty-one. You were at an entirely different aspect of life now. A healthy one.

“Darling?” Soobin whispered, the door opening slowly, light flooding in from the hallway. Sitting up, you watched him shut the bedroom door quietly so as to not wake the baby, then he walked to your side, catching you as you fell into him. “Are you alright?”

“Next Christmas we stay for a day,” you whispered. “Then, we leave and spend it with the kids. Just the kids.”

Soobin drug his hand in a circle around your back, letting it slip beneath the shirt you wore. “You know, I’m not going to say no.”

Looking up at him, you tried to give him a smile. “Thank you.”

“For?” Soobin quirked a brow.

“For being you,” you whispered. “For believing in me, and sticking by me, and supporting me, and treating me nicely, and… loving the kids.”

Soobin held back a smile, his eyes going slightly wide. “That’s a lot of thank you’s.”

“I mean every word,” you said. “I love you so much. I think I’m… content… not having heavy ties here.”

Your husband sucked in a breath, like relief had struck him suddenly. “Moving on.”

You finally smiled, nodding. “Moving on.”

“Thank god,” Soobin groaned, pushing you backward against the pillows to smother you with kisses. His lips were halfway down your neck until you pushed him off.

“Where’s the kids?” you asked.

A soft smile graced his lips. “Taehyun offered up his bedroom for all of them. He got Mina’s little crib set up in there, and the boys snuggled up in his bed with Minho.”

“Rosie?” You raised your brows.

Soobin chuckled. “She’ll be in a sleeping bag on the floor next to Mina.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” he said. “Now, may I continue?”

Glancing at the baby’s bassinet that was set up in the corner furthest from you, you turned back to your husband with a smile and hummed. “Continue,” you giggled.

It seemed impossible to sleep, and no, it wasn’t Christmas excitement keeping you up. Soobin, sound asleep beside you, had done his best to tire you out, to relax you enough that you’d want to shut your eyes and snooze, but it wasn’t enough.

After Christmas you were heading back home to be a family of six, unsure of when you’d be coming back here to visit your family, unsure of when you’d ever see Taehyun again. Everything was still unclear between the two of you, whether or not your relationship was in good standing. Those videos gave you a decent idea of where you were headed with your decision on making up.

Slipping out of the covers carefully so you didn’t startle Soobin, you checked on Wonwoo who was also sound asleep, then tiptoed out to the hallway. It was dark, and quiet, the only light coming from the stairs, where the Christmas throw up was. Pushing your hair back out of your face, you took yourself down there, the stairs creaking beneath you as snuck down. Peeking into the front room with the tree and the lights, you find mountains of gifts waiting for your kids under the branches. Gifts upon gifts you didn’t even approve of were patiently awaiting their sticky little fingers to tear them open. Two little green bikes were standing by the windows. Your twins were going to lose their minds.

The rest of the house was silent, everyone was clearly asleep. Sneaking down the hallway into the kitchen, a gasp escapes you when you find Taehyun sitting at the kitchen table in the dark with a glass of water sitting in front of him.

“Jesus, Tae,” you whispered.

“Sorry,” he breathed a laugh. “Didn’t wanna cause any commotion.”

Taking a breath to calm your beating heart, you walk over and take a seat next to him, keeping your focus on the table in front of you. “No, you’re good, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be up.”

Taehyun bobbed his head and twisted his glass on the wood. “Sober sleep is hard.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You wake up feeling a lot better though.”

He laughed. “True.”

Silence fell between you, a suffocating silence, like there was so much more to say yet not enough time to say it. Either that or neither of you had the balls to do so.

“Everything that I’ve said today,” Taehyun began, gulping, “I’m sorry.” He looked to you with only his eyes. You did the same. “It wasn’t appropriate of me to let you hear any of it.”

Shifting your body, you turned to face him, pulling your legs up on the chair. “I needed it.”

He looked at you with wild eyes. “Really?” Copying your stance, he twisted to give you his full attention.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “We can’t live with all that shit trapped inside of us. That’s what’s made these last twelve years really, really hard. We stopped talking.”

Taehyun rolled his eyes. “I stopped talking.”

“Why did you?” Your voice was a whisper, one that made him recoil with a slight shake of his head. “And don’t say it’s ‘cause of Sana, because I know for a fact that it’s not.”

He stared down at nothing for a few seconds, before a gentle groan came out of him and he gave you a half smile. “Beomgyu.” The name, after those videos, made your stomach turn. In the not fun way.

“What about him?” Your voice was small.

“I don’t even think I need to say it.”

“Taehyun, please.”

He exhaled heavily and squeezed his eyes shut. “You guys… liked each other.”

A breath corrupted your lungs, a lump lodging in your throat as you tore your eyes away from him, looking about the kitchen. Taehyun smiled something of sorrow.

“I was a toy for him to play with,” you mumbled, and he detested immediately.

“That is a lie and you know it,” he said. Meeting his eyes, you felt a tear slip out of one of yours. “You saw those videos, I couldn’t watch anything except for how he looked at you. Shit, Baby, I was there. I could see, I could feel how he felt. And I know how it feels to be loved by you. You loved him too.”

Wiping your hands over your face, letting them sit there for a moment, you sniffled. “Oh, it’s so fucked, Tae.”

“I know,” he whispered. “It’s so fucked.” He went quiet, glancing around the room, watching the snowfall outside. “I don’t blame it for our problems, though. I don’t blame him. He’s still my best friend, he’s still…” You snapped your eyes toward him, begging him to not say the words. A sigh and a head shake was answer enough that he’d keep his mouth shut.

“I had Rosie on purpose,” he decided to tread carefully. “We know this, I… yelled it at you.”

“Sorry for trying to talk you out of it.” Your hushed voice surprised him. “You love her, so much. Both of them. It hurts me that I tried to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t know,” he said, the look in his eye accepting your apology. “We didn’t know we’d be here. We didn’t know Sana would stick with me. No one knew if I’d make it this far, have them with me, have any sort of custody… It’s okay.” He nodded. “You wanted to protect me.”

“That day, at her shower,” you rested your chin on one of your knees, “You wanted to protect me. I remember you telling Gyu to take me to his brothers.”

Taehyun let the memory find him. “I did. He wanted to bring you there anyway, without me telling him to. We both knew you wouldn’t go if I didn’t say something.”

“Where were going with this before?” you asked. “Talking about Rose.”

Taehyun attempted a smile. “I… had her on purpose. Which sounds pretty shitty to say out loud.” The two of you shared a quiet laugh. “But, I got with Sana for more of a reason than to just piss you off.”

“You did piss me off pretty bad,” you giggled, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m good at that,” he popped his brows once. “I just…” The energy shifted. “There was no life with me,” he whispered, looking at you. “There was no life… with you. You and I, we could never have this.” He gestured around the kitchen.

Raising your brows you sighed. “You and I couldn’t ever afford this.” It made him laugh, thankfully. His hands found his lap, folding together between the sweats he was wearing to bed.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” you said, tone as soft as his.

“I had to do something, something that would force us to stop what we were doing, ‘cause there was little to nothing that would stop us.” He huffed a laugh watching you force back a smile. “As much as it hurt… It hurt so bad. I did it for you.”

“That’s ass backwards,” you muttered.

“Totally,” he agreed. “I saw you and Gyu. Saw how you were. I thought, if I did this, you two would get together. Eventually.”

Trying to swallow the lump in your throat away, it seemed it was there to stay. Another tear fell. “And how did that plan work out?”

Your whisper just about punched him in the gut. “I didn’t think any of this would happen.”

Wiping your own tears, you took in a shaky deep breath. “You know, you could’ve just said the words, Taehyun. That’s all I ever wanted, was for you to talk to me. A majority of my life was one big secret, I didn’t need anymore from you.”

He took you in, accepting defeat. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

A sarcastic laugh came out amongst the tears. “And you thought that was Gyu?” you whispered, sniffling, and laughing. “He literally told me he wouldn’t do anything because I was yours. Always was, always will be.” Taehyun averted his gaze. “If you weren’t involved, I barely heard from him. To this day, I don’t hear from him.” But, you knew he knew that.

“Do you know how lucky I am to have the man that I do upstairs?” you continued on, Taehyuns eyes eventually finding yours again. “Do you know how unbelievable it is that he’s even with me? I already fucked up with him once, with undeniable, living proof that we’ll have for the rest of our lives, and he married me, Taehyun.” You took a second to wipe your tears. “Where was Beomgyu?”

Getting up out of his chair, he paused you for a moment. “Hang on,” he muttered, leaving the kitchen, then reappearing after a minute or two with envelopes in his hands. “I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to give you these.” He sat beside you and placed the long white letter envelopes on the table. “Was worried you wouldn’t come this weekend.”

Jaw tight, you reached for the envelopes and kept a strong face as you picked them up. Your tears betrayed you, as you read the names on the front of the four letters they fell steadily. Two were dated from the boy's fourth birthday, their names written neatly on the front, as well as the other two, from their fifth birthday this year.

This was how it went. An envelope for each boy with a birthday wish and a hefty amount of cash. Usually these were slipped to you at one of Taehyun’s kids parties, discreetly, like it was hush money and not birthday gifts for your children. Words were never spoken, nor exchanged. The letters were given to you, by Taehyun, and you handed them off to your husband without a second thought.

“Have you ever read them?” he asked, eyeing the envelopes you held.

“No,” you breathed, and he nodded. “Soobin has, though. I might, eventually.”

Nodding again, Taehyun sat quietly, letting you have a minute before he said, “He’s a good man.”

Flickering your eyes up to him you smiled. “He’s a damn good man, Tae.” Holding up the letters, you scoffed. “After this? Taking care of and accepting those boys like they’re his own? I swear… I don’t deserve him.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “You deserve him and so much more.”

Six years ago, you and Soobin’s gap year, that sounded so superficial at this point, you ran back to the two boys, both Taehyun and Beomgyu. A taste of your old life, one that Soobin was detoxing you from. It scared you, to think you were losing a side of yourself, the only side of yourself you had ever known. You weren’t able to stay at Taehyun’s, and you sure as hell didn’t want to stay back at home, so you settled on living at Beomgyu’s for some time.

Having his own place by then, not too far from Taehyun’s, the three of you lived like you were twenty again, and it was exhilarating, it was freedom, it was familiar. Thinking about it now you cannot believe that you allowed half of it to happen, Taehyun was a married man with two children, but most of that year, those collective months, was a blurred mess. Neither of the boys tried to talk you out of anything with Soobin, in fact, they barely spoke his name. You led… everything.

At this point it seemed that Beomgyu had somewhat gotten over his, ‘you’re always his’, thing, because most mornings you weren’t waking up in the spare room, you were waking up beside him, with tangled limbs and hungover, naked bodies.

You didn’t know you were pregnant until you made up with Soobin. After months of living in hazy chaos, you had an epiphany, much like the one you had a few hours ago after watching the home movies. It wasn’t a life you wanted. It clearly wasn’t a life Beomgyu wanted either.

Living back here at home, days away from moving in with Soobin, into the first tiny home you shared together, you found out you were expecting. Positively gutted, knowing there was no way in hell that Soobin had fathered the child, you were at a loss. You sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom upstairs, alone, for an hour. There was no Taehyun to rush in to save you, to hold you in his arms and tell you everything was going to be okay. You were completely alone, and you had no other choice but to tell Soobin.

Sure, you could’ve taken the other route and gotten yourself out of the shitty predicament, but something in your heart was begging you to tell him. So, you did. And, you hurt him. He didn’t ignore you, he didn’t push you away, he didn’t postpone your move in, he was there for you, and cared for you.

It was one thing you still couldn’t wrap your mind around. How one day he woke up, and decided it was the day to propose, at your bedside in the early morning when you just peeked open your eyes. He spoke words that, still to this day, had the power to bring you to tears. He accepted you, he promised to love and to care for you. He accepted your boys, before either of you even knew there were two. For six years he’s kept his promise. For six years he’s been the best damn father any child could ask for.

“Taehyun, I know we both said things we still mean,” you spoke carefully, keeping his gaze on yours. “You said that you love me, and I… I love you, too.”

He cringed to himself. “I hope you know I don’t mean it in the, I want you to divorce him, way.”

You nearly leapt out of your seat, reaching forward for his hands. “God, no, Tae,” you sighed. “Listen, part of me came here wondering what was left. Of us.” He listened intently, soaking up every word. “You probably thought I was gonna try to… get you back, or something.” He nodded solemnly, a confession he didn’t want to reveal. “And, maybe part of me wanted to find out, but that stuff isn’t important anymore. We’re two entirely different people now. We’re both sober, we’re both on track to live happy, fulfilling lives… We cannot go backward.”

Watching you, wondering if you had anything else to add, he asked, “Will you ever tell them? The boys?”

Your heart sank. “Soobin and I discussed it. When they’re old enough, we’ll tell them. We’ll give them the letters.” Your eyes burned, the tears coming on fast. “Though I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for them to find out that he didn’t want them. I don’t wanna break their hearts. I don’t want them to have to go through the same pain I did, the realization that your father rejected you, acting like you don’t exist.” Taehyun squeezed your hands. You swore a tear slid down his cheek. “How do I do that to them?”

Taking a deep breath, Taehyun gestured to the letters you threw down on the table. “Read them,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t place. “Before you tell the boys… read them.”

After a sniffle you nodded, wiping your tears on your shoulder. “I said it earlier, I want my kids to know you.” He drug his fingers over your skin delicately. “Especially the boys, you’re…” a shaky breath shot through you, “You’re the closest thing they have to him.”

It fell quiet once again, the brisk wind and snow outside the only thing to be heard, calming you both. Taehyun gave your hands one last squeeze before he let them go and tucked his back into his lap. “Yanno, Joy was saying some funny stuff.”

“That the boys look like you,” you said quickly, both of you laughing together.

“Yeah,” Taehyun screwed his face up. “It made me think. It made me think some things I shouldn’t think-“

“Tae,” you said gently. “They’re his. Gyu’s their daddy. I promise you.”

He looked at his lap. “Right,” he whispered, lips firmly pressed together.

Ignoring everything that changed about him in this moment, you kept things moving, picking up the letters off the table. “Thank you for these,” you smiled. “And, thank you for being here. For talking to me.”

He flashed you that grin that made your heart skip a beat. “What are friends for, Baby?”

Glittering wrapping paper littered the floor, more being thrown by the minute. Every child was beaming, showing off each gift they unwrapped to whoever's eye they could catch. The twins, absolutely losing their minds over their bikes, Mina, asking Jin to open up her new baby doll, Minho, reading the back of a vinyl record, and Rosie, counting how many new lip glosses she’s opened. The room was happy, full of life.

Soobin sat on a couch with Wonwoo in his arms, the infant holding onto a teething ring for dear life, chewing on it while he watched his family go crazy over their gifts. He shot you a smile each time one of your kids opened something new, a screech sounding off when they recognized it was something they’d been asking for.

“You boys want Daddy and Uncle Taehyun to teach you how to ride them?” you asked, holding up your phone to take photos of the twins trying to sit on their bikes. Taehyun, on the floor next to the tree, handing out gifts whenever a child asked for another, looked up at your husband, eyes full of hope.

“Oh my god, yes!” Chan shouted, jumping up and down on his feet covered by the fuzzy footed pajamas he wore. Sunoo, matching his brother, threw his arms in the air and cheered. Eyeing Soobin carefully, you sighed as you watched him smile and nod at Taehyun.

“Can we go now?” Sunoo pouted, eyes going wide. Taehyun snickered and looked over at you.

“Sun, look outside,” you pointed to the window. All the kids followed, glancing out to the snow that was probably going to have you stuck here for another night. “Don’t think you’ll be able to ride a bike out there.” Soobin shot you a look, his smile sarcastic, already dreading staying here one more time.

The boys moved onto other gifts, taking their time, scoping the scene, helping their sister and asking Minho what he got. Taehyun moved to the couch next to Soobin, a foot of space separating them, the three men falling into conversation with one another, Jin seeming happy to have them both there with him. Observing the organized chaos, you didn’t notice your mother approaching you, sliding her arm around your back where you stood in the archway.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” she smiled, speaking quietly to you. Giving her a quick smile, you focused back on your husband, who was handing Wonwoo over to Taehyun.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” you whispered. Taehyun gazed down at your son in awe, the first time he’s actually held him this weekend. The first time he was getting to know one of your kids before they learned how to walk. He didn’t get to do this with Mina. He barely got to do it with the twins. Wonwoo smiled up at him after he whispered something to the baby, and when he did, he looked up at you and the look on his face warmed your heart.

“He’s so…” Joy began.

“Good with the kids,” you finished, giving her a look. “I know, Mom.”

She forced a smile onto her lips, looking back at you like she was in pain. Her eyebrows were flipped and her eyes were glistening. “I’m sorry if those videos were a lot,” she said, and you scoffed, brushing it off. “No, I mean it. It’s clear you’re moved on from then, I think I was just so caught up in the past. It’s lonely here without you.”

Sighing, you turned to face her. “Mom, the videos-”

“I don’t need you to try to reassure me,” she actually smiled, rubbing your forearm. “They were a lot for me, too. Seeing that day,” her eyes widened for a second, her voice dropping back down to a whisper, one that sent a chill down your spine, “I was reminded how grateful I am that it wasn’t you.”

“Mom,” you gasped, clamping your jaw shut. Her eyes flickered toward Taehyun quickly, then back to yours without much else to say.

“I hold onto hope that one day you’ll open up to me,” she said. “I’m here for you. I always have been.” With another gentle rub of your arm she scurried off into the room to celebrate with the kids.

Your skin has flushed, you know it has. Frozen where she left you, you can’t comprehend what had just happened, what she had just told you, what she had literally admitted to you. Nausea washed over you, your throat closing, like the ability to breath was stolen from you.

She knew.

Willing yourself to turn toward the room where the commotion continued, but you heard half of it, you took one look at the men on the couch. Soobin and Taehyun, both looking back at you with concern. Soobin’s was protective, but Taehyun’s was straight worry. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know how to process. A secret you were planning to keep from her for the rest of your life, one that you and Taehyun were going to take to the grave, she knew about. She left you without any indication as to when she found out, who she found out from, if she figured it out herself, if Jin knew as well… She knew, and you didn’t know how.

Looking at your boys, your beautiful twin boys showing their grandmother their new books they had unwrapped, you felt your heart rate skyrocket as you realized that as she sat there talking with them, she thought they were Taehyun’s children.

You were crying, and you weren’t totally sure you were breathing either. Shaky hands pushed back your hair and wiped your tears. Shaky legs took you away from the celebration, into another room, the living room, where you fell onto a couch and buried your face in your hands, finally letting out a decent sob you’d been suppressing all weekend.

It wasn’t long until a pair of strong arms wrapped around you, cozying up next to you, pulling you into their lap. Smothering yourself in their chest, you grabbed onto them somehow, and cried. There weren’t any words to say. Looking up at your husband, teary eyed, there wasn’t a thing either of you could say, or do, to make this any better.

“I’ll find a way to get us home tonight,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Okay, maybe there was one thing he could say to make this a little bit better. And you knew damn well, better than anyone, that Soobin kept his promises.

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

sweet desire. // gyu.

pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader (afab - she/her pronouns)

summary: A makeup artist for one of BigHits biggest groups, you've created memorable friendships with four members... and a secret with another. On set for their newest, sexiest comeback, it's impossible to keep it hidden.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: dom!gyu, degradation, choking if you squint, glitter play? LMAO, theres glitter everywhere, switch!gyu and switch!reader hints, if i missed anything please let me know

a/n: Surprised to say this somewhat new to me...? I've never written a piece where the main subject was the smut... Be nice to me please, lol! I love this boy. This came to me in a dream.... I totally thought it up while dreaming.

Sugar Rush Ride.

It was so exciting, so new, so… sexy.

This comeback was different from anything Tomorrow by Together has done before, though it still held that magical aspect the boys easily pulled off.

Long days were spent on set, the entire team traveling to different locations to get the perfect shots for the music video that was set to drop soon, the same day as the album. The group of hair and makeup artists, including yourself, had a blast with these fresh ideas, giving the boys some fun.

You were fairly new to the staff, having joined just a few months ago, and your experience so far has been nothing short of absolutely exciting.

The other members of the staff you worked beside were remarkable. You learned so much in such a short period of time because of their expertise. They were kind, respectable, and helped you climb to the top of the ladder, which was why you were on set this time around working on a shoot instead of traveling for only performances.

Aside from your co-workers, TXT themselves were astounding. Each boy had a special, personal relationship with you. Being around one another for so long for long periods of time had that effect on people, Idol’s or not. You were going to learn some things about the company you were surrounded with, most times without asking.

You didn’t mind, you never did. It was incredibly easy to open up to the five of them. Being close in age helped, you had more in common with them than some of the other staff members.

With Yeonjun you held some heavy discussions, the two of you delving deep into a topic, picking it apart with logic and knowledge. There was never any small talk with the eldest, much like there wasn’t with Soobin. The tall boy preferred to talk about life, keeping a rather positive outlook on things which was always uplifting. Taehyun and Kai were the social media superstars, every conversation and interaction circling back to some trend on TikTok, or something the two of them saw on Weverse.

Beomgyu though… Beomgyu was a surprise.

From the moment you met him he was a total flirt, which threw you off your game. You never expected him to be so cocky, not when you’ve read for months before you started about how babygirl he was, and how cute and cuddly he could be.

All of your experiences with that boy were far from cute and cuddly.

Other women on your team would slip you sly comments during your start here at BigHit. They’d tell you Beomgyu had eyes for you, that he never acted this way with them. Around the other staff he was a bouncing little bear, but around you it was as if the predator within him awoke.

Far from cute and cuddly.

You fully intended to keep the relationship strictly business. The last thing you needed was a scandal, or this boy's reputation taking a blow. So, for two months, it was strictly business.

Taking care of his makeup, inches away from his face while he gazed at you with a fierceness that made your knees buckle, it was torture. He had a way of turning his brows inward, the slightest bit, that drove you mad. Even the pout he wore while you painted his lids with shadow tore you apart.

You wouldn’t lie. You wanted him just as bad.

After two months you caved, winding up beneath him in a dressing room after a show, whining his name as he wrecked your neck with deep purple marks, thrusting into you unapologetically hungry for more before it was even over. And then again at the next show, and then again at the next show…

It was a secret amongst the staff, none of them knew, but the boys sure did.

The first time it happened you and Beomgyu stumbled out of the door like a couple of drunks, Yeonjun a full witness to it. Then, after a while the two of you seemed to know your way around each other, like good friends who knew each other's next move. Taehyun was the one to pick up on it, pointing out how you and Beomgyu would sit the same or gesture toward someone the same way. Yeonjun whispered something in his ear and you swear the shorty gasped so loud that BTS rehearsing upstairs could hear him.

They all knew, all four of them, and they loved it. If he was spending his spare time fucking you he was less of a menace for them to deal with.

Filming this music video for Sugar Rush Ride, most of the time Beomgyu spent on set was either in front of a camera, or getting buckled in to be whisked away to the next location. It was a brand new comeback, one of their biggest to date, so he was focused on his job.

That didn’t stop his wandering eyes, though.

Whether you were putting makeup on Kai’s face, or organizing your kit after you finished their faces up, you could feel his dreamy chocolate eyes devouring you. Sometimes it was across the set, after the director called cut Beomgyu would turn his head to search for where you ended up.

Whenever the boys needed a touch up you made sure to get to him first, not letting any other artist touch him for the entire project. Even if someone had gotten to him before you, you knew he’d stop them and request you to mess with his lips… Just so he can eye fuck you in the process.

For four days you were forced to watch him wander about half naked, covered in tiny flecks of glitter with his hair wispy, brushing over his eyes. You were forced to watch him do this choreography over and over again, half naked, covered in glitter with wispy hair over his eyes.

It was torturous, and you knew he felt the same. He wasn’t even able to touch you while he filmed, the closest he got was your fingers on his cheeks when you applied his makeup, and the moment on the beach where you both giggled as he sprinkled sand along your arm.

Now, on the last day of filming on a gorgeous set that appeared as if it were an underwater oasis, you and Beomgyu knew it was happening.

Early that morning he was dressed, well, half dressed, and you had to cover him in glitter. It was the most glitter the five of them had been covered in all weekend, and though messy, it was totally erotic.

His eyes followed you as you brushed his smooth skin from his neck to his belt, having to squat down on your knees to focus around his hips. Completely eye level with what you wanted to touch most, you glanced up at him with innocent eyes and you swear he suppressed a groan.

It’d been days since he’s had you. He was feral.

The director called cut on the final shot, and you barely had any time to applaud with the lot before Beomgyu had his arms around you, pulling you into the nearest secure space.

It was a dressing room, you figured out after he locked the door, one that you prayed belonged to him. Hearing the lock click into place, you turn to face him, and you're met with dark eyes.

“I’ve been going crazy,” he says softly, but his tone packs a punch. His voice is deep, a near growl. Sucking in a deep breath your heart skips a beat as you nod.

“Me too,” you whisper. Your eyes travel down his appearance, the black suit with golden accents he wore tearing you up. He was covered in glitter up to his ears, you wanted nothing more than to lick it clean off.

You couldn’t imagine how you looked, after days of filming and traveling it cannot be pretty. He doesn’t cease the way he’s gazing at you however, sleepy eyes or not, he needs you.

“Thought I was gonna snap on the beach,” he says, stepping closer to you, coming within six inches of your personal space. “Never seen you look so sexy.”

Reaching up a hand, he places the back of it to your cheek, dragging it down softly, wrapping his palm around the base of your neck when it slips low enough. He steps even closer, now toe to toe.

Leaning in, his lips ghost yours. Smiling at the way your eyes flutter shut, he nibbles his bottom lip, then pokes out his tongue, swiping it along the seam of your lips quickly before he plants a messy kiss in its place.

His grip tightens around your neck, and gets even tighter after you let a little sound slip. Beomgyu groans, sliding his other arm around your waist to tug you closer, pressing his chest to yours.

The kiss is hot, it’s wet, and it makes you realize you’re both entirely too clothed.

Gripping the edges of his jacket you shrug it off of him, Beomgyu helping, tossing it aside. Your eager fingers take to the hem of the thin, low cut black shirt beneath it and tug at it, your lips parting for only a moment as the fabric flips over his head.

Gasping for half a second, cut off by his lips pressing into yours, you're surprised to see he’s still covered in glitter. His torso was barely exposed today, and yet he was doused in the tiny silver flecks.

Beomgyu laughs within a breath, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he mumbles amidst the shared air, “It doesn’t come off. You’ve cursed me.”

Smiling, you kiss his parted lips and whisper, “Sorry, Gyu.”

“It’s fine,” he taunts, narrowing his eyes, the contacts he wore making them appear sharper than ever, “If I’m gonna be covered in someone’s mess forever, I’d prefer it be yours.”

He hesitates a moment, watching with glee what his words do to your composure, turning you into utter mush before him. You part your lips to say something else, but he catches you off guard, jutting his chin forward to catch your lips in a heated kiss, biting down on your bottom lip, pulling away slowly.

“I need you naked,” he purrs, curling his lip, pressing his forehead to yours, “Now.”

Breathless, zoned into his enchanting eyes, you nod and hurry to pull your shirt off. Beomgyu’s eyes fall to your chest, his jaw falling open as he releases a heavy breath. His hands are quick to slide up your back to unhook the bra you’re wearing, exposing you further to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, guiding the straps down your shoulders, tossing it to the floor where it meets his jacket and shirt in a heap. “I missed this.”

“It’s been four days,” you laugh, kissing his cheek beside his lips. Your smile is wiped away and your laugh is replaced with a gasp as he grabs your breasts, dragging a finger over the sensitive buds, all while he takes his lips to your neck, digging his teeth into your skin. “Gyu,” you sigh, gripping his shoulders.

“Four days too long,” he groans, his hot breath sending a chill down your spine.

Sliding his hands around your waist, Beomgyu spins you around and walks you toward the vanity on the wall, eyeing you in the mirror. He looked completely ethereal behind you, sparkling under the lights, unnatural eyes on alert, and perfectly messy hair. Nuzzling his nose into your hair he breaths, then slides his hands over your breasts again.

His lips travel to behind your ear where he sends a breath down your neck, chilling your spine once more, then, keeping his eyes locked on yours, he presses a slow, sensual kiss to your skin, dragging his tongue over the spot right after.

Writhing in his grip you can’t help but whine, begging him for more. Rolling your hips backward into his you can feel how hard he is for you, you’re surprised he was putting up with this much teasing.

Neither of you needed much play to rile each other up, you’ve spent four days pining after one another. You’re sure if he touched you now you would properly implode.

“Beomgyu?” you whisper. He smirks at the use of his full name.

“Hm?” he hums, kissing you again.

Releasing a shaky breath, you sigh, “Please, fuck me.” He nearly moans into your ear.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he whispers with a smile.

Taking his hands to the waist of your pants, he gets them unbuttoned and around your ankles in seconds. Gently pushing your lower back, he leans you over the vanity, taking a couple of seconds to get his own button undone.

Watching him move you’re ready to pounce. You really could turn around, grip him by the neck and ride him into oblivion, but you were feeling more greedy for the Beomgyu that would use you for whatever he pleased.

Hands back around your waist, he presses his chest to your back, making sure you were comfortable where you stood. Taking his lips to your neck, he sucks at the skin below your jaw to leave behind a little piece of himself all while sliding a hand down one of your thighs, lifting your leg to prop it up on the ledge in front of you.

His fingers slip between your legs, his digits drawing circles over your soaked center, humming with delight at how ready you were for him. Letting out the prettiest sound he’s ever heard when he slips two fingers inside of you, he gives you one back, eyeing you in the mirror as his lips continue to ravage your neck.

“So pretty, baby,” he encourages, “Keep going.”

Glued to his eyes, it’s hard for you to focus on much else. His faerie-like beauty mixing with the way he pumped his slender fingers within you, drawing them out in a scissoring motion was overwhelming.

Moving them even faster as you moaned, you were falling apart.

“G-gyu,” you whine, “Need you… inside me.”

Beomgyu groans from his chest, slipping his fingers out of you swiftly and wastes no time, burying his cock deep inside of you. He sucks air through his teeth, gripping your waist tight, digging his fingernails into your skin. Face contorted with pleasure, he meets your eyes and whines, actually whines, and falls over you, leaning you halfway onto the vanity, catching yourself with your elbows.

Placing a hand over your shoulder onto the slab, Beomgyu throws the other around your body to hold you in place. It’d been four days, he was willing himself to not finish so fast, but with the way you were looking at him through the glass with upturned brows he wasn’t sure he could make any promises.

Little did he know you were telling yourself the same thing. With the way he held you and the way he was looking at you, it was all too much, it was predatorial, like you’d described it before, turning it up a degree too hot.

With one fluid motion Beomgyu pulls back, thrusting deep into you again, both of you groaning at the sparks that fly. Your heart was pounding so hard within your chest you were sure he could feel it like you could feel his breath down your neck.

“More,” you breathe. Blinking slowly, you swallowed hard, gasping as he thrust again with more power. He was so big, with every push of hips he knocked the air out of your lungs.

Clinging to you desperately he settles on a pace, rocking into you quick and rough, each stroke short, yet plenty enough to render you thoughtless. The vanity beneath you shook, the mirror obnoxiously banging into the wall that would give anyone in the next room an easy guess as to what was happening through the sheetrock.

“You feel so fucking good,” Beomgyu moans, each word coming out between a thrust. Arching backward you lean your head on his shoulder, tilting your chin to the left to actually look at him, instead of through the mirror. He was breathing heavily through his parted lips, his tongue popping out ever so often.

Meeting your gaze he smiles something devious and kisses your cheek, then turns his head completely sideways to nibble your earlobe, biting a little too hard. Letting out a pained moan, it’s hard to disguise how good it actually made you feel.

“Fuck, Gyu, do it again,” you breathe, and he laughs.

“Feels good, baby?” he obliges to your request, wrapping his lips around the soft bit of skin before he snags it with his teeth.

“So good,” you push your ass backward into his hips, arching yourself further, asking for more. Your body was radiating with heat, you could feel your thighs shaking.

Beomgyu takes his hand from around your body and grips your jaw, tugging your chin downward to where you could see him in the mirror. Pressing his cheek to yours, he picks up his pace- as if it were possible- and moans with you.

“You were such a good girl,” he coo’s, tightening his hold on your jaw, “Working so hard, waiting so patiently,” his voice is ragged, breathless, “How bad did you want my dick?”

Licking your lips, you mumble, “So bad.”

Beomgyu squeezes your jaw, turning his head a bit so his lips are nearly touching your cheek. His eyes still bore into yours.

“Speak up,” he grits his teeth, “How bad did you need me to fuck you? Little slut got to gawk at me for days, and I may as well have been naked. You loved it, I know you did, I’m sure you touched yourself every night just thinking about it.”

Your body trembles under him. His words draw your orgasm closer, and he was right. The sight of Beomgyu onset had you squeezing your thighs together, leaving you with a soaked pair of panties by the end of the night, though your fingers would never compare to having his cock sheathed within you, stretching your walls, filling you up completely, perfectly.

“You missed me using you, huh?” he continues to taunt, “Fucking your tight little hole for my own pleasure, hm? That’s all you are for me, baby? Nothing but a dumb slut for me to cum in whenever I want.”

Obscenities and moans flow out of you, you aren’t even quite sure you know what you’re saying. You’ve gone utterly speechless, unable to piece together simple sentences.

Beomgyu was reaching his limit. You may have had the pleasure of watching him around set, but he did just the same to you, never missing a moment to check you out. If he wasn’t feeling so animalistic he would’ve loved nothing more than to sit back on the couch and let you have your way with him.

Whimpering along with your sounds his eyes close and his brows turn up, the dom act dropping in an instant. Slipping a hand between your bodies he connects a finger to your swollen clit, swirling it around in a way that makes you see stars. Clenching around him, you cry out, your legs trembling.

A devilish smirk graces his lips as he glazes open his eyes. Taking him in, head to toe, watching him fuck you, your high is sparked and sent tumbling toward you.

“Cum on my cock like a good girl and I’ll cum inside you,” Beomgyu purrs into your ear, kissing the lobe. His words, along with how his fingers worked your sensitive nub, combined with his cock pounding into your leaking core sent you spiraling into your high.

Squeezing him tight, spasming around his girthy length, he has four more sloppy snaps of his hips before he’s unloading himself into you. A mumble of ‘good girl’ and ‘so fucking tight’ is thrown in the mix of your whines.

After a few pulses of his hips, stuffing you full, he slides out of you carefully. A soft, disappointed moan comes out of you at the loss of him, making him huff a laugh. Helping to place your leg back on the ground, he kisses the valley of your shoulder twice and sighs. “You can have more of me later.”

Spinning around in his arms on shaky knees, wrapping your hands behind his neck, you lean forward and give him a soft kiss. “Then I get to fuck you like the little slut you are.”

Your words threaten to make him hard again already, but he coerces it away with a deep breath. With a lazy smile he kisses you, then pulls you into a hug, an act that seems so innocent compared to what the two of you had just done, but made up for the lack of contact from the past four days.

Grazing his fingernails over your skin gently, Beomgyu presses another kiss to your shoulder and glances up to peek at your backside in the mirror. At the sight of your bare back he’s a giggling mess.

“What?” you question with a sneaky smile.

Beomgyu shakes his head, distracting you with a kiss. “I just missed you, that’s all.”

He didn’t have balls to tell you that from your neck to your thighs you were covered in tiny flecks of silver glitter, and that it was probably down the front of you as well.

If this was once a secret before, there’s a pretty good chance you were both about to be found out the second you stepped outside the dressing room door.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

TASTE. -> 'Haven' from the POV of Hyunjin. (Part Three of ?)

{ Read Part One here. Read Part Two here. }

summary: 'It was the most free I’ve felt in ages, it was liberating, and it was because of Felix. He wanted to get to know me, for me. He wanted to listen to me, to listen to me. He was genuine, and he cared.'

word count: 9k

warnings: 18+, infidelity themes all throughout, toxic friendships/relationships, sexual content, alcohol abuse, struggles with mental health themes, cursing, if I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

a/n: Part Three, oh my god. These people are still a mess. I was hoping this part would've accelerated us faster in the story, but I am unfortunately really enjoying this journey. Enjoy this, and please leave me your thoughts! YES, I had to name the female MC. If she has your name, congrats!

Sliding out from beneath the Ford I had been stuck under for half an hour, I sat up and drug my palm over my forehead without a doubt smudging some grease where I was hoping to wipe away sweat. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and already boiling hot. It was just me, myself and I in the garage today, as per usual, so I opened every tiny window and left the workshop door open, along with the door to our office.

Blink-182 was blasting from the radio, the volume nearly maxed out in an attempt to drown out any lingering thoughts that hung around my subconscious. These were the days I longed for. Days alone were peaceful, and quiet, aside from the music, and I could keep to myself, get my shit done, and not fuck anything, or anyone, up.

I knew cars better than people, I could fix them faster, too. Though, most times I drug my work out over a couple of days only because I enjoyed it that much.

It was almost like my brain could shut off when I was focused on work. I could do it with my eyes closed. And come to think of it, I actually have, on a dare, and I still repaired everything perfectly.

The two other guys that work in the garage with me, one of them the owner, both didn’t think I could do it. A couple of months ago when a BMW was sent our way with a screwed up starter motor, completely dead, the two of them grumbled over the task while I boasted about being able to replace it with my eyes shut. Neither believed me, so naturally beers were cracked open that night, we spent some extra hours in the garage, and I replaced the sucker with a bandana tied over my eyes with little help.

Talking about myself always made me uneasy, but if someone were to ask me what secret talents I had, I’d for sure brag about that. One of the sparse moments where I actually felt proud of myself.

Slapping a hand to the concrete beneath me I hoist myself to my feet and round the vehicle to get inside of it, being careful to not put my dusty boots on the clean carpet of the sedan. It was a silver Ford Taurus that belonged to a woman in her forties with two boys in intermediate school, so I wasn’t too worried if I left it a little dirty. The backseat gave off obvious signs that two boys around the age of ten occupied that space.

Shoving the key that sat in the cupholder into the ignition, I twisted it, and smiled as the car started. The woman, who’s name was Sharon, or Sherry, just dropped it off this morning with her kids and her husband who drove the three of them away in a pick up truck. Both adults had dropped complaints of other places taking a week to fix their vehicles problem, making them dish out hundreds of dollars for a small problem I took care of in a few hours. They were pleasantly surprised when I told them that it would be done today, and it would cost not even half of what they’ve had to pay before.

Sharon-Sherry almost gave me a hug, I thought the woman was going to fall to her knees. She placed a hand on my shoulder, thanking me a crap ton, babbling on and on about her boys and how they’re soccer players, and she needs the car to get them to practices and games, and her husband’s a cop and works weird hours… I learned a bit too much about her.

But, the woman cupped my cheek before she walked away to get into her husband's truck and she gave me a genuine smile. A smile that wrapped my heart in comfort. It was a mom's smile.

The comfort broke in half when she called after her boys, beckoning them to get into the truck.

“Shaun! Felix! Let’s go, your coaches are waiting!” she had waved at the boys that were kicking around the gravel rocks in front of the office door.

With a gulp I had taken a quick glance around the lot before I questioned her. “Felix?”

“My youngest,” she turned to me with a proud smile. “He and Shaun are a year apart. You never hear that name around here, do ya? Felix.”

At that moment I had wondered if she’d noticed my pale skin go even ghostlier. I had shaken my head and cleared my throat.

“No,” I answered. “It’s… one of a kind.”

Sharon-Sherry agreed with me, then continued on to her children, ushering them into their fathers running truck, making sure they were buckled before she jumped up into the passenger seat.

The happy family drove away, leaving me with their Ford and a pin in my heart.

A quiet day alone, lost in my work without haunting thoughts was what I wanted, and I almost had it.

Sitting back in Sharon-Sherry’s seat with my boots still hanging out of the door, I rest my head against the cushion and take a deep breath. I may have had the radio blasting, I may have been elbow deep in bolts and grease, I may have been on auto-pilot for three hours, but I couldn’t get those big brown eyes outta my head.

Even prior to his name being spoken he infected my mind.

Last night should’ve been a blur. It should’ve been a drunken blur, a second thought this morning when I rolled out of bed and got myself ready for work while Jade slept soundly between the sheets. Instead, it was the very first thing I thought of. Felix.

If he wasn’t such a nice person it would’ve pissed me off more than it kind of already did. I couldn’t be mad at him. He didn’t do anything wrong. It was my own screwed up brain that forced this shit upon me, every damn time. Incredibly annoying.

“Don’t do that,” I grumbled to myself, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my middle finger, closing my eyes tight. “I’m not annoying.” I repeat aloud what Felix had said to me last night.

On top of that, he also told me to talk to Jade. To talk things out with her, actually talk to her. And I didn’t do that. Not yet at least, last night she couldn’t even let me get a word in, but it’s not like I tried.

Regaining consciousness on the kitchen floor yesterday was a wake up call, and the following evening at Haven just added more fuel to the fire. Talking things out with Felix, admitting what I’ve done to someone other than Jade was a bitch slap to the face. Saying it aloud to someone on the outside of the situation really did make me sound clinically insane, and it was embarrassing. On top of the things I was feeling for Felix, the shame from fully realizing what I’ve done and why I’ve done it was suffocating.

I had to break up with Jade. If she wasn’t going to do it first, I had to be the one to break it off. Especially now that I think I’m harboring actual interested feelings for Felix.

He didn’t want to be one of the others, and I wasn’t about to make him one- as scary as it felt to think about getting involved with somebody else.

Jade still lingers after everything. Who’s to say Felix would stick around if something happened? He even said it himself last night that he would leave someone if they did to him what I’d already done to Jade.

Regardless, he stuck by my side yesterday. He seemed to care about me even after I let the shit spill. I should really just try to be his friend. I need to try to be his friend, before anything. He wasn’t someone I wanted to hurt.

Then again, Jade was once someone I never wanted to hurt.

“Jinnie?” Jade’s voice called into the garage from the driveway. Popping my eyes open I didn’t even realize I had closed, I sat forward and spotted her through the streaky windshield. I made a mental note to clean Sharon-Sherry’s windows for her before she came back to get her car.

Jade circled the Ford and stood beside the open door. “What’re you doing?” She was dressed for work, she was on the night shift this evening at the restaurant. Her hair was pulled out of her face and her colorful name tag sat to the left of her heart.

“Just… making sure the car started.”

“Your eyes were closed, I thought you fell asleep,” she said, her eyes taking me in up and down, and again. Shaking my head slowly, I start to smile.

“Not exactly,” I said. Turning the car off I dropped the keys into the cupholder and got out of Sharon-Sherry’s seat, taking the top of the door out of Jades hand and into my own so I could close it.

“Okay, good,” Jade nodded, taking a step backward so I could stand on my feet. “You shouldn’t be in here with the cars running, you know that.” Giving her a curious look I brought myself back around the front of the car to lift the hood. Jade followed right behind me.

“I know that,” I sighed, pulling on a few car parts, making sure everything was good to go. This family had to be called as soon as possible. “You know I know that, but I’ve gotta get it out of here somehow.” Leaning against the car with my elbows, I turned to look at her. She was wearing her nervous eyebrows, though she was trying to hide them. She’s made this face every single time I started to bring up a… girl.

“Yeah,” her voice was soft. “I know you know… I just… got worried about you.” Her eyes fell to the motor of the car, glancing around at all the different parts.

“Are you okay?” I asked after a bout of silence between us. The radio was still blaring nonsense. Jade met my gaze and took a quick breath.

“Yeah, yeah, no, I’m fine,” she shook her head, “I just… Are you okay?”

I stood up straight, resting a hand to the small of my back.

“I’m fine.”

Jade’s eyes begged me to say more, but I didn’t know if I could. Here I was hoping I’d have a little more time at work before I had to go home and try to talk things out with her, but she showed up unannounced. She’s never done this, even back when things were good. Work was separate for us, our own thing.

She waited a couple more seconds for me to say more, but realizing that I wasn’t going to, she rolled her eyes the slightest and dug into the purse she had over her shoulder.

“Here,” she said, handing me a bottle of water that was still kind of cold. I assumed this was her excuse to mask why she had actually come here.

Taking it carefully I gave her a small smile. “Thanks,” I said, and almost inquired why she was being nice to me, or acting funny.

Then she said the words that made my heart stop.

“Felix called.”

Maintaining my composure I cracked the water open and took a long sip, the coolness relieving the heat I’d been baking under. Swooshing the liquid around my mouth for a bit, I swallowed and nodded, slowly. Then I met her gaze.

“What’d he want?” I asked in the most monotonous tone I could’ve ever conjured up. Jade folded her arms over her chest and sighed.

“He… Jinnie, he wanted to know if you were okay,” she said, her eyebrows knotting together. Whispering, she took a step closer to me, “He told me what happened.”

The anxiety I had been suppressing since I saw her face began to bubble up. That was a vague ass sentence.

He told me what happened.

Felix probably told her that I came onto him in the parking lot of Haven. Stupidly drunk, I forced myself upon him and tried to kiss him. He had to tell Jade as soon as humanly possible, to protect her from the lies I would spread. It was nauseating how I couldn’t keep it in my pants, and everyone agreed. It’s me, I’m the problem, and every single one of them knows it.

“He said you had a panic attack,” Jade said, ripping me out of my tomb of a brain. “You haven’t had one… in forever.”

The breath I took was painful, but full of utmost relief. Out of all of the things Felix could’ve shared with Jade, I’m not excited it had to be this, but it was better than the latter.

“Um, yeah,” I mumbled, crinkling the plastic bottle between my dirty fingers. There wasn’t a reason to lie, or to pretend like it didn’t happen. She looked pretty beat up about it so I’m not sure there was much more I could say to make her feel worse.

Although… I could tell her I’d been having them almost daily…

“Why didn’t you tell me,” she said.

“I didn’t want to ruin your night,” I shrugged.

Jade rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t ruin my night, why would you think that?”

Shrugging again, I take another gulp of water.

“Stop doing that,” she mimicked my shoulders and swatted a hand toward me, “Talk to me. Why would you think you’d ruin my night if you didn’t feel good?”

Dropping my arms by my side I pressed my lips together and held in a sigh. Toying with the bottle in front of my chest nervously, I half shrugged, then rolled my head back with a groan.

“I told you I didn’t feel good,” I whispered.

“What?” Jade cocked her head to the side, pointing an ear toward me. Clenching my jaw, I dropped my soft glare to hers.

“I told you. Last night. I didn’t feel good,” I said clearly. Watching the gears shift in her brain behind her gorgeous eyes, I finished the water she brought me and walked away from her to toss it into the garbage just on the inside of the office door.

When I turned back around I found that she hadn’t moved a muscle. Her eyes were checking me out, though. She loved it when I looked like this.

Last summer I’d do it on purpose. Smear some grease on my forehead, dirty my jeans, rip the neck of my t-shirt just a bit so that when she got her teeth on it she’d be able to tear it right off of me. I truly, honestly, don’t know what it is about girls finding guys attractive when they’re an absolute mess.

I’d come home sweaty, smelling like an old garage with bandages around my fingers, and she was a sucker for it. Personally, I didn’t get it.

“When did you tell me that?” she asked, and I immediately envisioned how she looked beside Chan last night.

“You asked me to dance with you, and I didn’t want to,” I said. She averted her gaze, glancing around the garage that was in disarray. It seemed this discussion was going to go on longer than expected, so I continued my work. Closing the hood of the Ford, I turned on the heels of my boots and started to straighten up the mess I had made.

“Nelly Furtado,” she said quietly. Giving her a look over my shoulder, I huffed a laugh and shook my head. “Oh, c’mon, I love Nelly Furtado.” The smile that danced on her lips convinced me to smile.

“Oh, I know,” I copied her tone, putting a couple of tools into a metal drawer, then I muttered to myself, “Can’t believe that’s what that makes you think of.”

“I was dancing with Chan, right?”

“Sure were,” I sang, bending over to gather a wrench that laid partially beneath a tire- where I wished to be at the moment.

“Why do you have to say it like that?” her tone took a wicked turn.

Tossing the wrench into the drawer, I spun around with furrowed brows. “…What?”

“You make it sound like I was doing something wrong, like it’s a crime to have fun with my friends.”

Taking a breath, I grumbled, “I never said that.”

“Then, how come, every time Chan gets brought up you get all pissy. You know he’s my best friend, you’ve never been able to accept that. Whenever he’s around…”

I turned it off.

Whichever part of my anatomy was listening to her, I turned it off.

I finished straightening up my work space in the minutes it took for her to tell me off, leaving me with enough time to hear her say, “You don’t even try with Minho anymore.”

I’ve never moved faster, turning myself around to flash her a glare that could kill.

“Don’t I?” I balled my fingers into fists.

“He says you don’t.”

“You saw us last night at the bar, right? We were having a fantastic time,” I sneered. “Didn’t it seem like it?”

Jade, who still had her arms folded, shrugged. “I guess, I dunno, I was a little drunk.”

“Then let me clear it up for you,” I said, taking three steps toward her. “He found me after the panic attack Felix told you all about.” Her eyes show no sign of cracking, she was maintaining her ground. I wasn’t even sure when this became a competition. “Me and Felix were fine, things were good, I was good, and then he came over with his little puppy dog on a leash, and the two of them harassed Felix.”

If she wasn’t going to question what Minho made me think she was going to question- I was not going to bring it up.

“What they said, the word they used?” I couldn’t imagine what my face looked like. “Felix doesn’t care who knows he’s gay, he told us himself months ago that he’s been out since he was fifteen.”

Jade blinked a couple of times and focused down on the concrete.

“Your friends made a shitty move,” I said, nodding. “There isn’t a person on earth who should use that word. It’s disgusting.”

“My friends,” she said, looking back up at me.

“Yeah,” I dug. “Your friends. My friends don’t talk to people that way.”

Her lips parted to throw something back at me, but she hesitated and snapped her jaw shut. I knew what she wanted to say. I could see it on her face.

What friends?

“I didn’t know that happened,” she opted to say instead. Folding my hands together I let them dangle in front of my thighs as I leaned backward to rest my body against one of the workbenches.

“Well, it’s not like Felix was just gonna tell anybody he got belittled, was he?”

Jade jabbed a finger toward her heart. “He’s my friend too, Jinnie. They all are. Felix is too nice, he’s not going to start something for no reason.”

My temper almost snapped. “No reason? They fucking called him-”

“Don’t yell at me! I’m not the one who said it,” her own anger shone in her eyes, much like mine. “God, we can’t even have one conversation without you screaming.”

“Without- are you kidding?” I sighed heavily, a sadistic smile appearing on my lips. “If you listened to me I wouldn’t have to do that.”

Jade snickered and shook her head. “And what am I supposed to do with…” her voice trailed off as she dropped her arms to her side and slouched over a bit. With her voice flat as can be, shot me an empty look to groan, “This.” She stood up and adjusted her posture. “So annoying.”

My heart twisted. It twisted until I thought I was going to go dizzy and fall to the dusty ground of this garage.

“Yet you’re still with me,” I muttered as loud as I could. Her expression went wild. There were a few seconds of silence. I thought it had happened, that this was the break up. It was extremely unclear what this entire discussion had done, but one thing was for sure, neither of us knew how to fix it.

“Felix mentioned he’s free tonight if you want to hang out at Haven,” Jade said quickly. “So you don’t have to be alone, and so he can… check in with you about yesterday.”

The sudden switch in subjects made it obvious that Jade didn’t have anything else to say. That, or she didn’t want to follow my comment up with a single thought of her own.

And that was what I was dying for most.

The anger boiling beneath my skin calmed like crazy at the mention of Felix and his invitation, but it was weird to feel excited about seeing him while standing here in front of Jade.

If I was going to be his friend though, it was normal. This was normal. Two friends going out for a drink to catch up, to hang out, to chill. That’s what people did with one another.

Jade’s mask slipped for half of a second as she watched me ponder over the invite, and I knew I could tell that she was worried.

“I had no idea you two were that close,” she said. Shrugging in response, not to purposely annoy her, I folded my arms over my torso.

“It’s probably just because of last night,” I said. “He’s- You know what he does for work… right?”

“I do,” Jade nearly snapped. She took in my quiet being for a minute before she said, “Have fun, I guess.” She started to walk out of the garage, taking her time, letting her feet drag over the ground like she had more to say. “Don’t drink too much,” she mumbled.

Popping my brows, I said, “Don’t have to worry about that, Felix is a good boy.” Jade glanced back at me fast, pausing her stroll.

“Right,” she narrowed her eyes.

“No, I mean it,” I said. “He didn’t even drink last night. If it’s just us I don’t know if I’ll even have one.” The derogatory chuckle that slipped past her lips made me sick.

“Okay,” was all she said before leaving me alone in the garage, either heading to work early or stopping by Chans for a while to complain about me.

I didn’t have much brain power left to process what had just happened, so instead of letting it bug me I decided to push it aside and bring it up later with Felix. I knew he was going to ask about it, he could probably help me decipher whether or not this relationship could be patched up- if I ask him as a friend.

Turning the radio off I snatch a towel from the workbench to pat down my forehead to my neck, and sling it around my shoulders as I take myself into the office and sit back in one of the black leather swiveling chairs. There were two in this single roomed building, black leather chairs from my boss's old home that his wife wanted to get rid of. This entire room was full of things he wasn’t allowed to keep anywhere else. Old baseball photos were on the wall and his desk, knick knacks of all sorts from trips and kids projects littered the shelves… It was homey in the best way.

Taking a breath in the cool air, I sit quietly for a couple of minutes and let my brain go blank. No thoughts of Jade, no thoughts of Haven, no thoughts of break ups, but a tiny, miniscule thought lingered behind. A thought that made me consider calling Felix instead of Sharon-Sherry first, just to tell him that I’d meet him at the bar tonight.

Snatching the phone off the set I press it to my ear, the flat dial tone buzzing without end. Staring down at the numbers, I hesitated, then huffed a laugh. I didn’t know his number by heart. I’d have to wait until Sharon-Sherry picked up her car to call him from home. Gathering the appropriate paperwork, I gave the woman a ring and told her the Ford was ready, acquiring another sweet set of words from her motherly instincts. It’s as if she could tell I grew up without one.

The family showed up within the hour, all four of them pulling up in the husbands pick up that desperately needed new tires, but I figured I’d let them come to me when they were ready. Already complaining about other companies' prices prior to their appointment with me, they didn’t need another expense right this second.

Their sons tumbled out of the backseat in their soccer jerseys with dirty knees and disheveled hair, trailing directly behind their mother like little ducks in a row. They hurried to the car and peeked around at it, babbling questions to me, asking me how I fixed it and what I had done.

Sharon-Sherry, who was actually Shelley, was talking over them as any mother would and took care of her bill with another soft smile. She thanked me for cleaning the windows that I had done while I waited for them to arrive, cupped my cheek one last time, and ushered her children into the vehicle.

The youngest, Felix, turned around to look at me where I stood in the doorway of the office, propped against the doorway on my shoulder. He smiled wide, missing a front tooth, waved, and said, “Thank you for helping my mom!”

Children were strange little beings. I didn’t exactly hate them, but I didn’t love them. This one, however, with chubby cheeks and a red Gatorade stain on his upper lip- this one was adorable. He got me to smile, and he even got a small wave in return.

Jumping up into the Ford, the boy reached to shut the door with two of his hands and buckled his seatbelt once he was settled. Listening to his mother as she spoke to the two of them, Shelley started the car and didn’t give me another look. Felix did, though. As his mother pulled out of the garage, he smiled at me until his little head couldn’t turn any further.

Shelley seemed like a good mom. I guess kids weren’t all that bad, it just mattered who was raising them.

Closing up shop, I left the paystub on my boss’s desk and clocked out, locking the office door on the front of the building. Leaving through the one that took me into the garage, I locked it as well and gathered my things from the shelf above one of the toolboxes, shoving my wallet deep into my back pocket.

It took me fifteen minutes total to get home after I pulled the garage shut. Taking my time once I got to my building, for no other reason than to possibly avoid Jade, I unlocked my apartment door quietly. Stepping inside into the air conditioning and closed curtains, nobody was home. I was unsure why it irked me though, Jade not being here. It’s not like after the argument we had she’d be here waiting for me, so why was I expecting her to be?

Over by the phone there was a small piece of paper with Felix’s name written on it followed by a number, in Jades handwriting. The tiny smiley face below it that she had drawn must’ve been an attempt to lessen the blow after coming to confront me at work. She was meticulous, she knew I’d come home and see it, she knew we were going to have a blown out of proportion conversation because that's how we rolled.

If she was out for the night, then so be it. I was too.

Dialing his number I waited with baited breath for the thick Aussie accent to bless my ears, and when it did swiftly, and deeply, I smiled bigger than I had all day.

“Hello?” Was all he had to say to flood my chest with warmth.

“Hi,” I began, twisting the phone cord around my finger. “I, uh, got your message.”

“Hyunjin,” it seemed Felix sighed. “Hey, how are you?”

“Fine,” my shoulders wanted to live beside my ears today. “Just got home from work, I need a shower.” A gentle laugh rumbled through the line from his end and I wanted to claw my fingers in my hair.

“Busy day?” Felix asked. Leaning my back against the counter top, the phone cord wrapped around my torso, stretching with me as I spun around.

“Not really,” I said. “Today was easy, only one appointment.”

“Was it something crazy?” It sounded like Felix had just woken up. Either that or he was really comfortable, relaxed. His voice was twice as deep as usual.

“Not at all, typical maintenance stuff I guess,” I said. “The lady was nice. She had a kid that had your name. He was a trip.” Nibbling my bottom lip, I smiled even wider hearing another laugh come through the phone.

“He’s a bad kid?”

Shaking my head as if he could see me before I answered, I said, “No. Not at all. He was respectful.”

“That’s really sweet,” Felix said. I could tell he was smiling too.

“I met him before I fixed up their car,” I said, then my voice dropped several decibel’s. “Made me think of you.”

Felix took a deep breath, I could hear it. There's a slight rustling around on his side, like he was sitting up, or laying down, either one, before he said, “I was thinking about you too.”

“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself in the process,” I joked, and he scoffed straight away.

“Don’t you dare start self-deprecating already,” he laughed again.

I couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Sorry, it’s a habit I guess.”

“Enough of it,” he said. “You sound like you’re having a much better day than yesterday, don’t sabotage it.”

Bobbing my head, I pressed my lips together. “Does it sound terrible if I say that’s because I spent most of the day alone?”

His end is quiet for longer than before, Felix pondering over what I’ve said. It did sound terrible to say that aloud, and the more time between him saying things made it worse.

“No,” he finally spoke, and I released a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “I mean, maybe, but… You know when you feel your best, it’s okay to chase that feeling, you should chase that feeling.”

“Great, so I’ll see you at seven?” I sighed quickly, catching him right at the end of his sentence. Felix is silent once more.

“Yeah,” he nearly whispered. “I’ll see you at seven. Enjoy your shower.” We both laughed together before muttering quiet goodbyes.

The call made me feel good. I was going to chase that feeling.

A few minutes past seven I tiptoed into Haven. There weren’t any recognizable cars in the parking lot so it seemed like I was in the clear, even though I was meeting Felix here as a friend. Anxiety holed up in my chest below my heart on the drive over here. Running into other people who are considered my friends wasn’t on the to do list for the evening, and I wasn’t prepared to deal with it.

Yanking the heavy door open, another thing I wanted to change about this place, I walked straight over to the bar without a single glance anywhere else. I beelined for a stool, I almost ran. With a deep breath I rested my elbow on the wood and placed my chin on my fist.

The music was loud and made me cringe, and the people nose to nose that occupied every square inch of the concrete floor were speaking at a volume that had them yelling at one another. Amazing Haven.

A familiar face greets me from behind the bar, her curly blonde hair pulled back into a twisted bun tonight instead of dangling at her shoulders. With a smile she leaned forward and pointed behind me.

“Are you supposed to be over there?” Dina asked cheekily, giggling as I whipped my head to follow her direction. Felix was sitting at one of the high top tables in the back corner with his legs crossed and his thumb nail between his teeth.

His blonde hair wasn’t styled, it was unruly and free, just brushing his eyelashes and the nape of his neck. Around his neck he wore a skinny silver chain that hugged his skin snuggly, complimenting the pastel blue t-shirt he was wearing. As my eyes drew further down his body, my breath hitched within my throat. The shirt was cropped at the bottom, resting above the waist of his jeans, and with the way he was sitting with his legs crossed, one side had risen exposing the smallest sliver of sun kissed skin.

“He got here a few minutes ago,” Dina said, popping her brows when I looked at her. “Wandered in here with his eyes all big. I was wondering who he was looking for ‘cause none of your other friends are here.” She smirked. “Now it makes sense.”

Clearing my throat, I tucked my dark, clean hair behind my ear and shifted on the stool awkwardly. “You got to know us pretty fast.”

Dina shrugged. “Yeah, well, Minho works here. He talks about you guys all the time.”

Rolling my eyes I muttered, “I’m sure he does.” Glancing at Felix who hadn’t spotted me yet, his eyes were drawn to the people dancing in the middle of the room, I spun back around and leaned toward Dina. “Can I get a water… and a Sprite.”

“Water and a Sprite,” she smiled. “Go sit with your boyfriend, I’ll bring it back to you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said quickly and quietly, my eyes probably ogling out of my head. That would’ve been a fun one for her to tell Minho. Peeking at whoever was beside me, praying it wasn’t a muscley man, I asked, “Why would you even think that?” My stomach flopped. Dina nodded her head slow, letting her eyes draw from Felix to me.

She whispered, “I’m gay.”

“Oh,” I sighed. Relief rushed through my veins. There was something comforting about her telling me this, having only known me for about twenty four hours.

“I could feel it between you two,” she said. “Friends don’t giggle at each other the way you two were gigglin’ at each other, dude. Plus, everytime you look at him you stink the place up with your fuckin’ pheramones like a lady in-”

“Okay!” I laughed, slapping a hand on the wood to cut her off. Dina grins, proud. Dropping my gaze to the bar, I released a breath and slouched a bit.

“I won’t say anything,” she said, making me look up at her. The look on her face read understanding, and safety. “I heard Han and Minho last night, what they were saying. I’m actually a little disappointed ‘cause I thought Minho was cool.”

Another roll of my eyes was a satisfying response to her.

“I get it,” she said. “That’s what I mean. And I’m hoping this place doesn’t turn into a homophobe sanctuary.” She laughed at herself. “You’re safe with me. Now, go. You look happy when you talk to him.”

I followed her instruction and stood up, facing the back of the bar with my lips pressed together. Waiting for only a few seconds, I took a deep breath and started for Felix. Felix who looked really pretty. Glancing down to myself and my dark clothes I only hoped that he wouldn’t judge what I was wearing, it seemed he always knew how to dress himself, I didn’t want to look like a schlub next to him.

His sharp jaw was clenched, pointed directed toward the dance floor, he barely noticed me walking toward him until I was a few feet away. Shooting me a look with wide eyes, he broke out into a small smile and sat forward, his arms still folded over his chest.

“Hi,” he said, watching me as I sat down in the chair across from him. The round table put about two feet of space between us.

“Hey,” I said, sitting backward, smiling at him. He didn’t respond right away, instead his gaze was fixated on mine, then it danced around my appearance, probably analyzing me, or whatever his therapist brain was trained to do. The smile was still on his face though, despite him studying my energy.

“How was your shower?” he teased, laying his hands on the table.

Shaking my head, I laughed. “Was fantastic, thanks for asking.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m glad it was fantastic, you deserve it.”

If anyone was looking, if there was a single soul watching us, I’m positive our cheesy grins were insufferable. Neither of us had stopped.

“Did you work today?” I asked. His brown eyes softened as he shook his head.

“Not today,” he said. “I get off on Thursdays, but I’ll be there all day tomorrow.”

“Thursday’s your only day off?” I asked, my smile dropping finally, pulling into a frown.

Felix shook his head. “During the week it is, I still have weekends.”

Dina approached our table with two glasses in one hand and two shots in the other, making Felix question me with his brows. “Here we go boys,” she said happily. Then, with a wink to us both she said, “Enjoy. This rounds on me, but, shift change.” She gestured toward the bar. “I’ll see you guys again.”

Felix had the view of her walking away, and once she was out of ear shot he flashed me a grin. “What is this?”

Picking up the shot she had placed in front of me, I smelled it and huffed a laugh. “I only ordered the drinks, I didn’t know she was gonna do this.” Tipping the shot glass toward him I shrugged. “You don’t have to drink it.”

“Is this what I think it is?” he asked, taking a sip of the soda out of the straw. To his delight, he smacked his lips once and laughed aloud, swatting one of my hands. “You’re so funny.” Nibbling my bottom lip I glanced at my lap and blushed, smiling entirely too big.

“I had to,” I said. “You love it.” Our eyes met as he took another sip and nodded.

Placing the glass on the table, Felix said, “I’m flattered you remember.”

“It was only last night,” I shrugged, furrowing my brows the slightest.

“Yeah, but, you were drinking,” he said, his tone calm enough that it didn’t disrupt my nervous system. “Things get a little blurry.”

“Something like that,” I agreed, bobbing my head. Felix gave me a soft smile, then took both shot glasses in his hands and insisted I take it. “What?” I questioned, raising a brow.

“Let’s do it,” he said. Cupping the little glass, I dropped my chin just enough to eye him curiously. “I’m serious!”

“You don’t have to.” My tentative tone made him pout. Now my nervous system has jolted. Those big eyes and squished lips were dangerous. I’ve never had so many butterflies in my stomach at once. “You work tomorrow, and it’s just us here, we don’t need to drink, I mean.”

A foot of his stretches underneath the table to tap one of my ankles. “You really are funny,” he said. “I can handle a shot, Hyunjin.” I retaliate and tap his ankle next, but with both of my feet to trap it.

“I just wanted to make sure,” I said, letting my voice lilt playfully. Sitting forward to rest my chest against the table, I squeeze his ankle between my feet and tug it toward me. His entire chair moved beneath him, the legs scooting closer to the table, closer to me.

“Oh my god!” he laughed, gripping the edge of the wood. Letting his leg go free, placing mine on the rungs of the chair below, I held the shot up toward him and smirked. Felix copied me, a shit eating smirk appearing on his lips as he held the shot out.

Under the table his foot found mine again, but this time it danced up my shin as he re-crossed his own legs, letting his foot rest against the inside of my knee. Perking a brow, he tapped the rim of his glass to mine and knocked it back without a cringe to my amazement. Someone doing a shot shouldn’t be as hot as that was.

He put the glass down and licked his lips, dragging his thumb over the bottom one all while keeping his eyes locked on mine. My parted lips gave me away, and he laughed.

“C’mon,” he mumbled, taking the glass from me. Watching him move, he pressed the glass to my lips and tipped it backward, my body following the unspoken directions, tilting my chin back so the vodka could go right down my throat. He didn’t have to say a word, my body reacted to him in an instant.

I swallowed and looked at him. We were both shocked by what had just happened, his hands were frozen in front of me holding an empty shot glass.

Last night Felix told me he didn’t do cheaters. Last night Felix stopped me from making a mistake by kissing him. I hadn’t told him a lick of what has happened with Jade since then, and here he was dangling his foot between my knees and caressing my chin with his fingers feeding me a shot of alcohol.

It must’ve been a collective realization because he quickly pulled his leg back, shifting sideways in his chair to lean against the back of it, putting more space between us. His ring filled fingers were folded and placed in his lap where I couldn’t reach them.

“Sorry,” he said with a single nod. I still hadn’t moved, I was leaning over the wood.

“S’okay,” I laughed. “You got me back for yesterday.”

Felix closed his eyes for a moment to laugh with me. “So, what? We’re even now?” he asked, flashing me a look.

Pursing my lips, I nodded. “Yeah, we’re even.”

“So, we can start over?” he asked. Cocking my head sideways, I narrowed my eyes. “Last night, and… now. We can start over. It never happened.”

“Oh,” I sighed. What an interesting concept, starting over. If it was possible for Felix, I’m sure it’d be possible for me as well. “Yeah, we can start over.” The smile that took over his plush lips made me melt.

“So, Hyunjin,” Felix started, resting his arms on the table, leaning toward me once again. “What do you do for work?” The playful, sarcastic interest in his eyes made me laugh. This was going to be too much fun.

An hour or so passed and the two of us had talked about absolutely everything. Felix heard about work, and I heard about his, and after the jokes had dissipated things got a little more serious and I brought up Jade and what had happened earlier today in the garage. Not a detail was spared, he heard it all. For some reason, around Felix, no matter what we were discussing, I was unable to hide anything.

He told me about their phone call, and he apologized for telling Jade about my panic attack, but he assumed that she and I would’ve talked when we had gotten home. I told him what happened instead, leaving out the part where he was on my mind.

Okay, maybe I was able to hide something from him. This was still brand new, and I wanted him to be a friend, and we technically just started over, so I didn’t want to ruin anything.

Another hour after that we were discussing our families, and I found out that he was a middle child sandwiched between sisters who lived in Australia together. His entire family moved out here a couple of years ago because of his father and work, but once his eldest sister was of age she moved back home with the youngest of the three. By that time Felix had been close to graduating and was already working where he’s currently employed, so he decided to stay.

Discussing my family wasn’t on my list of favorite things to do, so when the conversation shifted over to myself I attempted to ask him more about his. Felix, directly beside me, having switched seats at some point within the night, shook his head and insisted that I tell him about my life, that he wanted to hear about it.

A part of me didn’t want to because of the therapist within him, but then again the other part of me had never been asked about myself on this level of depth. Nor had anyone ever wanted to listen, or wanted to know.

It came out slow, and he hung onto every word, keeping quiet, letting me tell my story the way that I wanted to. He didn’t interrupt, even to ask why. The slight raise in brows in the center of his forehead was enough to keep me going, to keep me talking. Even when I brought up what high school was like with my drunk of a father, how he’d stopped caring long before I even went in, and I had to hold the four years together on my own, and that was when I had started drinking myself… Felix took my arm in his hand and caressed the muscle with his thumb, his gaze holding an ocean of empathy for me.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, inches away from me.

With a shrug I said, “It’s okay. That’s over now.”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” Felix asked, squeezing my arm for support.

“The truth?” I questioned, and he nodded. “When I graduated from school. High school.” The way his face screwed up in pain as if he was the one to go through what I had hurt my heart. This empathetic creature had a big storm coming if he wanted to keep me close. “I moved in with Changbin as soon as possible, then we went to college together.”

“How’d you get through school?” he asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

I shifted closer to him, letting my shoulder rest against his. “No, it’s fine,” I said. “I, uh, reached out to my family when I wanted to go, while I was still in my senior year, and my grandfather- My moms dad. He helped me some of the way. I think in some ways I thank my mom, like she was looking out for me, or something, I dunno it probably sounds cheesy. I ended up getting a scholarship ‘cause I’m pretty good at school believe it or not. Think I get that from her, ‘cause I sure don’t get it from my dad.”

Felix was focused on my lips while I spoke, and his body weight was falling into mine like he couldn’t get close enough.

“That’s beautiful,” he said quietly, and I looked over at him. Our noses were inches apart. “She gave you a part of her to keep.” I smiled.

“I got her face, too,” I joked, wiggling my brows. “I look just like her.”

Felix smiled, eyes studying my features. “She must’ve been positively stunning.”

“She was,” I whispered. “She was kind, too. And she loved to sing.” Felix took one of my hands in his, for comfort, unsure of how this was going to make me feel. Talking about my mother was hard, but around Felix it came easy.

“Do you like to sing?” he asked, the corners of his lips perking up. My eyes went wide as I shook my head.

“I’m not very good,” I half-groaned, making him laugh his beautiful laugh.

“When do you ever get the chance to?” he drew on. “I’m sure you’re good, don’t doubt yourself.” His fingers messed around with mine.

“If I'm in the garage alone, maybe I will,” I said. “Or, if I’m driving alone, maybe.”

“So no one’s ever heard you sing?” Felix squinted mischievously.

I smiled. “I try not to make unnecessary noise.” He laughs again, his head falling to my shoulder as the sound blesses my ears. “I’m serious!” I exclaimed. “Did I not just tell you about my dad? You think he wanted me to be singing around our house?!” The more things I said, the harder he laughed, but I knew he wasn’t laughing at me. “The guy passed out at two in the afternoon, I’m sure he would’ve loved being awoken by me belting Celine Dion when I got home from grade school.”

“Oh god, you’re gonna kill me!” Felix wrapped his arm that wasn’t occupied by my hand around his stomach, taking deep breaths to calm himself. Still face down on my shoulder, the laughter started up again as soon as it stopped.

“Now what?” I giggled with him.

“I’m sorry,” he sucked in a breath, “I can just imagine you as a kid scream singing in the shower or something, I just-” Lifting his head, there were tears rimming his eyes, and the sight was enough to make me lose it. Slapping the table a few times, Felix tips his head backward and screeches, “ANNND I-”

Several heads turn, unappreciative of the spontaneous display of Whitney Houston from the Aussie. With a cackle, I reach my other arm across him and pull him into my chest to shut him up. “I could’ve been Celine Dion herself, these people don’t know talent,” Felix said quickly between laughs and gulps of air.

My eyes shot open wide. “Who?!” Felix twists his brows and tilts his head. “Celine Dion? What? Who sings that song?”

“Whitney Houston!?” I cried, rocking us back and forth as we laughed even harder.

“I don’t know my women,” he said, sitting up in my arms to wipe the tears out of his eyes. My arms fell around his back, above his waist. The cropped shirt he was wearing had moved amongst the laughter, so my hands were barely touching the bare skin of his hips.

“I don’t expect you to,” I said softly, teasingly. Felix dropped his hands into my lap and sighed with a goofy grin, his head lulling to the right.

As chaos ensued within Haven around us, the air between us fell still, and quiet. It wasn’t awkward, if anything it felt right, like this was where we were supposed to be- making fools out of ourselves when neither of us were drunk, not giving a shit about what people thought of us. It was the most free I’ve felt in ages, it was liberating, and it was because of Felix. He wanted to get to know me, for me. He wanted to listen to me, to listen to me. He was genuine, and he cared.

And the way his eyes shifted in this moment gave me a scare. A small one. I knew mine had changed as well, so it should’ve been no surprise. The strength in our gazes was incredibly magnetic, that once the world got dizzy, our foreheads touched, and I was looking down at him, feeling my heart flutter at the way he gazed up through his long lashes.

A hand slid up behind my neck, Felix’s fingers tangling in the hair on the nape of my neck, his nails on my scalp sending a shiver down my spine. Lips parted, he smiled, and his big eyes closed, as did mine.

I could’ve flatlined right then and there.

He kissed me. He, Felix, kissed me.

It wasn’t a chaste, delicate kiss either. Felix kissed me in a way that rendered me thoughtless, like he’d been waiting years for this. His fingers tightened in my hair, keeping me close. Resting my hands on his back, I slid them up his shirt and pressed my fingers into his muscle, sighing within the kiss. He was tiny, but he was strong, I could literally feel it.

Between shared air and more kisses, his fingers twirled my hair around, messing with it to his heart's content. His rings nudged my scalp, the coolness of the metal adding to the comforting sensation.

And it was over before I knew it. Felix’s hand slipped down to my shoulder as he pulled away, sitting backward to look at me. I couldn’t read his expression, it was a mix of lust and uncertainty.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Taking my hands from around his back to his knees, I lowered my brows and shook my head.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I loved that.”

Felix pressed his lips together sheepishly. “Me too. I thought about that all night last night.”

Releasing a breath, I half laughed. “I thought about you all night last night.” Felix narrowed his eyes, remembering what I told him I did last night. “And I mean, all night.”

He took a deep breath. “What do you say, we have a drink, just one, then we can go? I work early, and this place is starting to give me a headache, anyway.” I accepted this as his acknowledgement, and smiled.

“I’d love one,” I said.

“Perfect,” he sighed, jumping out of the chair. “I’ll go, you stay here. Don’t run away on me.” He signaled to me and his eyes with two of his fingers and waltzed towards the bar without saying anything else.

Turning to face the table completely, straightening my posture out, I sat backward and scanned my surroundings, not realizing the place had filled up entirely while Felix and I had sat here for hours. Thursdays were popular, I guess, but then again, like always, this place was always full. Crossing my arms, I watched the people dance to the music and it didn’t make me want to vomit. For some reason, tonight it was tolerable.

Felix came back faster than he was gone, empty handed.

Sitting up, I smiled and started to ask, “Hey, do you maybe wanna-”

“Nope,” he said, his tone hushed and rushed. “I think we should go.”

My mouth was still open, mid-question asking, so I opted for a nod.

“Uh, sure, yeah we can-”

“Minho’s at the bar,” Felix said. Shift change, Dina had told us. I didn’t even put two and two together.

Rage filled my entire being. Tightening my fists, I clenched my jaw just the same.

“What’d he say to you,” I growled.

Felix shook his head. “Nothing, I didn’t even make it up there. I saw him, and he saw me, and the look on his face, I just… He clearly saw me before I saw him, so I don’t know what else he saw.” There was a quiver in Felix’s voice that I had never heard before, it sounded like worry. And I was well aware of what came after worry. And I’ll be damned if it’s Minho who makes Felix feel that way.

“I swear to god,” I grumbled, leaping from my chair with persistence. Seconds away from storming over to the bar, Felix caught me by the arm and held me back. Turning, I looked down at him and his pleading eyes.

“Don’t,” he said firmly. “Let’s just go.”

“But, he-”

“No,” Felix said, giving my arm a squeeze. “We’re leaving. Please.”

His ‘please’ must’ve hit me just right.

We were out of that bar without a measly second glance at Minho.

I knew some damage had been done. There was no way I was getting out of this one. This time I had a witness.

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

TASTE. -> 'Haven' from the POV of Hyunjin. (Part Two of ?)

{ Read Part One here. }

summary: Hyunjin finds himself conflicted. He didn't think he'd be able to find someone he liked as much as Jade.

word count: 7k

warnings: 18+, infidelity themes all throughout, toxic friendships/relationships, sexual content, alcohol abuse, struggles with mental health themes, cursing, if I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

a/n: Part Two, oh my god. These people are a mess. Enjoy this, and please leave me a message of your thoughts! YES, I had to name the female MC. If she has your name, congrats!

A mere solemn glance toward the bodies grinding together on the dance floor isn’t enough to appease Felix. I even gave my shoulders a shrug, a small one to emphasize the fact that I myself don’t even know what’s happening with Jade.

His shift of tone had me in shock, much like the look in his eye. Felix never appeared as the type to be so forward, so bold. That was my move and he fumbled it from me in seconds. Now I was the flustered, speechless mess with a racing heart.

Felix was always attractive to me, plain and simple. If I wasn’t involved with Jade I’d have him face first on my mattress like it was nothing. An innocence hung around him, it was enticing, like nectar to a bee. At first I wasn’t positive he was aware that’s how he came off, but the last forty seven seconds told me everything I needed to know.

It was no wonder Felix fit right into the group, he was one of us. A game player, a pawn on a chessboard- the floor of Haven.

“There’s nothing going on,” I forced from my lips quietly, taking a breath to ease the thumping of my heart between my lungs. A smirk graced his pretty pink lips. The slight narrowing of his eyes threatened to make me feel small, but with a tap of his knee onto mine he eased the tension.

“You’re lying,” he said. Opening his palm he dropped his chin in it and tilted his head the opposite way, leaning into his shoulder. The little smirk grew into one of his big ditzy grins.

Narrowing my own eyes, I pressed my lips together before I said, “And you’re flirting with me.”

In an instant his hands are in his lap and he’s sitting up straight, not a smile in sight. The legs that trapped one of mine between them had relaxed, and his eyebrows were turned inward, though he didn’t seem upset.

Clearly I had said something insanely wrong because there wasn’t much that would wipe the cheesy cheeks away from this boy. He was always smiling.

Peeking at my empty glass I sighed, turning toward the bar to place my elbows on the wood, burying my face in my hands. “What’d I say?” I asked, feeling electricity spark in my veins, originating from the center of my chest. “I always say the wrong shit, don’t know if you know that.”

“You didn’t-” he tried to answer but I cut him off. It was the electricity’s fault.

“Wrong of me to assume, I’m sorry.” Apology counter on and running, starting score is two. “I’m drinking,” I huffed a laugh, rubbing my palms over my eyes. “I’m always drinking, shit. And it does this, it fucks things up, like it’s fucking things up with Jade- and yanno- shit, I don’t even know if…”

Dropping my hands onto my thighs I shake my head, eyes squeezed shut. Lifting a finger to tug at the neck of my t-shirt, I sucked in a deep breath and darted my eyes amongst my blurry surroundings.

“Issit hot in here? Fuck,” I gasped.

Felix slides off the stool beside me and I can feel my thundering heart drop to my stomach.

This did it. This was it. The panic was what nudged him off, with an assist by the comment I had made.

He was seconds away from becoming an ally, a friend, and I managed to muff it up by assuming he was coming onto me. If I had been sober I’d have been able to tell how he really felt, or be able to understand what he really meant.

Sucking down another sharp gulp of air, I prepared myself to watch him walk away back to the group he’d tell all about this while I’d order another drink to continue to drown myself in to get rid of this incessant buzzing in my blood. I don’t think he’s ever seen this happen to me. If he was anything like Jade he’d walk away. When I’d panic she would walk away from me, ignoring me. She’d tell me to stop freaking out, to pull myself together, and leave.

Yet somehow she manages to stay.

“Hyunjin,” Felix spoke gently from beside me. Glancing to my right he’s standing there with the softest expression and an outstretched hand. “Come on.”

“Wh-what? What are you- You’re…” my words cannot seem to piece themselves together. In this blurry haze of dizziness my hand somehow slipped into his, allowing him to help me off the stool and onto my legs that trembled like jelly.

“We’re going outside,” Felix said, giving my rough hand a squeeze. Even though I’m half delirious, I can swear I feel his thumb slide over the back slowly, savoring the touch. “You’re having a panic attack.”

We weasel our way through the groups of people and find ourselves through the heavy door. Well, Felix does. I stumbled behind him like a baby deer on ice. Once we’re outside I can hear myself breathing and it’s insufferably loud as if it’s happening directly in my own ears.

My chest is constricted by its own weight, like my shirt was suddenly five sizes too small, and there’s a tingling in my fingers that starts to travel up to my face. Doing my best to keep my grip on Felix’s hand, I barely felt him take it away to place both to my shoulders, guiding me to sit down on the curb of the parking lot.

Folding my fingers together I shove them between my legs and lean forward, my chest falling over my knees. Light headed, I tip to the right, slumping into Felix’s lap, who had sat down beside me. I’m unable to hear anything, or really comprehend anything around me, until he speaks, pulling me out of my head for a split second.

“So loud,” he grumbled, glaring at the road just outside the parking lot. Lifting my head to find what he meant, I quickly fell backward, landing on his shoulder. “Isn’t it obnoxious?” he asked, trying to look at me.

“Huh?” I managed to squeak between breaths. Felix flattens his lips and nods to the street.

“The cars,” he said. “They’re entirely too loud, what’s the point? It’s just a car.” Squinting, I gulp and shake my head as best as I can. He’s got it all wrong.

“N-no,” I mumbled, feeling the bone of his shoulder on the back of my head. “It’s… It’s not just a car.” My voice is exasperated, it makes him smirk.

“What d’you mean, it’s not just a car?” he snickered. “It gets you from point A, to point B. What more is there to it? I don’t understand the fancy shit. The paint, the loud engine, the squealing brakes, the-”

My entire body jolts, sitting straight up to glare at him.

“If your brakes are squealing you’ve got a problem,” I said. “And the paint? Artistic expression. Some people like to decorate their homes, or draw, or some shit. Others like to do it to their cars. And, the loud engine? Total preference, if you don’t like it, don’t do it. Most of the time it’s not even the engine but the exhaust, and if…” I quickly shut myself up when I watched him take his bottom lip between his teeth.

The world falls quiet and I’m able to hear everything he was hearing before. On the streets the cars weren’t even that loud. Crickets were chirping around us, filling the humid summer air with a familiar sound that felt like a soft hug. The nighttime was crisp, refreshing, much cooler than the inside of the bar.

My breathing was almost back to normal, though the pain in my chest was still there. That usually remained for a few hours.

Felix appeared smug, but relieved. Under the moonlight, out of the horrid walls of Haven, he was still pretty, and I was still drunk.

“You jerk,” I said quietly. With a scoff and a laugh, Felix slaps a hand to his chest.

“I’m sorry, excuse me?” The beautiful sound keeps coming from between his lips, a sound I wanted to bottle up and keep in my pocket. “I’ve just calmed you down and you call me a jerk? Could’ve at least gone for something better, could’ve called me a cunt instead.” My eyes blow open wide.

“I would never,” I said seriously, and it made him laugh again.

“Doesn’t hurt me, trust me,” he raises his eyebrows and shrugs once. “It’s almost a term of endearment where I’m from.”

“You’re kidding?” I asked, looking down between us, realizing there wasn’t an ounce of space. Our bodies were pressed together tight.

Felix shakes his head and flashes me a pouty smile. “Foul mouthed Aussies,” he said. “Bet you wouldn’t last a day.” He gives me a slight nudge, my body ricocheting off of his, then landing right back into place.

Right up beside me like this I could tell how different we really were in size. Our height was similar, if anything he was a bit shorter, but our builds were totally different. We both were on the skinnier side, but I definitely had more muscle to my bones. I could wrap my entire hand around Felix’s wrist and touch my pinky to my thumb, with some extra leftover.

Taking him in as he gazed forward at our luxury view of the overgrown Haven parking lot, I mumbled, “Thank you,” and he smiled at me.

“Course,” he nodded, his eyes boring into mine as he leaned his chin on his shoulder, dropping his chin a bit. He was waiting again. It was my turn to say something, like he’d learned his lesson from earlier, to wait for me to bring something up before assuming, or asking too many questions. He was aware of himself, and of me.

It was in his nature to help me, to get me out of the situation that made me panic. It didn’t help that half of it was brought with us, because he was the one to ask me about Jade, when ultimately I was trying to forget it.

I don’t do cheaters.

Now what in the hell does that mean? Was he implying his attraction? Did he want to… do me?

“Why did you ask me about Jade?” I whispered within the six inches of space. He bats his lashes, seemingly unknowing this little habit of his.

“I was curious,” he muttered, half-convincing.

“You’re a shit liar,” I smirked, digging my elbow into his side. “What do you want with me?” Sinking into his side at my touch, he giggles and quickly composes himself, shoving me away carefully.

“Nothing,” he said, his tone utterly quiet. His big brown eyes now attempted to avoid mine. When he does look at me, it’s quick, and flustered. Beneath the shitty street lights I swore I caught his tanned cheeks go pink.

Then, the alcohol talks.

“What?” I keep the smirk locked on my lips as I lean in closer to him. “You wanna fuck?” His eyes go wide, and he laughs again, but this time it’s breathy and full of nerves. “Is that why you asked about her? Wanna check where my relationship stands before you make a real move?”

“No, listen, I-”

“I get it,” I cut him off, waving my hands around for a moment. “You don’t wanna be another one of them, you don’t wanna be on that list. It’ll make Jade hate you, and you don’t want her to hate you, even though I wish she would hate me, but no matter what I do I can’t make that happen, and I’ve done a lot.”

Felix is back to being zoned in on my eyes, leaning into me. “What’ve you done?” he asked with empathy, genuinely.

“I’ve slept with a couple people,” I said as if it were normal. Felix’s lips part a bit. “Yanno, hooked up with some girls who came onto me, and then I told her about it.” The crease that forms in his brow makes my heart ache.

“Why would you do that?” His voice seems to deepen drastically. Frowning, I shrug, and then shrug again, unsure of what to say next. I’d sound absolutely bonkers if I told him I was afraid she was going to leave me when I was giving her reason after reason to run away.

“It doesn’t make sense,” I whispered. A lump lodges in my throat. “She’s still here.” Turning my chin to look directly at him, I feel a tear slip down my cheek. “Why is she still here?”

Felix reaches a hand over to brush his thumb beneath my eye, the digit grazing my bottom lashes with care. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Do you want her to leave?”

“Yes,” I force through my lips with a gust of air, pressing my cheek into his palm. He tilts his head and juts his bottom lip out a bit.

“You want her to… break up with you?” he asked, eyes flickering down to my lips, then back to my eyes. Sniffling, I nod, then more tears fall as my chin crinkles. Felix hums in sympathy. “Why do this to yourself? Tell her you want to break up. Surely she can’t enjoy being your girlfriend after what you’ve done.”

The words stung, but he was right.

Swallowing hard, I cut my tears off and pulled myself out of his hold. “She isn’t my girlfriend.” Felix leans backward and furrows his brows.

“But… everyone says…”

“I know what everyone says, I know what it looks like, okay?” The snippiness in my tone wasn’t intended for him, and I hoped he knew that. It was intended for the asshats inside the building behind us. “But she is not my girlfriend, I am not her boyfriend, I don’t do shit like that, I don’t fall in love, I don’t believe in that. Bad things happen in love. That’s why I’ve spent my entire life rejecting it.” Felix listens with patience, hanging onto every word. “Everyone I’ve ever fallen for has failed me, and it’s happening all over again, and I get to watch.”

It’s quiet for almost two minutes. Felix slides a hand over to me amidst the silence, wrapping one of his dainty hands around my forearm for comfort as I take slow deep breaths to keep myself calm.

“How is she failing you?” he asked gently, respecting the quiet air. I expected him to add a, you cheated on her first, or something, but he doesn’t.

Sighing, I prepared myself to sound insane. “She’s falling for Minho.”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded with a cringe. Whipping my body sideways, I completely take his knees out, pushing him over. Holding my hands out, open at my side, I wear complete shock on my face.

“Oh, yeah?” I repeated questionably. “Oh, yeah?” Felix twists toward me and folds his legs under him on the concrete. His expression reads uncertainty. He answered me with a nod. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shouted. “Other people see this besides me?” Clearly they did, otherwise Jade’s friends wouldn’t antagonize her about leaving me for Minho. “God damn,” I breathe, slouching over, pulling my arms into my chest. “Why is no one doing anything?”

“Because it’s your relationship?” Felix offered cheekily, getting a glare out of me. “I’m just saying, if someone is to do something, it’s you or Jade, no one else.”

“But, what about everything I’ve done? Why doesn’t it drive her out? Wouldn’t you leave somebody if you knew they had done that to you?” I asked him, watching the wheels turn in his mind as he pondered my question. I wondered if the therapist in him was done for the day, if I was exhausting the motors and he was running on pure steam and Sprite.

“Of course I would leave somebody if they did that to me,” his gaze hardened. “Maybe she’s just attached to you somehow. Are you her first boyfriend, or the first person she’s been intimate with?”

I scoff. “Definitely not.”

“Then, maybe she’s worried about you,” he continued without missing a beat. “She knows you have a drinking problem, does she know-”

“How do you know I have a drinking problem?” I grilled.

Felix perks a brow, an answer on its own. “Does she know about the panic attacks? And don’t ask me how I know you have multiple, where there’s one, there’s sure to be others.”

Taking a breath, I drop my eyes to his knees and shrug. “She knows, but I try to not talk about it.”

“And why not?”

“She hates it,” I sighed, meeting his eyes. “The first time she ever saw it happen she helped me, and it was nice. It took forever to get it to stop, yanno, not like… like you, tonight… Anyways, now she hates it. It’s inconvenient for her. To have to stop what she’s doing to coddle me like a child, she hates it. It’s like a job for her.”

Felix groans, rolling his eyes. “When has she said that to you?” The funny thing was, she never said it directly to me.

“Heard her say it to Chan on the phone,” I mumbled, dropping my eyes down to the sidewalk under us.

“Coddle you like a child, unbelievable,” he repeated, then scooted himself closer to me to grab my hands. My eyes flicker up to his. “You deserve better than that. You deserve someone who understands.” My lips pull into a small frown. “I’m sorry that happened to you, I’m sorry you heard her say that, that’s so unfair.”

“S’okay,” I grumbled, and he vigorously shook his head with a laugh.

“It’s not okay,” he said. “Listen, I’m not saying what you’ve done to her is right, because it’s not, it’s kinda fucked up, but… You can’t help what happens in your brain, Hyunjin. The wires are twisted up there, and it’s not something you can untangle magically. You still deserve respect and understanding.”

It’s quiet for another moment, the night growing heavier, even more silent than before.

“You two really aren’t good for each other,” Felix said.

Smirking, I said, “That’s why we don’t date.” I earned myself a swat at the knee with that one. Trying to dodge it, I lunged forward to try to tap his knees as well, but he had the same idea, so our heads bonk together instead. Falling backward in a laughing mess, we grab our foreheads and groan. “Are you okay?” I asked, peeking at him between my elbows. The grin on his face tells me all I need to know.

“I’m fine,” he takes a deep breath, placing his hands at his side. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “Been hit with worse.” Felix’s reaction makes me laugh all over again, the way he reanimates his distress humorously.

“What the fuck?” he laughed, shaking his shoulders. “You’ve got a lot to unpack, don’t you?”

“I do,” I nodded, somewhat proud. “Rethinking your attraction?”

“Definitely not,” he sighed, glancing down at his lap. Only his eyes looked up as he said, “I’ve had that since I met you.”

“You’ve never thought to say anything?” I asked, tucking my arms into my chest. Felix smacks his teeth, averting his eyes to our surroundings before he disagreed.

“You were with her, and it always looked perfect, I didn’t want to come between anyone, or anything,” he said, doing his best to open up under my attentive gaze. “You guys seemed happy. You were always together, I never got to talk to you alone like this, ever. This is a first. But…”

“But?” I whispered, leaning forward.

Felix leaned in as well, dropping his own tone to a whisper. “I didn’t know if you were into guys, and I said this earlier, but you’ve looked at me like this since the day we met.” Gesturing toward me, he quickly pulls his arms in, wrapping them around his knees he tucks into his chest, resting his chin on top of them.

“Look at you like what?” I asked fast, feeling the air close in on us. Felix gulps. His big brown eyes know something, they’re begging for something.

“Like you want to devour me.”

Huffing a breath, my heart rate skyrockets. Throwing my arms aside, I climb onto my knees and crawl halfway over his body, his own knees parting as his arms fall behind him, catching himself on the tips of his fingers. His lips part, like he’s anticipating something, all while surprised by my sudden gesture.

Kneeling between his thighs, I pressed my forehead to his, dropping my own hands to the concrete beside his. Our chests are inches apart, and Felix’s is heaving, taking in nervous breaths, sending them out through his lips, letting the warm air graze over my cheeks. He smells of a sweet, light cologne. Not too strong, but just enough to make me want to taste it on his skin.

Dipping my jaw and parting my lips, Felix pulled his own backward.

“Don’t-you-dare-kiss-me,” he whispered with persistence. Pressing my lips together tight, I watch him glance at them for half of a second and poke his tongue out between his. He looks back into my eyes and releases a soft sigh. “You’re still with Jade, and you were right. I really don’t want to be on that list. As much as I… really wanna kiss you, believe me, I do, I can’t.”

The boundary thing. This had to be one of them. He was establishing a boundary. He doesn’t give me any other reason, nor does he try to persuade me to do anything like one would think he would. Instead, he watches me process and retreat off of him, sitting back on the concrete. I wanted him to tell me to break up with her, to leave her, but he wasn’t the type of person to insist that I do that.

It was my decision, and Felix wasn’t the type to put his own needs, wants and desires over someone else's life.

“I’m sorry.” I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve apologized to him now.

Smiling, Felix sits up and takes a breath. “It’s alright,” he said, standing up, brushing his hands over the back of his jeans. Reaching out a hand, I grasp it firmly and let him aid me to my feet.

“Thanks,” I said, looking toward the door that taunted me. Going back inside meant having to watch our group of friends have fun, and I wasn’t sure if Felix would join them or not. I much preferred being away from everyone.

“Hyunjin,” Felix stopped me before I could begin to walk away, “Listen to me. All things aside. Your anxiety doesn’t make you less worthy of respect. You truly deserve someone who treats you like you matter, I hope you know that.”

Nodding, I attempted a smile.

“You’re not annoying, you’re not a job, you’re a human being. You deserve real love whether you have anxiety or not,” he said. Nodding, the only thing I’m able to do because I’m unsure of how to react to these words, I look down to the ground. “It is not an excuse to act like a dick, though. Actions have consequences, and you could really hurt someone, and I believe that you did.”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I did.” Felix places a hand to my shoulder, giving it a reasonable squeeze.

“Talk to her,” he said. “Actually talk to her.”

Back inside the bar Felix made himself comfortable on the stools we occupied before we went outside. Dina and her bouncy blonde curls stopped by us to bring us two more drinks. I didn’t even have the chance to request anything before Felix cut in and suggested I have a glass of water instead, giving Dina a sappy smile.

“Good idea,” I said after she walked away. Felix simply smiled. Turning over my shoulder briefly to catch a glimpse of anyone at all, the crowd seemed to have gotten denser since we stepped out, so it was impossible to make out who was who. Our table of friends was protected by strangers drinking and dancing away their own troubles.

Dina slipped by slyly, dropping the drinks on the wood gently and scurrying away before we could catch her. Felix picks up his glass, full of water, and takes a sip through the straw.

“What do you do for fun?” he asked me, twisting his body around so that he could rest his back against the bar. He kept his eyes on me as I followed his lead and turned around as well. Sipping my water, I shrugged.

“Not much,” I mumbled, then started to laugh. “I mean, I come here, that’s about it.”

Felix nodded, surveying the crowd as he absorbed my answer. “So you don’t have any hobbies or anything?” My lips pull into a frown.

“Unless you consider my job a hobby… Then, no,” I said. I’ve been working since I was straight out of college, at a job I didn’t even get my degree for. Cars were like a hobby to me, if I had to choose one, they’ve always been a constant in my life since I was young.

“Working on cars?” Felix questioned with a raised brow.

“Yeah. Fixing them mostly. It’s satisfying when it’s finished, but a little sad when I have to give it back,” I smiled, getting lost in the way his eyes paid attention to me. He encouraged me to continue without even saying a word. “If it’s just me in the garage, which most times it is, I feel like… I dunno, I’ll sound crazy.”

“No you won’t,” Felix furrowed his brow. “Keep going, I’m enjoying this.”

“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, I glance out to the dance floor once, then zone back in on him. “You create a relationship with your clients, right? You learn about them, you help them. I feel like it’s the same thing for me. So, it’s always a little sad to see a customer drive away in their car I’ve had for a few days.” Felix opens his mouth to speak, but is cut straight off by a sharp voice on the opposite side of me.

“Cute!” Is said sarcastically, aimed directly at me. My stomach did a cartwheel. There was no way in hell I wanted to turn around to see who was sitting there, because I already knew who it was. Felix’s glare over my shoulder toward him didn’t make it any better. “You don’t feel that way about your own relationship, but you feel that way about cars?”

A snarky laugh comes out of his right hand man. Can’t have one without the other. “Sociopath,” he muttered.

Felix attempted to speak up. “I don’t think this is the right time for-”

“Right time for what? Figuring out what this jerk’s problem is? Seems like the perfect time, Sunshine.”

Whipping myself around, I slam my glass on the bar and spin around to face him. Minho. Muscley, strong, stone-faced Minho with silver hair and dark pointed eyes. He sat directly next to me, facing me, and Han stood behind him. The two must’ve snuck up on Felix and I somehow.

“What’s your problem?” I growled from behind my teeth. Minho smirked.

“My problem is that you’re an asshole,” he spoke low, and slow. “An arrogant, lying, disrespectful asshole.” His words half went in one ear and out the other, but I knew by tomorrow I’d be hanging onto this moment. Keeping my brows low and my eyes clear of any signs of worry, I huff a laugh and shake my head.

“And you’re a snake,” I said, narrowing my eyes. Minho swallows, hard. “So, what are we gonna do about this?” He appears to be quick on his feet, trying to leap off of the stool to assert some type of dominance, but Han keeps him place with a hand to his shoulder.

Behind me Felix mumbled an, “Oh my god.”

“You wanna fight?” I laughed, forcing all of my false confidence outward. “Winner takes Jade home? You think you can kick my ass? Hilarious.”

“I don’t think I can, I know I can kick your pathetic ass,” Minho leaned into me. “Don’t get me started, because I will lose it, and I won’t hold back.” To piss him off even more, I flickered my eyes to his lips, and back to his eyes.

“I’d love to see you try,” I whispered, and he huffed.

“What’s Jade gonna say about you two, huh?” Minho perked a brow, gesturing to Felix with a jut of his chin. “She saw you over here. You can’t get away with this one.” Which is hilarious, because I never tried to get away with it, ever. She knew every single one, every single moment. I was half tempted to ask Minho why Jade was still with me, he must know something I don't.

“What’d we do?” I asked exhaustedly, shaking my head. Han snickered.

“Oh my god, are you oblivious? Like, are you actually dumb?” he asked, his eyes bugging out of his skull. “You’re both over here, all over each other like two little gay boys, and then you leave! You two walked out of here, hand in hand.” He stared me down. I’ve never actually seen Jisung get angry, most of the time it was fake so he fit himself into the situation to get something out of it for himself.

“We know Felix is a gay,” Minho stated as if it were a raging hot topic and the words tasted bad. He looks at me up and down. “Not surprised you wouldn’t be either, you’d get into anyones pants if it had a pretty face and a dumb smile.” Sitting up straight I frowned.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” I said, and they both fell into a fit of laughter.

“So, we’re right?!” Han shouted, hitting Minho on the shoulder a few times.

The silver haired boy tossed his arms out in front of him as he rocked back against Han and his laughter. “We’re so right, look at them. Defending each other. Bet this has been going on a lot longer than tonight.”

“Seriously,” Han snickered. “Don’t gay people fall in love a lot faster?” he redirects his glare to Felix, “Isn’t that a thing? You people rush through it all?” I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Standing up, I push the stool back with my hip and circle Minho to face Han, nearly coming nose to nose with the boy inches shorter than myself. He could hide his panic on his face with a cheesy grin, but he was shaking in his boots. Even Minho was hesitant to turn around to face us.

“Say something about him again,” I said from my chest. I wasn’t even sure I was blinking, the rage simmered just beneath my skin. Never in my time of knowing these people have I ever put my hands on one of them, and I wasn’t about to start tonight. I didn’t want to. It’d been ages since I had been in a fight, and though I was triumphant in nearly all of them, it wasn’t a headspace I wanted to fall back into.

I would much rather self-destruct myself.

Han stands before me- below me- mouth babbling incentives to get me to back down, while simultaneously calling me out for my bad behavior. I can’t seem to put together a single thing he’s saying, all I can hear is the ringing of slurs in my ear that he and Minho had used, and have used before. In fact, most of the guys that Jade was friends with spoke that way. Except for Chan, he’s never spoken out of line.

“Say that word again,” my voice came from behind my teeth, the back of my throat, the depth of my chest and vibrated throughout my being. Narrowing my eyes, I growled, “I dare you.”

A hand is placed to my chest from behind me, a small one, placed right over my racing heart. They pull me back slightly and turn me around, and for half a second I’m expecting fluffy blonde hair and deep eyes, definitely not the girl I came here with tonight.

Looking up at me with a gentle smile and glistening skin, she taps her fingers on the cotton of my t-shirt and takes a deep breath. “Hi,” she said, her tone indicating she was either unaware of what was going on, or she was keeping herself calm to get me out of it.

Han and Minho lean backwards on the bar, wiping their expressions clean of all evidence. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Felix with his elbows on the wood, head hanging down over his glass with his fingers tangled in his hair.

I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling. I’ve gone almost my entire life hearing people say bad things about me, since I was a child. It started with my own father, and in every stage of my adolescence into college every authoritative figure had something to say. I was used to the bullets, but Felix didn’t deserve any of it. He was too pure, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was because of me that the two idiots had opened their mouths, it was my fault he got hurt.

Maybe I’m destructive by association.

Just look at Jade. Happy, calm, smiling Jade who danced her heart out tonight with her friends. I had hurt her countless times, and almost did it again a mere fifteen minutes ago. At least, I think it was fifteen minutes. Haven made me time blind.

I hurt anyone I try to have a connection with. Point blank. This is why I don’t do this.

“Are you okay?” Jade asked from between her lips of worn off mauve lipstick. If I didn’t already know first hand that her lipstick looks like this after hours of dancing and sipping drinks, I’d have thought she’d been locking lips with someone. Someone behind me. But, it didn’t take much to get this shade to come off, if she had been kissing Minho it’d be completely gone and he’d be wearing some on his lips.

Her eyes question me as I study her face.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I’m okay.” Jade glances at Han, then at Minho, then at Felix. She points her chin back to me and shrugs her shoulders.

“Do you wanna go home?” she asked, pouting her lips as her hand traveled down my side. She hooked a finger in one of my belt loops and pulled me closer to her. Falling under her quick little spell, I find myself nodding, zoned into the lust she has pooling in her irises. Her tousled hair that was once perfect that now clung to her neck made my knees weak. Danced out and tired, and a little sweaty- she was perfect. She was always perfect.

As she said goodbye to her friends, Felix included, she took my hand and guided me away from them all, keeping me wrapped right around her finger, my eyes falling below her waist as she hurried for the door, and for a moment everything felt right. Everything felt complete, and okay again. Until I realized I had left Felix behind at the bar, alone.

Turning over my shoulder, giving Jades hand an accidental tug, I met his eyes. His deep brown, curious, wandering eyes. Changbin stood beside him now, lost in conversation with Minho and Han, but Felix couldn’t care to listen. His soft chin was propped on his fist of delicate fingers with the rings on them, and he watched me.

He watched me leave with Jade, leaving little to the imagination of what we were about to do.

A resentment that was already there within me began to grow.

It grew as we stepped into my apartment. It grew as she took me into our bedroom. It grew as she undressed me and kissed me like nothing was wrong. Like I hadn’t broken her heart. Like she hadn’t caught me with Felix tonight as her friends had told me.

I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to ask her questions, Felix put some sort of inspiration inside of me. I longed for a conversation with Jade, to understand what was going on and why it was happening, wondering if she was even having any doubts. There had to have been some.

Felix taught me a lot tonight, even if we didn’t get to spend more than a couple hours together, and I wished to use some of his therapist expertise to work something out between Jade and I.

Instead, her fingers are dragging through, tugging my hair and gripping my bare skin as she used me for her own pleasure. And though our bodies were equally tangled together, and my lips tore apart the skin of her neck, and I sunk into her so comfortably and clenched my jaw shut as she mewled aloud beautifully… I couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like if it were him.

And that was something I had never done before.

When I had Jade, and when she had me, it was only us. She was too damn intoxicating to think about anything else, anyone else.

But, after tonight, I felt like I was split in two.

It was Felix’s hips I was gripping, it was his warm breath tickling my collar bone, it was his nose I bumped with mine, his lips I drug my tongue across, his hips I rocked mine into again, and again, harder and harder until it was his nails that clawed into my shoulder blades, leaving skinny red lines behind as they drug downward. It was his chest that pushed up into mine, arms clamping around my back, holding me close as it was his heavy breaths calming himself down from his high.

When I opened my eyes and found Jade with her head tossed back on our pillows with her lipstick gone and flushed cheeks, I slipped out of her and rolled onto my back, laying an arm over my forehead. It was quiet for all of two minutes, not a word spoken between us, just Jade’s heaving chest.

She rolled over on her side and took a long deep breath. I could feel her eyes on me.

“That was insane,” she sighed. “What the hell got into you?”

Shrugging, I side eyed her once. “Strong drinks?” I lied. Felix had me sobered up.

Jade let out an exhausted laugh. “Whatever it was… Mother of God. You don’t feel this way too?” Her eyes were still on me.

“I do,” I lied again. Slipping a hand down my body under the sheets, I wrapped a hand around my length that was still rock hard. She may have finished, but I couldn’t. “Just tired… That was… so good.”

Giving her another glance I found that her eyes had fallen shut, though she was nodding her head. “So good,” she mumbled. “Go to sleep, Jinnie.”

It didn’t take her long to fall asleep, and the second I knew she was out, I beelined for the bathroom. Running the shower, I took every last bit of strength I had left out on myself, finally finding relief with Felix on my mind once I was alone.

Beneath the burning hot water with my back against the white tile, I sucked down deep breaths, holding in a panic, and finally realized that this was going to be the first time I broke up with anyone.

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

TASTE. -> 'Haven' from the POV of Hyunjin. (Part One of ?)

summary: "Bad things happen in love. That's why I've spent my entire life rejecting it. Everyone I've ever fallen for has failed me, and it's happening all over again, and I get to watch."

word count: 11k

warnings: 18+, infidelity themes all throughout, toxic friendships/relationships, mentions of sex, alcohol abuse, struggles with mental health themes, cursing, if I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

a/n: So, this is happening. This is altering my entire Haven universe. Originally, this is the time period I had Haven set in when I first created it... I see a rewrite happening in the future. Enjoy this, and please leave me a message of your thoughts! YES, I had to name the female MC. If she has your name, congrats!

Fixating my eyes on the bland, white ceiling above me, I lay awake for the third night in a row, unable to shake the thoughts that infected my mind like a parasite. Incessant mocking strings of words that my subconscious seems to have created itself for the pure purpose of self torture. Life’s always been that way though, my subconscious versus my conscious mind, both whispering things to me in a way that made it difficult to decipher what was actually real.

During the night after I’ve buried myself beneath my sheets was when they loved to linger. When things got quiet, the thoughts crept out, spilling me secrets, but if it was a night like tonight, they screamed. For weeks now, they’ve been screaming.

Mere hours ago, before the lights were shut off, I had my arms wrapped around the girl who now slept soundly beside me. Straddling my waist with her hands tangled in my hair, we took one another with a hunger, sweating while she sang out a beautiful song inspired by her own lust fueled desire. Each and every time we slept together it was disgustingly greedy, yet relieving, and all the more mind-numbing.

Jade, fast asleep, her eyelashes tickling her cheeks, always appeared as beautiful as her name introduced her. Much like the stone she shares a title with, her personal qualities weren’t as far off. Since I’ve met her she’s been level headed, mature, and honest. Never once have I had to question her sincerity whenever I’m seven inches within her, nor have I wondered whether or not she’d stray away from me.

Until about two months ago.

It was probably my own damn fault somehow, I just can’t seem to piece together where it began, or what the underlying cause was. Within these nights laying awake I start to assume it’s the subconscious cooking it up, but if I attempt to delve deeper into the situation it seems to appear before me clear as day.

She was falling in love with Minho.

The nine of us friends had been hanging out for almost half a year before Jade and I started to hook up. Our group was formed beneath the roof of Haven, all of us were regulars, and Minho was a bartender there, so naturally we grew attached to each other.

Jeongin and Seungmin knew one another previously, childhood best friends or something, if I can remember, as did Minho and Han. Changbin was a close friend of mine through school, we attended university together a few years back, the two of us in the same fraternity. He had a good friend at work, Felix, who he ended up bringing around, and the blonde seemed to find a place with us. That boy was an Aussie, like Chan who was introduced to us through Jade. Those two were college friends as well.

Naturally we fell into little subunits as all friend groups do, though we clung to the ones we started out with. Jade, I’ve noticed, couldn’t let go of Chan, and for good reason. He was a good dude, he worked in a gym, and I didn’t absolutely hate his guts. At least I knew that if she was with him she was going to be safe- which is a thought that always shook me to the depths of my core, and it wasn’t because I was worried about her well-being.

Well, maybe it was because I was worried about her well-being, but that was what terrified me. I had gotten to the point with her that made me want to throw it all away, it was entirely nauseating, every waking second of it.

Taking a glimpse of her now in the dark where she lay with her lips slightly parted, her gorgeous hair pushed backward and her hands beneath the cheek that lays on one of my pillows, there’s a pit that forms in my stomach, one that sends an electric spark up into my heart, spreading throughout my nervous system. If she was dreaming her lips would twitch. I’d gazed at her enough as she’s slept this past year to be able to figure out what was happening in that spectacular mind of hers without her needing to use words to express it.

It’s how I knew she was falling in love with Minho.

Lurching forward with a gentleness to not disturb her, I press the palms of my hands to my eyes and rub vigorously, trying to clear my head of the things I didn’t want to hear. Taking a slow, deep breath with caution, I sense the familiar tightness around my heart and sigh.

As soon as I think about it, it happens. Another breath rips through my chest without warning, and then another. They were coming in quick, their speed relentless, my heart accompanying their pace. I glance down at Jade who hasn’t seemed to stir. She was asleep, I didn’t want to bother her, I wasn’t sure I wanted her help at all. I knew what I needed to do.

Tossing the covers off of me my feet hit the floor, a cool sensation shooting up my legs helping to ease the panic in the slightest way. Hurrying for the door I snatch the doorknob and throw it open, my head beginning to go dizzy.

I rush into the kitchen with a clobber, slamming my hands onto one of the counters feeling absolutely no pain. Blind with anxiety, I begin to rifle through cabinets, slamming their doors along with a couple of drawers.

Where is it, are the only words I can conjure up.

A couple minutes later, or it could’ve been thirty seconds for all I can actively be aware of- I find it. A little more than half a bottle of Don Juilio that Changbin gifted me for my last birthday. It was pushed in the back, hidden behind Jades margarita mixes and fruity shit she’s tried to put me on. Jutting my arm in, knocking over stacked plastic cups and packages full of bendy straws, I maneuver the round glass bottle out of the cabinet without knocking over anything expensive.

Plopping to the floor, I pop the tequila open and take a gulp. It’s cool against my tongue, but it should burn a little as it goes down. It doesn’t. Taking another swig I can’t even feel my chest warm like it should while I drink this. I can’t feel a thing.

Typically this gets paired with some sort of soda, adding a dash of the tequila into the glass before the fizzy mixer is poured inside. Changbin was better at making the drinks, he has been since college. At every party he was the one in charge of the alcohol, making sure we never got a keg. With Changbin it had to be dressed up, a little more spicy than average- which was how he preferred his women.

To me, it didn’t matter. In college I drank to get drunk, and apparently my friends would agree that that still reigns true. I didn’t care if the alcohol was aged perfectly, if it was pricey or if it was cheap, nor did it matter the packaging it came in. If it cleared my head, made me forget what I wanted to forget, and got me off, I was set. Which, ultimately, was how I preferred my women. Or my men. Or my… people.

I knock back another gulp of Don Juilio.

I’d never include Jade in that analogy, though. She was different. She was infectious. She made me break my rules.

We were together, but we weren’t together. We shared a bed, she lived within the walls of my apartment, but we weren’t together. She had her own dresser in my bedroom, her toothbrush resided in my bathroom, but we weren’t together. In the morning’s she’d cook me breakfast and bring it to me with a kiss on the cheek, but we weren’t together.

My heart fluttered whenever I would think about her. She found ways to turn my cheeks pink on days when I never thought I’d smile again. She was magnificent.

Jade was the only girl in my life who didn’t throw herself at me the moment we had met. Most women I interact with try to pick me up or ask if I’m single, then try to get me into bed- you don’t see me complaining- but, Jade. The very first thing I ever said to her was sarcastic, something smart rolling off my tongue when our eyes first caught a glimpse of one another, and she laughed.

It wasn’t a cute laugh. It wasn’t a ‘oh my god, cute boy, you’re so funny, let me giggle like a girl to get you to like me’ laugh. Her laugh was loud, and it was quick, and it turned heads. Essentially she was really scoffing at me, unable to believe I had strolled up to her and Chan at the bar and been so confidently cocky.

She got me right back with a joke that crippled Changbin and Chan, she tossed something together fast about how I compared to one of the neon lights on the wall. It was a flamingo holding a bottle of tequila if I’m not mistaken. Even then she knew me, she could see me.

Months after that was the first time we had kissed, inside Haven, those wooden planked walls becoming a safe place for us. Then soon after we seeked sanctuary in a bathroom stall, drunkenly stupid enough to fuck without caring who came inside to use the other one beside it.

I had played a careful game, intrigued with how she seemed to play it right back. That’s what drew me to her. She was equally as meticulous as I was, though she appeared like the type to want stability, and after getting to know her some more, that’s what she craved.

Dealing with me she knew she wasn’t going to get a relationship, at least not the kind where we’d call each other boyfriend and girlfriend. That was something I didn’t do, something that made my skin crawl.

Titles were a subject for disaster, it always ended in a mess, at least from what I know. I’ve had my own share of enough broken hearts in the past to be repulsed by the idea of a title. Of exclusivity. Belonging to someone, and someone belonging to you, only to have them rip your heart out and tear it to shreds after they confess that they see a forever with you, leading you on, isolating you from your friends and family.

People leave. People don’t care.

With Jade I figured I was saving myself, protecting us both from the horrors of heartbreak. But, somewhere within the year I broke my rules.

I was insufferably in love with her.

And she was falling in love with Minho.

Another swig from the bottle I grasped. And then another.

She was falling in love with Minho. I could see it in her eyes whenever they spoke.

He was capable of giving her everything she wanted.

Another swig, that became more of a gulp.

She was falling in love with Minho, and I was doing everything in my power to push her away. I was wrecking her trust, breaking her down, making her cry, and she wouldn’t leave. I was telling her things to her face, things I had done, things that would cause any person in their right mind to leave me, and she wouldn’t go.

Another gulp.

Our friends said things to me, things I couldn’t begin to put together right now, but I knew they weren’t nice. They watched me hurt her again and again, they’ve tried to tell her to leave me, I know that they have. I know Minho has gotten her ear before, this one shocked me the most, because if she was going to listen to anyone I figured it’d be Minho.

My heart yearned, it ached for her.

The worst part about it was that she loved me too, at least I think she does, seeing as though she’s still here after I’ve cheated on her three different times. I’ve slept with three different girls, and she hasn’t left. Jennie, who I met in Haven, a senior in college out here visiting family for the summer. Lia, who I met at the liquor store, she lived a few neighborhoods over. Nayeon, who I met- No. I never had sex with Nayeon. I kissed her though, and she touched my dick.

Another gulp. The glass clangs against the ground as the bottom of the bottle hits it, my arm getting heavy.

Jade knew everything. She found out about Nayeon last week, and she’s still here.

God, I love her, so fucking much, but I’m pretty sure she’s falling in love with Minho.

Another… another gulp, I attempt. My arms fall limp first, then my back meets the tiled floor, and I don’t know if it’s because of the Don Juilio that’s nearly empty or the panic attack.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin.”

Her spine chilling tone wakes me up. Opening my eyes to the sun leaking through the windows, I turn my chin to look at her and take a deep breath, one that inflates my lungs completely. Jade, standing behind me at the door she just slammed shut, is draped in golden rays of light. It definitely wasn’t morning.

A dull ache rips through my head, my eyes feeling like they could roll back and sink into my skull. They’d roll down to my stomach that churned as I moved my eyes around the room. I was still in the middle of the kitchen splayed out on the floor.

Jade was dressed for work, all black head to toe, with her hair pulled back to keep it out of her face. A little nametag was perched on her chest by her left shoulder where her name was spelled out in cute block letters that she wrote herself. In her hand she carried a brown paper bag that gave off the scent that something delicious was inside, something I’d devour if I wasn’t fighting away nausea.

“I brought you dinner,” she said, her tone flat. Looking away from me she takes herself over to the table and tosses the bag onto the wood, not caring whether or not its contents got jostled. A sigh contorted with a groan escapes her as she walks down the hall toward the bedroom, pulling her shirt over her head.

“Dinner,” I mumbled, rubbing one of my eyes. Attempting to sit up, I roll onto my side and tuck my knees into my chest, propping myself up on them along with my hands. The headache roars through my brain, the room turning blurry for a few seconds.

Sitting back on my heels my hands swing to my side, my left pinky finger tapping what felt like glass. Turning my chin down slowly, I hook my pinky into the lip of the bottle and pull it onto my lap, sighing at what I’d found. An empty bottle of Don Juilio Tequila sat in the dip of my thighs.

“Jade?” I called out, looking toward the bedroom where she had disappeared. I don’t remember how I ended up here.

In a pair of jeans that hugged her hips just right, and a white tank top- that I think was mine- tucked into the front of the waist, Jade turned out of the doorway, shooting me a glare. Her hands were occupied with a brush, pushing her hair backward with the bristles before shaking it all forward. When she tossed it back it was like she moved in slow motion.

God, she was beautiful.

“What?” her tone didn’t match her appearance. She was pissed.

Gesturing toward the floor, moving like I’d aged seventy years, I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. “When did I…?”

“Beats me,” she grills, perking a brow. “You were there when I left for work, I figured you’d be up by the time I got back, like last time.”

“You didn’t hear me get up?” I asked, genuinely looking for help. Jade simply shakes her head. “I don’t remember getting up.”

“You sure made a mess,” she scoffs, then disappears again.

Turning over my shoulder, slowly, I’m greeted by half open drawers and cabinets. The one beside me, the liquor cabinet, had its contents spilling out the front onto the tile. Plastic red cups were scattered about, and bottles inside the shelf were knocked over.

“What the fuck,” I whisper to myself.

“You can clean it up,” Jade said, coming back out into the kitchen now with a pair of boots on her feet peeking out from under her flared jeans. She’d put lipstick on, a mauve color, and some mascara. Always so simple, yet convicting, and she didn’t even know it.

“Where are you going?” I asked, watching her dance about the kitchen, unpacking the bag she had brought in, crumbling it up to push it into the garbage that lived beneath our sink. Her jeans stretched as she bent over and my heart wanted to burst.

“Haven,” she said, turning around to look down at me. Her eyes travel to the glass on my lap. “Han, Chan and Minho are going.”

Minho.

Suddenly her shade of lipstick made me want to smash the bottle I held into a trillion little pieces. I remembered how I’d gotten here on the floor.

“Oh,” I mumbled, bobbing my head, gazing up at her through the dark pieces of hair that fell onto my forehead. Jade’s eyes study mine, hers laced with uncertainty and a shit ton of empathy.

“You can come with me, yanno,” she said, her sharp tone easing down to one nicer. Licking my lips, tasting a tinge of the tequila, I nod. She offers me a small smile and a hand.

She aids me to my feet and gives my cheek a quick kiss before she whispers, “You need help.” And she’s sufficiently, accurately, shot me in the heart. Though it was spoken with quaint intention, it didn’t soften the blow, not when I’ve heard those three words before. The first time was degrading, and humiliating, and it didn’t come from Jade.

Taking the bottle from my hands she places it on the countertop much more carefully than it appeared I had been moving last night. She backs away from me with two steps and gestures behind her.

“Get yourself ready,” she said. “They want to meet at six.”

Right. Minho.

“If you want,” she adds before I can walk away from her, “I can call Changbin, maybe ask if he wants to join us?” Rubbing the back of my neck I take a breath. How, in her right mind, is she being nice to me?

“He works,” I said, dropping my hand at my side, “But… sure.”

Checking out my appearance one last time, Jade smiles, bigger this time. I can’t even begin to imagine how I look after hours passed out on the floor in a drunken daze. My headache pounded like a kickdrum in my ears and it felt like I was wearing twenty pound weights on each of my limbs.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll give him a call, go take a shower.”

Taking myself down the hall, leaving her in the kitchen, I step into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. Pressing my back against the white wooden panel, I groan and close my eyes for a couple of seconds. The thought of having to put up with Minho for another night made me more nauseous than the tequila, and the fact that Jade was all done up for the evening threatened to make me panic.

Panic and Minho. That was definitely how I ended up in the kitchen on the floor. It always stemmed from there, the overthinking, the imposter syndrome, the false thoughts that weasled into my mind without consent. Imposter Syndrome was laughable, and it is. I wasn’t under the impression Jade was falling in love with Minho. I knew she was falling in love with Minho.

Oh my god, Hyunjin, turn on the shower.

Tearing back the curtain I spin the knob on the wall to scorching hot, letting the small room fill with steam. If I could sweat out this hangover in a few minutes I’d be good to go for the night, I’d be back on my game, ready to handle Minho and her other friends.

Jade said she’d call Changbin, and I prayed that she would. Chan and Han were great, but they were the closest to Minho. Add Jade into the mix pestering her best friend Chan all night, perpetually flirting with Minho without even realizing, and that leaves me alienated, all to myself. Bad things happen when I’m left to myself. Jade would obtain another reason to leave me, and I guarantee, no matter what, she still wouldn’t.

I wasn’t going to be the one to break it off. It wouldn’t be me saying the words, I needed Jade to say it. She had to be the one to leave me, I loved her too much to let her go.

The heat swirling around the air did anything but make me sweat out my condition, instead it made me even more dizzy and nauseous, prompting me to collapse in front of the toilet, getting sick, twice.

Now that made me feel a little better.

Rubbing a few fingers over my lips I slipped two between my teeth, maybe I could make myself do it again…

“Jinnie?” Jade knocks on the door a couple of times. Slapping both hands to the ceramic, I look at the frame and gulp.

“Yeah?” I question after clearing my throat.

“Changbin said he’ll come by after he gets off work,” she said, “Felix is going to come with him, too.” The skinny little blonde Australian boy. Changbin liked him, and those two got along really well. Felix was funny, the moments I’ve spent with him I’ve enjoyed, so I guess his presence tonight would do me some good.

“Okay,” I mumble, willing her with my mind to walk away. “Thanks.”

“We’ll have fun tonight,” she said, hovering by the door it seemed. “I promise.”

You’ll have fun tonight, I huffed. If her attention was going to be on Minho and her friends for the evening I suppose I could take it upon myself to get to know the boy who acted as Changbin’s shadow whenever they were around. Kind of quiet, Felix seemed shallow, like he wasn’t always all the way there, but I probably didn’t know him well enough.

I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt and not let his bleach blonde hair and ditzy smile he always wore get in the way of getting through to him personally. A friend of Changbins could easily be a friend of mine. Being so hooked on Jade I’ve barely had time to even learn where Felix lived. Maybe he’d be the best distraction for the evening.

And so, the subunits within the group will shift. If my predictions were right, if Jade was… falling in love with Minho, then there was no doubt she’d get pulled away by Han and Chan. It already seemed as if those three had a plan set in place to pluck her out of here, so I needed a second option. I needed people on my side, people to stand with me if the nine of us were to separate, or if Jade were to leave me.

Changbin and Felix seemed like an excellent option.

Jade always said that Haven was musty. The old bar was just that, musty. It smelled of heavy old pine and Budweiser, the dark wooden planked walls keeping every scent trapped within the close quarters. There wasn’t a single window on any wall except small rectangular ones in the bathrooms. The screens to the outside were old, a little ripped and covered in cobwebs.

The bar had to have been open for, like, twenty years, since at least the middle of the sixties. The walls and stained concrete floor gave away its age. Arnold, the man who owned the place- Minho’s boss- appeared to be from the sixties as well. Some days I’d be willing to half listen to the history lesson he gave our group whenever he approached us to greet Minho, the old man gloating about his bar, how it’s been family owned for years and that he cannot believe ‘young people’ like us still loved to come here.

Jade loved to listen, she found it fascinating it seemed. Most times I could care less, I just wanted a drink, and I’d love nothing more than to tell Arnold what he could do better with his building, starting with the windows in the bathroom.

It wasn’t my favorite place, but it gave me Jade, and I’m still trying to piece together whether that was a good thing or not.

I could place the blame on the neon multicolored lights or the cheap drinks that were poured heavily for bringing this selfless, incredible girl into my life. These four walls were the reason I was suffering. Something stirred in the air here, something that induced us all into a love drunk haze. Like some type of hallucination you don’t realize the outcome until you’re living with it four months later, saying ‘I love you’ every night.

Already on the dance floor, Jade was moving effortlessly beside Chan. The dark curly haired boy wore a cut off tank, a t-shirt he cut the sleeves off of, and jeans shorts rolled at the knee. A brown belt was strapped around his waist and a skinny gold chain hung snuggly at the base of his neck.

We’ve been here only ten minutes and the two were already a drink deep, lost in the music that blasted from the speakers on the walls.

Sitting at a table in the back corner that our group always occupied, I was slouched in one of the creaky wooden high top chairs with my hand wrapped around a glass full of liquor I was unable to get down. I wanted to chug it before Han and Minho showed their faces.

At least before Han showed his face. The boy was a nuisance. He was loud and nosey, he had to know everything about everybody. I limited the amount of conversations I shared with the chestnut brown, fluffy haired boy. He would never get his sticky little fingers on any of my dirt, but with how he’s gotten close to Jade I can only assume he’s already heard it all. I’ve been on the receiving end of one too many questionable glances recently.

“Jinnie!”

Glancing up from the glass my eyes were attempting to shatter a hole into, I found Jade swaying her hips side to side waving a hand toward me. She wore a smile, a big one. Beside Chan was when she was the happiest, especially if she was also within these decrepit walls.

“What?” I call out to her, my voice nearly drowned out by the bass. Jade takes a breath to answer, but instead hurries over to my side. Chan’s eyes follow her, the content of his expression subtly shifted into unease- at least I think it did.

Jade grabs onto my bare arm and gives me a shake, one that tumbles my stomach. “Come dance, please?” Her voice is sappy-sweet. The drink in front of me appears all the more appetizing.

“Why?” I asked, looking up into her pleading eyes. “You have Chan, go dance with him.”

Her lips form a pout. “I wanna dance with you.”

“I don’t want to dance,” I said. “I still don’t feel good.” Half of a truth.

Jade’s pout dissolves into a frown, her eyebrows taking a nosedive as well. “You never want to anymore,” she said quietly, dropping her grip on me. “What can I do to make you want to dance?”

“I… I dunno,” I shrugged, folding my arms across my chest. A playful smirk tugs at her lips. “You can let me-”

Nudging me with a hip she pulls at the bottom of her tank, untucking it from her jeans, wiggling it up a bit to flash a bit of her midriff. “No, I can get you out there,” she giggles, “I know I can.”

“Stop,” I said. She only slips her tank up a bit further, drifting higher and higher until I reached out and pulled her arms down to her sides. “Stop!”

Rubbing her palms against the denim she wore she bobs her head and licks her lips. The playful energy was wiped away the second I touched her. Taking a step away from me she mumbles, “Bet when Changbin’s here you’ll dance.”

Her black boots take her away to her best friend who, if he wasn’t before, was definitely glaring at me now.

“Fantastic,” I said to myself, focusing back down on the glass that was leaving a ring of moisture on the faded table in front of me. Add it to the list of reasons her friends hated me, or the list of reasons she should leave me, but won’t.

What I said wasn’t a lie, I truthfully wasn’t feeling well, and she knew that. She woke me up only a couple hours ago. I was hungover, and tired, and nauseous, and anxious. Jade didn’t know the anxious part, I kept that to myself, but she knew everything else. I didn’t think it was a crime to not want to dance when I barely had enough energy to hold my head up.

Part of me hates to admit that she was right. I planned to get up somehow when Changbin got here, but only because he was my safety net. Dancing next to Chan, who’s most likely out for blood, without backup wasn’t on my to-do list tonight.

Wrapping my hand around the glass I take a swig, fighting it down with a nauseating cringe. The dark liquor burned the back of my throat, warming my chest. “Christ,” I mumbled. My eyes flicker up to some commotion happening on the dance floor, and to no surprise, Han is there already running his mouth. The boy's hands move a mile a minute, attempting to keep up with his words.

His hair was styled differently, typically it hung over his eyes naturally parted in the center, but tonight the fluff was straightened, completely covering his forehead. In each ear he wore two diamond studs, one smaller and one larger, in size order with a silver chain around his neck to match. Looking at his hands that were latched to Jade’s shoulders I’m surprised to find him ringless. Normally he’d adorn his fingers with flashy rings, more jewelry to show off what a phenomenal job he had.

If he’s not talking about other people, he’s talking about that damn job. His dream job, his fantasy, his ‘so lucky to get straight out of college’ job- working right below the head of the company, the assistant for the CEO or the boss, whichever one Han says. I can’t even remember what the company even does. Jade’s brought it up, something to do with… stocks? Banks?

Either way, he’s the CEO’s son. He was getting that job whether he really wanted it or not, and now he gets to brag about his most amazing life.

I knocked back another swig of my drink with the intention of Han becoming a blur, he moved quick enough anyways, and then another when I noticed the three of them were looking my way. Jade’s smile had started to fade, Chan was biting his bottom lip, and Han wore a grin.

Here we go.

Almost taking out three different people after he detached himself from Jade, Han swaggered over to the table as if he’d already been drinking. When he sat down and leaned toward me, he reeked of vodka and his heavy ass Calvin Klein cologne. In case his get up wasn’t enough he had to make sure people knew he had money by his scent. I’m pretty sure people in the next town over could smell him.

“What in the hell are you doing over here by yourself?” he asked, resting an elbow on the back of the chair he had to jump into. He was four inches shorter than me.

Raising a brow I answered quietly, “Didn’t she already tell you?”

“Who?!” Han’s expression twists into goofy confusion, his eyes going wide. “Jade? No, she didn’t tell me anything. I asked where you were.”

“Oh,” I said, eyeing his flattened hair. Between the gleam of the shiny strands and his gaudy jewelry, his style and personality were entirely out of balance.

“Why so moody, bad boy?” he teased, nudging my arm with an elbow. Pulling away I curled my lip and glared behind him. Jade and Chan couldn’t care less, Nelly Furtado was blaring through the speakers and they were singing every word.

“Not moody,” I sighed. “Hungover.”

Han glanced at the drink in front of me and smirked. “Then you may want to drink that a little faster.”

Gritting my teeth, I said, “Believe me, I’m trying.”

The two of us are startled by a shriek from the dance floor, and then a shout. Han whipped himself around and before I could brace myself he’s shouting as well.

A muscular figure with broad shoulders and silver hair dressed all in black was swinging an arm around Jade, hugging her half around the shoulders. It appeared entirely innocent, the way he kept his head tilted away from her, and how he only allowed himself to use one arm.

Jade used two, throwing both around his chest, keeping her body on the side of his. Given another circumstance she’d have buried herself in him completely, but maybe she just wasn’t drunk enough yet.

She fit right beneath his arm perfectly, like the little crook was made for her. They were both just the right height, neither one was too tall nor small. Jade was shorter than me, way shorter than me. She was shorter than Han, and that kid was short.

“Minho!” he shouted, gripping the back of his chair like a child, dragging out the last letter in the dreaded name that kicked me in the stomach. Tipping my head backward I’m able to down the rest of my drink easily, getting used to the burn, finding a comfort within it as my insides are ignited with nerves.

Silver hair is flipped toward us at the table. His eyes were dark, they always were, but even more so as he took me in. The rare lit up smile on his face falters as our eyes meet, almost as if he knew I was onto him. As much as Jade had been pining after him, Minho had been after her just the same.

The boy dressed in black, just as I was, carried himself with a confident swagger. Minho never cared too much about anything, but all at the same time, cared entirely too much. He was an expert at hiding how he was feeling, it made him a tedious person to be around. Without a quirk of a brow or a frown to go off of, I could never tell what was going through his mind. Unless he was around Jade. The cold exterior seemed to melt a bit if she were around.

“What’s going on?” I hear Minho ask, which can only mean he’s coming closer. Han was beside me, of course he would come closer. The two were attached at the hip.

Standing in front of Han, Minho takes a hand to his best friend's cheek and gives it a squeeze without making a face. I feel his eyes pan over to me, the two soulless pits of dismay attempting to eat me alive so he could swoop in and take away my Jade.

My heart starts to beat heavily, pounding against my ribcage. Curling my fingers on the empty glass I clung to, I debate getting up to refill my glass, but that would give Minho an invitation to talk about me. The two were babbling about Han’s work day anyway, would they even care if I left?

Slipping out of my chair I try to catch my balance, almost falling into the table. Both Han and Minho exclaim some sounds of shock, then laughter once they realize I’m steady on my feet. Faking a smile I tip my empty glass and pop my eyebrows.

“And this was only one,” I said, rounding the table, attempting to escape Han’s dreadful cologne and Minho’s resentful glare.

“And counting last night, or, this morning. Stop the tequila!” Han laughed, waving a finger in my direction. Rolling my shoulders back I eyed him curiously. Minho takes in my figure and I want nothing more than to crawl away to the bar, where I can drown my sorrows in liquor and be alone. He had a way of making people feel so small.

Mulling over what Han has said, I chuckled and nodded, wiggling the glass around. “So she did tell you already,” I said, shooting him a glance with as much intensity as Minho was grilling me with. Han’s lips pull into an adorable smirk as he lowers his chin and flashes me his puppy dog eyes.

“I didn’t want you to know she told me,” he said, his tone sweet. “If you wanted me to know you would’ve said something.”

“Told you what?” Minho asked him, looking between the two of us. Rolling my eyes I heard Minho laugh as I turned over my shoulder to finally walk away. He would get the info out of Han in a heartbeat, in fact, he didn’t really need to ask him, Han would let it slip out eventually. He’s got an uncontrollable desire to gossip, his well being depended on it.

Keeping my eyes pointed forward I make it to the bar without any distractions and plant my glass down on the wood that matched the tables and sit down on one of the stools with a cushion flatter than my will to stay here for the night. The bartender with blonde hair hanging at her shoulders in what I assume is her natural curl pattern approaches me and takes my glass, giving me a smile.

“What’ll it be next?” she asked, resting an elbow on the edge. Her blue eyes hint that I should make my way back here later after her shift is over. She couldn’t have been older than me, if anything she was a bit younger. I’ve seen her here behind the bar a couple of nights prior to tonight, meaning she must not know who any of us were yet. The other bartenders knew how to fill up my glass and leave me be, like Minho.

“Uh, may as well give me the bottle,” I said, and it made her laugh. Attempting to smile, the sound she makes resembles one that every other female I’ve come into contact with has made.

“I’m afraid that’s against the rules,” she said, leaning toward me, now resting both her elbows on the bar. Mimicking her, I cross my arms over my chest and set them on the ledge. She took my gesture as some sort of incentive because the smile that took over her glossy lips gave me the impression that she thought I was flirting with her. “You come around here a lot?”

“Unfortunately,” I mumbled, peering down at the glass she took from me. “You’re new. My friends are here all the time, you’ll get to know us eventually.”

“You with Minho?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. Nodding in response I watch as she laughs to herself and taps the glass on the wood. “I gotchu.”

“What’s your name?”

“Dina,” she said. “Are you Jeongin or Changbin?” It was my turn to huff out a laugh.

“Close,” I smirked. “Hyunjin.”

Dina’s blue eyes are sparked full of intrigue. “Ah,” she sings aloud, “Interesting. In that case,” she holds up the glass, “I really do gotchu. Gimme a minute.”

After grabbing the glasses of the people beside me, Dina whisked her way down the bar to whip up whatever she had planned, or whatever she had heard about me from Minho, and that I can only imagine is a trip. Her flirty eyes switched to ones that irked my soul. She attempted to look through me, she wanted to know me, but only my dirt. No one ever wanted to know more.

Knitting my hands together, I draw my thumb over a small callus on my palm, hook my feet on the rungs of the stool beneath me and sigh. The appearance of my hands reflected how I felt. Torn up, battered, and bruised. As repulsive as they were to me, Jade could never, ever get enough. She couldn’t even describe why they did what they did to her, they just drove her nuts, and she didn’t even care if my work beat them up, she said it made them sexier.

In all of my time spent with her, an entire year, she almost always zoned in to my appearance- complimenting how I looked, messing with my hair, kissing my knuckles, admiring my nose. In those moments that’s when she turns into the other girls, briefly, when she’s got her fingers laced in my hair and she’s biting my lip- because at the end of the day that’s all they want from me.

A full glass is placed in front of me pulling me out of my thoughts that were seconds away from spiraling. Dina is back with a small smile, popping a straw into the tall cup. With a wink she leans over the bar and whispers, “You’ve got a blonde checking you out over there.” Her blue eyes flicker behind me momentarily before she smiles warmly and hurries away to take care of her other guests.

I’ve got a blonde checking me out over there. She definitely didn’t know us, or didn’t know I was kind of involved with Jade. Unless Minho’s recruited her as well, making her play wingman to push me further away from the group, further away from Jade.

Picking up my glass, I place the straw between my lips and spin around on the stool to find this blonde, to see if she was even worth any of my time. I hadn’t decided if tonight was a night to create another problem or not, my main focus right now was to get drunk enough to not be able to remember what Jade and Minho get up to.

Dina was funny. Amongst the sea of people there wasn’t a single blonde aside from herself, which I had to admit, was an excellent play. I spotted Jade between Minho and Chan with her head tossed backward and her eyes closed, feeling the music as they all moved to the beat. Looking for Han, I wasn’t able to place him which was equally relieving and terrifying.

Scanning the rest of the crowd by the door, and then by the DJ, it was pretty packed for a weeknight. Then again, Haven was always bursting at the walls. With the heavy pours and the cheap prices one wouldn’t expect different.

Taking another long sip of the deliciousness Dina has curated, I start to spin back around on the stool, but then I find the blonde.

Wedged against the furthest wall Han sat on the lap of a curvy woman with long black hair with his arms wrapped around her neck. He had his cheek pressed to hers, and his lips were moving a mile a minute as he spoke to a boy in ripped jeans and t-shirt- Changbin. As happy as I was to see him, my eyes were glued to the tall, gangly blonde hovering behind him with his back pressed to the wooden planked wall.

It was Felix. It was Felix.

He was quick to catch me looking, his eyes darted away faster than anything, focusing on the people in front of him.

Hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy jeans that hung on his tiny frame, the loose shirt he wore, covered in tiny green and blue stripes, was cut low enough to give me a glimpse of his collar bone and the tanned skin that lived under it. I’ve seen him wear this shirt before, except it was around Christmas time in December and he paired it with a white long sleeved shirt beneath it for warmth.

There was a watch on his left hand strapped to his thin wrist, and when he adjusted his arms to cross them over his chest I found that he was wearing a couple rings on his middle fingers as well.

His skin was smooth, tan and glistening, and freckles littered his cheeks all the way across his nose. Felix looked like summer, it was as if the sun shone just for him.

The blonde hair that was cut short in the front but grew longer in the back made it hard for one to figure out if it was his real color or not, he could pull it off so naturally. Tonight it was a little curly, twisting against the nape of his neck and over his deep brown eyes covering his brows.

He was simple. He always has been since the day I met him. Happy, too. Felix never seemed to have much to complain about.

Looking at me again with only his wandering eyes, I can’t help it. Lifting my glass, I smile. Dina had no idea who he was, she barely had a grasp on who I was, he probably wasn’t checking me out, if anything he may have been contemplating joining me or not, but with how we don’t really know too much about one another maybe he was nervous or something-

Walking toward me. Felix was walking toward me.

I felt the need to sit up straight and I did. I also tucked my hair behind my ears, cursing myself for not bringing a tie to pull it back with.

Leaning backward against the bar, I slid an arm over my waist and put my other elbow on it, taking another sip from the straw in my glass that was a real curse. Dina should know this as a bartender, you shouldn’t drink alcohol through a straw.

“You know you shouldn’t be drinking that with a straw,” is the first thing to leave Felix’s mouth as soon as he’s close enough to me. I nearly choked on my liquor as I swallowed it while I laughed. The sunshine smiles, perfect teeth all in a row.

“I was just thinking that,” I said after a breath. Turning around to place the glass down, I face Felix again and place my hands between my knees, letting the knobby joints squeeze some warmth into them.

“Hi,” Felix said, his hands sliding back into his pockets.

“Hi,” I said, noticing there was a three foot gap between us. “Wanna sit? You drinking?”

Shrugging, Felix gestures back to Changbin. “I drove us, not sure I should have anything.” His beauty didn’t correlate to his demeanor, he was stiff as a board. Maybe he was nervous.

Glancing to the empty stool beside me, I look at him with only my eyes and smile. “Doesn’t mean you can’t sit.” He had trouble breaking into the group when he first came around, this much I knew, so without a Changbin to hide behind I felt responsible for… well, him.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said with another shrug. A smile toyed with his plump lips, like it was always there.

Walking around the opposite side of the stool to avoid getting too close to me, he hops on with a soft sigh and shamelessly lets his gaze fawn over me. Feeling grateful that I’d showered, I smiled and spun around so we were both facing the bar.

Just be his friend, I thought to myself, you need a friend.

Which then reminds me how shitty I am at the friend thing. I only ever see anybody when I’m here, and most times it isn’t voluntary, I get dragged out of the apartment by Jade. I wouldn’t even call half of the people I hang out with friends anyway, so it wasn’t like I had many to keep up with. After college Changbin was the one to keep up with me, somehow understanding that I’m shitty at the friend thing-

“Keep overthinking and you’ll give yourself a headache before the tequila gets a chance to give you one first,” Felix’s accent is thick and it turns my ears pink, and not because he’s just read me like a book. Blinking a few times I glance his way and find his big eyes studying me. They’re slightly narrowed, and darting from either one of mine after they draw a conclusion from my brows.

Rolling my shoulders back I attempt to relax my expression finding myself clenching my jaw to the point of it feeling sore once I unhinge it. “Damn,” I can’t help but huff a laugh.

“You okay?” Felix asked. He receives a drink from Dina, which I assume he ordered while my mind wandered into the void yet again. She gives me a cheeky look before she disappears.

“Uh, yeah,” I muttered, leaning forward to suck down my drink until it was almost empty. Felix shakes his short glass around taking a small sip. “Thought you weren’t gonna drink?”

Licking his lips, I totally tried not to watch, he extended his arm to put his glass in front of my face, nodding his head once, telling me to take a sip. Flustered by his forwardness, I lower my chin and let him guide me to taste it.

The clear fizzy bubbles were simply a glass of Sprite.

I cringe at the intensity of the fizz making him laugh, and the boisterous, melodic sound is enough to paralyze me. The edges of his eyes crinkled, and his eyebrows perked up slightly, wearing the amusement purely in his complexion. His smile though… that was enough to cure a bad day, and it was happening without me even realizing it.

“You choose… Sprite?” I sneered, smacking my lips a few times before guzzling down what was left in my glass between the melted ice cubes. Felix laughs again. Soda was the bane of my existence, it was utterly disgusting, I couldn’t see why anyone would find it refreshing or as a first choice for a beverage- but I’d suffer through a glass just to keep him laughing.

“It’s good, you jerk.” The grin he wore negated his choice of word. “I’m responsible for another life tonight, I can’t drink.” Admirable.

“Still,” I shot him a sarcastic side eye, “It’s soda.”

“I just think you’re upset that your taste buds can’t handle the excellence that is this carbonated beverage,” Felix said. There’s a brief pause between us, one that makes us fall into a fit of laughter.

“Carbonated beverage,” I repeated, making us laugh even harder. “So specific.”

“Oh god,” Felix groans amongst the laughter, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Setting down his glass he massages his temples and takes a deep breath. “It’s been a long day.”

Following his breath I took my own, I hadn’t laughed in a while. “You worked, right?”

Dina swung back around to swipe my glass, replacing it with another full one and a wink.

“I did, and it was exhausting,” Felix said. “Everyone and their mother showed up today, I had, like, no breaks.”

Sipping my drink that tasted sweeter than the second one, I twisted my body toward him in the slightest. “Are you in the same… the, uh, same place as Changbin?” I asked tentatively, half worried he’d be offended that I never properly learned what he did for work.

With a smile he nods, sipping his amazing soda. “We’re still in the same place, just different positions, if that makes sense?” I give him a small hum to encourage him to go on. “We’re both with the kids, but Changbin kind of floats around the entire building while I stay in one wing.”

“Right,” I said quietly, zoned in on how expressive his face was as he spoke. “‘Cause he’s the music, and all that.”

Felix’s smile widens. “He’s the music, I like that.” I begged the blush not to rush to my cheeks. “He really is. The kids love him. I swear, most days we don’t make it through without him, ‘specially where I’m at.”

Furrowing my brows I rest my chin in one of my hands. “What do you do?”

“I work with the high risk kids,” he said, giving his head a little shake. “Anxiety, trauma, depression, PTSD. I’m usually the last option before… Well, if what I do doesn’t work out for them, they get admitted.”

Suddenly the quiet, smiley, always nice Felix made so much sense. He was a children's therapist alongside Changbin who worked in music therapy for all ages, all cases. No wonder Felix could feel what I was feeling when he sat down. That’s probably the reason he was checking me out from across the room. He had the ability to see the dark cloud over my head.

“A busy day means you helped a lot of kids,” I offered, taking note of how much I had drunk while he was talking. I was almost down another glass. Felix rolls his eyes slightly, the first tinge of negative emotion I’ve seen touch his angelic features.

“God, I hope so,” he said, shaking his glass. “I have one boy whose mother’s on the verge of taking him in, even though I’m doing everything I can.”

He didn’t intend to, but his words tumbled me back to twelve years old, when I’m pretty sure I had my first bout of panic. My mother was never around though, it was just me and my dad, and god forbid I ever felt nervous in front of him or tried to tell him I didn’t feel good.

“How old is he?” I asked. Felix pressed his lips together in a silly smile.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he said, then leaned in toward me to whisper, “Twelve.”

Up close like this, with a few inches between us, I could’ve counted the freckles on his cheeks if I wanted to. He didn’t stay within my personal bubble for too long before pulling away and sipping his drink.

His jaw could cut glass. I could literally slide my hand over it and it would hurt, that was how sharp it was. Although, as sharp as some of his features were, like his jaw or his collarbone, everything about Felix was soft. He was gentle. He was beautiful. No… He was pretty. And to me, that was a step above beautiful. Almost anything could be beautiful, but not everything could be pretty.

I think I’m a bit tipsy.

Clearing my throat, directing my attention to his eyes that gaze at the neon signs on the wall, the ones giving his round cheeks a tinge of a yellow glow, I asked, “What’s he deal with? The boy?”

Felix turns his chin, giving me another look that’s supposed to tell me he’s not allowed to share. The batting of his lashes, that definitely wasn’t intentional, makes my stomach flutter.

What the fuck?

“Let’s just say he’s kind of a nervous guy, okay?” he said, ending the discussion. “What about you?” Felix shifts his shoulders to face me like I had done to him. “Did you work today? Help a lot of people? You do that too, yanno.”

An exasperated breath escapes me. Dropping both hands into my lap I lean backward and shake my head. “No, no work for me today. Or yesterday.” Felix nodded, letting his gaze fall down my torso again before it came back up to my eyes. It was curious, how it felt like he was observing me. The friends in the back would do the same, yet when Felix does it, it doesn’t feel vulgar.

I’m shocked he even remembers what I do. It’s not like it was a career of importance, all I did was service cars in a mechanics garage- hence why my hands were destroyed, I hated the gloves, I worked with them bare. I wouldn’t say I helped people in the way Felix or Changbin did, I wasn’t healing people’s past’s, or working through their trauma, I was changing their oil, or repairing the engine beneath the hood of their ancient vehicles.

Like, seriously, the eighties happened six years ago. Get with the times. Get a new car.

“Do anything fun today, then? Anything exciting while I was coloring on the floor with a nine year old?” Felix’s smile is charming.

“Uh, well,” I began, wondering if I should share the events of last night, or, early this morning, with him. Then again, if Felix was to become a close friend that meant I had to share these things with him. I’d totally tell Changbin, shit, he’d be the first person I called if I didn’t share an apartment with Jade.

Damn it, Jade. It was like I had forgotten about her the second I saw Felix.

Whipping my head around to find her, she was perched on a high top chair with a glass in her hand full of a pink colored drink. One of the guys grabbed it for her without a doubt, they must’ve scurried over to the end of the bar Felix and I didn’t occupy to slyly get by.

Chan was next to her, a muscley arm around the back of her chair. Han and Changbin had found them, occupying the other seats with drinks. Minho and his silver hair, and his sturdy back, and his defined cheekbones were facing away from me. He was across the table in front of Jade, standing, leaning on the wood with a foot propped up on the rung of Han’s stool.

They were looking at each other, Jade’s eyes alight as she ran her mouth. When she paused to sip her drink, Minho spoke, and she watched him like he was made of stars.

Beside me Felix turns, following my line of sight.

“Everything okay?” he asked, like he could see my heart slipping out of my chest. “Wanna go sit over there?”

“Definitely not,” I whispered harshly, declining his offer with haste. Directing my attention to the bar as Jade’s discussion seemed to intensify, I sighed a bit dramatically, making Felix laugh.

“Did something happen?” he questioned. A quick shake of my head isn’t enough to satisfy him, and though it didn’t feel as if he was pestering me, I didn’t want to spill my insecurities to someone who didn’t know an ounce of my struggles. “You guys didn’t break up, did you?”

Slamming a hand on the bar I nearly broke my neck to shoot him a glare. “Do you want to be my therapist?”

My bitter tone slaps him across the face, hard. His lips pull into a small pout and his eyes go extremely wide. Taking a breath he gives me a small nod of his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I overstepped, I’m sorry.”

Raising a brow I wait for him to say absolutely anything else before I choose my response. Apologies weren’t something I usually received, I was always the one to do the giving. All Felix had done was ask me some simple questions that I didn’t want to answer, it surely didn’t seem like anything to apologize for.

“No,” I shook my head, blinking a few times. Felix’s pout dissolves. “I’m… I’m sorry.” Familiar tasting words. Now this was normal.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Felix shrugged, brushing away the matter, sipping his drink. “I shouldn’t have pushed it, we can discuss more of my clients even though I could potentially get fired.” His smile returns and the polite change of subject puts me back in foreign territory. My comment wasn’t lashed back at with a rude remark, nor was it used against me. Felix didn’t get upset, he understood my backlash, why I did it, and moved past it without an explanation.

“I’m sorry,” I felt the need to repeat myself, keeping my eyes locked on his.

After another sip of his soda he puts the glass down and twists to face me completely. A smirk toyed at the corners of his lips.

“You don’t have to apologize, Hyunjin, it’s alright,” he said, reaching over to tap the top of my knee quickly. The sound of my name rolling off of his tongue was spine tingling.

“Yes, I do,” I said, turning myself to face him directly, our knees now touching. My legs were a little longer than his, so eventually my knees were going to have to end up between his.

“Why?” he asked, twisting his brows, giving his head a slight, endearing tilt.

Swallowing hard, I clear my throat and dart my eyes around his face to search for an answer. I had no idea what to say. I was taught growing up that if you made someone upset, you were to apologize for it. Jade’s heard the word ‘sorry’ more times than she can probably count.

The way Felix made a face after I snapped made me want to apologize, but I hadn’t a clue why he was questioning me for it.

“Uh,” I mumbled, finding warmth and comfort within his dark chocolate eyes, enough of it to try to speak up. “I thought I, uh, hurt your feelings, when I…”

Felix waited patiently for me to finish and only butted in when he realized I couldn’t put it together.

“I fired you up first,” he said. “I crossed a line after you tried to shut it down. You established a boundary, you had every right to bark like that.” I couldn’t hide the laugh that escaped me at the use of the word bark. Pressing my lips together in a small smile, I shook my head.

“You really are a therapist,” I said, dragging my eyes sarcastically over his tiny frame. Felix pops his brows, his grin glimmering with glamour.

Lifting his glass like I had before he sat down, he said, “A fine one, at that.” He takes the rim to his lips and shoots back the rest of the bubbles.

Taking this time to admire him and his perfectly sculpted profile, I cannot seem to shake the feeling of desire that begins to manifest within my chest. And, not a desire that I was used to feeling three drinks deep into a hangover recovery night. I wanted him to keep talking. I wanted to watch his lips to tell me more about this boundary thing, and how I wasn’t wrong for having feelings, and I wanted to ask him why talking about it felt weird.

If that would be him talking about work, I felt bad asking him to do it. I know how it feels to get off of a long shift and then have someone ask me to check their tires, I’d hate to make him use his brain when he should be having a fun night.

Felix was eyeing me back, bumping one of my knees by accident as he adjusted his feet under him. Realizing I was staring, I glanced at my glass quickly and found it empty.

When the hell did I finish that?

Looking back at Felix, he was still focused on me. He was waiting for me to say something. My tequila blundered thoughts couldn’t come up with anything smart, and beneath his gaze it was impossible for me to whip up anything sarcastic. He waited. He wasn’t going to… push.

“You look like you wanna say something?” he asked. Okay, he was waiting, but I guess he also wanted to help.

“I do,” I said, and he nodded. “But, I don’t want to… overstep.”

What the fuck is going on, I don’t talk like this.

Felix leans his cheek against the fist of the arm that rests on the bar, and the plush skin squishes on his knuckles, his appearance softening even more so, if it were possible.

“Say it,” he shrugged again. “If you overstep, you overstep. I’ll communicate it with you if you do.” His smile tells me a secret, it tells me he knows my objective. Calm, nice Felix finally shows a hint of mischievousness.

Darting my tongue between my lips, I notice that Felix tries his hardest not to watch. Rocking one of my knees into his I glance down at where they touch and lift just my eyes to look at him. A bit of his bottom lip has gone between his teeth, nibbling at the inside. The chocolate brown eyes that were once sweet had shifted to something that startled me a little to see. I didn’t know Felix was capable of eyes like that.

His knees close, catching one of my legs between them as predicted. “Don’t act so surprised, you’ve been looking at me exactly like that since I sat down,” he said quietly. My lips part, in surprise, and I’m incapable of conjuring up words. Alas, the air within Haven claims another victim. With a small nod of his head to the dance floor, Felix leaned toward me and whispered, “Either tone down the arousal, or tell me what’s happening with Jade. I don’t do cheaters.”

#skz

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

HAVEN. (3) -> Lee Know x Fem!Reader ( she/her pronouns )

summary: Welcome to your future, one you never could have imagined for yourself. Ever. It was only two years ago you and Minho renounced your Haven days, only to get swallowed by diapers and sleepless nights. For once, you think you're finally happy, but nonetheless, he finds you again.

words: 6k

warnings: infidelity themes, babies, no smut (sorry lol), hyunlix, violent themes (one punch is thrown), everyone is just still so toxic will they ever have any peace, if I forgot anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

a/n: Not sure how many people will like the turn this took. I don't know why this came out of me, and I don't know why I did such a huge time jump. I love this, however. This feels like an ending, but also like a stepping stone. Not sure this is over yet. ENJOY! xo

“Dada! Dada! Dada!” Is screamed from the high chair beside where you sit pulling apart pieces of banana, tossing them onto the tray for the little boy to eat.

“Baby! Baby! Baby!” Gets shouted back from the dark haired, sweater wearing figure with his back to you. Glancing over his shoulder, Minho smiles at your son, reassuring him he was still there, he was only cooking at the stove.

The house smelled of a mix of sweet and savory breakfast foods Minho had started preparing after you popped your baby in the bathtub. It was Saturday morning, which meant he had the day off- the entire weekend off, actually- leaving him with forty-eight hours to do his favorite thing. Take care of his little family.

When life shifted for the two of you, Minho wasted no time. In a week you were officially moved into his house with some help from Han and Chan, and for a year and a nine months or so, you’ve been living somewhat peacefully in your unexpected happily ever after.

Finding out you were pregnant didn’t come as much of a shock, if anything it became a nuisance. Almost like a reality check, or some type of wake up call, those two pink lines you discovered in Han’s bathroom put everything into perspective.

For nearly the entirety of the pregnancy, you were riding an unpredictable whirlwind of a rollercoaster. It was truly an unforgiving trip, one you never hope to experience ever again.

The chubby cheeks and cheesy smile that was being flashed at you this morning made it all worthwhile, however. Bringing your son into this world after debating whether or not you wanted to was the best decision you had ever made for yourself.

“Dada!” He shouts once again, with more persistence since Minho was focused on the pans in front of him. Turning back with a silly glare for the baby, your son erupts into a fit of giggles, throwing a chunk of banana onto the tiled kitchen floor to which Minho gasps.

“Not on the floor that hasn’t been washed in… forever,” Minho groans, then starts to laugh as he looks at you. Breaking off a piece of the fruit, you pop it in your own mouth and shake your head, wearing a smile.

“Someone should do something about that,” You say.

“If he’s gonna make more messes, why clean it in the first place?” Minho snickers, then focuses back on his work.

Slapping a hand on the tray, your son grabs a fistful of banana and holds it up in the air, turning you.

“Don’t even think about it,” You say gently, smizing at your son. He cracks a smile, one that squishes his cheeks and almost closes his eyes as he showed off his few tiny teeth. He was a carbon copy of his father with his round face, soft jaw, and button nose.

Every time he smiled you were reminded of where he came from, his little grin had the ability to take over his expression just like his fathers, his eyes scrunched into little half moons just the same.

“Eat your banana,” You say, watching him relax as you continue to speak kindly to him, “It is so tasty, trust me, I’ve eaten more of it.” Rolling your eyes, you take another bite and hear Minho laugh from the stove.

“There’s two more over here, want another?” He asks, peering over toward you. Outside there’s a sound of a car pulling up into the driveway.

“No thank you,” You answer vaguely, leaning forward in your chair to try to see out the kitchen window. This neighborhood was typically a quiet one, and to get to your driveway one would have to take a detour down an alleyway not many people knew about. It was extremely rare to have surprise visitors.

“Is Han coming over?” You ask, standing up, “Ah!” You raise your voice in defeat as your son jackhammers the banana to the floor, laughing with glee.

“No, he’s away this weekend,” Minho mumbles, half in the zone as he glances around to find the source of your stress. Clicking his tongue when he caught sight of the squished fruit, he sighs and chuckles. He says some cute things to the baby as you fold your arms over your chest and step over to the back door to get a good look out the window.

A dark, sapphire blue four door model of an expensive sports car was parked beside Minho’s Range Rover, a car you haven’t seen a day in your life. The windows were tinted black, shielding whoever was inside from the outside world.

“Who is it?” Minho asks from behind you. He took matters into his own hands and was now feeding the banana directly to your son, who didn’t seem to want to put up a fight. If he had Minho’s attention, he was happy as ever.

“Probably some lost jackass,” You mutter, squinting at the vehicle.

This has happened before, random people pulling into your’s, or your neighbors driveways, looking for their way across town. It wasn’t a bougie way of live where you were living, in fact it was pretty run down, but it’s perfect for your family.

“Baba, baba,” Your son babbles with a mouthful of banana, “Baaaba!”

“Shit, I didn’t make one,” You sigh, turning to the boys for a second. Minho pops another piece of fruit between the baby’s lips and nods.

“I got it,” He smiles, checking you out head to toe as he walks towards the cabinets to prepare a bottle for your son.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Your cheeks flush after he winks at you.

“Can’t help it,” He playfully rolls his eyes, scooping formula from a tin, “You’re gorgeous.”

Giggling to yourself, you bite onto your bottom lip and glance down at your pajamas that were overdue for a wash. Your hair was pulled back messily and there wasn’t a trace of makeup on your morning face, you haven’t even showered yet, the baby was clean before you. Mom life wasn’t glamorous in the slightest, yet Minho had a way of making you feel like you were a million bucks every single day.

Giving him one more happy smile, your attention is turned back outside at the sound of a car door slamming shut. Long, sleek blonde hair pulled back halfway in a tie with angry brows and eyes glaring at you in the window are walking toward the back porch steps.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Your tone falls disgustingly bitter. The smile you once wore is smacked off your expression by the grimace moving closer to your door.

At the counter, Minho tries asking you what was going on, and who had shown up, though judging by your tone he could take a wild guess and hit a bullseye.

Snatching the handle of the door, you storm out onto the porch before the dominatrix has a chance to walk up the stairs. He walked with a purpose, his shoulders slightly raised in anger.

“What the fuck do you want, Hyunjin?” You spat, your stance wide at the top of the stairs so he couldn’t get past you. Looking up at you from the ground, he drags his tongue across his bottom lip, smirking, taking in the sight before him.

It’d been three months since the last time either of you were around one another.

If it were two years ago, you’d be sweating under pressure standing here dressed like this in front of him. The person you were before Minho and your son was weak for Hyunjin, you’d be insanely flustered and would rather drop dead than let this heartthrob see you without a shower.

More than one blessing came from having your son, you were gifted the ability to no longer care what other people thought of you, especially this asshole. Your priorities were to raise and protect your son, and nurture your relationship with Minho.

Hyunjin tucks a piece of his lightened hair behind his ear and places his hands on the railings of the stairs, lifting a foot to rest it on the bottom one. You copy his stance, asserting dominance, telling him with body language that he wasn’t getting inside your home.

“Answer the question,” You mutter, sharpening your eyes.

“Not even a hello,” Hyunjin sighs, the angsty smirk still playing on his lips, “You’ve changed.”

“I haven’t heard from you in three months, you don’t deserve a hello,” You say, “What the fuck do you want, before I call the cops.”

Narrowing his glare, he cocks his head to the side and quietly says, “I want my son.”

A loud, humorless cackle of disbelief escapes you. Tossing your head backward, you sigh heavily and can’t hide the fury that manifests as a maniacal grin.

“You’re unbelievable,” You say. Hyunjin doesn’t find it as funny as you.

“I want my son,” He says a bit louder, tightening his grip on the posts.

“Then you should’ve called the judge,” You throw in his face, “Three months, Hyunjin. Thats a looot of visits to miss, you broke the fucking agreement, and now you show up without permission, which is also against the agreement, and demand me to give you my son.”

The main reason you were unsure whether or not to become a mother was staring you in the face. In fact, it had to do with both men, the one taking care of the baby inside the house as well. That night at Han’s, after feeling sick for almost an entire month, the moment those lines appeared you were distraught, your heart ripping directly in half.

Coming out of a fresh break up, the two men you were romantically tangled up with had overlapped, leaving you unsure of who the child belonged to.

Twenty minutes were spent on the bathroom floor in silent tears, but the boys in the house were too good, and knew you too well. Minho sat outside the door, waiting patiently, asking you every now and again if you were alright and if you’d open the door for him when you were ready.

Around the fifth time he asked, once you’d exhausted yourself with sobs, you pulled the doorknob and popped the door open a crack. Minho stepped inside carefully, pouting at the sight of you curled up in a ball on the floor. He sat down next to you, held out his hand for you to hold and let you tell him what was going on at your own pace. From the very first moment, Minho was nothing but supportive, respectful and loving. He stepped up and took on the role Hyunjin didn’t want even though there was a chance the child wasn’t his.

A couple of months into your pregnancy you were able to find out who was responsible for the little one, and Minho was on board straight away. He accompanied you to all of your appointments anyway, and you were living in his house, there wasn’t a second thought whether he’d want to help you or not.

Hyunjin was the one you had to chase. One would think if there was a fifty fifty shot that he’d be able to avoid this for the rest of his life that he’d want to take it, but it took Minho going through Han, going through Chan, going through Changbin, going through Felix to get to the bastard.

You prayed to a God you never believed in that the child was Minho’s.

You wanted to be rid of Hyunjin.

Unfortunately that wasn’t your fate, and now you were stuck dealing with him whenever he decided he wanted to be a father.

Part of you wonders if the ring Minho put on your finger after your son was born had anything to do with Hyunjin’s need to still care.

“Our lawyers alway said that if we could work it out on our own we wouldn’t need to go to court,” Hyunjin’s tone mimics a taunt, like he’s talking down to a child. It boils your blood further.

“I’m dealing with you, I have to go to court,” You grill, “My son is a year and three months old. He’s going to start recognizing who is and isn’t around.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Hyunjin shrugs, finding nothing wrong with his unannounced visit. Groaning audibly, you laugh again in sheer frustration.

“It’s damaging, Hyunjin,” You shake your head, “You coming around every few months like he’s a dog who’ll be excited to see you no matter how long you’ve been gone. He’s a baby, this shit is psychologically damaging and I won’t let it happen to my son.”

“Our son,” Hyunjin smizes, knowing those words always got under your skin. Maintaining face, you harden your glare and clench your jaw. You said what needed to be said, he wasn’t getting his hands on that baby.

From inside the house you hear your little one belly laughing, which means Hyunjin can hear him too. The smirk he wore on his lips falters at the sound. If there was anything he loathed most about this situation, it was that you ended up with Minho.

“Oh, wow, he’s actually home?” He scoffs theatrically, “Thought he took any chance he could get to go to work. I heard flirting with customers for tips doesn’t make you much.”

“You should really get your facts straight before you try to piss me off,” You say raising your brows, “Where do you get your information from? Minho hasn’t worked at the bar for like six months.” Prodding his cheek with his tongue, Hyunjin shakes his head and glances away. It was a tiny victory, stumping him when he tried to play his mind games that no longer affected you. Every time he came back, you only got stronger.

“Let me have him, I’ll bring him back tomorrow,” He says, shifting only his eyes over to you.

Grinning, you nod towards the car and say, “You even have a carseat? A crib? Bottles? Formula? Maybe a stroller?” He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him right off, “What do you even need him for? You didn’t want him!” Hyunjin slams his fists into the posts on the stairs, startling you.

“What if I want him now, dammit?!” He shouts.

You hear the door behind you open with a creak of the hinges. Keeping your glare fixed on Hyunjin, you watch with glee as his changes when he catches a glimpse of Minho over your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Minho asks, looking down to Hyunjin with disgust.

The man at the bottom of the stairs can’t seem to put together an answer, in fact it doesn’t seem like he’s heard what Minho’s said at all.

Turning your head, you find Minho close to the door with your son in his arms. The baby was content, laying back in the nook of Minho’s elbow sucking down the bottle that he made. The sight was enough to make anyone melt.

“I don’t appreciate the noise,” Minho, though coddling a baby, appeared defensive, “Especially while there’s children present.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, knowing Minho chose those words on purpose.

“It’s ten in the fucking morning,” He says.

“Language?” Minho furrows his brows.

“Please, you live with this one,” He points to you, “She’s no fucking Mary Poppins. When did you get so soft, Min?” Titling his head to the side, Hyunjin smirks infamously, again.

“A lot changes when you become a father,” Minho narrows his eyes, “But I don’t need to explain, you already get it, don’t you?” If looks could kill, Minho would be dead on the floor.

Stepping up onto the bottom stair, Hyunjin leans forward, ready to unload his meaningless bullshit, but the passenger door of his sports car is slammed shut, gathering everyone's attention from the porch.

“Hyunjin,” Felix’s deep voice shouts, “Let’s go.” Another boy you haven’t seen in three months. Though you’ve heard from him, you text almost every other day. Not much had changed, except his hair that was now black as night. He was still tall, lanky, baby-faced Felix.

He gives you a look, a sympathetic one, as if he’s apologizing to you.

“Really?” You frown, and Felix shrugs.

“I’m sorry,” He says, giving his head a small shake, “I tried to stop this.”

“Always,” Hyunjin groans dramatically, rolling his head backward, “You always have to take her side.” Felix takes three steps closer, folding his arms.

“I do,” His tone is stern. Looking back at you, his eyes flicker to the baby for a second, then back to you. “Y’okay?” He asks, his intention meaning something deeper.

“Be a lot better if I had a warning,” You say. Closing his eyes, Felix shrugs and shakes his head again. He knows better, he should’ve called, but then again you know how Hyunjin can be when he gets something in his head. It’s inevitable.

“We weren’t coming here,” Felix mutters, sending a glare toward Hyunjin who’s grilling his boyfriend right back, “Let’s go. I told you how to go about this, this isn’t it. I’m driving us home.”

Behind you the baby coo’s, shifting himself around in Minho’s arms to look where Felix’s voice was coming from. The bottle falls from his lips, Minho catching it quick before it rolls onto the ground.

Your son lifts a finger and points toward Felix, uttering a quiet, “Who?”

Sharing a look with Minho, you take a breath and say, “That’s Felix.”

“Vee-liss,” The baby tries to repeat, making Minho chuckle. His inquisitive little eyes scan his surroundings, and once they find you he reaches out his arms. “Mama,” He coo’s.

Scooping him up you prop him on your hip and smile as he gazes around the backyard happily, taking in every sight and every sound. Watching him experience life for the first time is something unimaginable, you almost forget that there’s trash on your doorstep.

Swapping your smile for a stone cold glare, you look down at Hyunjin who’s completely enamored by your son.

Eyes as big as the moon, Hyunjin watches the little one intently, slightly smiling at every tiny move he’d make. All four of you stood in silence, letting the child have a moment.

That was a thing parents did with others- sit around and watch their babies do things. Many evenings have been spent with Chan and Han on the living room floor while your son tore apart his toy box. Nights at Haven were a thing of the past.

You keep your eyes on Hyunjin while he watches your son, keeping an indestructible barrier around your heart. A master of charisma, you wouldn’t allow him to ‘puppy dog eye’s’ his way into getting what he wants today.

Shit, that’s what gave you the very thing you hold in your arms.

“He’s beautiful,” Hyunjin whispers, not wanting to disturb the child’s admiration of nature. Sighing, you nod.

Three months ago he saw him through a car window. It was a measly glance, nothing of grandeur, happening just before Hyunjin snatched the child support agreement out of your hands to rip it in half. The day before his first birthday.

“He looks like you,” Hyunjin says, pulling his eyes away from the baby for half a second to look at you.

You scoff and pull a silly face, “Not in the slightest.”

Hyunjin makes a soft sound that warms the edges of the cold front you were projecting, a small laugh that tumbles you backward a couple of years. It was genuine, and you knew it was genuine because Felix gets him to make that sound often. At least, he used to when you’d be around them before the rapture.

Your son looks down at where the sound came from, finally acknowledging the human being a few feet in front of him, a moment you hoped wouldn’t happen.

Hyunjin gives him a smile.

Your son lifts a finger to point at him, saying, “Who?” And Hyunjins smile falters.

The light that started to pool in his eyes the second your son came out onto the porch was wiped away, like the only word your son knew how to properly say in the right context had physically hurt him.

Swallowing hard, you honestly aren’t sure what to say. Hyunjin hasn’t been a constant in his life, he didn’t have a name.

Hannie, was his Uncle Han. Channie, was his Uncle Chan. The other boys, when they came around, got silly nicknames too, but these two weren’t around ever. You never expected them to need introductions.

“Who?” Your son asks again, looking to you for instruction. Meeting his eyes, you try to take a deep breath but feel like someone has wrapped a rope around your lungs.

Hyunjin is watching with a broken heart and a longing gaze, and Minho stands behind you with his arms folded, a protective foot away. One was his father, and the other was actually his father.

Hyunjin, though he put up a believable act today, you weren’t sure if he was going to split again.

So, through your teeth, you mutter a painful, “Jinnie,” just as your son was about to ask you who this man was for the third time.

Placing one hand on your shoulder and the other over your heart, your baby looks at Hyunjin and gives him a once over. A sassy habit of his when he was around anyone unfamiliar, something he inherited from none other than Hyunjin himself.

“Chi-nny,” The baby says.

“That’s me,” Hyunjin says gently.

Breaking your gaze off of your son, you look down to him in shock that he didn’t protest the name.

“Chi-nny, well, Mama,” Your son says, his tone sad, laying his head down on your shoulder. Biting your bottom lip you avert your eyes from Hyunjin and take a grounding breath.

He remembers him.

“Time to go inside,” Minho suggests, smoothing a hand over both of your backs. Hyunjin furrows his brows.

“Why?” He asks.

Thinning your lips for a second you bob your head, “Jinnie, yell, Mama,” You repeat clearly for Hyunjin to hear.

“What!” He screws his face up in confusion, beginning to raise his voice already, proving to the toddler that Jinnie, does in fact, yell at Mama.

“He remembers you,” You shrug, pulling yourself out of the baby daddy fantasy that was minutes away from ensuing.

Hyunjin nearly gasps, “Remembers… me?”

Rolling your eyes you say, “We were in the parking lot of the grocery store. I was picking up his birthday cake, you were visiting the liquor store next door,” Hyunjin glances to the stairs, “It was the first time in a long time I’d caught you, so I tried to give you the paperwork.”

“You took it from her, ripped it to pieces and screamed in her face,” Minho adds, giving your waist a soothing squeeze, “While this one watched from the window.”

The baby in your arms turns around to look at Minho, a grin breaking out onto his chubby cheeks, “Dada,” He coo’s, holding out a hand toward him.

Hyunjin whips his head up in a flash, eyes burning into Minho’s.

“Really? Kid calls you Dada?” He spats, “I’m half of him, and I get Jinnie?”

“Hyunjin,” Felix states, taking three more steps toward the stairs, “Let’s… go.”

The blonde takes a step, getting closer as he rises on the stairs. Behind you, Minho pulls you aside, taking your place at the top of the staircase. His arms fan out to hold onto the railings in case Hyunjin tried to slip through.

“You don’t deserve that title,” Minho grills, narrowing his eyes, “And last time I checked, you aren’t listed on the birth certificate, did you forget about that?”

Hyunjin shoots you a chilling glare that’s broken in more ways than one.

Your son watches his father with caution, observing his behavior while cuddling up on your shoulder. Cradling the back of his head, you look over to Felix and plead him with your eyes to take Hyunjin away.

If anyone could remember what happened the last time these two went nose to nose, they’d want to end this as fast as possible.

Felix nods, dropping his arms to his side.

“Did you forget the kid’s a product of her cheating on you?” Hyunjin’s expression breaks out into a grin, making him seem proud, “Remember that?” He takes another step up the porch, and just before he’s eye level with Minho, who’s temper was rising by the millisecond, Felix is grabbing onto Hyunjin’s wrist.

Minho’s grip on the railings relaxes, color returning to his knuckles as he says, “You’ve gone soft, Jinnie,” Teasing him with his own words, letting the nickname hit him where it hurts, “Felix wear the pants now?” He says while Felix pulls Hyunjin down to the grass, giving Minho a look in the process.

“Minho,” You whisper harshly. Felix has done plenty for you since your son came into the picture, there was no need to talk down to him.

“Sorry, Lix,” Minho says softly, shaking his head.

The lanky boy locking Hyunjin under his arm is about to open his mouth until a car whizzing down your street takes the scene. It comes to a screeching stop at your curb.

“Oh, wonderful,” Hyunjin chuckles.

The car door slams shut behind an angry Chan walking up your lawn. Felix sighs in exhaustion, or frustration. Probably both.

“We’re leaving,” He raises his voice, holding a hand up to Chan, waving a white flag.

“You called Chan?” You whisper to Minho who gives you a smirk.

“Damn right you’re leaving,” Chan says, puffing his chest, stopping beside Hyunjin and Felix’s car.

Your son squirms in your arms, sitting up tall to shout, “ANNIE!”

He catches Hyunjin’s attention once more. Submissive in Felix’s grip while his boyfriend defends him, his gaze softens immensely, sending a shattering crack through the walls you’ve put up around you and your family.

Stumbling over his own feet as Felix guides him to the car, he’s acting like it’s going to be the last time he sees his son. Chan and Minho’s voices are ineffective, he can’t hear a thing they’re saying and neither can you.

Your little one digs his fingers into your arm, agitated by the scene ensuing around him.

“Let me get the door for ya,” Chan snickers, yanking the passenger door of the sports car open. Felix avoids eye contact, letting the bullets in the form of words rain down over them both.

Hyunjin grips onto the edge of the door, resisting Felix’s attempt to sit him down. He frowns, his lips pulling downward in a way they would before he’d cry.

Your son would make the same face.

Felix mutters something to him only the two can hear, and Chan, probably begging him to get in the car so he could avoid a physical end to this story.

“Need some help?” Chan questions sarcastically, rounding the door to grab onto Hyunjin’s arms, yanking them off of the door.

Hyunjin retaliates, tearing his eyes off of the baby, pushing Chan away on the chest. Then the Hyunjin you’ve come to know makes an appearance. Throwing a hand backward in form of a fist, he launches it at Chan, aiming for his jaw, but the Aussie catches it instead, jutting backward the slightest.

Flinching, Felix groans audibly and shoves Chan backward himself with his hip.

“Fuck off!” He shouts at him, “Chan, fuck off!”

Holding his hands up, Chan smirks and takes two steps back.

“I like this Felix,” He says, “Control your man, yeah? You leave my family alone.”

Shaking his head, Felix finally gets Hyunjin into the car, slamming the door shut. He doesn’t say anything to Chan, nor to Minho. Instead, as he rounds the car he gives you a wave and gets inside.

“Bye!” Chan shouts happily, slapping the top of the car twice as it starts to back down the driveway.

The three and a half of you are quiet as you watch the shiny blue car disappear down the street.

A lump manifests in your throat, one that threatens to bring tears to your eyes. Your son, the very being who you swore to protect was experiencing his first moment of grief. And it was for you, of all people, because of his estranged biological father.

There’s a soft babble from your hip, the little one humming a few noises without care, happy the world around him was quiet once more. Taking a look at him he’s focused on you, gazing up with a look that resembles admiration.

He sits himself up properly, holding onto your shoulder with both hands, and smiles.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper to him, giving a smile in return.

Down on the lawn Chan was starting his way up the stairs, brushing his hands together, muttering, “He didn’t touch you did he?” to whoever was listening. Minho, shaking his head, extends a hand to shake one of Chan’s, and begins to explain the situation to him, gesturing toward you a couple of times.

“Maaama,” Your son says softly, bouncing twice, kicking his feet.

“Baaaby,” You sing, dipping your chin down to kiss his squishy cheek. He giggles, shying away for half of a second before he throws himself onto your chest, nuzzling his head against you with the cutest coo.

This is when the tears spill, overwhelming you to the point of a sudden, sharp breath.

Minho whips his head in your direction, eyes wide, Chan glancing your way as well.

“I’m okay,” You mumble, nodding your head a couple of times as the boys hurry to your side. Minho slides an arm over your shoulder, placing his hand on the back of your neck.

Massaging his fingers into your skin, he watches you calm yourself down, then says, “We can do something about this,” He sends a glance to Chan, “We can call our lawyer, see what we can do, or we can call the cops.”

“Yeah, he can’t get away with this,” Chan’s brows are furrowed deep into his eyes, “Disrupting your life unannounced is wrong in the first place, but he broke a contract. You guys could sue, probably.”

Minho swipes his thumb beneath your eyes, brushing away your tears. Falling quiet, he studies you, taking you in, not saying another word until you made up your mind.

You parented your son together, you made decisions together, you were raising him together, you loved him together, however, when it came down to the court, the agreements, the paperwork, the lawyers, the judges… Minho left a majority of that up to you. He shared his opinions and his feelings of course, to which you listened at full attention, taking them into consideration always, making sure he felt as involved as possible.

Minho was your son's father, he was your son's caregiver, he was the one who stayed, the one who stepped up when you could’ve been left with absolutely nothing.

But, one day your son is going to ask why he doesn’t look like him. He’s going to go to school and learn about families and wonder why his friends have simpler family tree’s than him. When he meets new doctors, new people, and has to go over family history he can’t tell them about Minho’s, he doesn’t share an ounce of his DNA.

He’s going to ask questions. He's going to be curious. Knowing yourself, and Hyunjin, the son you shared was going to be a nosey little jerk at some point in time, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to cut off the source or not.

Looking at Minho now, shifting over to Chan momentarily, you can tell the two of them are ready to take action. They want to ruin him, finally put an end to the reign of terror, snuff out the darkness before your little one gains enough consciousness to know it’s even there.

“I can call whoever you want me to call,” Minho says quietly.

Parting your lips, hesitating for a moment, Minho perks a brow, on alert, until your voice paralyzes him.

“No,” You whisper. Your fiancé and best friend are stumped.

Your son has gone quiet, his chest rising and falling heavily against yours, being lulled to sleep by the sound of the birds chirping around you.

“No?” Chan says when he realizes neither of you were going to say much else, looking between you both in disbelief. Minho’s defeated eyes drop down the top of the baby's head. “You’re crying,” He gestures to you, then to Minho, “You’re furious,” He scoffs, “I’m pissed as fuck ‘cause I had to see his face, and now you’re not gonna do a thing about it?”

Taking a deep breath, focused on Minho, you give your head a slight shake, “No.”

“Honestly, what the…” Chan steps backward, dragging his fingers through his dark curls, “You could make money here, you could be done with him, like done with him for real this time, and you’re not gonna do anything-”

“Chan,” Minho snaps. Dropping his hands at his sides Chan turns and sighs. A thousand different things he could say flash through his expression before he even opens his mouth.

“Are you really not going to do anything?” He asks Minho, pausing between statements, emphasizing his frustration, “You’re going to move past this like it never happened? So that it can happen again? And again?”

Swallowing hard, the lump in your throat is back.

“I know you, and I know why you won’t open your mouth,” Chan grills, shooting you a look before he focuses back on Minho, “You’ve got everything you’ve always wanted and more. But, he’s still got his claws in deep.”

“Oh my god,” You groan, rolling your eyes. Tipping your chin up a bit so you don’t have to look at either of them, you let a few tears slip down your cheeks. “Chan, shut up.”

“I’m just saying,” The Aussie shrugs, “To both of you even, it’s been well over a year, longer than that, and he is still messing with you guys.”

“I had his baby,” You sneer, glaring at him, eyes stinging. Sucking in a deep breath you continue, “Maybe it was a stupid decision, maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly because he still has his claws in deep, maybe I was worried this would be my only chance to be a mom, maybe I was pushing a boundary to see if the people who say they love me would stay-“

“You do a lot of that,” Chan nods, clenching his jaw, his own tears welling in his eyes. Minho points his eyes to the baby on your chest again, allowing you and Chan to hash this out yourselves.

Minho wouldn’t be here if he didn’t already know how you were. That was one thing none of your friends could get through their heads.

The realization that you and Hyunjin were one of the same.

Unable to let go of one another, unable to cut the cord, like a couple of sadistic addicts that fed on the drama, that needed it to live.

It appeared in both of your lives differently, Hyunjin’s lying on the forefront for the world to see, while yours lied beneath the surface, a trauma in your subconscious fueling this desire you unknowingly led your life with.

Seemingly enough, you both ended up with someone willing to set your issues aside and put up with them… Or, ignore them, and accept them because they loved you so deeply.

From the day Felix fell into Hyunjin’s trap you couldn’t begin to ever wonder why someone so innocent, someone so sweet with so much going for them would settle for a monster that would bring them nothing but stress.

After what’s just occurred today, and what has happened in the past, you meet Minho’s eyes here on the porch, holding onto a baby that wasn’t his, while wearing a ring he slipped onto your finger, and you wonder the same thing.

How did someone so sweet, with so much understanding, with so much talent, and so much going for them… How did he end up here with you?

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

HAVEN. (2) -> Lee Know x Female!Reader ( she/her pronouns )

summary: It's been three days since Hyunjin caught you with Minho. You should've realized that eventually... something was gonna give. It's crazy how friends you've come to know and love, can become strangers in matters of days.

words: 10k

warnings: INFIDELITY themes all throughout, hyunlix, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking cigarettes, angry boyfriends ( if you can call it that ), SEXUAL CONTENT, unprotected sex ( DONT DO THAT ), smut directly under the cut, mature themes throughout every line of this mofo, If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

a/n: Part two is here, FINALLY! This one took forever, and it's a whirlwind... Good luck.

{ my masterlist }

Long, delicate fingers intertwined with your hair tugging you backward, pulling you flush against his bare chest while he wraps his other arm around you to grip the sides of your neck. Pressing his cheek to yours, he locks you in place while his hips smack into the round of your ass, thrusting into you insatiably.

Babbling mindlessly, he’s fucked you senseless already once, not hesitating to do it again, you didn’t have a clue as to what was spilling from your lips.

Sticking out his tongue, he dances it over your earlobe, a sensitive place you’ve grown to love having him mess with, a trick you use yourself, one you ultimately stole from him.

“Such a good slut for me,” He whispers, nipping the soft skin gently. Rolling your head backward, you lay in the dip of his shoulder comfortably, letting him aggressively, yet passionately, knock away any other thought out of your euphorically static mind.

Pursing his lips he looks down at you, eyes sharp, like he was on alert, simultaneously woven with a tinge of fear, or uncertainty.

Caressing the skin on your neck, releasing his pressure, he kisses your cheek and asks, “Who’s fucking you, baby?”

A mix between a moan and a messy jumble of his name between whimpers makes him chuckle.

“Let’s try that again,” His voice deepens, “Who’s been fucking you all morning?”

Another whine escapes you before you mumble, “Y-You.”

Humming with pride, his grip tightens around your throat, “I have a name,” He grovels just behind his teeth.

“Hyunjin,” Comes out of you fast with a sigh, “Hyunjin!”

Then, the unthinkable occurs.

From the bottom of his soulless, inconsiderate being, comes the loudest, most erotic sound you’ve ever heard him make- one that sparks your release, igniting it ablaze like you were doused in gasoline and he was holding a match.

Shaking in his arms, crying out to him, Hyunjin lays you forward, pressing you into the mattress where he snaps his hips mercilessly. Overstimulation invades your brain, the tiny sensors going off all over your body as you writhe beneath him, listening to him sing you a pretty little song.

Lost in the sounds, in the gasps, in the moans, you nearly miss him coming, pressing deep inside of you with a nasty grip on your body.

On your back, Hyunjin sucks in deep breaths, much like you, releasing a soft whine with every exhale. He stirs slightly to press a kiss to your cheek, the tiny hairs on both of your faces slick with a sweet gleam of sweat.

“So good,” Hyunjin whispers, kissing your skin one more time, “So good.”

Side-eyeing him where you laid, you breathe through your lips, waiting for him to move. There was a wave of electricity surging through your veins, and though your skin tingled with utter ecstasy, you needed him to move.

Shifting your hips, he feels you and tightens his hold, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“No,” He whines, the sounds flowing from him now as if he’s always made them, “Keep me in, it feels so good.”

“Hyunjin, please get up,” You say quietly, and his groan that answers is all too immature, feeding into the pleasurable sounds like it was some type of joke all of a sudden.

“But your pussy’s so…”

“Hyunjin,” You cut him off, speaking up, “Get off of me.”

Following orders, he relaxes his greedy grasp and retreats off of you, taking a few steps away from the bed. Rolling onto your back you flutter your eyes shut and lift your hands to drag them across your face, Hyunjin doing the same to push his dark locks back.

Keeping your eyes covered, you hear him start to putter about the bedroom, searching for his clothes that littered the floor with yours. Listening to his footsteps accompanied by his breaths, there’s a dime sized hole in your heart that begins to ache, churning your stomach with shame. A light nauseating feeling with debilitating capabilities.

An hour and a half ago you showed up to the apartment with the intent of packing some of your things into a bag so you could stay elsewhere while you went through the process of moving. Somehow along the way, after shoving a weeks worth of belongings into the small suitcase, it was left by the door and Hyunjin had fucked you twice in the bed you used to share.

It’s been three days since he caught you and Minho in the backseat of his car going at it like a couple of horny teenagers. Three days after the argument you had at the kitchen table in the early hours of the morning, where you stupidly answered the question he pestered you with, asking you if you were in love with Minho.

The question to which you answered, yes, but then quickly added how you were still very much in love with him, with Hyunjin, hinting to yourself that you weren’t as detached as you hoped to be.

Three days at Minho’s though seemed to be taking some of the edge off, like laughing and rolling around with him over his bedsheets was healthier for you than being used and pushed headfirst into Hyunjin’s. Talk about dirty laundry, that is all this morning in this bed has brought back to you, the countless times the lanky boy wandering about the hardwood floor has let you down.

Avoiding his gaze while you packed your bag, knowing that the second you catch his eye he’ll pull you right under, you made it all the way to the door without succumbing to his bitty bursts of protest.

With a hand on the doorknob, you thought you were safe, in the clear, so you gave him a look. There may have been a couple seconds of thought, if you had to go back and relive it to figure out how you ended up on your back full of his cum, but ultimately the pleading crease in his brow was entirely too heart wrenching to ignore.

One may say that you came onto him, and since you’ve spent a secure amount of time with Minho, you cannot help but feel disgustingly guilty. Words have been shared through heated kisses with Minho, words that amplify this wall of shame to a thousandth degree.

Together, these past three days, the two of you stayed in, avoiding Haven, the drama, and your friends for the sake of things cooling off. Without seeing Hyunjin for seventy-two hours, you weren’t expecting much to change, you expected more of the same when you showed up here in Minho’s blue Mark Gonzales hoodie that he took notice of in an instant. Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be, Hyunjin wallowing knee deep in assholery, until he got you in bed, and then it was like a new and improved version of your used-to-be everyday life.

“Who have you talked to?” You ask quietly, breaking the stark silence in the room. You hear Hyunjin pause. Taking your hands away from your eyes you sit up on your elbows to find him looking toward you with only his sweatpants on. Between his fingers he holds his t-shirt, toying with the neckline as he bites onto his bottom lip.

“Nobody,” He says.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes, “Bullshit, you all gossip like teenagers.”

“Worried I’ll tell them all about this?” He smirks, pulling the white shirt over his head, his muscles flexing with the movement, “Don’t want your boyfriend to know?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You say, keeping your eyes steady on Hyunjin as he comes back to the edge of the bed.

Knees resting against the side of the mattress, he leans over top of you, his smirk growing, and says, “Still want to tell me you don’t have a type?”

Sighing, you shake your head. Hyunjin laughs, then brushes his nose against yours.

“I missed you,” He whispers sensually, reveling in the shared air for only a moment, then pushes off the bed with his hands to collect an article of your clothing off his floor. Watching him bend over, he takes a peek at you from between his knees and chuckles. Curse the flexible bastard.

“This means nothing,” You force out of your throat, eyes glued on his smug expression as he twirls a lacy thong on one of his fingers. Waltzing back over to you, he gestures to what he’s playing with, raising a single brow.

“Sure it doesn’t,” He mutters in confidence, sliding the thin piece of underwear around your ankles to up around your hips, leaning back over your body as he does. Slipping a hand in between your thighs, he taps your clothed center and presses the tiniest kiss to your lips.

“Take my mess back home to your housewife,” His tone is so soft it’s near a whisper, one that sends a chill down your spine, “He seems to love sloppy seconds.”

Narrowing your eyes, you frown, “How did you know?” You ask at the same decibel.

“Know what?” He questions.

Swallowing hard, you whisper, “The sounds, Hyunjin. How did you know?”

For half a second his lips pull into a devious smirk, but a joyful knock at the front door swiftly pulls the attention off of you. Whipping his head toward the bedroom door that was open a crack, Hyunjin peers down to you momentarily before shouting, “It’s open!” Then leaves you where you lay bare naked, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

Frowning, you wait a moment before standing on your feet, knowing if you got up right now you’d leak everything Hyunjin gave to you into the thong he slipped around your hips. The thong that wasn’t put on purposely… Which is what you’ll keep telling yourself.

A gentle, deep voice carries down the hall and into the bedroom, one that’s followed by a boisterous laugh that on any other day would make you giggle. Felix. Another face you’d been avoiding these three peaceful days.

Hyunjin truly was a man incapable of shame, because you heard the two of them move from the door to the living room with him knowing you were naked in his bed. As if he didn’t just suck the life out of you twice, you can hear them laughing together, sharing quiet mumbles over who knows what.

Your stomach churned again over the thought of having to walk out of here with Felix as a witness. With how long the two boys have been messing around, a small part of you, the tiniest part, felt bad for Felix. The little sunspot didn’t deserve to be fucked over, though maybe doing a walk-of-shame would help him out in running far away from the energy vampire lurking around this apartment.

The feeling refuses to lessen as your thoughts shift over to Minho, having to return home to him from ‘grabbing a couple things’ from Hyunjin’s. You weren’t dating, but you were sure your situation doesn’t include sleeping with other people, let alone your ex-friends-with-benefits-turned-lover.

Heaving a sigh, you slide forward on the comforter and jump off the edge, keeping your legs pressed together as you gather your clothes from the floor. Slipping into your leggings, you toss Minho’s blue hoodie over your torso and pull the hood up, pushing your disheveled hair beneath the soft fabric.

Stepping into your shoes, you take yourself over to the bedroom door quietly, trying to keep your presence under wraps. Glancing around Hyunjin’s space, his cozy room with posters on the walls, and drawers with clothes hanging out of them, and a salt lamp he bought a couple months ago because you were going through a bought of anxiety, and a strip of pictures the two of you took in an amusement park photo booth during a trip with your friends taped to his bedpost… A lump starts to form in your throat, one that makes tears prick your eyes.

Staring at the sequence of three photos that were in black and white, you’re taken back to that day, reminded of how happy you once were.

In the first one you’re both holding up a peace sign, winking with one eye. The second photo, the two of you are pulling funny faces, Hyunjin’s eyes were wide and he crossed them, sticking out the tip of his tongue while you pursed your lips together in an angry pout. When you glance to the third, the sorrow deepens. The third photo is the worst.

You were laughing, with your eyes screwed shut, the corners crinkling, and you can remember finding Hyunjin’s silly face incredibly endearing, inciting the crazed giggles that had made your stomach hurt. Leaning toward him, Hyunjin was looking over at you, and his gaze read like immense infatuation. His light smile over your giggles showed not only how proud he felt for making you laugh, but how in love with you he was.

There were a couple cute kisses shared after the photos were taken, that moment and the entire day swallowing you in simple happiness.

When the relationship was good, it was unbeatable. Near perfection with how the two of you could be total best friends, but, when the good turned bad, it was repulsive. Like a switch flipping in mere seconds, you and Hyunjin could become each other's demise.

Not even a week after the photo strip was taken, Hyunjin slept with Jennie, thus beginning the horrors that turned you two into what you are today.

Taking a shaky deep breath, you wipe a sneaky tear from your cheek and decide to step out of the room. It was going to have to happen at some point, may as well rip off the bandaid and get it over with.

Trekking down the hall, you appear in the living room where you catch Felix’s eye in an instant. Unsuspecting, big, blue contact wearing eyes take you in, while his huge smile fades to something small. The blonde boy is sitting on the couch on his knees, facing Hyunjin with both hands latched onto one of his.

Stopping your hurried self, you focus only on Felix, your eyes just as soft as his in these short seconds you share with one another.

Checking you out, head to toe, he raises a brow slightly and says, “Hi.”

His hesitance was contagious.

After a gulp, you nod, avoid his eyes and mutter, “Hey.”

“See you later,” Hyunjin cuts in quick, giving you a smug smirk. He had an arm around the back of the couch, the one Felix wasn’t clinging onto.

“You’re coming to Haven?” Felix asks you, his pure gaze stuck where you stood. Shrugging, you clear your throat to try to ease the awkward tension.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” You mumble.

“We haven’t seen you in forever,” Felix says, twisting his body so he was facing you, dropping Hyunjin’s hand.

“It’s been… three days,” You keep your tone low, shrugging again. Felix pouts, his bottom lip pleading with you.

In the space between you, you can see that the flames of the friendship you shared with Felix had dwindled, becoming just glowing embers over the last two weeks. Though it hurt like hell to know the sweet boy was the breaking point of what you shared with Hyunjin, you cannot find it in your heart to hold him responsible.

For all you know, Hyunjin may have filled his head with lies, and poor pushover Felix doesn’t see anything wrong… With any of this.

“I’ll think about it,” You say, unable to say no to his sweet face, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Felix smiles, and the pout is quickly wiped away making you sigh. Nodding toward him once, you shove a hand in the pocket of Minho’s hoodie and head toward the front door, gripping onto the handle of the suitcase that you’d forgotten about.

“Oh,” Hyunjin speaks up, peeking over the back of the couch. Felix’s eyes follow as well, you find them peering at you when you look their way.

Hyunjin smirks again, and says slyly, “Make sure everything makes it home safely. Don’t need anything… slipping out.”

Groaning in disgust, you yank open his front door and push the suitcase over the threshold without looking back at the boy who started laughing at himself.

“Is her bag broken?” You hear Felix say as the door swings shut behind you.

Stepping into Minho’s, you find him leaning against the counters of his small kitchen just inside the back door that acted as the front. Cupping the bottom of a coffee mug with the other arm crossed, he’s still dressed in what he had slept in, a grey t-shirt and old, black shorts he used to wear to dance practices. Smiling, he’s focused on his best friend sitting at the kitchen table.

Rambling on about what Jeongin had done at Haven last night, you caught on to the topic quick, Han had his feet propped up on a chair across from his, speaking with his hands and expressive brows. The sound of you arriving catches their attention, making Han whip around with wide eyes, Minho with the gentle smile he was giving the boy a couple feet away from him.

“Hi,” Minho says, his eyes flickering down to his hoodie you donned.

Slapping a hand on the table, Han sighs dramatically, “What is that?“ He asks, staring at the suitcase you pushed inside. Turning to peek at Minho, who gives him a heavy side eye from behind the mug he now held to his lips, Han starts to smile, but represses it.

“Just some of my stuff,” You say quietly, glancing between the two of them, lingering on Minho a bit longer.

His eyes are sharp, they always are, like two tiny daggers with the inability to ever hurt you, and they’re attempting to pierce your soul at the moment. At least, it felt like they were. Minho intimidated others easily, never you, however with guilt festering in your gut it felt like his gaze knew something you did too.

“What’s wrong?” He questions.

Shrugging in response, you say, “Nothing.”

Minho frowns something silly and drops his brows, the first time his smile has broken since you walked in the door. Pushing off the counter with his backside, he slides the mug onto the table in front of Han and pads over to you with outstretched arms.

Hugging you around the shoulders, Minho pulls you into his chest and buries his face into your hair. Placing a kiss to the top of your head, he takes a deep breath- one that triggers his entire body to tense up in your arms.

“Was he there when you went?” Han asks, and Minho twists his head so he speaks into your ear. In a tone that sends your heart plummeting through the tiled floor of the kitchen, he mutters three words to your dismay.

“He was there.”

“Oh, shit,” Han mumbles. You hear his feet drop to the floor before he pushes the chair out from under him, standing up in a hurry. “See you guys later?” He asks as he brushes by the two of you. Minho pulls his chin back to look down at you.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” He says to Han, then glances at him, “I’ll call you.”

Without a goodbye, Han is out the door in an instant, leaving you vulnerable in Minho’s hold. His eyes linger on the door for a moment after it shuts, then after a breath he looks at you. Pressing his lips together, thinning them out so tight they lose their pink color, he nods.

Everything about his expression and the way he carried himself made you want to lose it. You didn’t want to hurt Minho, and after everything that had already gone down this morning, the feeling of shame mixed with the anger you felt for yourself had your eyes tearing in seconds.

“No, no,” Minho soothes, dragging a hand through your hair, “Don’t cry.”

“How can I not?” You sob with a sniffle, pressing your forehead into his chest. Cradling the back of your head, Minho pouts. “I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t know how it… I just…”

“It’s okay,” Minho whispers, “I understand.”

Picking your head up for him to see your tear stained cheeks, you glare at him and say, “You understand?” Scoffing straight after. He simply nods, twisting his lips into a small smile. Furrowing your brows, he chuckles realizing he’d need to explain himself.

“You were involved with him for a year,” He says gently, avoiding any condescension in his tone, “And it wasn’t an easy one. Hyunjin put you through hell, he messed with your head. If I was going to see an ex days after we broke up, depending on how it ended, I’d probably end up in their bed too.” Your eyes point down to his neck, the smooth, honey skin littered with small, faded love bites.

“Also,” He begins again, “We’re just… here. You and I are just coexisting in the same space as two adults who enjoy the same sport.” His words make you smile, something small.

“I’m not your boyfriend,” He says, sliding his hands around the back of your neck and up into your hair, “You’re not my girlfriend. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

“But I told you I-”

“I know,” He shushes you by giving your cheeks a squish with his palms, “I love you too, I always have.”

“And this doesn’t hurt you?” You whisper. Pondering his thoughts, Minho picks his words carefully, not wanting to cause more damage than has already been done.

Swallowing hard, he blinks a couple times and slightly shifts his head to give you an answer, one that encourages your teary eyes to go on.

“You aren’t mine,” Minho says, composing his being, though your tears threaten to wreck him, “I can’t be upset with you over this. Can I hurt? Hell yes, you slept with your ex-boyfriend after telling me you were done with him, and… I kind of trusted that you were serious.” You part your lips to speak, but Minho beats you to it.

“But, you know what?” He asks, and you tilt your head curiously, “You came back to me,” He gives you a soft smile.

“I don’t want to leave you again,” You mumble. Minho shakes his head, slipping a hand beneath your chin to hold you there.

“Then don’t,” He whispers, narrowing his eyes. Closing the gap between you, he presses a slow, gentle kiss to your lips before he asks, “Did he make you finish?” Pulling away from him with widened eyes, you make him chuckle, a hint of a devious smile appearing on his face.

“Seriously!?” You sigh, heavily. Tugging you back into him, he kisses you again and grins.

“Yeah, seriously,” He says. Dumbfounded, staring at him in shock, you stutter and give him the answer he wants. Twice. Flashing you an unreadable look, Minho licks his lips. Leaning toward you, he touches his forehead to yours, gazing down at his hoodie you wore.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks at a decibel so low he quieter than a whisper. His eyes flicker back to yours, curiosity burning within them, mixed with a hint of lust.

“Minho, what-”

“Answer the question,” He grits his teeth, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

“I- I- I guess?” You stammer, “But, it was meaningless. Totally, completely, meaningless. Nothing like we have, what we have is incomparable to anything.”

“Damn right,” He smirks, giving you another kiss, this one longer than all the others. Holding you tighter, he pushes his body against yours, brushing his hips into yours. From beneath the old, black dance shorts you can feel his half hardened length pressing into your thigh.

Pulling your lips away for half a second you manage to gasp and say, “Are you getting off on this?” With a giggle before intertwining your tongue with his. You feel him smile.

“Maybe,” He mutters somewhere within the shared, flustered air, “Do you not like that?” Swiping the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip, you tilt your head back and look at him.

“I didn’t take you as the type, that’s all,” You say. Minho’s gaze eats you alive. The devil is alight in his eyes, and you already know where this is about to go.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” He smirks, “Did he cum inside you?” You gasp aloud, falling into a fit of embarrassed giggles, “I’m dead fucking serious,” Minho can’t help but smile with your laughter, “Two times?”

Holding a hand over his cheek, you nod, “Two times.”

“Fuck,” He groans, dipping his chin to press messy kisses to your neck, “Bet you took it all like the good girl you are,” He grumbles against your skin. Eyes falling closed, you slip into the pleasure from his sensual touch and hum, giving him some sort of an answer. As his hand around your shoulder retreats, sliding down your side to slip underneath the hem of the hoodie, his soft fingers brush against your skin, sending a chill down your spine.

Over these past three days he’s touched you this way, but with every greedy grope it feels like the first time.

Lifting his head, he kisses your lips quick, his eyes half lidded in need.

“Minho?” You mumble, feeling like your grip around him was weak. The day hasn’t even made it past noon and you were at your limit, which embarrassed you more than you cared to admit. Minho, clinging to you ravenously, clearly wanted to, and needed to fuck.

“What’s ‘a matter?” He breathes, getting his lips back to work on your neck. A whine escapes you as his teeth nip at your skin.

“I can’t… I can’t,” You whisper. Minho pulls away from you carefully. “I want to… but, I can’t… I feel too… too dirty.” Relaxing his touch, he caresses your side and nods.

“It’s okay,” He reassures you, kissing your cheek, “You want to shower?” He asks. Your eyes widen with relief, making him laugh.

“Will you come with me?” You ask with a pout. Minho takes the hand from your chin and messes with your pursed lips, smiling.

“Of course I will,” He says, “Let me help you,” He raises his eyebrows, “I’ll take care of you.”

Following Minho through the house and into the bathroom, he closes the door behind you and turns on the shower, shifting the knob to almost hit the hottest point, knowing you loved a good shower in Mordor. Kissing you once, he motions for you to pick up your arms, and as soon as they’re in the air he’s slipping his hoodie off of you.

“This is my favorite,” He says, tossing it on top of the sink.

Smiling, you kiss the tip of his nose, “I know.”

“Come on,” He gestures to your leggings as his cheeks blush, “Get ‘em off.”

His hands slide around the waistband, fingers tucking in the edges. Holding your hands over his, you hesitate, remembering what you were wearing underneath, and who put it back on you after it was thrown to the floor. Minho, with his eyes pointed down, glances up to you curiously.

“You want to do it?” He asks, taking his hands away from your body. Watching you shake your head, he slowly places them back around your hips and attempts to slide you out of the skin tight bottoms.

A quick laugh escapes him when you won’t allow him to, “My love, you can’t shower with these on, what’s the matter?”

“I’m…” You pause, clamming up under pressure. Moments like this, where you turned shy, where you were too frightened to explain yourself, takes you straight back to your childhood. You were never, ever able to express yourself the right way, there was always a fear of shame, or that the person you were speaking with would shame you themselves. Today it seemed like you went searching for that feeling, leaving the inner part of your heart cold, and empty.

Minho waits patiently with a calm gaze, letting your inner turmoil work itself out. He could only say so much to reassure you, to let you know that everything was going to be alright. The rest was up to you, to believe him, understand him and ultimately forgive yourself for being a human.

Unfortunately, to you it felt immensely deeper… You felt like Hyunjin. And that thought alone was nauseating.

“I can step out if you want me to,” Minho offers. The second the words leave his lips you’re snatching his hands, giving them a squeeze.

“No,” You say fast, making him laugh.

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I promise, it’s okay,” His tone is endearing, speaking to you in a way that heals a tiny part of you every single day, “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“How can I not,” You whisper, sharpening your eyes, “I hurt somebody I love. I turned into the person that I hate, the person that did this to me for months. Why do I deserve to be treated with care when I think he should go through, like, all seven layers of hell, or something!” Raising your voice, you start to talk with your hands, letting Minho’s go.

“All seven layers, yeah, I agree,” Minho nods, letting you go off.

“I don’t care what kind of… kink you have about this, I fucked up, and you’re being too nice to me,” Taking a step backward, you shake your head a few times and stare down at the floor.

Minho waits to see if you have anything more to say before he holds out a hand for you to take. Glancing at it, you look up at him, then focus back on his fingers. Lifting one of yours, you wrap your fingers around one of his. Laughing to himself, Minho curls the finger you grabbed, using his strength to pull you back toward him.

Almost tripping over the rug beneath the two of you, you succumb to his gesture and end up in his arms, wrapping yours around his back. Minho rocks you side to side for a bit, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Nothing hurts me more than seeing you hurt,” He says, “It’s incomparable to anything, there’s nothing worse,” Lifting your chin, you watch him as he speaks, “For a year I endured it, that type of pain, knowing that I loved this girl so, so fucking much… And she fell for the asshole of the group,” His dark eyes scatter about the room, ending up on yours.

“I was supposed to be the one to catch you,” His voice drops, “You and I, we’ve always been connected in some way, looking out for one another through life, but, when you and… him, started to do your thing, I knew I’d lost you.”

“I’m right here,” You whisper. Minho gives you a small smile, and kisses you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“I know,” He bobs his head, “These last few days have felt like a fever dream, I have to keep checking to make sure Han didn’t accidentally drug me again.”

“What?!” You shriek with a grin, jutting your head backward off of his chest.

“Nothing,” Minho brushes past the incident as if it were an everyday occurance, ushering you back onto his chest with his hand on the back of your head, “But, I’m glad I made you smile,” He chuckles, “Now I want you to tell me what to do, okay?”

Taking a breath you respond tentatively, “Okay.”

“Do you want me to leave-”

“No-”

“That’s been established,” Minho cuts you off, smiling, finishing his following words quickly, “I could go out in the hall while you get ready to shower, then I can come back in. Or, I can help you do it, and you can find out for yourself that nothing you could do would make me hate you.”

Nibbling your bottom lip, you take a deep breath, releasing it shakily, “I really want you to help me, but I just feel embarrassed.”

“Is that all?” Minho asks kindly, and you nod, “Thank you for telling me,” He whispers, “I hope you know that I am the last person that would think anything is TMI, especially when it comes to you. After living with you for a couple days I’ve figured some out on my own.”

Tilting back again, you gasp, “Hope you know I’ve figured some of yours out on my own, too.” Minho smiles wide, laughing devilishly with a scrunched up nose.

Squeezing you tight, he rests his forehead on yours and says, “I want them all, I want all of the TMI’s, tell me every single one.”

“Patience, young padawan,” You joke, sliding your hands up to cup his cheeks, “All in due time, all in due time.” Minho’s smile makes his cheeks squish in your hands.

“Does that mean you’re gonna stay with me?” He questions, already feeling like he knew the answer.

“‘Course it does,” You say. Minho tosses his head back with a thunderous cheer.

“Oh, yes,” He exhales, leaning in to give you a kiss.

While your lips are at work, Minho’s hands slide down around your waist, where he hooks his thumbs into your leggings and pulls them down swiftly, parting from lips momentarily. He pays no mind to whatever you thought would make him upset, and instead stands back up to lock his lips with yours once more.

Reaching behind him, you grip the neck of his t-shirt and pull it off of him, throwing it on the floor. Letting your hands slide down his chest, you take your time to show some extra love to his midriff, knowing a TMI of his, he was insecure about the scar he was given years ago. You can feel him smile against your lips.

Tucking your fingers into his shorts, you give them a tug and they pool around his ankles. Unable to help yourself when his thighs were exposed to you, your hands wander lower to give them a generous squeeze.

“Hey,” Minho mumbles between kisses, “If you don’t want to have sex, I need you to stop touching me like that, please.”

“Right,” You sigh, your hands recoiling back to his shoulders, “I’m sorry.”

“Mm,” He hums, pulling away, “Don’t apologize, we respect boundaries here, it’s nothing to be sorry for. I respect yours, you respect mine. We figure them out by communicating,” Your lips were parted in slight shock as you stared up at him, “What? Too much?”

“Uh,” You stammer, “No, not at all, I just… I’ve never been with someone that has…”

“Respected you?” He raises an eyebrow. Though it seemed his response was a jerky one, it was your truth, and it was what you were going to say. You could add that you’ve never been with a partner that wanted to communicate as much as Minho, and while it appeared that it could be a mood killer, it made everything all the more exciting and stimulating.

“Yeah,” You sigh.

Minho smirks, “Is this you implying you want to be with me?”

“Has that not been clear enough?!” You giggle. Minho’s smirk grows into a grin.

“Oh, it has,” He teases, “I just need the words, that’s all. But, you lead the way, babe.”

The air is sticky, warm, and smells of hours old, muddy shoe stepped in beer. When the heavy door was pushed open and you were met with the warm, polluted glow of the neon lights, it smacked you directly in the face. After not making an appearance here for a few nights you weren’t so used to the stench you all were conditioned to ignore.

Haven was packed wall to wall tonight, a sight that riddled your body with nerves, because if the bar was buzzing that meant every single one of your friends was there to enjoy it.

Nearly impossible to keep a secret from any of the eight of them, you were wondering if anything had been spoken of about your whereabouts this morning. You hoped for Minho’s sake, and your own, that Hyunjin had kept his mouth shut. There wasn’t a need to live through it again, you and Minho had it under control, it was talked about. Then again, when it came down to it, Minho was the only one you needed to be okay with. Hyunjin was of no concern to you, the morning had meant nothing, and you intend to stick by that.

Lacing your fingers around Minho’s, he pulls you in front of him, guiding you through the crowd of plastered young adults instead of dragging you along behind him. He maneuvers one of your shoulders and your hand, pointing you in the direction of the corner where the nine of you typically holed up.

“Wait,” You stop abruptly, Minho bumping into your back. He glances around you, you’ve stopped directly on the dance floor.

“What?” He asks, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“What if he’s here?” You say with remorse, taking into consideration this healthy communicator thing with Minho. You can feel him shrug his shoulders, dragging a thumb over the back of your hand.

“He’s allowed to be here, this is where they all collect,” He answers honestly, and your heart sinks a bit, “It doesn’t mean he’s allowed to harass you, though. I won’t let that happen. You’re going to stay as far away from him as possible.” The corners of your lips prick up when you hear the subtle jealousy in his tone. Not that you wanted Minho to be jealous, but hearing him shift into an overprotective energy was invigorating.

“He and Felix are probably off catching a public indecency charge somewhere anyway,” Giving your hand a squeeze, Minho pushes your hips with his own in hopes that you’d continue on to find your friends, “Han and Chan miss you, keep it moving.”

Apart from the dread of running into a couple you don’t want to see, you were happy you were here tonight. Haven was always a place of comfort to you, before the downfall of the friend group, and hearing that Han and Chan were in attendance made you smile.

“Seungmin and Jeongin?” You ask, tilting your head back to catch a look at Minho. He nods happily. “Thank god,” You groan, “I haven’t seen them in weeks.”

It’s been ages since all of you were under the same roof at the same time in the same night. The variety shuffles every night you’re here, you’re almost never with the same group twice. No wonder information seemed to travel fast.

“SHUT-the-FUCK-UP!” Changbin’s voice carries throughout the bar once he spots you and Minho elbowing your way through the crowd.

You appear in the clearing first with a smile, five faces alight with joy smiling back at you. Tugging on Minho’s hand, he pops up beside you, and three of those five smiles turn to shock.

“You weren’t kidding?” Seungmin asks Han with wide eyes. The boy you found lounging at the kitchen table this morning sat back in his chair, opening his hands in the air, gesturing toward you and Minho, who had pressed himself against your back.

“Boys, I wasn’t kidding,” Han grins.

Changbin rests his elbows on the table in front of him, his biceps tightening in the sleeves of his t-shirt. His naturally curly black hair grew out above his eyebrows, giving him a badass look about him.

Shaking his head, he laughs, “Never thought I’d see the fucking day, Minho.”

“Shut up,” The boy behind you snickers.

Chan takes a swig of his drink, tapping Changbin on the shoulder.

“He’s right,” The eldest agrees once the beer is swallowed, “For months we’ve had to put up with the incessant pining…”

“And whining!” Changbin adds jauntily.

As the boys continue on, you find yourself giggling along with them while Minho beckons them to stop wearing a smile.

“How much longer is she going to put up with him?!” Changbin squeezes his eyes shut, adding drama to the scene he’s creating. Han can’t help but laugh as well, adding in a few of his own ad libs.

“She wants to visit Europe, I’d take her to Europe!”

Your smile turns into curiosity.

Chan shakes his head and reaches across the table toward Han, “Wait, wait… How about the time this past summer when he didn’t want to go on any of those rides with us? What’d Min call him?”

Jeongin slaps the table and cackles, “A fucking wimp-ass cry baby.”

Dropping your jaw you glance over your shoulder. Minho, his lips thinned so tight the color was non-existent, nodded and glared at the wall.

“You really don’t like him,” You say quietly. He flickers his dark eyes to you.

“Never have,” He whispers.

The chatter from the boys went on in the background, you and Minho sharing a moment, a knowing moment as you gazed at one another.

“You’d take me to Europe?” You ask, smizing. The corner of his lips perk up.

“In a heartbeat,” He sighs.

At the table Seungmin signals for your attention, Minho’s ears pricking up as well. Flashing you a small, braceless smile, Seungmin narrows his eyes.

“I never got the full story, what happened a few nights ago?” He asks suspiciously, toying with the condensation droplets on his glass.

A gentle, unanimous groan sounds around the table, though Jeongin listens attentively, hoping to catch the details he was missing as well.

Getting a good look at them all, their curious eyes, and Han’s worried brows, you spin around in Minho’s grasp and try to push on his chest to maneuver him away.

“I can’t… I can’t,” You whisper. The boys whisper behind you, Minho glancing up to them a few times. He rubs your back and nods his head, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

Gesturing to Han, he signals his best friend to tell them the story, then ushers you away toward the bar, “We’re gonna grab some drinks,” He says, entrusting Han to tell the story right without sharing too much.

At the bar Minho places you upon an old stool, the metal creaking beneath the wood as you make yourself comfortable. Minho stands off to the left of you, placing a hand on the bar and the other around your waist.

“What are you drinking?” He asks you, coming close to your ear, laying his cheek over top of your hair.

Checking out the various bottles of half full options of liquor, you decide on a simple vodka soda, hoping to only have one and stay alert for the rest of the evening. All you needed was one glass to calm the anxiety, the Hyunjin showing up out of nowhere anxiety.

Acquiring two glasses, Minho tosses the bartender a twenty and slides your drink in front of you.

Lifting his as if to salute, he takes a swig and places it back on the bar with a knock. Following suit, you take a huge gulp, shake away the sting in your throat and let out a dramatic, “Ah!”

“Feels a little strange to be here,” Minho begins, leaning on the bar with his elbow, scouring his surroundings.

“Does it?” You ask. He nods.

“I dunno, I’ve been feeling like I’ve grown out of this, if that makes any sense.”

Taking another lengthy sip from your drink, your eyes go wide as you agree with him, “I know what you mean.”

“Right?” Minho smirks happily at you, “We’re only here right now because…”

“Han,” You giggle.

Sighing dramatically, blowing a raspberry from his lips, Minho mumbles, “Han.”

“How about,” You lean closer to him, nearly touching noses, “We stay for, like, another hour, catch up with the guys, then sneak away,” Sliding one of your hands down his side, you caress his thigh and give it a gentle squeeze, “Pick back up where we left off?”

Painting a lazy smile onto his face, hanging onto the end of every word, Minho nods, then closes the gap to give you a kiss.

“Only if you’re feeling better,” His voice is hushed between the shared air. Running your fingers along the seam of his jeans you smile. Healthy communication.

“I am feeling better,” You whisper, planting a heavy kiss on his lips.

You want to get lost, in Minho that is, but a happy-go-lucky voice calls out your name from a few feet behind you that sends your heart plummeting through the sticky concrete floor.

Whipping your head around, bumping Minho’s nose with your ear, you find Felix coming toward you. Alone. The blonde scurries to your side quickly, leaning against both of his arms on the edge of the bar.

Facing forward, you look over at the smiley boy and take a deep breath. He seems excited to see you, and not the least bit surprised.

“Hey guys,” He releases a breath and gives Minho a wave, “So, who was it?” He nudges you with his elbow, “Was it me? I got you to come right?”

“Excuse me?” Minho raises a brow.

Placing a hand to his shoulder, you slightly shake your head, still overcome by shock. “I think, I mean… You know the guys- I, uh… Yeah, it was you.”

Felix tosses his head backward with a cackle, “Knew it. I missed this, yanno, everyone here together. We used to have so much fun.”

“Till you fucked it up,” Minho mutters, glaring out toward the crowded dance floor. Kicking his shin with your ankle, you take another deep breath and try to smile.

If Felix was here, his master wasn’t too far behind.

“Uh, yeah, everyones here, right?” You ask, wondering if he’d give you details, which you’d turn into pointers on how to avoid Hyunjin.

Smiling proud, Felix nods, gesturing to the group over his shoulder, “They’re all over there.”

“I’m a little confused,” Minho says, sending a chilling glare across the bar to Felix who’s smile decreases drastically, “Why are you over here if everyone else is over there?” Standing straight up Felix gulps, darting his eyes between the two of you. He shrugs twice, then places a hand on his hip.

“I said this morning that I hoped she was coming here tonight, because, uh, we haven’t seen each other in a few days,” He says.

Minho rolls his eyes and smirks, “You haven’t seen her in days ‘cause you’ve been attached to Hyunjin’s hip.” He glances at you momentarily. You didn’t tell him you had run into Felix.

The blonde boy stammers a few times before saying, “Right,” He laughs awkwardly looking over at you, “It’s great you’re here, sorry to bother you.” He attempts to smile, but the pressure of Minho’s glare sends him scurrying away to the others.

Still turned to the right, you watch Felix hurry off, afraid to face Minho. It wasn’t that you were scared he was going to be angry you had seen Felix, it was the fact that someone else had seen you at Hyunjins. Someone else other than the three of you knew what had happened. And with everyone under one roof tonight, it was a matter of time before it spread like wildfire.

“Didn’t expect that one to be thrown into this mix,” Minho sighs, wrapping his hand around his glass. The arm around your back had slid up to your shoulders.

Twisting your body around on the stool, you face him completely and shrug sheepishly, “Me either, Minho,” You whisper, eyebrows turning inward, “I wasn’t keeping that a secret, I hope you know that.”

Shaking his head he gives you a reassuring smile, “I trust you, I know. He’s just… loose lipped that’s all.”

“And Han’s not?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Not with me he isn’t,” Minho scoffs, tilting his head side to side teasingly.

“Let’s hope so,” You say, softening your gaze. Minho leans forward to kiss your cheek, resting there for a few seconds after his lips leave your skin. Breathing him in, you’re succumbed to peace for all of eight seconds.

Nobody wanted you to have a good night.

“Hey, Min!”

Cue heart falling deeper seven more stories, and stomach spiraling down beside it. Electricity shoots through your veins. The bad kind. Every muscle in your body tenses, just like Minho’s hand on your shoulder.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Minho spats.

“Don’t be stupid,” You manage to whisper, feeling frozen.

Minho scoffs once again, “Too late.”

Pulling himself away, Minho stands in front of you, facing the menace on his way over to the bar. Dressed in dark colors Hyunjin has his hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders rolled and chin cocked back. His long black hair is pulled back with an elastic, his soft, delicate features on full display beneath the strand of hair that falls over his forehead.

“You know damn well you need to walk away,” Minho barks, clenching his jaw. Hyunjin pauses, six feet away from you, grinning.

“No, I can’t do that,” He sings, rocking on his feet, “You disrespected somebody I love.”

Minho bares his teeth, “I could say the same.”

Laughing, like, actually laughing, Hyunjin takes a look at you peeking at him around Minho’s back, “That was no disrespect, she asked for that.”

“Liar!” You shout, jumping onto your feet. A fire is ignited in your chest. Hyunjin pouts.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” He says solemnly sarcastically, sending a look to Minho, “Did you like my gift I left for you?”

You thought Minho was going to blow his top. Taking a step forward with his fists clenched, you grab onto his arm to keep him back. Hyunjin laughs again.

The walls of the bar feel like they’re closing in around you, like there’s no way to escape, and Hyunjin will stand here taunting you forever. You knew he was lying, even Minho knew he was lying, but that didn’t erase his presence. His manipulative, degrading, charismatic presence that was detrimental to everybody around him.

Hyunjin glances at your hands gripping Minho’s muscle, then looks to your eyes, turning his chin downward, “You got to be careful who you trust, baby,” The name sends a bullet through your heart, “You wonder why I knew what I knew?” Hyunjin shifts his glare to Minho.

Taking a breath, you furrow your brows and shake your head vicariously, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Yeah, what the hell are you talking about?” Minho repeats, nearly shaking in your grasp. You see him take a quick breath, swallowing hard.

“You’re kidding,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling with pleasure, “People talk, these people talk, the people over there?” He puts heavy emphasis at the end of his sentence like Minho had done with Felix, “You think because we’re done it means I’m not going to be friends with them anymore?”

“Walk away,” Minho warns.

“You think because you fucked up our relationship, it means I’m going to be the one to walk away?” Hyunjin was speaking directly to you, inching closer and closer, “You make me out to be a villain to all of our friends, do you know what you’ve done to me?”

All you can do is shake your head. Hyunjins eyes bore into yours with an anger you’ve never seen him express, it was terrifying.

“Hyunjin, leave,” Minho says louder, alarm in his tone.

“Shut up, Min,” Hyunjin whips his head, piercing him with his words, “For once in your life, shut up. If you knew how to do that I wouldn’t be so smart, would I?” Hyunjins smiles sadistically, shooting you a look.

“What?” You whisper, your body going cold.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s trying to get in your head,” Minho says to you, glancing at you quickly. His heart is inflicted with pain when he sees the look on your face.

“Not hers,” Hyunjin corrects, taking two steps closer, a foot away from Minho, “Yours.”

“I really, really need you to walk away,” Minho speaks through his teeth.

Hyunjin chuckles, “Why?” He narrows his eyes, “Afraid she’ll realize she misses the good dick and will come running back?” Pausing, Hyunjin purposely looks down at you, “Oh, wait… She already did.”

Minho isn’t quite sure how it happened, and neither are you. Within seconds the two boys are on the dance floor with Hyunjin literally on the floor. A crowd has formed around them, many of the bystanders egging them on, chanting nonsense at them.

Standing over him, seeing complete red, Minho’s fist was pulled in at his side, his other hand rubbing his knuckles, soothing the sting. Hyunjin, on his back, stared at the older boy in shock with a split lip, blood starting to trickle down his chin. He doesn’t stay down for long, and once he’s back on his feet he lunges for Minho who blocks both of his shots.

Tearing your eyes away from the fight, you search the crowd for any sign of your friends, praying that one of them would jump in to break the two apart. You didn’t want to be the one to do it, you weren’t sure if you could even try.

Out of the six that remained, Felix was the first one to show up, pushing people aside with a purpose.

“Hyunjin!” He shouts, rounding the tussle, “Stop! What the hell!”

You shake your head, the only thing you seem to be able to do today. He wasn’t going to be able to get through to him like that, Hyunjin could become blind with rage, and though Minho was all the more stronger than him, you’d lie if you said you weren’t nervous.

“Chan,” You whisper, and your feet send you rushing around the crowd, “Chan!” You shout, catching the eldest’s attention as he caught on to the incident at hand.

“What the fuck is going on?” His brows are furrowed beyond belief, raising himself to his tiptoes to look over the rows of heads around his friends. Grabbing onto one of his biceps you sigh heavily, your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. “Fuck,” He groans, sharing a look with you, “I really didn’t want this to happen.”

It was ironic really, the fight taking place in the building that brought you all together.

Funny that it would be the spot to tear you all apart.

By the time Chan was over at Minho’s side Hyunjin had him in a headlock, but it didn’t hold him for too long, Minho spun out of it and elbowed Hyunjin in the side. The sound that left him worried you. He was a jerk, but you didn’t like to see him hurt.

Felix was popping in and out of the circle, trying his best to latch onto Hyunjin in some way that would make him stop, or pull him away. He was still shouting at the two, the frustration excruciatingly clear in his voice.

Seeing that Felix had inserted himself in, Chan followed along, swinging an arm around Minho’s chest, pressing his chest to his back. “Get out of this, bro,” The Aussie says, “This isn’t you, this is Hyunjin though. Let it go.”

“Can’t let it go, he’s a fucking douchebag!” Minho shouts, half at Hyunjin who shoots him a maniacal grin, just asking for more. Pushing Chan away with his hips at full force, even Chan is shocked by Minho’s power.

For another few minutes the boys go at it, Chan and Felix both attempting to put an end to the mess. Seungmin and Changbin put themselves up front as well, hoping some verbal encouragement would get them to calm down.

It wasn’t until Hyunjin knocked Minho clear across the jaw that you had to look away, curling your hands into fists over your eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, you walk backwards unsure of where you were headed.

You back up straight into somebody’s arms, arms that wrap around your shoulders and hold you gently. Turning back you’re greeted with a warm smile from Han. The immediate safety you feel is overwhelming, making tears prick at your eyes. Spinning around all the way, you loop your arms under his and bury your face into his chest.

“I know,” Han sighs, rubbing your back between your shoulder blades, “Surprised this didn’t happen sooner.”

Tilting your head back you roll your eyes and scoff, “Honestly? Thought this was what was going to happen a few days ago.”

The night Hyunjin spotted you and Minho tumbling out of his car all loose and wiggly like drunks, you expected it to go down. You thought for sure that Hyunjin was going to lose his shit on Minho, and once his mouth got going, vice versa. Instead, Hyunjin walked away. He didn’t drive you back home, but he walked away, leaving you alone until you arrived home that early morning.

From over your head Han watches Chan finally break Minho away from Hyunjin. Felix latches onto his boytoy quickly, pulling him backward and out of sight for the time being. Chan stumbles backward, locking Minho’s arms behind his back to keep him from charging forward again.

Han looks down at you and smiles, saying, “Let’s go outside,” knowing Chan was headed there with Minho next.

The air outside Haven felt twenty degrees cooler, the night air both refreshing and a shock. Han let you lead the way out, keeping watch for Hyunjin or Felix. It was a typical Minho thing to do, making you curious if he had commissioned Han as his second.

There’s not many people outside aside from the few smokers who accumulated along the walls. Most of the crowd had probably been drawn inside by the commotion, not many fights broke out at Haven.

Wandering close to the sidewalk, you fold your arms over your chest, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your shirt. Tilting your head backward, you look up at the night sky and take a long, deep breath, releasing it with a groan.

Han stayed close by, but gave you your space, crossing his own arms, keeping an eye on you as you tried to process the evening.

“You know,” You say, side eyeing him, “I really wish we didn’t come here.”

Han takes a breath and nods, “Understood,” He says, and continues on before you can look away, “But, if you didn’t, I think that tension would’ve never been taken care of.”

“Tension?” You question, and Han nods again, “The tension? Between Minho and Hyunjin?”

“They had to get it out, they had to confront it,” He shrugs, “Besides, Min’s hated that guy for ages, he’s been dying to knock out a tooth or two.”

Thinning your lips you send a glare his way while remembering what Hyunjin had said prior to the brawl.

“I don’t think there would be all this tension if you guys didn’t run your mouths like teenagers,” You grill, sharpening your eyes, “I’m starting to feel like I can’t trust any of you. There are things you don’t need to share, things other people don’t need to know.”

Han smirks, huffing a laugh, “We’re always going to talk, I’m sorry.”

Dropping your hands to your side, you turn away in defeat.

“But, if this has to do with Hyunjin, which I’m pretty sure it does… Whatever he did, whatever he said? It was definitely to use you,” Han opts for a softer tone, “If he found shit out from whoever, probably Changbin because he’s always with Felix, it was just so he could use you. He could’ve chosen not to do it, and I think you know that.”

Taking in what he’s said, you nod, folding your hands together behind your back. Focusing down at the grass growing in between the cracks in the concrete, you wander around in a small circle, marinating in the quiet for a moment.

Glancing up at Han, you utter a, “Sorry,” and kick a stone with your sneaker.

“You’re fine,” He smiles, “I get it.”

You scoff, “Seems everyone does except for me.”

Han seems ready to offer you some more support, but the door to Haven swings open with a vengeance, slamming into the wall with the loudest crash. Both of you stand straight up, turning toward it attentively.

With a hand clamped over his mouth, Minho has his eyes pointed down, hurrying out of the bar with Chan on his tail. They’re the only two to come outside.

“You’re leaving,” Chan says, seeming to finish up a conversation they had been having inside. Coming to a stop, Minho pulls his hand away, wiping his chin and shaking it at the ground. His perfect, porcelain skin is stained red.

“No shit I’m leaving,” He growls, examining his hands that were definitely going to be bruised tomorrow.

Chan would’ve said more if he didn’t spot you waiting on the sidewalk near Han. He presses his lips together in a simple smile of apology, then backs away to head back inside Haven. Minho hadn’t noticed you yet. Dropping his hands, his eyes go wide as he turns around to speak to his friend who had left him.

“No, wait, I have to get-”

“Me?” You offer, cutting him clean off.

Whipping himself around with eyes full of utmost sorrow, he clenches his jaw and exhales heavily through his nose.

The air is quiet for a little bit, letting you examine his appearance in peace. His hair was tousled, and his mouth was fucked. The t-shirt he put on for the evening was disheveled, while the strap of his boxers stuck out of the waist of his jeans on the side of his torso. His knuckles were red, cut up, and clearly painful while you watched his expression tense as he stretched his fingers out.

“Don’t do that,” You whisper, “Something might be broken.” He attempts to laugh, but it leaves him in the form of a breath.

“I was a dancer, nothing’s broken,” He says just as quiet. Exchanging a look with Han, he bobs his head and glances to the ground, “Thanks,” He mumbles, Han’s cue to leave.

Heading toward the door, Han nudges Minho’s shoulder and says, “I’m going to pretend to be mad at you for her sake, but, if I’m being honest, I’m happy for you, and hope you kicked his ass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Minho shakes his head, breaking into the smallest smile. Han turns to give you a wave, motions for you to call him after gesturing to his best friend, then leaves you and Minho alone.

“I said don't do anything stupid,” You say once the door to the bar is shut. Minho flickers his eyes to you, listening. “He deserves an ass kicking, yes, but from anybody but you, Minho.”

“I’m sorry,” He whispers. Stepping closer to him, you frown.

“You don’t have to be sorry, I get why you did it,” Your lips turn up into a smirk, “And as hot as it is, I don’t think I like the way jealousy looks on you.” Popping his brows, Minho wipes his chin and chuckles, checking to see how much he was still bleeding.

“Talk shit, get hit,” He says, shrugging.

“Were you? Talking shit?”

A sneaky grin appears on his face, “‘Bout Felix, yeah.”

“Min,” You exhale, walking over to him. His wounds were even harder to look at up close. “What about what you said? Us outgrowing this?” Lifting a hand, you smooth your thumb over his cheek and slightly pout your bottom lip. “My beautiful boy.”

Minho dips his head forward, laying his forehead on yours, fluttering his eyes shut. Running your fingers through his hair, you cup beneath his jaw and gently place a kiss to the tip of his nose. A smile escapes him.

“You still want to be my boyfriend after all of this?” You whisper.

Minho’s eyes shoot open, “Yes,” He says swiftly. Laughing together, you kiss his cheek and slide your arms around his back.

“Come on,” You say, “Let’s go home, clean you up, and… let me take care of you.”

Minho smiles, “Lead the way, babe.”

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

#skz

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

HAVEN. -> Lee Know x Female!Reader ( she/her pronouns )

summary: Hyunjin was never much of a boyfriend, making all of your friends wonder why you've stuck by him for so long. You know what they say though, love makes you crazy... Or, love makes you end up in your best friend backseat straddling his waist... Something like that... Right?

words: 10k

warnings: INFIDELITY themes all throughout, hyunlix, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking marijuana, smoking cigarettes, angry boyfriends ( if you can call it that ), brief zodiac sign talk lol, SEXUAL CONTENT, unprotected sex ( DONT DO THAT ), mature themes throughout every line of this mofo, p*rn w very long plot. If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

a/n: Hi, I dunno what this is. SKZ brainrot. This took entirely too long to write. I don't know if I like it, eek. Minho is a dreamboat. Enjoy!

“I’m just so, so tired,” Expels from your lips in a harsh whisper, your sigh that follows is as equally exasperated.

“Do you think I’m not?” Hyunjin’s tone packs a powerful voltage, enough to startle your bones. Maintaining eye contact with the boy's deep brown eyes, you furrow your brow.

“Hyunjin,” Raising your voice to a reasonable level, you place a hand on the kitchen table that stands between you and lean toward him. Using his full name, you make a mental note of how it affects him, the discomfort appearing in the slight scrunch of his button nose.

“You have not answered my question,” He sneers. With a dramatic groan you roll your head backward, staring at the ceiling for all of three seconds before focusing back on his grimace.

“We are breaking up right now,” You say with persistence, the crease in your forehead becoming somewhat permanent, “You seriously need this information?”

“Yes,” He snaps, then shifts into a softer energy, “I never thought you’d be the one to break my heart.” The kitchen goes quiet, the only sound heard is that of the ice machine in the freezer.

A moment passes with a stare-down, Hyunjin being the one to break it by shaking his head. A thin lock of his black hair drops over his right eye.

“I knew this… relationship was over a week ago,” He speaks with heavy intention, his words packing a punch, “I’m not oblivious,” His hair dances over his eyes some more as he shakes his head again, “But you know how I feel about you. I can’t believe you’d do something like this, you’re not even moved out yet.”

“Jennie,” You whisper, narrowing your eyes. Hyunjin’s expression falters.

“Lia,” You continue on, listing names of women he’s slept with since your situationship began, “Nayeon,” He seems to catch on, averting his eyes around the room as he scoffs, folding his arms across his chest.

“Even fucking Felix, Hyunjin, jesus!” Your laugh does nothing to mask the frustration weeping from your eyes.

“I never had sex with Nayeon-”

“It doesn’t matter!” You shout, your hands slamming flat on the table as your eyes widen, “Do you hear yourself?”

“I do, do you hear me?” He squinted his eyes, jutting his head to the side, “You fucked Minho,” He spoke slow, fueling the fury simmering within you, “Like a little slut, in the backseat of his car, in the parking lot of Haven, while the rest of us danced together inside.”

Swallowing hard, you refuse to shrivel beneath his interrogation.

“Hyunjin-”

“Two hours ago, I’ll add,” He smirks, finding it all a bit funny, “This happened… two hours ago. Does he know what happened yesterday morning? The moment we shared literally right here?” He presses a fingertip into the wood, narrowing his sharp, feline-like eyes.

“No,” You say, screwing your face in confusion, “Why does it matter?” Hyunjin takes his bottom lip between his teeth, sitting backward in the chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“I know some things,” He says, smug as he’s ever been.

“Enlighten me,” You whisper.

“Certainly,” Hyunjin huffs, holding up a hand for you to see. He taps his pointer finger, “Minho’s been after you for a while,” He taps his middle finger, “You’ve been after Minho equally as long,” He taps his ring finger, “You’ve got a type.”

“I do not have a type,” You say, glaring at his slender fingers that could have an obscene amount of control over you if Hyunjin really tried. Focused on your eyes, watching as they follow his hands that he places flat on the table, he chuckles.

“You have a type,” He reiterates, “Minho’s no better than me, he’s a bartender, if anything he’s worse.”

“Minho’s as clean as a saint!” You say, and Hyunjin chuckles, “He hasn’t been with anyone in ages, he’s a good guy.” Lowering his chin, Hyunjin glares at you through his lashes, speaking in a tone so low his voice has dropped a few octaves.

“Then, tell me why he fucked his best friends girlfriend in the backseat of his car last night?”

“Oh my…” You gasp, clasping your hands over your hair, grabbing it by the fistful, “I’m your girlfriend now!? You’ve never said that word, of course this would be when you’d use it.”

“You were my girlfriend when I fucked Jennie,” He shrugs. Your eyes go wild.

“That hurt,” You dig, “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!” He curls his lip, eyes dancing around your exhausted appearance.

Dragging your hands from your hair to over your eyes, you rub the sleep away gently and sigh, placing your hands on your knees. Avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze, you stare down at the table.

“I think… I think I should go,” You offer, flickering your eyes up to catch his face of sorrow, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He whispers.

“Like… like you’re sad,” Shaking your head, you speak from an empty heart, “You don’t hold an ounce of empathy for me when you go frolicking down the streets to pick up the next conventionally attractive person, and take them somewhere to hook up,” His expression doesn’t falter, “Some of them, we’re friends with, Hyunjin. So, yes. This relationship was over a week ago when you drove me to crazy town, to the point of no return,” His eyes are laser focused on yours, “You know, in a way, it’s like you pushed me right into his arms.”

Stepping inside dim lit, musty scented Haven was a bit like stepping straight into the Sahara, except the concrete floor was slick with spilt drinks, not dusty grains of sand. There were no windows either, just dinged up chestnut wooden planks for walls adorned with cheesy neon signs and posters of bands and other artists. Your personal favorite was the lit up pink flamingo with a bottle of tequila in its hand.

A year ago, when you and your group of friends started making regular appearances here, you compared it to Hyunjin and his stretch of a frame. The banter that followed the laughter was essentially what got the two of you together in the first place, sharing the right amount of sarcasm, sparking an attraction to want to slip beneath the sheets… or into a bathroom stall.

Sitting at the creaky bar now on top of a cushion on a stool that was flattened with age, you gripped an ice cold glass of Vodka Cran, twisting it on the napkin the bartender sat it down with. Staring at the flamingo holding the tequila, it was perched above a long mirror that ran across the entire wall behind the bar, one that was short vertically, giving you a beautiful view of the scowl you wore.

The pink and yellow glow of the neon lights used to be accompanied with giggles, with soft touches and sneaky kisses. Tonight, those acts of love had his arms wrapped around Felix where they moved in sync on the dance floor, three inches apart without shame.

Glancing over your shoulder you catch them cheek to cheek, rocking side to side. Felix’s hands seemed nervous, they were greedy, but tentative, his fingertips sliding up and down Hyunjin’s tight t-shirt clad torso. The younger boy's eyes were pointed down, listening with parted lips to whatever charm Hyunjin was spilling into his ear. A hex, a curse, an enchantment that would keep Felix at his beck and call for as long as he pleased.

The sight of their hips grinding, and their thighs slipping between the others knees used to be nauseating, however, it’s been occurring for two weeks, so it’s become tolerable.

At least it wasn’t a female.

Girls crawled out of the woodwork for Hyunjin, there was never a night where he wasn’t fighting one off of his hip. The boy could walk into a room, and in an instant have someone on their knees with just a look. Something about his aura, his lust fueled, mysterious facade of an attitude made them melt in his fingers like putty. Felix though, Felix was different.

The blonde haired boy taunted Hyunjin, insufferably oblivious to his flirting.

The two have been friends for a couple of years, coming together at about the same time as you had found them. There were nine of you total, a group that never hesitated to let life go, not taking it too seriously.

You all came with your quirks, your imperfections. You and Hyunjin were tied for ‘most self-destructive bitch’, while the others fit into every category, and somewhere in between, ranging from ‘funny guy’ to ‘cry baby’. Han took leadership of the funny guy’s, Seungmin fell into that in between grey area, and Felix made himself more than comfortable in cry baby territory.

Felix has a huge heart, Felix is a great friend, but Felix is a good boy, and he made it a game for Hyunjin without even knowing.

Once the Nayeon rift was over in your relationship, things were smooth for about a week, until Hyunjin got bored. That’s when Felix fell into his lap. Sweet sunshine, bright eyed, bushy tailed Felix, who had no idea what he was in for when Hyunjin invited him on a solo night out after a couple of days of slinking around him stealthily, buttering him up with empty words.

That night, Hyunjin pounced, and poor Felix had fallen in the trap, becoming another notch in the charismatic bastard's bedpost.

Spinning around to watch the show the boys were lost in, you lean your back against the bar, crossing your legs. The rips in your jeans stretched at the bend, the skinny white strings over your skin threatening to snap, much like your patience. Sipping from the straw in your drink, you shake the ice around in the half empty glass as you swallow, catching Hyunjin’s eye as he continues to twist about the floor, claws in his shiny new toy.

He stares at you for all of five seconds, then turns his chin to nuzzle his nose into Felix’s hair, closing his eyes, whispering more unholy nothings. His plump, pink lips moved effortlessly, everything about this act coming entirely too easy to him.

For god's sake, this was just his warm up, and Felix was already buckling at the knees.

“That’s still happening?” A polished, yet dreamy voice says beside you, having approached your frustrated energy after spotting you here alone from across the room. Shifting only your eyes to give him a look, you’re greeted by Minho’s silver hair and a quick eye roll as he sits down.

Dressed simply in a black t-shirt and dark pants, accessorized the slightest, taking a seat next to you was the first of many mistakes Minho was going to make tonight.

Your heart took a tumble at the sound of his voice, a slight nervousness sparking through your veins as you took in his appearance. Minho was buff, but he wasn’t built like a gym shark like Chan or Changbin. Instead the boy's muscles filled out the sleeves of his t-shirt enough to give Captain America a run for his money, and spending nights with him on the dance floor made you want to personally tell Chris Evans that America’s ass has some competition.

Holding a glass of jack and coke, Minho presses the lip of the cup to his own, rolling it side to side along the fat bottom, squinting out to the boys on the floor. His jaw is sharp, all of his features are, chiseled by Michael Angelo himself.

Taking a quick breath, you sigh and mutter, “Yes it is.”

Bobbing his head, Minho watches Felix press a swift kiss to Hyunjin’s cheek, then side eyes to see if you caught it too. To his pleasant surprise, that no longer held much of a shock value, your gaze was fixed where he balanced his glass.

Suppressing a smirk, Minho turns briefly to place the empty cup of melting ice on the bar before sliding his stool an inch closer to yours. He leans his back on the wood, crossing his arms. You could’ve sworn he flexed on purpose, his muscles seeming more defined than ever. With his chin lowered, he shot daggers at the handsy boys with dark eyes, and eyebrows slightly upturned.

That’s when you realized you were staring.

Swallowing, hard, you snap out of the trance he quite easily put you in, and sit up to compose yourself so you don't appear like a schlump.

“Is, uh,” Pausing to clear your throat, you ask, “Is Han here?” Taking a sip of your drink. Nodding with more of a purpose, Minho purses his lips and scans the room as if to look for his shadow of a friend.

“He’s here somewhere, Chan, too,” He says, glancing at you with a small smile. Returning it, you look back out to the dance floor, afraid that if you looked at him any longer your cheeks would turn pink.

“That’s great,” Your tone falls flat while Hyunjin brushes noses with Felix, pressed chest to chest. Following your eyes, Minho’s smile falters.

All of your friends were familiar with Hyunjin’s tendencies, the boy didn’t necessarily keep it a secret. When it all started they’d call him out and put him on the spot, but it didn’t change a thing. Born a Pisces, he was infatuated with the life of chaos, but conversations with your friends made you question if his star sign was right. You’ve never seen him practice unconditional love.

As much as it sucked watching a friend hurt another again, and again, he was still Hyunjin, and like you, unfortunately, your friends still loved him. Minho however, he’s been festering in bitterness since the moment he saw you fall for the charm Hyunjin was currently casting over Felix.

He knew off the bat he didn’t stand a chance, Hyunjin was like a drug. A relentless, karmic drug that's had you hooked for too long.

A spectator to the tumultuous year, Minho was livid Hyunjin snagged you first. You’ve always had more in common with the older boy, and if Minho had to guess, you only had one thing in common with Hyunjin. That, and your chilling attitudes, though Hyunjin was actively altruistic. You were caring, and thoughtful, and put others before yourself most times. Hell, Minho’s been standing witness to it for as long as he can remember, watching you get pummeled by Hyunjin’s emotional turmoil consistently.

When it came down to it, Minho was the one you’d run to, the guy you’d turn to for a shoulder to lean on, finding some sort of comfort in his ability to simply listen, without listening to speak. He would truly listen, and only share his thoughts if you asked.

Across the room, with Felix buried in his neck, you meet Hyunjin’s eyes swapping between you and the boy that were millimeters apart. Like you both caught it at the same time, you and Minho turn your chins to give each other a look. He wears an expression of worry cocktailed with fury.

“What?” You question, smirking, knowing he had plenty to say.

“Where’s the breaking point?” He asks, “When will you finally… snap?”

“Snap?”

“Yes, snap,” He chuckles, glancing at glaring Hyunjin momentarily, “I don’t understand how you can sit here and watch this happen.”

“Me either,” You mumble, a little white lie.

Twenty minutes at the kitchen table this morning with Hyunjin was enough to keep you on his side for another night. Sitting on his lap with his arms clamped around you, you held him as he sobbed into your chest, spilling muffled babbles of apologies and guilt ridden excuses for ‘why he is the way he is’, and that he ‘cannot live without you’. Endless empty promises, all he seemed to express, would keep you on a short leash, but what Hyunjin doesn’t know is that his cry for help this morning was pathetically transparent.

Felix gyrating against Hyunjin’s body, probably getting off on the dance floor in the middle of a crowd while the boy he was stuck to showed you the same eyes he had given you this morning was enough of a sign. Hyunjin didn’t give a shit.

“Snap,” You say. Minho raises his eyebrows.

“Excuse me?”

“Snap,” You repeat yourself, lifting a hand between your faces to literally snap your fingers.

“Okay, Thanos,” Minho mumbles, but you miss it.

Swiveling around on the stool, you slap your hands on the bar to stop yourself, leaning forward to grab the bartender who was tending to customers on the end. Minho follows you over his shoulder, arms still crossed, wearing a smug smile.

“You’re serious?” He spins around like you, bumping your knee with his along the way. The bartender comes your way, and after grabbing your order of six different shots, bustles away to gather it.

“Pretty sure,” You shrug, tilting your head so you’re a bit closer to him, “Might as well start listening to you after all this time.”

“That’s fair,” Minho’s lips twist into a smile, “Just hope you’re not lying.”

The bartender places six tiny glasses in front of you. With a thank you, you slide three of them over to Minho who raises a brow in question.

“What, lying like you?” You grill, peeking at his eyes before knocking back a shot of tequila.

“Me?!”

“I saw you with Han and Chan,” You smirk, happily watching him down two of the little glasses right after the other.

Wiping his bottom lip with his thumb, his brow creases, “What are you talking about?”

“You guys got here when we did,” You say, catching up to him in alcohol consumption, “Soon as Hyunjin walked away from me, I saw Han hyping you up to come over here.” Minho swigs his last shot, almost choking at the sound of your words.

“You keeping tabs on me?” He asks, squinting his eyes, closing the gap between you even more. Flickering your eyes to his lips that were wet with liquor, you look back up and only give him a smile. An innocent one that stirs up trouble as you down the last glass sitting on the bar.

Placing it back in line with a clink, you hop off the stool and hold your hand out. Unable to keep his gaze off of you, Minho swivels around, glancing at your open palm.

“Come on,” You coerce, wiggling your fingers. Laughing at himself, he snatches your hand to stand up.

“Where are we going?” He asks sincerely.

“I wanna dance,” You say, then step closer to him, lowering your voice, “And if you don’t want me keeping tabs on you, you have to come with me.”

“I’m yours,” He says, holding up his other hand in defeat. Dragging him along through the crowd of thirty other sweaty people, you peek backward at him and raise your brows.

“Famous last words,” You giggle.

“Wouldn’t choose any others,” He squeezes your hand, narrowing his eyes.

Distracted by Felix, Hyunjin misses the change of location, peeking back over to the empty stools after you’ve taken your place on the dance floor with Minho by your friends in the corner. Han and Chan were at a small table cradling their umpteenth drinks of the night, both of them breaking into widespread grins after spotting Minho in your grasp.

“Glad to see you’ve brought someone else along this time around,” Chan says, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, hugging you sideways. Han lifts his glass to cheers, taking a long sip afterward.

“Look at him,” You roll your eyes playfully at the two, then turn to Minho, “How can I say no?”

Clicking his tongue, Minho tilts his head back with a smirk, “Chill,” His voice has dropped several octaves within the twenty feet from the bar to the corner.

Biting down on your bottom lip in thought, you feel the wave wash over you. Gazing into his eyes that were laced with a type of passion you’ve never come face to face with, the wave more so crashed over both of you. These seven silent seconds shifted the entire night.

Minho looks over your shoulder to his friends sitting on the high top chairs, both of them gesturing to your back wearing suggestive looks of grandeur. Han and Chan have patiently waited, marinated in forced silence courtesy of Minho for a year, slowly dying inside the longer the two of you resisted the gravitational pull that’s tried for ages to tangle you up. All of your friends have actually, aside from Hyunjin who’s only suspected the pining. Han and Chan were two who were invested, using this moment to make their self proclaimed prophecy come true, ready to witness history happen in front of their eyes.

Catching Minho, you follow his eyeline and watch Han and Chan quickly pop into natural looking poses, focusing on one another and chatting about their drinks with silly little comments that ultimately meant nothing.

“Well that was slick,” You tease. Chan peeks up from his glass, lips wrapped around the tip of the straw, and gives you a wink. Han hides behind his drink, peering between you and Minho with a hidden smirk, puffing out his already chubby cheeks.

“Have fun,” He sings, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You guys are ridiculous,” You say, and turn to face Minho. His fingers tense around yours.

“Let’s dance,” He says, then pulls you into his body, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, leading you to the center of the dance floor.

Brushing by a dozen people your age, Minho finds a clearing with a smile and spins you around before finding the beat of the music himself. Keeping your hands locked, you sway with him, stepping a bit closer to close the gap.

Minho knew what he was doing, the boy was an expert when it came to moving to music. It never mattered where he was either, if he heard a beat he liked, one that he could feel in his soul, he was going to move. Like Changbin, Minho was musically inclined, his skillset extending far beyond just dancing. Tipsy enough to stand here with him without being intimidated by his extensive resume of talents, you take another step closer, bumping into his chest.

“You ever think about doing something with dance?” You ask over the music. Glancing down to where your bodies touched, Minho looks into your eyes and slips a hand around your waist without thinking twice. His fingertips press into your hip, continuing his sway, now holding you in place on him.

“God,” He mutters, shaking his head a bit, “You ask me that every three months, I think.” He smiles.

“I do,” You chuckle, placing an arm around his back, ignoring how it makes him take a sharp breath, “You just have a lot going for you,” His eyes soften as he listens to you, “Don’t you want to get out of this place? Do something huge?”

“Course I do,” He says, and though he wears a gentle expression, his tone is rough, “Don’t you?”

You would’ve stopped moving all together if you weren’t latched onto his body.

“I would,” You say quieter, his words striking your heart, “You know I would.”

“What’s stopping you?” His eyes zone in on you, already knowing the answer he wishes you would forget about. It takes you a moment to say anything, gulping out of sheer embarrassment. You peer to the side, trying to see if you could spot where the answer had ended up.

Minho unravels his hand from yours and places a finger to your cheek, turning your focus back to him. Flipping his hand, he drags the back of his fingers down your skin softly.

“Don’t look for him,” He says.

“What’s stopping you?” You ask, studying his defined features, “From moving on?”

You don’t expect him to open up, Minho was always a person who knew how to keep a secret, like those dads who dropped random trauma stories out of the blue unprovoked. Minho could’ve deflected his answer, he could’ve made some shit up, but swaying here together over the liquor stained floor he keeps his gaze on you, pressing his lips into a line, perking a brow.

A tinge of excitement surges through you, a short burst of the feeling to keep you from getting swallowed back up in Hyunjin. Minho watches you like you’re made of stars, his eyes unable to part from yours. It was you. You were the block preventing him from moving on.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” You say.

“Do I look like I care?” Minho nearly whispers, bringing his face down closer to yours. Pouting your lips, you sigh.

“Why didn’t you get to me first?” Your voice drops as your eyes flicker to his lips, your words flowing from yours with ease, like sweet, sweet music to his ears.

“He’s too pretty,” Minho tries to smile, pressing his forehead to yours.

“He’s a dick.”

“That too,” He says after a chuckle.

Dancing this way for a couple of minutes, holding on to one another beneath the cheesy strobe lights amongst the sea of human beings who didn’t care to look your way, your hands explored skin as your lips frustratingly ghosted each other. Minho took your waist with both his arms, his hands slipping down over your ass every few seconds, feeling too nervous to keep them there for too long. Your noses brushed, eyes locking for a bit before they’d shut between the shared air of pure intimacy.

Tossing your arms around his neck, his skin was dewy with sweat much like yours. The heat pumping in the closed off bar was always kicked up to a higher degree no matter the season, but tangled up this way with Minho you knew the bar wasn’t to blame for the warmth you were feeling.

Your mind was clear of any thoughts that didn’t have to do with the babe attached to you, running his hands over your body. Hyunjin and his treacherous reign of terror was gone, Hyunjin and Felix were dead to you. All that was left was the heat and the need manifesting around the two of you, revealing itself from underneath the love and the care.

Seeing Minho lick his lips slowly, seemingly hungry, warps your mind. His fingertips that once pressed into your skin were gripping you now with vigor, his eyes closed as he held you tight. When they open, the look he gives you makes your jaw drop with a heavy sigh. You're unable to do much else.

In a hurry, he tilts his chin and presses his lips to yours, this kiss long overdue. It’s packed with passion, and sprinkled with lust, deepening faster than it had happened.

Parting your lips, you slip him your tongue and nearly moan into his mouth. You feel him smile, dancing his tongue with yours, then he slides it along your bottom lip before biting it gently, pulling away, and letting go with a pop. Jaw agape, your eyes are wide as you stare in shock.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, but his eyes are dark, signifying he didn’t feel as guilty as he had sounded. There isn’t much for you to say, you weren’t upset. With a minute’s worth of kisses Minho rendered you absolutely thoughtless.

“Do it again,” You whisper. His eyebrows raise with surprise, and to your request he does not hesitate. The gap closes quickly, his lips on yours in a second, hot, wet and heavy. The first kiss, and the following, were anything but innocent and sweet.

Moving with intensity, Minho sighs within the kiss, his brows furrowing above his closed eyes. You feel his hands move up your back, making their home between your shoulder blades where he can keep you locked in place. Sliding your fingers up into his hair that was littered with moisture, you grip the silver locks and smile when you feel him tense up. A groan escapes him, one that deepens the arousal already pooling in your center.

“What are you doing to me,” He mumbles, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek just beside your lips. Giving his head a scratch, you smile, taking a deep breath. Tilting your chin back, centimeters apart, your eyes dance over his focused look, his lips parted and eyebrows twisted with need.

“Everything I’ve always wanted to do,” You brush your lips swiftly over his, taking them down to his neck, peppering the skin with soft, angelic kisses that set his skin ablaze. Bending at the knuckles, his fingers grip the fabric of your shirt, knotting it in his fists.

Tossing his head backward, eyes screwed shut, he’s guided by your lips, melting into your touch as your fingertips graze through his hair. Popping out your tongue between your lips, you draw a small circle in the valley beneath his jaw before wrapping your lips over the skin, giving it a suck, leaving a happy little mark there for him to find later. Dragging your tongue over it once more, you kiss it and look up to Minho.

His hands slide over your ass again, giving it a generous squeeze as he puts his forehead back on yours, slipping you a quick kiss. Dragging your hands down his neck, wrapping them around the front for a moment, you look into his eyes and smile. You’ve never seen him so flustered, Minho’s always composed, always in control. Never once have you ever seen him this desperate.

“Minho,” You half ask his heavy lidded state.

“Hm?” He hums, unable to say much. Placing your hands back behind his shoulders, you give him a sensual squeeze. Opening your mouth, you want to spill everything, everything you’re longing to do with him, but for an unbeknownst reason, nothing comes out.

Lifting a hand, Minho places it under your chin then shifts it to your neck, wrapping his nimble fingers around the base, giving it a gentle grab. Taller than you, he was above you, looking down into your eyes that have softened with submission at his touch.

“What was it you were gonna say?” He questions, parting his lips to subtly touch yours, depriving you of a kiss you were ready for. Rubbing his bottom lip on yours, he drags his tongue over the seam of your lips, then catches them in a kiss you’d be able to hear if the music wasn’t pumping.

“Want you,” You whisper when he parts from you, your lips wet with a slick that didn’t belong to you. Sliding his hand up your throat, pressing purposely with his palm, he passes your chin and places his thumb on your lips where you subconsciously give the pad a kiss.

Smirking, he pulls at your bottom lip, getting lost in your upturned brows and pleading gaze. He’s always wondered how this would happen, how it would all go down eventually once he had you. Hearing plenty of stories from Hyunjin over the months, he learned that you could be a real brat, Hyunjin bringing that out of you on purpose. Minho knew if he played the jerk, the tamer, you weren’t going to walk away fulfilled, wanting more. And he needed you to want more.

Hyunjin was good at what he did, but he never listened. Hyunjin was consistent when he was inside someone, but that’s where it would end. He had one mode, get in and get off, however, Minho had a trillion, and he was ready to figure out which one would have you writhing with pleasure, whining his name.

He believes he’s got part of the puzzle figured out already.

Toying your bottom lip with his thumb, Minho whispers, “Want to get out of here?”

“And go where?” You ask, hypnotized by his gaze that was always sultry. Smiling, Minho sighs in satisfaction. He had you.

“Out of here,” He breathes, touching your lips with his briefly, “Anywhere, so you can do everything you’ve always wanted to do, to me.”

There wasn’t a chance you were catching onto his game, or the way he was playing it. Minho was slick, and if anything, a tad more manipulative than Hyunjin. Playing the role of your knight in shining armor, appearing effortlessly perfect in every way, swooping in when Hyunjin started embarrassing himself, and Felix…

Minho knew what he had to do to get you, because like Hyunjin, you loved nothing more than feeling like you were in control. It warmed Minho’s heart to see you melt into him, and revved him up to no end knowing that you had no idea he had his hands on the wheel, not you.

You heart longed for him, more than the need between your thighs, so if you were going to do this it would mean catastrophe for the Hyunjin entanglement you’ve overstayed your welcome in. Though you meant what you said to Minho at the bar, you snapped, that didn’t mean there wasn’t going to be an ache within you over it. You loved Hyunjin. As ridiculously shitty as the boy can be, like, absolute garbage… You loved him.

“No?” Minho asks, pulling you from your spiral.

“Yes,” You say without a thought, your eyes darting between his. He raises a brow slightly.

“But?” His tone is gentle, coaching you along patiently.

“Where is he?” You ask, gesturing to the side with a shift of your gaze for a moment. Minho narrows his eyes, a disappointed curiousness clouding in his deep brown irises.

“Why are you worried about him?”

“Becau- Minho, please,” Widening your eyes, you plead with his, “You care about me?”

“Course I do,” He answers quick.

“Then tell me where he is,” You say, then touch the edges of your lips together, tugging him closer behind his neck, and whisper, “And after that, get us out of this sweatbox, and for all I care, you can fuck me senseless on the side of the goddamn building,” His eyes blow open wide, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, “Just tell me where he is.”

“Don’t want to give him a taste of his own medicine?” Minho teases, engulfing your lips with his own messily. Whining into it, feeling your heart twist deviously, the offer was intriguing. Pulling back, Minho is wearing a wicked grin. “Don’t want him to see the perfect girl he's giving up on leave with somebody else?”

“Perfect girl,” You repeat under your breath with a laugh, glancing away, “Don’t try to talk me up, you’re already getting it, Minho. Where is he?”

Taken aback, Minho sighs and softens his smile. Maybe you could see through the game he was playing, which made you smarter than the Hyunjin he’d compare you to.

Tipping his head away from yours, he scans the room quickly and efficiently. Hyunjin and Felix were no longer on the dance floor, they had made their way to the corner of the room where Han and Chan chatted away. Many, many empty glasses filled up their table making Minho wonder how long the two of you have been out here making fools of yourselves around everyone, shoving your tongues in your cheeks.

Hyunjin was speaking to Chan, standing beside him and still towering over where the oldest sat on the high top chair. Chan didn’t stand a chance, though he carried himself as if he was six feet tall.

The long, dark haired boy seemed worried, his brows furrowed as he leaned into Chan to talk directly into his ear over the pumping bass polluting the air from the speakers. Behind him, pouting pathetically with his knees squeezed together, stood Felix, clinging to Hyunjin’s arm with his cheek pressed to his shoulder. His entire front side was pressed to Hyunjin’s back, and Minho could read his expression from a mile away, knowing Felix wasn’t embarrassed to just be talking to your friends.

That type of desperation could be sniffed out in seconds by a cat in heat. The way he gulped and breathed from between his pouted lips was a telltale sign, not to mention his brows that were twisted in need. Either he was hard, or, he came already and was hard all over again.

Minho’s had one too many talks about it with your friends. Felix was annoyingly soft-hearted, but he was an easy little submissive bitch.

Minho watches the four of them, Chan and Han keeping their chins down while Hyunjin looks out to the dance floor, his wild, bugging eyes scouring the crowd of people on the dance floor, probably looking for you. When he gets close, Minho spins you around so that his back is facing your friends, keeping you out of Hyunjin’s sight.

“What? Is he over there?” You ask. Minho nods, locking his eyes back on yours.

“Talking to Han and Chan,” He says with caution, studying you closely, “With Felix glued to his back,” You both share a chuckle, “But… it looks like he’s looking for you… or, us, rather.”

“Great,” You sigh. Minho presses his lips together, waiting for you to say anything else. For the hundredth time, he is not Hyunjin, if you were going to back out of this, he would let you.

Watching his mind come to a complete pause as he takes you in, you smile, then rise to your tiptoes to kiss him. Not once, but three times. On his lips, on his cheek, then his earlobe, where you whispered in his ear, “Let’s go.”

“You sure?” He questions, quite whiney, and you laugh.

“Minho!” Was all you had to say.

Strong hands move to your waist, flipping you around so that you could lead the way out of Haven without being seen by your friends. On the way to the door Minho’s fingertips press into your torso, sneaking underneath the hem of your shirt to catch a quick graze of your smooth skin. Sharing giggles, quick kisses and tiny suggestive touches, the two of you finally stumble out of the door after dodging a handful of others doing the same exact thing.

Outside on the cracked sidewalk there was a group of people passing around a joint, the smell of the drug smacking you right in the face as the heavy metal door of the bar shut behind you. Lined along the brick wall were others out here for a smoke, talking amongst themselves drunkenly loud. Twisting around in Minho’s arms, you toss one of yours around his shoulder and pop your brows.

“It’s a little crowded out here,” You joke. Rolling his eyes, Minho walks you over to the end of concrete, peering around the corner into the dark alleyway where two couples could be seen feet apart making out in the dull glow of the singular streetlight that stood out front. “You thought I was serious?!” Your tone is humorous, shifting into a laugh by the end of your words.

With darkened eyes, Minho snaps his neck to look down at you, shutting you up, “I want you so bad, I’ll fuck you right here in front of the stoners,” His voice is deep, and gritty, taking you by surprise. Minho smirks, “Don’t look so shocked, what did you think you were getting into? You’re messing with a Scorpio, babe.”

Speechless, you take your bottom lip between your teeth and press your thighs together, becoming unknowingly comparable to Felix who Minho just witnessed harboring the same issue. His sudden forwardness fueled the fire burning within you.

There’s no need for Minho to say another word. In the cool breeze of the night, he tucks you beneath his arm and hustles you past the bleary drunks, around the opposite corner you had started, leading you right up to his car. A recognizable black four door Range Rover that was always sleek and clean.

Wiggling free from his grasp, you give him a cheeky look and hurry ahead of him, yanking on the handle of the backdoor. Smiling, Minho fumbles in his back pocket for the key, unlocking the doors for you, his passion burning deeper as you turn to him with a grin when you finally get it open.

Climbing in one knee at a time, Minho steps behind you and smacks your ass gently, giving it a squeeze straight after. Closing your eyes, your cheeks flush as you crawl across the leather seats, pursing your lips with shyness. Adjusting yourself so your feet are on the floor, you look over to Minho when the door shuts and the lights start to dim.

He appears as flustered as you, unsure of what the next move is going to be. He was surprised he made it this far.

As if you sensed it on each other, you both scoot closer toward the middle, hands nearly touching on the cushion of the backseat. With every care in the world, you lean into one another, foreheads caressing the other, lips hovering with hesitation knowing that what was about to follow was going to change the trajectory of the drama that was your lives.

A tiny, bitty piece of you was shouting no, don’t do it, but Minho’s cut body, sharp jawline and pining eyes that were undressing you at the moment overpowered that piece of you, screaming, bursting at the seams with need.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Minho whispers in the silence, and it’s at this moment realize how quiet it had gotten from being in the bar, to being outside, to now being in his car. His eyes flutter shut.

Lifting a hand, you brush it against his soft cheek, and cup his chin, dragging your thumb along his jaw. Minho opens his eyes, not moving a muscle until you answer him. Smiling, you give him a slight nod before turning your head to lock your lips over his.

This kiss is immensely different from all the others shared inside, it’s actually leading somewhere. Aside from your hand on his jaw, only your lips touch. It’s soft, well thought out, and all a bit juvenile… until it’s not. A small sound, a subtle hum from Minho sets you off.

After a humiliating gasp, you’re climbing over into his lap, situating your knees on either side of his hips. Deepening the kiss, it becomes a wet, sloppy battle for who can move faster. Sliding your fingers up into his hair, he lul’s his head back onto the headrest and sighs, another whine leaving him seeming more desperate than before.

“I like that,” You mumble onto his lips, licking a stripe across his bottom lip. Taking a breath, Minho laughs within it, his eyes shut.

“Never had a vocal boy before?” He questions, tilting to the side as you work your lips down the side of his neck once more, littering the honey colored skin with as many marks as you possibly could. Lifting your chin with a pop, after sucking at the crook of his neck so hard he whimpers again, you smize.

“Not unless he’s calling me a slut,” You say, and his eyes pop open, glaring toward you.

“You like that?” He asks. Bringing your gaze back up to meet with his, you raise an eyebrow and shrug, licking your lips. Minho eyes you curiously, then like lightning, raises a hand off your waist to grip you beneath your chin, pressing his palm against your throat. Your jaw falls open in shock, the abrupt movement catching you totally off-guard. His expression hasn’t changed, he’s still eating you alive with his eyes.

“Forget how to use your words?” His voice is soft, yet entirely demanding, “Gonna have to talk like a big girl and ask nicely if you want me inside of you, you little slut.” Gulping pathetically, he feels it in your throat. There’s a whine that escapes you, one so quiet it could be missed if he wasn’t so enthralled with everything you did.

“Yeah,” He whispers, smirking devilishly, “You like that.”

“I do,” You breathe, answering him like he wanted you to, even if he was just messing around. You knew how to follow your rules.

“Oh my god,” He groans, releasing his grip on your neck to bury his face in it, marking your skin up just the same. Falling into his chest, tangling your fingers in his silver strands, your head falls back at the feeling of his lips on your skin, his teeth grazing along the sore spots he created. Grinding down on his lap, you moan aloud for him, one he returns, his lips vibrating behind your ear where he planted kisses.

“Minho,” You say, “Fuck this, I can’t wait,” You whine, pushing him away. With heaving breaths, he sits back, hands falling to your thighs the same as his eyes where he watches you start to mess with the button of your jeans.

Feeling a spark in his veins, his breath hitches in his throat looking back up to your eyes that were already looking back.

“Next time we can fool around, I just need you right now,” You mutter fast, getting your zipper down at the same speed. Minho’s smile is almost nonexistent. He’s repeating your words in his head, the two at the start wiping his mind of anything else that could possibly exist. Next time.

Grabbing hold of the waistband of your jeans, Minho helps to shimmy you out of them without bumping your head on the lined ceiling of his car. He tosses them beside him, placing his hands on your knees that straddled his lap again, and slowly drug them up your bare thighs, inching closer to the place that needed him most.

Cutting him short, not wanting him to touch you until he was as exposed as you- because you knew if he did you’d both get too lost in the pleasure, and you didn’t want to come unless it was on his dick first. Minho could hold his secrets, and keep them away from you as much as he wanted, but you knew one thing to be true. Minho wants nothing more than to touch you.

Unbuttoning his pants with haste, you release a breathy sound with a smile and pull his bottoms down to his knees as he lifts his hips with you on them to help you. Glancing between your bodies that were centimeters away, you were met with everything you hoped for and more.

“Jesus, Min,” You whisper, taking a deep breath, looking back up at him. Minho rolls his eyes and laughs.

“That’s affirming,” He mumbles, and you let his hands slide up to your hips, drawing dainty circles over the newly exposed sensitive skin, inches away from where he should be. Biting your lip, pointing your gaze down, you hear him laugh again.

“What?” You ask, obliviously cute, looking to him with wide eyes.

Minho lowers his brows in admiration and says, “It’s nice to know I’m bigger than him.”

“Oh, without a doubt,” You answer, nodding your head, your expression remaining the same.

Laughing louder, he squeezes the round of your thighs and takes a deep breath, leaning in to give you a quick messy kiss before saying, “Gonna show me what it’s like to fuck a little slut, or what?”

Reaching for his hardened length, he intakes a sharp breath between his teeth at your touch, his eyebrows furrowing. Lifting your hips, you keep your eyes on him, his head falling back to look up at you with parted lips. His hands are stuck to your hips, making themselves at home there, his fingertips massaging your skin carefully.

Lining him up, he’s right in place, both of you ready to go. Through shared breath, your hearts are racing, but you hesitate. Composing himself as best as he could, Minho swallows hard and shakes his head a bit.

“Don’t do it if you don’t want to,” He whispers, giving you the whole truth, you could see it in his eyes.

“I want to,” You whisper back, “I want you, I need you…” Leaning into him, you crash your lips onto his at the same time you let your hips settle onto his lap, his girthy length slipping inside of you with ease.

Gasping, a wave of euphoria washes over you, your back arching you into his chest as his hips thrust up into you once he felt your slick wrap around him. Releasing a moan together, you both laugh breathlessly and subtly shift as the overwhelming sensation sucks you under.

“Oh… my god,” Minho groans from his chest, digging his fingertips into your hips. While he mentally talked down his release to himself, you swayed your hips forward and back, just slightly, to get used to the stretch. It wasn’t painful, Minho wasn’t hurting you, but he was obviously bigger than Hyunjin, something you weren’t used to.

Your body was comfortable, that much was clear, at least you could both tell by the way he so effortlessly slid into you with a shrewd squelch.

“You okay?” Minho asks as you grip him around his shoulders, chest to chest. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he presses a few soft kisses, feeling how, like him, you couldn’t catch your breath. Nodding, you sigh, and suck in a gust of air through your lips.

“Yeah,” Whispering to him, you move so you can rest your forehead on his, meeting his eyes for the first time.

With just one look into his softened, heavy lidded eyes written in a language neither you nor Minho spoke yet, you feel him tense beneath you, a feeling that has you clenching around him without having even moved. Grabbing you tight by the waist he lifts you up so only the tip of his cock is sheathed.

“Jesus,” He mutters, his blown out pupils making you smile.

“Never thought sex would get you so spiritual, Min,” You tease.

“Shut up,” He smiles, letting go of your hips so you plop back down onto his lap. A loud moan escapes you, the sensation making you clobber your hands around him tight. “Mhm, still funny?”

“Hysterical,” You curl your lip, then kiss him with vigor, starting to move your hips over his at an unapologetic pace. Groaning as your lips ghost his with every bounce, Minho slides his hands up your shirt and drags his fingernails down your back slowly, sliding them back up to do it again before he holds the small of your back, guiding your movement.

For minutes you stay this way, riding him on the leather seats of his expensive car, filling the empty air with filthy sounds and profanities while your hands explore each other's bodies. Minho was right, you’d never been with a guy that was as vocal as him before, not even Hyunjin. All the other guys you’ve slept with held it in, kept the sounds to themselves as if they were embarrassed, but Minho let it all go. You were certain no one would sound as beautiful as him, though. It spurred you on, let you know he was feeling incredible, and sparked the race to your release.

“Love the way you sound,” You whisper, popping your tongue out to tangle with his.

“Yeah?” He breathes, catching your lips in a kiss.

“Yeah,” You sigh, planting your hips, and twisting them in a circle. Minho screws his eyes shut, giving you a nasty sound that makes you shake.

“Fuck,” He mutters, opening his eyes, “Are you gonna come?”

“If you keep whining like that, I will,” You say from behind clenched teeth, swirling your hips in a circle again, letting your eyes fall shut as he gives you what you want to hear. “Too soon,” You mumble, your knees involuntarily jutting into his thighs.

“No,” He groans, moving his hands back down to your hips, “Come,” He says, guiding you back into a bounce, “Next time we can fool around.” Copying your words, you give him a sly look.

Letting his hands coerce you along, every few tips of your hips you throw them in a circle, making him thrust up into you as his own release stalks him down. A guttural moan was enough to let him know he should do it again, and without thinking he does.

The two of you cling to one another, chasing your highs, singing songs of utmost pleasure for one another, the feeling within you being pulled tighter, and tighter, until it finally snaps. Your body presses into Minho’s harder than before, locking him in place as his hips thrust up into you to ride out your high. Feeling you squeeze him tight has him spilling into you after a few more relentless bucks of his hips, definitely leaving a couple of bruises on your hips with his fingertips.

Bodies radiating with pleasure, sucking in air, shaking in aftershock like you never have, you and Minho share a slow, exhausted kiss. Parting lips, you take a few moments to gaze at one another, reveling in the euphoric feeling for a while longer.

You’re the first to break the silence, glancing to the window beside you, giggling. A smile grows on his face as he watches you, then he follows your gaze and lets out his own chuckle.

“You ever see the Titanic?” You ask, and he makes a face of disbelief.

“Have I ever seen the Titanic,” He repeats with a dramaticized eye roll, then lifts a hand to swipe across the fogged up window. It wasn’t as perfect as Kate Winslett’s, but it held the same meaning.

“How am I getting off of you without making a mess?” You whisper to him, pulling your lips into a line with a laugh. Looking down at where he was still inside of you, he pouts his bottom lip, glancing around the backseat for anything to help you guys out. Placing a hand around your back he scoots forward, taking you with him, and slips a hand in the pouch that was on the back of the passenger seat.

“Shit,” He shrugs, sitting back on the leather, “Guess we’re makin’ a mess,” He sighs, looking at you with a sweet smile, “Wait,” He stops you before you can move. Wrapping both hands around your back, he shifts slowly and carefully, keeping all extremities safe from the car set up, and he places you on your back where he can slip out of you with ease.

“Genius,” You say sarcastically. With another shrug he smirks.

“What can I say?” He plays along, reaching over your head for the panties he pulled off of you a half hour ago. Maneuvering the pair of unflattering bikini cut underwear over your feet, he slides them all the way up and plants a kiss to the inside of one of your ankles. Blushing, you turn your cheek to hide, regretting your choice of undergarments.

Getting laid in the backseat of one of your best friends' cars wasn’t on the agenda for this evening, but here you were, with Minho helping you back into your jeans.

“Thank you,” You say, sitting up to put the button back together, and Minho, who was situating himself, shoots you a funny glance.

“Don’t thank me, you make it sound like-”

“For my pants, Min,” You laugh, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates, letting it close, then open again. “You don’t have to say anything,” You whisper, and he huffs.

“But I feel like there’s so much to say,” He shakes his head, “I mean, are you kidding me? I have so much to say to you.” His tone of voice doesn’t seem to match the strength of his gaze that’s on you. Lifting a hand, you place it on his shoulder and give it a squeeze.

“I know,” You nod, your eyes wandering to the number you did on his neck, “I know you do, and I have… so much to say to you.” Looking into his eyes, the emotion within them shifted. What once was worried, and somewhat shameful, was now full of hope.

“Not now,” He says, and you nod.

“Not now,” You repeat. He maintains eye contact with you for a little while longer, then sighs and nods toward the door.

“Come on,” He says, then makes you laugh with, “It’s fucking hot in here.”

Jumping out of the Range Rover, using his hand to help you out, you and Minho both share smiles as you stretch your limbs like complete dorks. Slamming the door shut, Minho holds open his arms for you to fall into, burying your face in his chest.

Circling his hands over your back, you want to stay right here and melt into his touch, but a person standing on the corner of the street catches your eye. They’re leaning against the building with their arms folded across their chest, looking straight at you.

“Minho?” You get his attention with a whisper.

“Hm?” He hums, looking down at you, kissing the top of your head on the way. An act that makes your knees quiver at the moment.

“Hyunjin is right there.”

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

#skz

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

CHEESE. -> felix x fem!reader, han x fem!reader, chan is here too

summary: Your best friends are about to have their next comeback! The boys ask you for help with some finishing touches on their album.... Just not in the way you'd expect.

word count: 6k

warnings: 18+, friends to lovers, sexual content, unprotected sex (dont do that), threesome vibes, oral (f receiving), cursing, praising, spit???, slight degradation... if you squint?, voyeurism... IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

a/n: I am not the best at writing smut, I wrote this for practice and it took me entirely too long. This idea popped in my head literally while listening to CHEESE... If you know what part of the song I'm talking about please come to me and tell me I'm not alone!! Lol! I'm incredibly nervy to post this, so feedback is appreciated. I want to get better at this!

Plopping down beside Felix on the couch with a smile, he slipped an arm around your back to give your shoulder a squeeze. Chan sat in front of the two of you hunched over his keyboard focused intently on what he was working on.

“What are you guys doing now?” you asked, looking from Felix’s unreadable smize to the back of Chans beanie where his natural curls were popping out. The boy’s sculpted back turns at your question, eyes boggling Felix.

“Recording,” the blonde beside you muttered quickly, shooting Chan a subtle glare. “A song for the new album.” Felix’s sweet cheeks returned to you, his freckles insanely prominent tonight. He knew how much you liked them.

With a shake of his head Chan returned to his work, clicking away at the program on the screen. He looked as if he hadn’t been sleeping, something that happens when he’s stuck in crunch and cram mode.

“Wasn’t everything already finished?” you questioned, pouting your bottom lip in confusion. Felix’s eyes flicker down to it for half a second.

“Uh, yeah,” he said tentatively. “But, Chan wanted some things changed, said it didn’t seem finished yet.”

“We’re just tweaking details,” Chan mumbleed, zoned in on the screen.

Studying the older boys frame, you scrunch your eyebrows. Felix’s hand that rested on your shoulder touched your jaw, turning you to put your eyes back on his.

“You're confused,” he said quietly. The back of his thumb draws gentle circles over the apple of your cheek.

“Yeah,” you replied as quietly as he had. “Why would you need my help with this? I’m not good at this part, you guys know that.”

A small laugh leaves both boys as they remember exactly why you weren’t good at this part. Last comeback you nearly deleted the entire folder of files for the album while transferring some things for Changbin. It took Jeongin, and Chan almost two hours to recover what you had done.

“Oh, we know,” Felix teased, giving your cheek a squeeze.

Furrowing your brows completely, you tilted your head and gave him a look. Being handsy with one another wasn’t out of the ordinary, you were close with all eight of them. If anything, that was the only normal thing about this entire situation.

The way Felix looked at you was typically playful and light, not anything like he was at the moment. His big brown eyes seemed dark, and his entire wholesome demeanor was off.

“You okay?” you asked, and it made Chan snort.

Nibbling his bottom lip as he smiled, Felix nodded his head and joined Chan with another laugh, like they were both part of some inside joke you knew nothing about.

“I’m so confused,” you said, unable to repress your smile that grew. Felix slapped his other hand to one of your thighs and gave it a hearty squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” his voice dropped a couple octaves as he leaned toward you. “You won’t have to do a thing.”

Just as you're about to open your mouth to utter another refrain of confusion, the door to the room swung open and Han strolled in, slamming it shut. Sunglasses were perched on his nose beneath his shaggy brown bangs. When he spotted you and Felix on the couch he lowered them with two fingers and raised a brow.

“And here I thought you would’ve gotten a head start,” He grilled, tossing the glasses onto the desk beside Chan’s elbow, who doesn’t even give them a glance.

Your ‘hi’ to Han goes unnoticed.

“What do you take me for?” Felix screwed up his face, both of you watching Han walk over to your side.

He placed a knee on the couch next to yours and shrugged his shoulders.

“A horny little bitch,” Han said without remorse. He wins his own chuckle from Chan, and an internalized gasp from you.

Lurching forward on the cushions you tossed your hands up to the side and looked at the floor.

“I’m sorry?” you half asked, giving your head a shake. Han sighed, his breath tumbling into a laugh as he sat down next to you.

“You’re kidding,” he said. “Did either of you tell her?” He asked his friends like you weren’t right beside him.

“Tell me what?” you raised your voice a bit, hoping one of them would give you an answer.

“Obviously not,” Felix’s tone is hushed, you can almost hear how wide his eyes have gotten. Chan finally glanced over his shoulder, directly at Han.

“I was waiting for you, like always,” he said, then he looks at you, “They’re gonna fuck you.”

Leaping to your feet, you don’t think you’ve ever felt the blood rush from your face faster than it did in these few seconds. Stumbling forward, you bump the corner of Chan's desk and turn around to face the three of them, hands fumbling to grasp something substantial, something that’ll balance out your spiral.

“Very funny,” you tried to laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up. “So funny, guys.”

Han and Felix share a look as Chan spun in his chair to face you. Placing his hands in his lap, his expression never falters.

He’s serious.

“You’ve listened to Cheese?” he asked, and only after your hesitant nod he continued, “It’s missing something, and I really think you would be the one to give me what I want. What I’m thinking of, the thing that’s missing, reaches its peak during Felix and Han’s verse, so we thought it’d be right if they were the ones to… give me what I want, from you.”

“And, uhm, we all see the way you stare,” Han raised a hand to catch your attention, and once you looked at him he gestured between himself and Felix. “You don’t have to be afraid of this.” Your jaw drops.

“Don’t have to be afraid of this?” You're close to a shout, thank god for the soundproof walls. “You tell me you need my help, then lock me in a room and tell me I’m gonna get… fucked?!”

“Damn,” Han adjusted his jeans. “Don’t need to make it sound hotter than it already is, baby.” The sudden pet name sends a wave of warmth throughout you.

Chan, who is waiting patiently, still watching you, speaks up to say, “The doors unlocked. And, you know, I honestly thought maybe you’d be into it, like Han said, we all see the way you stare.” Tilting his head side to side in thought, he shrugged. “You don’t have to do it, ‘specially if you’re worried about the friendship thing, I get it.”

With a sigh you muttered, “Thank you,” feeling some type of relief until his following words flip a switch within you.

He turned to his friends and ever so nonchalantly said, “We can find another girl to do it. Felix, go outside, one is bound to throw themselves at your feet.” Laughing together, the three of them looked back over to you and quieted down dramatically.

They’re met with stern eyes, ones that could kill. Your fingernails dug into the wood of Chan’s desk, white knuckling the edge so hard you were sure one of your nails would crack. Though this emotion is directed to all three, you can’t help but send it straight to Felix.

“What’s the matter?” he whispered, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees sly as anything. “What part of that plan makes you mad?”

“I’m not mad,” you grit your teeth. Han scoffed, grinning like a mad man.

Lowering his chin, Felix looked at you through his lashes and smirked.

“Your seconds away from crushing a slab of pine in your fingers, and if looks could kill, I’d be on the floor,” he spoke slowly, like he was taunting you. “Don’t like the idea of me going to find a girl for us to work with?” Rolling your eyes at the terms he’s used, Felix laughed to himself.

“We chose you for a reason, babe,” Felix cooed, catching onto how the pet names made you feel.

Comfort radiates off of his being, it always has. You and Felix were the closest out of everybody, you were similar in age and shared a comparable personality. You’ve always had a protective energy when it came to him, you truly loved him.

Never did it cross your mind that the opportunity to fuck him, and another one of your friends, in your other friends recording studio would arise.

Felix is gorgeous, anyone with a set of eyes could see that much. To you, however, you saw everything about him on such a deeper level, amplifying his attractive aura.

Would you sleep with him given the chance? Definitely. Do you want to risk ruining your friendship over it? Definitely not.

These boys were perfectionists, you knew they weren’t joking around when Chan told Felix to step outside and find a girl, they’d do what it takes to make sure their art was immaculate.

The thought of Felix being with another girl made you feel weird. Your stomach twisted up in knots, and your heart began to beat heavily.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, holding onto Felix’s gaze.

“Well,” he began, gesturing to Chan. “All he wants, all he needs, is a couple of… sounds… from you. He’s gonna mix it into the song.”

Looking over to Chan you meet his eyes and his simple smile.

“Is that… even allowed?” You huffed a laugh. “That’s so not appropriate.”

Shrugging, Chan lifted a hand to rub his eye. “I need something different,” he said, “Working with the same shit is getting old, I’m losing inspiration. I’ve heard of other artists doing this, I just thought I could give it a try.”

Pressing your lips together tight, you sighed. The exhausted desperation written on his face made you want to say yes immediately.

You turned back to the boys on the couch, the two of them staring you down like you were their prey.

“Um, it’s- it’s both? Both of you?” you stammered, shifting in your shoes, suddenly feeling clammy beneath their gaze.

A slight smile pricked at Felix’s lips.

“Both of us,” he said. “But you can have it however you want. You tell us what to do.”

With a hard swallow, you stand up straight and smooth your palms over your thighs.

“And, uh, what do I have to do?” you asked, the shakiness starting to subside from your tone. Han caught on, sitting forward like Felix, rubbing his hands together.

“Take it like a good girl,” he said, smirking.

Chan turned around with a ‘whoop’ and nodded to his friend, again, like you weren’t standing in the room he was praising him in.

Han’s words sparked the feeling, pummeling you headfirst into a burst of need.

And once it starts, it’s very difficult to get it to stop, leaving you with only one solution.

It didn’t feel wrong. That’s what kept you going.

Sinking into Felix’s kiss, dancing your lips against his, you melted under Han’s touch. His hands slipping beneath your top and grazing your skin carefully as he leaned in to press kisses to your neck.

Felix took his time, savoring every second, kissing you like he didn’t have a job to do. One of his hands slid up your side to grab hold of Han’s wrist, dragging both of their fingers up to grip the fabric of your bra with a greedy squeeze.

Pulling away from Felix, you pressed your forehead to his and sighed with your eyes shut.

“What do I… When do I have to…” you whispered, the feeling of Han’s lips sucking at the skin below your jaw rendering you breathless.

“Relax,” Felix whispered back, giving your cheek a slow kiss. Opening your eyes you met his and took a breath. Having him this close was intoxicating, you cursed yourself for not doing this sooner. He’s barely touched you and you’re already a goner.

“Just let it happen,” Chan said, focused back on his project. You feel Felix’s other hand move beneath your chin, using his pointer finger to turn you back to him. He leaned in to kiss you until you made him hesitate.

“He’s gonna stay here?” you questioned quietly. Felix smiled, then nodded after taking in your worried expression.

“Course,” he breathed, slipping his fingers up into your hair. The pad of his thumb graced your cheek once more.

Poking his tongue out between his lips, Felix watched you for another moment, waiting to see if you had more to say. With you staring down at his lips, he realized he’s not getting anything else out of you, so he tilted his head aside and pressed a heavy, wet kiss to your lips that were about to ask for more.

Hans' work hadn’t gone unnoticed. While you spoke with Felix the boy behind you used his lips and his tongue to his advantage, coercing you to continue in case his friend's words didn’t keep you engaged.

Their intertwined hands over your bra grope you again before they part, Han using both of his hands to unclasp the article of clothing preventing them from getting a handful of what they really want.

As much as this was for work purposes, both boys were going to enjoy this as if it were happening naturally, and they intended to make sure you felt that way too.

“Are you recording this whole thing?” Han asked, his eyes peeking sideways at Chan who bobs his head slowly.

“I have to,” he said.

Pulling back from Felix, you sighed, “Why?” breathlessly, your head lulling back onto one of Hans shoulders.

The boy you’ve collapsed upon shared a smug look with Felix, toying with the hem of your shirt. Leaning into the two of you, Felix pressed slow kisses to the skin of your neck, melting as he watched your lips part with pleasure.

A small, short laugh escaped Han, signifying his satisfaction with the situation he’s been invited into. Chan turned over his shoulder for a second to gauge how much time he had before he was getting what he needed to finish the track.

Meeting Han’s eyes and devilish grin, Chan simply smiled and shook his head recognizing that the two boys were moments away from success. He didn’t need to give you an answer.

When he focused back on his work, he played the track hoping to ease any stray nerves you had while simultaneously preparing to test the sounds you were about to make, ready to figure out which one sounded best.

Shifting beneath you, Han took his lips to the other side of your neck, grazing his teeth on your skin gently. One of his hands finally slid up to grasp a handful of one of your breasts, drawing circles over your perky bud with his thumb.

A heavy sigh escaped you, deemed almost usable by Chan who hums his approval, his deep voice seeming to spur you on without his physical participation.

Felix was losing himself, kissing your skin with a persistence Han had never seen before. He’s nipping and sucking beneath your jaw leaving behind little purple love bites… Han didn’t think he had it in him.

Your hands found Felix’s neck, slipping behind to tug at the hair that hung there. Between Han’s tender ministrations, Felix’s plump lips grazing over the same sweet spot again and again, and Chan’s deep, seductive humming along with the music, the first whine escapes you.

“Ah,” Chan grinned, his clicks on his computer getting lost within the beat of the music. “Good girl.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, Chan’s praises making you ache with desire, writhing against Han, your ass grinding into his hips, feeling how hard he was already.

A sound leaves Felix, something of a laugh as he picks his head up to kiss your lips slowly, whining himself, quietly, for you. He wasn’t sure he cared too much if he was heard on track as well, the more he kissed you the more he slipped into a thoughtless haze, his only focus becoming you.

Han watches Felix kiss you, bucking his hips against your curves that taunted him, realizing that he was going to have to be the one with a brain. As much as he’d love to get lost in the pleasure like the two of you seemed to be, he was focused on getting what Chan wanted. Plus, it seemed like this was elevated for you two, making him wonder what was lying beneath all of this.

Han triggers you to grind your hips again, swirling them around on his lap with more force, forcing a low groan emitted from his chest. Sucking in a deep breath when Felix pulled back, you look up at him, brows twisted with need.

“So pretty,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose gently. “D’you want me to touch you?”

“Please,” comes from your throat, voice strained as you twist your head to bury your face in the crook of Hans neck. The boys share a look, Han finding Felix’s pure eyes have gone completely dark. The kind, innocent friend he once knew was unrecognizable, making Han’s jeans even tighter.

“Lay back on Hannie, baby,” he said, guiding both you and Han backward against the couch. Felix gripped your thighs, pulling your legs toward him as he lowered himself over top of you to kiss your lips while his fingers worked at the button that guarded what he wanted. Han thrust his hips up into you to shift you onto his lap, to keep you where he wanted you. “He’s still got his hands on you, that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, sucking in a breath straight after as Han pinched your nipples. A snarky laugh of satisfaction escaped him in a rush of air.

Felix’s eyes darted to the boy behind you. “Don’t hurt her.”

“She liked it.” Han rolled his eyes.

The way they could talk about you as if you weren’t even in the room, like you were simply here just for their use drove you crazy. You had never been with two guys at once, you were already burning up and everyone was still fully clothed

“Play nice,” Chan’s tone was strict.

Two guys at once was one thing, but, two guys at once while a third sat two feet away from you, recording you while you were with two guys at once?! If Chan spoke again you’d probably cum on the spot.

Felix had your pants off after a smirk was shared with Han, peeling off the thong you were wearing at the same time. As he sunk between your thighs, you weren’t even tempted to shy away. Your attendance to this event was unknown to you prior to a half hour ago, there wasn’t a shot in hell that you were prepared for this. With Felix between your legs none of it seemed to matter, to either of you.

The boy you laid on latched his lips to your earlobe, replacing it with his teeth, giving it a decent bite that sent a chill down your spine. Arching your back heaving a sigh, Han tightened his grip around your chest to keep you pinned down, resuming his work on the marked up skin of your neck. The longer he laid here, the messier he got. The relief he craved, and couldn’t have, was taken out on your skin.

Felix was glued to your eyes, focused on how the way he moved made you feel. Pressing chaste kisses to the inside of each of your thighs, he inched closer to where you needed him. His tongue darted out from between his slick lips and licked a stripe across your left thigh, making sure to take his time, especially when he watched your brows flip.

Your lips were parted, each breath you took was heavier than the last, yet you still hadn’t made much noise. Han, the one to actually notice, shot a glare down to Felix, begging him to get on with it. With how intense it felt between the two of you, he figured you’d be loud as hell. You and Felix always looked at each other like you were ready to pounce, and here it was, it was happening, and you sounded like a little prude.

“Felix, I’m gonna need you to fuck her with your tongue right now, or I swear to god I’ll put my fingers-“

A switch flipped within the blonde boy, and the fuzzy, ditziness he was getting caught up in was gone. He had a job to do, he remembers that. He totally wasn’t trying to drag this out as long as he possibly could.

Dropping his chin, he drags his tongue up and down between your folds like it had just run across your skin. He wastes no time, swirling his tongue over your clit before pushing it into you.

A strangled moan finally falls from your lips and it becomes very clear to all three of them that you had been holding back.

“There she is,” Felix smirked at you, and the sight was something to behold. His pretty face between your legs, a picture of innocence and pure beauty as he slurped at your sweetness and spat it back out on your clit.

“Jesus, Felix,” Han mumbled. The boy beneath you was done for, his hips had been grinding against you the second Felix stuck his tongue in you. His hands, still full of your breasts, toyed with them for his own pleasure at this point. He was enjoying the show, and couldn’t imagine what Chan must be feeling.

Felix was focused on you, he wanted you to feel good. He wanted to be the one to make you feel good. He wanted the boys to hear the track and know that it was him who got you to sound like that. With your head tossed backward on Hans shoulder and your hands digging into his thighs, you were squirming like crazy and giving Chan so much to work with.

“Oh, fuck,” Han muttered, seeming to be the only one to form words. Your grip on his thighs tightened, and continued to get tighter. The moans slipping past your lips were shorter, getting higher with each gasp of air. He assumed that could only mean one thing.

He couldn’t stop watching Felix, even with you writhing in pleasure on his lap, Hans attention was on the blonde between your legs, and his. The way he worked his tongue was magic, he could only imagine what it would feel like… The sounds that slipped out of him as he watched you while he worked… How his hips were grinding against the couch to chase some pleasure of his own…

This was insane.

Felix was seconds away from pulling away from you to say something, Han could see it coming, but it was a stupid ass move, you were about to cum. Sliding a hand out of your shirt, Han tangled it into Felix's hair to keep him down, pushing him into your further, the pressure making everything Felix was doing go harder.

“I’m gon- Fuck!” Arching into Hans chest, it got trickier for the boy to hold you down. With a hand in Felix's hair, he had to slip the other up your chest to get a good grip. His fingers wrapped around the base of your neck, pushing you down without hurting you.

The sudden slight constriction of air sent you over the edge, digging your nails into Hans thighs so hard he hissed in pain. Clamping your eyes shut you shook on top of him, pushing your body backward into his while Felix hummed against your slickness, letting you ride out your high for as long as you could.

From the corner of his eye Han saw Chan shoot both of them a thumbs up and tried not to laugh.

Sucking down deep breaths you pop your eyes open and look down at Felix who slowly lifts his head as Hans hands recede off of your body.

His hair is a mess. His lips are pink, wet, and a little swollen. His dark eyes were… darker.

His tongue swiped over his lips, tasting you one last time before he started to sit up. Studying you, he was too afraid to say anything, until you answered every unasked question that lingered in the sweaty air of the studio.

Pushing off of Han completely you fall forward onto Felix, knocking him back onto the sofa. Your hands gripped his face, squeezing his cheeks as you kissed him, sloppy and rough. Your tongues met through shared air and quiet laughter.

“I taste good,” you whispered. Felix growled.

“You wanna know?” He raised a brow and within seconds had you flipped over onto your back.

Hovering above you with your knees caging his, he pushes your knees toward your shoulders and dips down to your core, his tongue meeting you, making you shudder.

A smirk graces his lips as he hovers back over you, slipping a hand under your jaw. His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, persuading them to open, and they do. Eyes locked on his, a whine escapes you as he spits into your mouth, letting it fall from his lips slowly. He catches your lips in a kiss as a whine tumbled out of you.

Fumbling your hands between your bodies you grip the waist of his sweats and pull them down. Ignoring the look he questions you with, you get his boxers off next and hook your legs behind his back. Throwing your arms around his shoulders you tug him closer and kiss him. “Get inside of me. Right now,” you whispered to his lips.

And you didn’t have to tell him twice.

Felix pushed into you with little resistance. Burying his face into your neck, the pace of his hips was relentless, and the way your nails dug into his shoulders would leave behind the proof. His mouth devoured the valley of skin below your neck that was already torn up from Han.

Nose buried in his hair, chasing wherever his lips wandered off to, you screwed your eyes shut and lost yourself, letting the feeling take over.

“Lix, fuck, is’so good.”

Shifting on top of you, he bites down on his bottom lip and grins. Anywhere else it’d seem pure and happy, anywhere but right now, pinning you down on Chans sofa while he insatiably fucked into you.

“You’re sayin’ names, baby,” he cooed snarkily, dragging a thumb over your cheek. “You want Channie to add you moaning my name to the track?”

Felix slid his arms under you, pausing for only a moment to lift you up only to put you down on Chan's desk next to all of his recording equipment. Snapping his hips into you, he reached for the microphone and pulled it closer to you.

“There,” he groaned. “Gotta make sure everyone can hear you get fucked, the thing you didn’t wanna do, what we had to talk you into doing.”

Clinging onto his body as he pushed you further onto the desk, you wanted to swallow every sound you were making now that the mic was so close, but it was damn near impossible. The equipment was rattling around, there was no telling whether or not any of it was being picked up, but it didn’t matter.

“Can’t believe you didn’t want this.”

If Felix was gonna keep talking to you like this you’d let Chan use whatever he wanted from you whenever he wanted.

“I-I did,” you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair. You arched into his chest.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Imagine if this was somebody else.” Heat rose within you. “This was almost someone else, a complete stranger. Chan was right yanno, I’d just have to walk outside and-”

You slapped a hand over his mouth. His eyes shot wide, but not out of shock. Tilting forward he touched his sweaty forehead to your own, eyes simmering with something spicy.

“It will n-never… be somebody else,” you forced out between sudden breaths. Dropping your hand to his chest you tug on his shirt to keep him close to you.

“You’re a little slut you know that right?” Felix snickered, nipping at your lips.

“Am not,” you whined, feeling your head starting to fall backward. Felix wrapped an arm around your neck and held you to his chest.

He smiled. “We for sure thought you’d agree to me, but no one else.” Popping your eyes open, your wide gaze told him everything. “Neither of them… fuck, y’feel so good… They didn’t have to stay.”

“Shit,” you hissed, falling forward onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead to his sleeve. “Lix…”

“Fuck, you say my name so pretty… say it again.”

Lifting your head, you look him in the eyes and do it, catching his lips in a wet hot kiss.

For several minutes Felix stays above you, hands roaming your body, caressing you, inspecting you softly while you clung to him tightly. Your parted lips graze with every sharp thrust of his hips, tangling in sloppy kisses whenever one of you remembers you could do that.

A groan comes out of him as he gripped your thighs, and then another one as he wrapped his arms around your back and laid you onto Chan's desk completely. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, and threw your head back, eyes shut. “Me too, Lix.”

He’s quiet, and his hips slow. Popping your eyes open you catch him smiling with pursed lips. “And you never said any-”

“Lix,” you whined, arching your back. “I’m ‘bout to cum, don’t stop.”

He sighed heavily, uttering a quiet, “Me too,” before he snapped into you, harder than ever before. “Didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to make you cum once… now I get to do it twice.” Lifting you off the desk, Felix laid you back on the couch where Han had been sitting. Using his knees to keep you in place, he pushes your knees back to your shoulders and presses your chests together. “You look at me.”

Knotting your fingers into his hair, giving it a harsh tug, you nodded and tried to say something to him, but it got lost in a babble of whines. His lips met your cheek, kissing you long and slow as his hips stuttered.

“W-want you to c-”

“I will, baby,” he whispered, shutting you up. “After you, you’re doing so good. Channie’s gonna be so happy, you did such a good job.” His praises spur you on, soft whispers falling down your neck in a gust of warm air. Felix can feel how his words affect you and his hips stutter again, trying to keep control. “Such a good girl.” His deep voice sends you over the edge, arching your back into his chest.

A thousand more praises fall over you as he pushes himself into you several more times, riding your high with you until he hits his own, nearly collapsing onto you. He was quiet, and it killed you. Quiet because that microphone was still recording and you were still whimpering until he slipped out of you and pressed a heavy kiss to your lips.

Tipping his chin back to take you in, he smiled, something small. Relaxing beneath him, you detangle your legs and take a deep, shaky breath. Part of you didn’t want to let him go.

“Felix?” you whispered.

“Hm?” his hum was soft, his eyes were dancing around your expression. Nodding your head toward Chan’s computer, you laughed within a breath.

“Turn the goddamn song off.”

Felix laughed with you, kissing the tip of your nose before he retreated off of you to slap his hand on the keyboard. The song stops halfway through its umpteenth replay, and silence floods the room.

Sitting up to your elbows, glancing around the small room for your pants, Felix tosses them to you as he wiggles into his own. He sits back down next to you, close so your arms are brushing against one another.

“You okay?” he asked, reaching for your hand, but hesitating immediately. Watching it happen, you smile and grab it, lacing your fingers together. Now was the part where you’d determine if your friendship was ruined forever or not.

You turned that smile toward him. “I’m okay,” you nodded. “Would love a shower… That was a lot…” Suddenly you’re reminded of how this situation began, with you wedged between two boys. Whipping your head side to side, you find that you and Felix were alone. “Wait, where did…”

Felix shrugged. “I don’t know when they left,” he said quietly.

Turning toward him completely, the pout on your lips makes him laugh. “But, Han… He didn’t….”

“No,” he wrapped an arm around you to pull you into his chest, “Don’t even worry about that, it wasn’t about us. It was about you.”

“And what does this mean… for us?” you flipped his words, raising your brows ever so slightly. The way his eyes flicker from yours for a moment makes your heart begin to sink, until he opens his mouth.

“Well, I thought we could go take a shower, like you said,” his gaze met yours, a smile pricking his lips. “And then, maybe, dinner? Just us?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, falling into him a bit more. “Would love that.” “C’mon,” Felix’s grin grew. Standing to his feet he holds a hand for you to take and leads you out of Chan’s studio and into the kitchen where the eldest and two youngest were sharing different foods in take out containers. Changbin appeared from around a corner with a beer in his hand, and when he spotted the two of you hand in hand he giggled.

“Finally,” he rolled his eyes, sliding into a chair beside Chan, and you aren’t sure if he’s talking about the sight of you and Felix acting closer than ever, or the amount of time it took for you to come out of the studio.

“Just passing through,” Felix tried to hide his smile. “Ignore us.”

“Thought you’d be in there all night,” Chan smirked, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. “Did I get what I asked for?” The way he eyed Felix made you want to cower behind his shoulders. Thankfully the other three pretended like they had no idea what he was talking about.

Felix paused to your dismay, leaving you under their perception for minutes longer than you had hoped. “Think you got a lot more than you asked for.” Seungmin cracked, snickering as he sipped a soda.

“Stop it!” you whined, and Seungmin shook his head, shooting you a crazed look.

“No!” he cried. “We all knew this was coming! We had bets!” Your jaw fell open. Jeongin confirmed, letting you know he had won. Seungmin owed him twenty bucks.

With a roll of your eyes as all of the boys laughed, you pointed your eyes at Chan and asked, “Where’s Han?”

Chan wore a smirk. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright, well we’re going to dinner,” Felix said, tugging on your hand to start toward his room.

“Another twenty!” Jeongin cheered, holding a hand open to Seungmin that the boy slapped away with a groan.

Felix rolled his head backward and laughed. “Did Minho eat? We can bring him something back… Where is he?”

Suddenly the boys' dinner became incredibly interesting, all of them glowering at their dishes, their lips tugging at the edges.

Chan bobbed his head, the smirk never leaving his smug face. “Don’t worry about it.”

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

support my art here! <3

#skz

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

a secret ~ hyunlix

summary: The in-between, after the live ends moments that Stay never gets to see.

words: literally 483

warnings: none atm, just hyunjin STARING at felix

a/n: This is the result of boredom and falling down the #hyunlix tiktok rabbit hole... :')

“Love you, Stay!” Felix sings happily to the camera in front of him, leaning forward to end the live. Hyunjin flops back into the couch cushions with a sigh, the bright smile dropping from his face in an instant- he hopes after the camera went off. He didn’t spend much time on the internet, but he did know Stay liked to analyze every emotion any one of them was feeling.

This was one he didn’t want to draw any attention to.

Felix, with his short black hair, turns over his shoulder catching a glimpse of Hyunjin pouting in the cushions. Laughing a bit, he scoots backward and flops directly next to him, bumping shoulders. With his back flat to the pillows, Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest and lays his head back, sneaking a look at Felix who was gazing at him with a smug smile.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asks at a decibel so quiet it makes his voice incredibly deep. Hyunjin’s eyes flicker to his lips as he speaks, igniting a small flame within him.

“It’s just,” Hyunjin begins, then watches Felix’s eyes soften as he preps himself to listen, and his train of thought goes off the rails, “Uh, I, I mean, Stay…”

Reaching a hand up, Felix tucks some of Hyunjin’s blonde hair behind his ear and laughs again once he sees what it does to the boy.

His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of Felix’s touch. A chill is sent down his spine, his body erupting with electricity in the most erotic way.

It was an indescribable feeling, though Felix has touched him before, when they were alone it was elevated to something much more special. Around the others it was playful, and brotherly, lighthearted and fun, however, alone it was heavy, slow, delicate and intimate. The world moved in slow-motion when they were by themselves.

Felix brushes the back of his fingers over Hyunjin’s cheek, then slips his hand beneath his chin to tilt him in his direction. Shifting on the cushions, Felix turns his body so he’s facing Hyunjin completely, tucking his socked feet underneath him.

Taking a deep breath, Hyunjin’s heart skips a beat, and suddenly he can’t seem to think about anything other than Felix. Felix and his soft skin, and his day old makeup around his eyes. His messy, short black hair that was once neat, and of course, his full, pink lips that were just calling out to him.

“I know,” Felix nods his head, narrowing his gentle eyes, “Stay and that stupid ship name,” Hyunjin is frozen beneath his touch, the only thing he can do is listen, “Hyunlix,” Felix smiles, “Of course they’re gonna flood the comments with it when it’s just us,” His smiles fades to a cheeky smirk, licking his lips before he whispers, “Wouldn’t it drive them absolutely mad if they knew they were right?”

#skz

212 notes · View notes

chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

public occurrences. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader

summary: It's been almost a year since Vegas. As one would expect, life hasn't gotten any easier. If anything it's gotten even more chaotic. The world knows who you are now... There aren't anymore secrets to hide.

words: 6k

warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS IN THE WARNINGS. use of cuss words, they talk of anxiety, some mental health situations, talks about a miscarriage, talks about Jin and other members leaving. other than that- not much else. If I missed anything PLEASE let me know.

a/n: CAN'T BELIEVE ANOTHER VEGAS IS HERE. Enjoy my loves. Thank you for all the love and support always. <3 It's just a short little drabble of one specific moment of time, but I thought it was pretty important.

~ the end of february 2023 ~

A dull pain begins to erupt where you’ve had your jaw clenched for the last twenty minutes. A soreness in your jaw you’re not quite sure will ever be able to go away. For the past few months it’s found itself in this compromised position.

Your entire body is made of steel, your joints creaking as you attempt to pull yourself together amidst the panic ensuing within your nervous system. Limbs heavy to the point you aren’t sure whether or not you’ll be able to exit the vehicle.

Breathe in, breathe out. The words repeat.

Breath in, breathe out. It made you want to sing Hobi’s song. Inhale, inhale, exhale, exhaaale. But there was no time for fun. Not when you were about to walk outside in front of cameras for the first time in eight years.

The morning was spent in a blur, the attempts to perfect your hair and makeup happening at an hour too early, much like how you rolled out of bed. An hour too early. You were awake before your daughter even had the chance to stir.

Anxiety had been simmering beneath your skin for weeks. You could barely eat, the nausea would rip through you violently. Again, for the past few months that’s how life has been, nausea, anxiety, melancholy thoughts and dreams, however this event seemed to be adding twice as much. These past few days you’ve probably accumulated a total of nine hours of sleep. You had more shuteye the week after your daughter's birth.

There seemed to be a butterfly effect from the events in Vegas. The incident that caused countless meetings and endless discussions because the company just couldn’t handle anymore media control or protection. You should never have trusted that girl.

BigHit took their time, the company drug out the announcement as long as they could so it would surpass Jin’s deployment and your goddamn wedding. Now, with it being the end of February, Yoongi’s been traveling absolutely everywhere for basketball games, photoshoots, and he’s announced a tour… It was about to happen. For the very first time in eight years you were officially about to be on camera, branded by flashes, posted online permanently, forever going to be seen and known as Min Yoongi’s wife.

Next to you, Yoongi grips your knee tight, in hopes to settle your worries. Glancing down to his knobby hand you sigh and suck in a deep breath.

“We’ll be fine,” he said softly. Meeting his comforting gaze, you attempt to smile, one that makes him laugh. “I promise. Remember everything we talked about?”

You do. Of course you do. It’s been playing on repeat for one hundred and sixty eight hours.

That’s how many hours are in a week. You had to google that.

When this entire plan was set in place you requested a play by play, a step by step tutorial- a rehearsal even! You were walking out into the public eye with your child for the first time. People knew who you were now.

There were going to be cameras, and fans, and paparazzi, and loud noises, and people rushing you, and standards to follow. It was all too much, it all seemed to be entirely too much. You were going to have a toddler on your hip, one who could barely stand to be in a room full of people her father worked with let alone god knows how many strangers at an airport.

“What happens first?” Yoongi asked, reaching for one of your hands to tangle his fingers with yours. He could feel your panic. “Tell me the first thing we’re going to do.”

Gulping, you respond, “Park.” Looking up at his short hair that you’re livid with- his long hair was dreamy, and sexy, and you could pull it- you receive another laugh. He hadn’t expected you to be so literal.

“Good, we’ll park,” he praised. “And then what?” Tipping his chin down his eyes widened a bit, becoming all the more endearing.

“Then, Branson and his team get out,” you said, feeling a bit better looking into his eyes. Yoongi gives you a soft smile, dragging his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Has Branson ever let you down?”

“Never,” you whispered. Almost nine incident free years with the man, after Yoongi, you depended on.

Your husband leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Exactly,” he said. “What happens next?”

Going through the last three simple steps, everything seemed ready to go to plan. Once Branson was ready, you were going to take your daughter out of her carseat, exit the car, and follow the men inside. You would be the one to carry your daughter, just in case. People were unpredictable in these situations, and Yoongi agreed that if something were to happen to him here, you should be the one to carry her inside. As much as that little comment terrified you to hear him say, he was right.

Simple as pie. You hoped.

In a perfect world that’s how it would happen, and you want nothing more than for this to go smoothly.

People knew your name. Everyone has found out that it’s been years. The company was prepared for mass destruction, and so were you and Yoongi. A first public appearance, this is where it would all go to shit. There isn’t much chaos people can fully ensue over the internet.

As for your friends, the two of you personally asked them to stay out of it and at the drop of a hat they agreed. The five boys and Sunny shook on it. No one would say a word publicly, no one would do any interviews, no tweets, no Instagram posts, no stories pushed, no Weverse comments. Silence. Radio silence.

Jin has most definitely heard what has happened, and the next time you and Yoongi get to see him, there will be tea to spill. Your heart aches whenever you think about him, especially for Yoongi. He’s had to go through this madness and so much more without his best friend.

The week after he left was complete and utter hell for your family. And not just because of Jin.

Pushing aside all thoughts of having to redo the motions with Hobi very soon, you come to realize that steps one and two of the plan have already commenced.

The black SUV was parked in front of the airport, and Branson and his team were setting themselves up. Through the dark tinted windows there are crowds upon crowds of people, masses of them so large one would think the entire band was here. It reminded you of a concert, they were all waiting in groups with their phones out, pointing them at the vehicles that you and your team were in.

Slapping your hand on top of Yoongi's, you grip it tight, digging your nails into his palm. He places his other right on top of yours.

“I can’t do it,” you mumbled, whipping your head to shoot him a terrified look.

Yoongi smiles, though your fear threatens to crack him. If this wasn’t ordered by the company he’d whisk you away to safety, getting inside the airport without a soul knowing. He’s broken these rules before, going against what his company wants for your sake, it’s been eight years of you coming first, you topping all things that have to do with his job.

Now that the gig was up, now that people knew who you were and knew that it’s been forever, he feels as though he owes it to his fans to do a three minute appearance. As much as he was deeply in love with you, he loved his fans almost as much. He wanted to show you off, he wanted the world to see who’s been keeping him sane all this time, who’s been the source of his happiness for years.

“Yanno, the last time you told me that you seemed to handle everything just fine,” he said, glancing at your sleeping daughter beside you. Blowing a gust of air through your lips, you roll your eyes.

“I didn’t have to do any work, D, they cut her out of me,” you grilled back, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t-” your words are cut off by a sudden short breath. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” escapes you in a whisper.

Branson taps his fist on the window a couple of times gently, signaling that he was ready for the three of you to come out. The murmurs from the crowds can be heard, leaking through the cracks in the doors, swarming around you constricting your chest.

Yoongi slips an arm around your back, holding you against him tight. Burying your face into his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and takes a deep breath. You can feel his beating heart steady between his lungs. This was just another day for him. He’s had ten years to grow used to this.

“I was afraid this was going to happen,” he said softly. Peeking up at him, you frown.

“What?” you question, lowering your brows. He nods a couple of times, giving you a small smile.

“I was afraid this was going to happen, because I knew this was going to happen,” he said.

“Me freaking out, right?” you sighed, your tone completely breathless. A soft hum leaves his chest as he ponders what you’ve said, then he shakes his head. “What?” you question again with more vigor.

“Well,” he huffs a gentle laugh, “I figured something along the lines of that would happen, but only ‘cause of her,” he nods to your daughter, “Not because you’re scared of going out there. You’re only worried for her. If it were seven years ago you think you’d feel this way?”

Shaking your head to answer him, the electricity coursing through your veins seems to subside.

“Exactly,” he smirked. “Before her you were dancing in the streets before my shows, you were talking to people, my fans! You were prancing around stadiums and concerts like it was nothing.”

“I loved doing that,” you smiled.

“Fuck yeah, you loved doing that,” he said, giving you the smallest shake. “And, you know what? It’s not just you going out there as my wife, right? They know what you’ve done for us, they know what you’ve made for us.”

Your smile starts to grow. He was right. The fans, the people, they loved your work. The music videos, the art, the TinyTan, the creative concepts, the photoshoots, all of it. They finally knew that it was you. The ghost creator had been unveiled.

“You probably have fans of your own,” Yoongi said matter of factly. “I guarantee you all these people are here for you, not me.” Frowning humorously, you make him laugh.

“Doubt that,” you said flatly.

“Alright, half and half,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We can do this, you can do this. We’re doing it together, like we do everything. We’ll get through this together. We always do. Just think, next time we see Jin we have to tell him all about this, he’ll never believe it.”

Averting your eyes from his, your mind is suffocated by the many, many things you’re going to have to tell Jin when you’re with him again, which you’re hoping is soon. So much has happened, so much has changed, and it’d only been about three months.

“Yeah,” you whispered, flickering your eyes up to Yoongi who’s flashing you a curious look. “He probably still thinks I’m pregnant.”

A flash of discomfort wrecks his expression for all of two seconds as he glances away from you with a breath. Swallowing hard, he relaxes his face and looks back at you, his lips pressed together tight.

“He, uh,” he began in a whisper, “He... knows.” Before you have a chance to say anything, the subtle shock on your face telling him plenty, he cuts you off. “I’m sorry, baby. I had to tell him, it’s Jin, that’s my best friend, he’s the only one I could even say the words to.”

Sitting up a bit, you reach a hand up to cup his cheek, dragging your thumb over his smooth skin. “D, it’s okay,” you reassured him, bobbing your head. His lips form a pout, one that gets you to giggle. “I promise, it’s okay.”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two of you, feelings swirling around the empty air as you both choose what to do or say next. Yoongi leans into you, kissing your forehead once more before placing his own there.

“You’re so incredible,” he said, watching you flutter your eyes shut. “The strongest woman I know, the most talented woman I know. On top of having such a beautiful, creative mind, you’re a fucking fantastic mother.” Yoongi pauses, taking a deep breath, as do you. “He was lucky to have you for as long as he did.”

A lump lodges in your throat. Scrunching your face, you shake your head, rubbing your forehead to his.

“Don’t make me cry,” you said, voice wavering with uncertainty.

“Cry?” a tiny voice speaks up from your right, a yawn of the same intensity coming out of her straight after. Popping your eyes open you share a small smile with your husband, and just as you’re about to turn to your little one, Yoongi slips a hand beneath your chin, holding you in place.

“Hey,” his voice is soothing. “I love you.” Your heart flutters.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, accepting the quick kiss he gives you.

Turning to the carseat that has secured a permanent spot in this car, you smile at your daughter who has her head turned toward you and her father. Her sleepy eyes entice a happy hum from you.

“You were supposed to sleep through this,” you said sarcastically sweet. Yoongi chuckles, unbuckling from his seat. The clang of the metal on the door makes your heart skip a beat.

“No,” your daughter said. “No sleep. All done.” Her voice is tiny, and slightly broken, and not hitting all of the right sounds, but her speech has only been improving. The two of you speak to her like she’s a human being, saving the baby voices for when she’s feeling silly, which can attest to her strong vocabulary and understanding of conversation.

You’re beginning to think she is a genius like her father.

“Mama, up,” she cooed, reaching out her arms that were finally starting to get a little chubby. Her cheeks had caught up to her as well, they were finally perfectly pinchable.

Freeing her from the car seats restraints, your daughter aids you in her escape, launching herself forward and up into your arms with a shout.

“Oh!” she giggles once her arms are around your neck and her face is buried in your hair.

“Oh!” you and Yoongi copy her, to which she responds with another shout.

Her attentive eyes point out the window when she sits herself up, tapping on your shoulder a couple of times with her palm. Lifting a hand, she tries to point at the crowds of people.

“Where?” she asked curiously, looking to either of her parents for an answer. Her voice turned you into a complete puddle, the sound coming out as ‘Wheh?’, the middle syllable is even more pronounced when she questions the two of you again.

Yoongi brings a hand to her forehead, brushing away a few dark hairs that fell into her eyes. The girl hated bows, you stopped trying.

“We’re at the airport,” he told her, and she listened with all of her might. “We’re going on a plane, isn’t that fun? You like flying.” Her eyes blink a few times, taking her time to process the words.

Sighing aloud, dramatically of course, she glances out the window and mumbles a jumble of sounds. Following her gaze, you gulp.

Eager eyes of bystanders attempted to shatter the glass of the tinted windows.

“Mama,” your daughter said, looking at you. “Go, Mama,” she bounced once. “Go,” she bounced twice. You knew the moment you stepped out into the noise and the flashing lights that she would have a meltdown, but you admired her desire to get out of the car. Yoongi was right, she loved flying, it was her second favorite thing right now. Securely at number one was Jungkook, for a year and seven months. That spot was unattainable for anyone else.

“Shall we?” Yoongi offered, watching you fiercely, letting you take the lead. He waited patiently for your answer, heaving a sigh of relief when you finally gave him a tentative nod of your head.

“Dada, go,” your daughter babbled. “Mama, go. Dada, go. Mama, go.”

Sharing a laugh with Yoongi, you take a long deep breath and tighten your grip around her back, holding her in front of your chest. Smiling at you, your baby touched a hand to your cheek.

“I love you,” you whispered to her. She leans her head toward you and puts her nose on yours.

“Ah-luh-oo,” she tried her best to repeat. Stealing a kiss from her, you let Yoongi press a thousand to her cheek to make her giggle, and then it’s time.

Everything seems to move in slow motion, your vision tunneling as your husband opens the car door. Pulling a mask over his face, he sends you a reassuring wink before he rounds the vehicle.

Screams erupt from every corner of the space, and shouting from the team can already be heard. Strict shouting, like things were getting crazy already. Your daughter’s eyes are wide as she looks out the windows and up at you. Her curiosity has been swapped for a little bit of fear.

You couldn’t let her see you panic.

Sliding off of the leather seat and onto the concrete of the airport lot, you pull a mask over your own face and instantly slip a hand to the back of your baby's head. Her legs were wrapped around your torso, and the moment you stepped outside her arms clung around your neck for safety. You already had a suspicion that you weren’t going to have to actively try to hide her face, she would want to do that herself.

Your bags were already taken care of, there wasn’t anything else you needed to grab from the car other than your child and yourself. Everything else would be taken care of for you.

With another deep, dramatic breath, you hold your daughter close, allowing her to bury her face into your neck, and you circle the car like Yoongi had. Upon rounding the back, cameras that were already flashing began to flash faster, quicker. Wide eyed and stunned by the greeting of screams, you barely have time to process anything before Branson grabs your arm.

It’s a gentle tug, one to help keep you on track. He pulls you close to him, staying one step ahead of you as you wait for a couple of seconds in front of the car. Glancing amongst the crowd, it’s mainly full of paparazzi and probably some journalists. Behind the tall men and their cameras you can see the fans, the ones holding up their phones and jumping up and down trying to catch a glimpse at the commotion.

Airport security guards held some people back, though no one seemed to be trying to push through excessively, which was your main fear.

“Another minute here,” Branson said to you, leaning into your ear. “They need photos, then we go.” Nodding, you peek down at your girl who was content clinging to her mother and hiding from the chaos. A sound of admiration rips through the crowd as you stroke her back, one that surprises you.

Up ahead, close to the doors, Yoongi was walking backward slowly, watching you. His fans twisted their heads side to side, from him, to you, and back again. To spice things up a bit, he gives you a wave, and everyone goes nuts.

You can’t help but laugh at him, eyes crinkling at the sides. For some reason you had thought he’d treat you differently when you were outside, but aside from following the rules, he was still your husband. He points to the baby on your chest and questions you with a thumbs up. Another giant ‘Awh!’ rolls through the chattering crowd.

Sending a thumbs up back, the fans laugh, and cheer. Then, your heart plummets to your stomach.

From somewhere within the crowd your name is shouted. And then again. Before you knew it, the entire crowd wanted your attention. Overwhelmed, feeling utterly insane, your eyes well up with tears. You're unable to make out anything else they’re saying though, there were too many people talking at once, and to you, that was a good thing.

God forbid anybody had anything bad to say. You’ve heard it before, but you don’t need to live it in real time.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled. Branson leans into you again, questioning what you’ve said. Turning to him, you smile and repeat, “Holy shit!”

“You’re okay?” he asked, gently putting a hand over your shoulder blade.

“I- I think so?” you said to him, raising your voice over the crowd that was only getting louder. Glancing down to your daughter who’s little fists were attempting to rip holes in your sweater, you send a look to Yoongi, and he stops walking all together. Bundled up in the safety of her mothers arms wasn’t enough for the baby, she needed to be out of this situation immediately. “Branson we have to go.”

“I don’t have the signal yet, we need Yoongi inside before we move forward,” he said. Frowning, you knew the man was just doing his job, but a cry from your daughter flipped a switch within you.

“We need to go,” you insisted, shooting him a glare. Cradling the back of her head, you press your masked lips to her hair and take a deep breath, hoping she’d feel as much of your love as possible.

“Go! Get him inside,” Branson spoke into the tiny walkie he carried on his chest, gesturing toward the door with persistence.

The crowd, now roaring, and growing larger, began to push. The barriers that were blocked by guards were spilling over the edge.

Branson placed a hand to the top of your shoulder and held onto you tight. Grabbing the little speaker, he spoke clearer. “We need to move forward, and we cannot do that if you cannot get him indoors.”

Up ahead your husband was watching you with a heated gaze. His attention didn’t deter from you once. His heart twisted when you cradled your daughter, when he saw Branson begin to get defensive. The hand that was placed protectively on your shoulder could make him scream, and the team behind him, calling after him to get him to step inside the airport made his thoughts fuzzy.

What the hell was he doing? Why would he ever allow the two of you, the most important people in his life, why would he allow you to do it alone? This was the very first time you’ve done this, and he’s realized now that he’s made the biggest mistake.

Forgetting everything he was told, everything he’s learned, Yoongi bounds toward you, using the fast paced walk that his fans clown him for. They absolutely lose their minds, the people around you.

Wide eyed and shocked, you’d never think he’d break the rules on this one, you sigh in relief when he reaches your side. An arm wraps around your shoulder, Yoongi closing you in front of his chest.

“What are you doing?” you asked, giving your head a small shake.

Your husband smiles, reaching up to pull his mask off of his face, removing yours as well.

“Not letting you do it alone,” he said to you, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. As you could’ve guessed, the collective lost their minds.

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” you smiled up at him, laughing as he dramatically rolled his eyes.

“You two are always worth it,” he said. “Now, c’mon,” he stepped aside to hold you behind your back, keeping you tucked beneath his arm. Using his other hand he rubbed the baby’s back and gave her cheek a quick kiss, happy to find that once he joined you two she had calmed down. “Let’s go see Kookie.”

Her head shot right up with enormous dark eyes full of stars. “Koo-hee?!”

“Koo-hee!” Both you and Yoongi copy her tiny voice, making her giggle with the silly smiles you flash at her.

The world around you seemed to melt away the second you were in your husband's arms, like all of a sudden you had the strength to handle anything the world would have thrown at you. His grip around your body as he walked with you into the airport was enough to silence the crowd, and power your legs to get through the doors without an incident.

A mere twenty minutes later, the three of you were seated on the plane, your daughter snoozing soundly on her fathers chest while you scrolled through your phone, curious to see what the internet has had to say of your appearance already. Resting his head on your shoulder, Yoongi followed along, making a sweet comment at every single photo of you.

“Oh, that one is the best,” he said quietly, your Twitter scroll stopping on a picture of the three of you before you walked off. The big, genuine, happy smiles you and Yoongi wore were priceless as you grinned at your baby girl, one whose face didn’t make it into any photos- thank the good Lord that somebody believes in. “You should post that one.”

Giving him a sideways glance, you huff a gentle laugh. “To my Instagram? It’s just gone public, you want me to blow it up even more?”

Yoongi tips his chin up, flashing you pouty puppy dog eyes. “I just want them all to know you’re mine. Both of you. I want everyone to know I’m yours, and I always have been.” You gave his forehead a kiss.

“Okay,” you nodded, “I’ll post it. Her face isn’t in any of these, so I can post as many as I want.”

Settling comfortably on your shoulder once again, Yoongi gave you caption advice for the post- an emoji that seemingly had nothing to do with the photo… But, you used it anyway. The angel emoji, with a halo and little wings.

“That one’s perfect,” he whispered, tapping on it for you.

“If you say so,” you smiled. Yoongi sat up a bit, carefully to not disturb his sleeping daughter. “You always pick the random ones.”

“Every single one I use means something,” Yoongi gazed at you fiercely. “That little guy,” he pointed to the angel, “That makes four of us.”

Your lips parted in surprise, unsure of what to say. That week in December devastated you both. Your stomach flips while you watch him study your face. The whirlwind life you live hasn’t given either of you proper time to process, or grieve.

“Baby,” he whispered, closing the space between you to touch his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to post it if you don’t want to.”

Sucking in a deep breath, your eyes welling with tears, you furrow your brows. “What did I do wrong,” escaped you in an exasperated gust of air. Yoongi shifted, wrapping an arm around your back.

“No,” he said, putting on his strong facade. “We don’t do that, we’ve talked about this. You know there wasn’t anything you did wrong. There wasn’t anything I did wrong. You heard the doctor say it, baby, multiple times. You gave him the perfect home, you’re healthy.” Yoongi paused to gauge where you were, praying that you were listening to him.

You respond after a few seconds, bobbing your head. Taking a deep breath, Yoongi swallows down the lump in his throat.

“It just wasn’t his time,” he whispered. “He wasn’t ready.”

“Yeah,” you whispered fast. Yoongi’s thumb found your cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen.

“And, you remember the last time we were there, they said we could try again whenever we were ready,” he said. The end of last month you had a check-up with your doctor, just to make sure things were back to normal, and that your body was holding up alright. Your second pregnancy was a surprise, much like the first, you and Yoongi haven’t seemed to learn your lesson. However, losing your son before you had even gotten the chance to hold him in your arms put a lot of things into perspective for the two of you.

There were routine check-ups, you were eating better- both of you! This second child was something that you and your husband both wanted, and though each of your emotions have been through the wringer… You would be willing to try again when you felt like you could handle it.

“I want to,” you whispered. Yoongi smiled, but you could see his own worries within it. “I know, I feel the same way.”

“Together,” he cuts off the nervousness quickly. “We’ll do it together.”

“Uh, we kinda have to,” you giggled, making him laugh.

“I can’t wait,” he sing-songed through clenched teeth with a grin, stealing a kiss from you. Yoongi backs away from you to check on your sleeping daughter who hasn’t made a peep. He was surprised she had let her eyes shut while she was beside the window, normally she’d be gazing out at the clouds passing by.

Picking your phone up off of your lap, you smile at the angel emoji and click post, letting the notifications flood in like wildfire. This was all brand new. You were allowed to make your Instagram public about a week ago, and since then you’ve reached four million followers, while you used to have forty-six. Silencing the notifications from the app, every photo you’ve ever posted amassed an incredible amount of likes. Your feed was a feast, and the public was hungry.

Four million followers and counting. The number was only going to get bigger.

Watching the photo gain twenty thousand likes whenever you refreshed the page, you nudged Yoongi’s shoulder to show him what was happening, and when he turned his head to look, an unknown number you’ve never seen before popped onto your screen, calling you.

“What the…” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes.

Yoongi snatched the phone from your hand and quickly snapped a photo of the screen with his own, then he silenced yours and went into it, blocking the number who tried to reach you. He called Branson over and showed him the photo, letting the head of security take his phone with him.

“Trace this, or, do something. Tell me who's number this is,” his voice is stern, on alert.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” you said, laying your head down on his shoulder. “People get scam calls all the time.”

“Not us,” he said, tone flat.

Not even ten minutes passed before Branson came back, kneeling on the row of chairs in front of your family. He placed his elbows on the head rests and took a deep breath, darting his eyes back and forth from Yoongi to yours.

“Well?” Yoongi asked. Branson handed him his phone and frowned.

“Uh,” he stumbled over a few words, unsure of how to say what he needed to say. “We, um… The phone number belongs to your mother.” His voice is hushed, quiet, like he was afraid to tell you, when in actuality he was afraid to tell Yoongi. Touchy subject. Especially now.

There had been a restraining order set in place since the day after your daughter's first birthday. Yoongi held the meetings and took care of everything, all you had to do was sign.

Neither one of your parents were allowed to contact you, speak to you or your daughter, or try to see you in person. They were not allowed to mail anything to you, send anyone to see you in place of themselves, nor were they allowed to be in touch with anyone close to you. Sunny included. You had to make a list.

Expecting him to jump out of his seat, you stretch a hand over his lap and grab his other hand, the one on your daughter's back. Sitting up, you turn toward him ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of his expression. It had not faltered. He was stone faced, and you were sick to your stomach.

“Sue her,” he said. Turning to you, he sighed. “We’re changing your number again.”

“D, come on, it’s not like-”

“I don’t care,” he said, peering down to admire his daughter. “She clearly hasn’t gotten the message that you don’t want anything to do with her.” He pointed his focus back to Branson. “Fight it. Do what you can.”

“Got it,” the guard said, and whisked himself away.

It’s quiet for a moment before Yoongi said, “Why are you defending her?”

“I’m not defending her,” you said, and he raised a brow, giving you a funny look. “It’s just… Super annoying to give everyone a new phone number for the third time.” Both your lips turn up into a smile. “Sue the bitch, I don’t care, D.” Yoongi laughs. “Just don’t make me change my number again, I beg of you.”

“Alright,” he said. “No new number. BUT!” His raised volume made your daughter stir. “One more thing happens, you’re changing it.” The little one lifted her head, blinking a few times before she grinned at her father.

“Fine,” you whispered, not that he was paying attention anymore anyway. Your daughter took his full focus, and all of his kisses.

It seemed silly to just now realize that today was something of a confirmation of the last eight years. Living your life, being a secret to millions of others, while you and the people you cared most about knew, was nice, and secure, and peaceful. But, now… Now that everyone knew, the peace grew. It swallowed you whole, engulfing you and your family with stability and ease.

No more accidental reveals. No more false stories. No more rumors the company had to shut down. No more hiding.

You were absolutely free, and for now, that was everything.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

support my art here! <3

vegas tags <3 (i realize on the last post i missed some of you, i'm so sorry.) <3

@jewelrnicorn @yoongisducky @all-american-fangirl @funkylittlebisexuall @ahewlett @damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place

#bts

483 notes · View notes

chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

simply one-derful. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader, and ot7 { couple from vegas, baby }

summary: It was incredibly ironic, your daughter sharing a birthday with her favorite person- besides her parents. Thinking her first birthday is going to be spectacular, an unexpected letter in the mail turns things upside down... Until your found family comes together to have an amazing night.

words: 7k

warnings: birthday blues (lets be honest we all get em), sex talk obvi, suggestive convo, grown adults partying, drinking, alcohol, readers bad parents are back, mentions of bad parenting, jikook warning bc I LOVE THEM If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

a/n: HI! Another Vegas series mini... I can't help myself. I love picking apart their life and putting it in writing. I adore being able to get to know them. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGKOOK AND BABY MIN! :) Yes, I know I'm posting a day early.

{ find the vegas, series here to get to know this couple some more }

~ September 1st, 2022 ~

“Here, D, oh my god,” You hand your babbling baby over to Yoongi who takes her with furrowed brows. He had literally just walked into the kitchen, ready to help you start setting up for the party, and you were already frustrated, storming out of his presence.

Holding his daughter in his hands like a football for a second, he flips her around and pops her on his hip, giving her a curious look.

“What’s wrong with Mom?” He asks quietly, “What’d you do?”

“Mama,” Your daughter says to him, patting his chest with her hands, “Ma, ma, ma,” She says to the beat of her tiny tapping hands. Yoongi chuckles.

“My little protégé,” He whispers so he knows you don’t hear him. You’re very adamant about your daughter becoming her own person, and Yoongi definitely agrees, but can’t help but feel like some of his genius was passed on to his little one.

“I like the song,” He says to her as she continues her tapping and babbling.

“Ma, ma, maaa,” She drags out, making him laugh. Walking around the marble counters, he spies a pile of mail next to the sink, one that hadn’t been there before.

“MA!” Your daughter shrieks, and Yoongi is quick to hush her.

“Something made Mom mad,” He says to her under his breath, looking through the mail for something that would trigger your, very rare, anger.

“Mah?” She questions, copying the sound of her fathers words, not even knowing what they even meant.

Tossing aside pointless letters and junk mail, he pauses as he catches the torn edge of a light pink envelope forcefully shoved within the pages of one of your magazines.

“Aha,” He says.

“Aha,” The baby on his hip copies him, clearly this time.

“You smartie,” Yoongi smiles at her, getting her to beam a partially toothless grin that reminded him of you. Her nose crinkles just like yours does.

Pulling the envelope out of the silky pages of Vogue, he flips it over and frowns as he reads the return label. Your daughter's name was written in the center of it in crisp cursive with your home address written beneath it in neat handwriting.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” He mutters, feeling his own blood start to boil.

The top of the envelope is torn open, so he assumes you’ve already opened and read it. Following suit, he uses the hand beneath his baby's bottom to pull the card out, tossing the envelope to the side without care.

Keeping the baby on his right hip with his good shoulder, he lifts the card up with his other hand, giving it a good look.

The front of it is frilly, pink and glittery. There’s two ballerina’s on either side of the script that read, “To a ONE-derful Granddaughter”, and Yoongi can’t help but huff a pathetic laugh. As expected, his daughter copies him.

“You got that right,” He mumbles to her, flipping the card open with his thumb. A one hundred dollar bill falls out of it onto the counter. Your daughter spots it and reaches for it, but Yoongi is quick to pull her away, telling her it was dirty and that she wasn’t allowed to touch it.

Eyes scanning the kind of cute message the card came with, he reads what’s written at the bottom and audibly expresses his fury with a groan.

‘Happy Birthday to the sweet little girl who made us Grandparents. One year ago today we had no idea that our lives would change this way. We weren’t expecting you. Life is full of surprises and we’re definitely sure you were one of them. Here’s to hoping one day we meet. Until then, chin up, work hard, make us proud, and Happy Birthday!’

It was signed by your parents.

Yoongi wanted to scream. He wanted to scream so loud that your parents would hear him, but he kept quiet. He kept quiet for you.

It wasn’t ever Yoongi’s idea to share things with them. It wasn’t his idea to give your parents the address to your home, and it never once crossed his mind to tell them that you two have even had a fucking child together.

They’ve never even met him before, they barely had an idea of who their daughter was sharing her life with. You used to make jokes together about how one Google search could expose you to the masses, but they didn’t care enough to even do that.

He never put up a fight for your sake.

Though you both share the same feelings and festering bitterness for the people who brought you into this world, he never held you back from reaching out to them. Sure, he’d share some thoughts, instill some kind of warning in case you didn’t get an answer, or one you weren’t ready to hear, but other than that, he kept quiet.

He’d rather be there for you when they weren’t instead of getting in your way and sparking an argument right off the bat.

You must’ve opened this and read it before he came down from his office, no wonder you hustled out the way you did.

“Baby?” Yoongi calls out to you, wherever you ended up.

“Baaaaay?” Your daughter shouts just as loud, pulling the card that was inevitably for her out of his hands. She flips it over a couple of times before figuring out how to open it up, acting like she was reading it.

“This is no time to be funny, miss,” Yoongi laughs softly, whispering to her before snatching the card from her little hands.

“Hey, baby?” Yoongi tries again, shoving the card back into the envelope, money and all. His fingers are left with tiny pieces of pink glitter all over them.

“Yes, dear?” He hears from the foyer of the house, followed by the closing of the front door. Your daughter looks at her father curiously at the sound of a new voice, trying to place it within her small aray of people she knew and remembered.

“We’re in here, Kook,” Yoongi says, starting for the doorway. Meeting him at the threshold, wincing as your daughter screeched at the sight of her Uncle Kookie, he hands her over to the man who was wearing a grin three sizes too big. Kicking her feet like crazy, she instantly cuddles up into his chest, her own special way of giving people a hug.

“Happy Birthday, little goofball,” Jungkook kisses the top of her head and rocks her side to side. She looks up at him with a smile and babbles a few meaningless words to him.

“Think she just said it back,” Yoongi tilts his chin to the side, and squints his eyes, getting Jungkook to laugh. “Seriously though, Happy Birthday brother.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook cheeses again, then glances over Yoongi’s shoulder, “Where’s the wife?” He asks, looking forward to seeing you. Yoongi gives his eyes a roll and sighs.

“She’s not my wife yet,” He whispers.

“So?” Jungkook scoffs, “Close enough.”

“We’re engaged, Kook,” Yoongi says a little more cautiously.

“She’s so weird for this,” Jungkook smiles as he shakes his head, “It’s close enough, why does she find it weird for me to call her your wife?”

“Why?” Your daughter, who was contently laying against Jungkook’s chest, perks up and copies the last syllables he spoke that she could say. He looks down at her and widens his eyes.

“Exactly,” He says to her, and Yoongi laughs.

“I, uh, I don’t know where she went,” He says, watching his daughter lift a hand to point at Jungkook's lip ring, touching it with care. Using his tongue to make it move side to side, she’s mesmerized, pointer finger stuck in the air.

“There’s a card from her parents on the counter,” Yoongi’s words make the youngest freeze, only his eyes flickering up to give him a look, “I know,” Yoongi rolls his eyes in agreement to Jungkook’s unspoken opinion on the matter, “They sent money and everything. There’s a message in it, it’s totally backhanded, I just… Kook, it’s so fucked they’d do this.”

“Is there a return address, I swear to… Where is it?” Jungkook asks, “You said on the counter?” Nodding, Yoongi sighs.

“Want me to take her?” He holds out his hands to his brother, offering to take his daughter back. Shielding her away from her own father, looking subtly offended, Jungkook shakes his head.

“Uh uh, this is our day,” He says, and brushes past Yoongi, heading straight into the kitchen, “Now, when I need to throw a punch, you can take her back.” Jungkook says a bit louder. Yoongi can hear the shuffle of the paper, and the opening of the card, so he hurries to the stairs to avoid Jungkook's initial reaction.

Trekking up the carpeted, dual level stairs, Yoongi peers into every open door in the upstairs hallway. You aren’t in your bedroom, the bathroom, the guest room, or his office, so his only other option was your daughter's room, but her door was shut.

Stepping in front of it, he drums two fingers on the wood to let you know he was coming in.

“Hey, you in here?” He asks softly, turning the knob, pushing the door to the sage green bedroom open, finding you sitting in front of your baby’s chestnut wooden crib with your legs tucked into your chest.

Side eyeing him, you sigh heavily and point your focus forward on the matching dressers and changing table.

Yoongi shuts the door behind him, standing against it for a second in the silence of the comforting room. Her walls were decorated with pictures of her and her family, and adorable works of art with the sweetest messages on them that you had designed yourself. In fact, you had mapped out her entire room on an app five months into your pregnancy, and Yoongi, always on your side, found a way to make it happen.

Coming closer, he sits down on the floor beside you and leans his back on the wood, looking over at you. Your eyes were lifeless, and that told him more than he needed to know. He waits for you to say something first, a couple of minutes going by before you do.

“Jungkooks here?” You half ask, keeping your eyes on the furniture.

“He is,” Yoongi’s voice is gentle.

“Baby’s happy then,” You mumble, acting like she hadn’t been happy as a clam all morning, making his face screw up in confusion.

“She’s always happy,” He objects, tone growing stronger. Glancing to your lap, you take a deep, shaky breath. Yoongi watches a tear slide down your cheek.

“Is she?” You ask just above a whisper. Throwing his hands out in front of him, he’s ready to go off, but stops himself. Instead, he closes his hands into fists and places them on his knees, reminding himself where this new, sudden thought was stemming from. The rotten woman who put that card in the mail.

“She’s happy,” He says, “The happiest goddamn baby I’ve ever seen,” He pauses, hoping something he says is going to fix this, “You know why she’s as happy as she is?” You finally look up at him, your teary eyes wrecking his heart, “‘Cause she’s got a badass mom.” Reaching over, he wipes away the tear that had fallen and gives you a smile.

“I sent them a message two weeks after she was born,” You say, “Two weeks,” Yoongi nods, listening wholeheartedly, “They got her name, her stats, the date, that’s it. Not a picture, not a where, not a how, not a who with,” Your voice falls into a whisper, “They didn’t even ask me anything, D. I didn’t get a, how’re you doing, how’re you feeling… Not even a, how’s the baby?” Reaching up for one of his hands, he’s quick to snatch it up, holding it over his chest.

“I remember,” He says, encouraging you to continue.

“They didn’t answer the text,” You shake your head, your face twisting up in shock, “I gave them vague ass information, and they still didn’t ask me a single question. It’s been a YEAR! And not a single, fucking, question. They haven’t asked to see a photo- I could be lying!” Pressing your other hand to your chest, you start to laugh at the thought of you faking an entire child just to get your parents attention. Yoongi takes a deep breath, letting you feel everything you need to feel at this moment.

“I could be totally lying to them,” You shake your head again, “‘Life is full of surprises we’re definitely sure you were one of them’, get out of here with that load of bullshit,” Squeezing Yoongi’s hand, you give him a look and shrug your shoulders, “They’re right though, she wasn’t planned. She was a total surprise. They expected something like this to happen, that’s how irresponsible they think that I am.”

“Hey, wait, not irresponsible,” Yoongi tried to negate, holding up his other hand. Shooting him another look, he blows air from his lips and rolls his eyes.

“Was our daughter a surprise? Yes. Was it irresponsible? Mmm, maybe. Do we regret it? Not a chance. Are we secure enough that the weight of having and caring for a child hasn’t broken us? Yes,” He’s slowly starting to get fired up, but when it came to your parents, you only seemed to listen to Yoongi when he spoke up like this, and it wasn’t often, “Surprises happen to married couples all the fucking time, babe. Do people act like they’ve committed a crime? No! How are we any different?”

“We’re not,” You mumble.

“Damn right, we’re not,” Yoongi states, “I’ve been in love with you for eight years, if we want to have babies, we’re going to have babies. They don’t even know us. I’m not going to let two pot-stirring, old, decomposing assholes dictate how you feel about your life anymore.”

“Decompos…” You whisper, then finally laugh.

“Yeah, now that I’m mad you finally laugh,” Yoongi sighs, groaning straight after, “You’re done with them.”

“Decomposing!” You say louder, falling into his side while you belly laugh. Taking deep breaths, Yoongi drags a hand through his hair trying to relax.

“I’m serious, baby,” He says in a softer tone, “Restraining orders, we’re done with them. They’re not messing with her. Shit, I wanted to do this years ago so they’d stop messing with you.”

Hearing the sincerity in his voice makes you calm down. The two of you share a look, a deciding look, one that you nod in agreement to confirm. He’d move mountains for his girl, you’re positive that he’d catch a felony without thinking twice if it meant he was protecting her.

“I’m sure they only sent it to mess with me,” You offer to calm his nerves about his daughter, “But, yeah. I’m done. I’ve been done. A year ago was the last time I even tried anyway, so, how fitting that we end it around the same occasion.” Tilting your head side to side a bit, you sarcastically shake your hand in his to show some sort of celebration.

“I am sorry it happened though,” Yoongi whispers. Shrugging once more, you look in his eyes and smile.

“At this point I’m usually not affected like this, I don’t know why this got to me,” You say, glancing around the room, “I should’ve just thrown it away.” Yoongi presses his lips together in a smile.

“I know why,” He says, getting your attention back, “‘Cause you're a badass mom,” He repeats himself now that you actually hear him, “And you care about that girl more than I’ve seen you care about anything else in this world.”

“I do,” You barely say, “I really do,” A tear pricks at your eye, “I love you just as much, D. Life is so much better because of you.” Blinking away tears that welled in his own eyes, Yoongi smiles as he leans over to give you a few short, sweet kisses.

“Hey! Am I burning this shit for birthday card, or what?” Jungkook shouts up the stairs.

“Wha!” Your daughter shouts after him, getting you and Yoongi to laugh on each other's lips, “Mama!” She shouts loud and clear, beckoning you to come down the steps.

“You’re wanted,” Yoongi raises his eyebrows cheekily, “She doesn’t yell for me like that.” Giving him a genuine smile, you both stand to your feet after sharing another kiss and emerge from your daughters room together.

Appearing at the top of the stairs, she sees you and shrieks, wiggling around like a worm in Jungkooks arms.

“Ahhh,” He sighs theatrically, “Mrs. Min Yoongi, nice to see you.” Coming down the stairs with Yoongi behind you, you just know that he’s signaling for Jungkook to shut up. It used to rub you the wrong way, being addressed as such before you’re formally married, but, now… It felt like relief.

“Oh, yes,” You nod, holding open your arms for your girl to climb into once you're on the bottom stair, “Get rid of my last name, please.” You laugh, then wrap your arms around your little one who’s cuddled into your chest.

“Really?!” Jungkook looks excited, looking to Yoongi behind you triumphantly.

“Really,” Yoongi confirms with a single nod, officially addressing the end of your affiliation with your parents.

“Koo-hee, ma, ma, ma, Koo-hee, ma, ma, ma…” Your daughter starts to babble in a pattern, making you all look at her. She was laid on your chest over your heart, with a hand on your shoulder messing with your bra strap.

“I love this song,” Jungkook jokes, pumping a fist in the air to the beat she was babbling to. Smiling, you turn to look at Yoongi who was so clearly biting his tongue.

“Say it,” You mutter.

“Protégé!” Yoongi nearly shouts, thrusting his hands out at his sides.

By nine thirty that evening your home was still buzzing with life. Shortly after Jungkook arrived and Yoongi talked you off the ledge, the other five guys showed up one by one. Except Jimin and Taehyung, they came together.

With the ample pairs of hands eager to help out, the party was set up in a half an hour, and your girl was constantly occupied by an uncle who showered her in love. Sticking with a neutral theme- you and Yoongi hated stereotypes- different shades of green were used in the decorations, much like the sage green of your daughters bedroom walls.

A giant golden balloon in the shape of a number one was tied to the back of her high chair, a wooden one that matched all of the furniture associated with her. You wouldn’t say you were neurotic about her things, but anyone who took a look around your house would say otherwise. Everything matched, everything followed a theme, everything followed a color scheme.

It was no surprise to the guys when they saw her first birthday would be the same.

The first guests arrived when you had taken your daughter upstairs to change, a couple members of the team you were all close with. Putting your girl into a pastel yellow jumper with three brown buttons down the top, and matching sandals, you decide to skip a bow or a headband knowing she’d just rip it out the moment she was downstairs. She looked absolutely adorable, and she surely was the life of the party.

Throughout the rest of the day people came in and out, stopping by to express their love, or sticking around for a couple of hours to have a good time with good people.

After rounds of food, and a smushed birthday cake courtesy of your one year old who couldn’t wait until the song was over to dig into the dessert, everyone that was left this evening was your little family, six cool uncle’s, and, of course, Sunny.

“Can I turn this off?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, asking you from the arm of the couch he was sitting on across the room. He was gesturing to the speakers mounted to the wall in the living room that had music from a party appropriate Spotify playlist playing.

Sitting on the edge of the couch with your elbows on your knees and a bright blue maraca in your hand, you give him a small smile and nod. You knew his skin was crawling as soon as you pressed shuffle earlier. Now with all of the other guests gone and just the main crew around, he finally had the courage to ask.

“Here she comes!” Jimin says in a silly voice from the floor in front of the couch. He was sitting criss-cross between Jungkooks legs. The youngest was leaning forward, all of his body weight on top of Jimin with his arms wrapped around his shoulders and his chin nestled into his neck.

They were on the sofa across from you, the one Yoongi was just perched on, giving you a front row seat to the bullshit they tried with all of their might to deny. It came out in places like this, private places. Neither of them were overly touchy-feely if they knew they were on camera, which most of their lives were. Here they were in a safe space, one where they could be themselves.

Their eyes were on your daughter who was standing up on her own, gripping the coffee table with everything she had. Her steps were slow, but she tried her best to teeter closer to the boys, because like you, Jimin had the other blue maraca in his hands.

“She’s comin’, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook grins, making a face at your baby to encourage her.

“You want this?” Jimin asks, holding up the toy, giving it a shake. The sound that comes from it makes her shriek and bounce her knees, getting the audience around her to laugh.

“I’ve heard her scream more today than I ever have,” Hoseok’s eyes go wide as he nudges your shoulder, sitting right beside you. Sucking in a dramatic breath, you release as you look at him and nod slowly.

“It’s her favorite thing,” You say in a positive tone, but then cross your eyes to show your sarcasm, and he laughs, “Screaming, and copying you. She picks up on sounds quick, she’ll repeat them back almost perfectly.”

The music paused, making your daughter freeze and look around the room with suspicion. The only thing that could be heard was Sunny’s quiet chatter with Jin and Taehyung on the couch next to the one you and Hobi were on.

“Oh, she likes the music, it stopped,” Hoseok comments softly, tapping you again. Smiling, you nod.

“We always have something playing, she’s a music fien,” You say, and Jungkook agrees.

“She’s gonna be like her dad, I swear,” He says, giving you a teasing look. Dropping your jaw, you can’t away fight the smile that peeks onto your face. You would admit, your daughter being as talented as her father would be pretty awesome.

“She’s going to be whoever she wants to be, Kook,” You say calmly, getting a little smirk from him. He knew the rules, he just liked to push them- he learned that from you.

From the speakers, a beat starts to play causing a small roar to roll through the room out of everyone. A giant smile appears on your daughter's face as she starts to bounce her knees and slap the table with her hands. Taehyung sits forward, out of Sunnys arms, and dances with your girl, making her giggle. His head was bobbing in time with her slaps, and she was eating it up.

“Tee,” She stops to say, lifting a finger, pointing it at him. Taehyung makes a surprised face, acquiring another giggle, and puts his hands over his chest.

“Me?” He shakes his curly black hair around dramatically. Hobi, watching the scene in front of him, reaches for your wrist and squeezes it, making sure you were watching too.

“Tee! TEE!” Your daughter shouts, then resumes her bouncing to the music. Taehyung pouts his bottom lip and looks over at you.

“Tee,” He repeats, “It never gets old.”

Though there were complications after her birth, your daughter didn’t let it stop her from progressing and hitting every milestone she should be with flying colors, walking, talking, dancing, singing, and making beats apparently. She was tiny, but mighty.

She took her first two steps on her own just a few days ago. Fresh out of the bath, in her diaper, in her room, you and Yoongi were laid down on the floor on opposite sides of the carpet making her crawl back and forth between you. Giggling and babbling like crazy, because you could never get her to shut up, she was having the time of her life. Avoiding bedtime was always a blast- and something that happened often.

Yoongi was the one to pull her up to her feet, making her stand on her own for a few seconds assuming she’d plop down to her bottom like she usually would. However, your little powerhouse never let you know her next move, and she barrelled forward on her feet twice before she nearly toppled over. Yoongi lunged forward to catch her, mouth agape, staring at you in shock.

Profanities were shouted that made your daughter cackle as she shoved her fingers in her mouth. With tears welling in your eyes, you crawled over to their side and you praised her together, cursing yourself for not getting it on video. Laying in her fathers lap, gnawing happily on her thumbs, her eyes were full of utter love as she watched Yoongi kiss you on the cheek, and the two of you share laughs together.

“Do I know this song?” Jimin asked the collective, glancing around at everyone in the dimly lit living room. Taking a second to listen, there were a couple vague answers thrown out, but Namjoon was ready to start a discussion over it. That was until your daughter let go of the table and plopped down on her bottom, making everyone react with a playful sound.

“Whoops!” Came from Hobi, and a, “That hurt,” Came from Jimin.

“Oh, no, she doesn’t care,” You say with zero reaction to your daughter toppling over. Your expression didn’t even change, your daughter was like Rocky, no matter how many times she’s fallen over or scared herself, she would get right back up again. “I think the first time she fell while trying to walk, she laughed at herself,” You smile at her as she looks over at you from the floor, “Talking about you, you tiny psycho. She’s fearless.”

The group fell into a discussion regarding Jungkook, and how he compared to your daredevil of a child. When Yoongi stepped back into the room, Jin was quick to crack a paternity test joke, one that Yoongi laughed at. Spotting your daughter crawling on the floor toward Taehyung, Yoongi swooped around the couches and scooped her up, suffocating her with kisses to her cheeks.

“Boys… Sunny,” He gave your best friend a sweet smile, “This is mine.” He flashes them a gummy smile and squishes your girl's cheek against his, giving them a clear side by side of how she was his little twin. Her feet started to kick to the beat of the music, another indication that she was Yoongi’s.

“Wait, baby, what is this song?” You ask him in a hushed voice, letting your friends continue their jokes. Yoongi’s smile is smug for half a second until he gives your daughter a look, then holds her out to you. “I swear I’ve heard this before, is this new?”

“Not new,” He huffs, and you take your girl from him, “This song? It’s how you got that,” He winks, pointing to the baby bouncing on your knee. Feeling your cheeks turn pink, you turn your chin to see if anyone heard what he said, and without a doubt, they all heard him.

“Gross,” Jimin sneers with a grin.

“See, I wish you didn’t say that, I hate it now,” Namjoon says so calmly that it makes Sunny and Jin cackle.

“Wait,” Taehyung speaks up, “What’d he say?” Looking at Sunny, he listens as she gives him the play by play, then when it clicks he gasps, “This is your sex song?!” Another round of laughter rips through the room.

On your lap, your daughter copies the gasp she heard while she puts her left thumb in her mouth. Yoongi, who’s wearing a wicked grin, shakes his head shamefully and sits back down on the arm of the couch next to Jimin and Jungkook. The two boys, still tangled up around one another, were cracking jokes left and right mostly about the days you and Yoongi used to have.

“Oh, we wouldn’t find you guys for HOURS!” Jimin exclaims, holding onto Jungkook’s arms tight, “Even when we’re about to go onstage it’s… Uh oh, where’s Suga, where is he?”

“And we’d know EXACTLY where you were!” Jungkook answers the questions himself, swatting an arm at Yoongi’s legs.

The volume in the room grew louder, Sunny now antagonizing the boys with more stories about overheard phone calls and times when the two of you would have to travel back and forth from the group. Trying your best to counteract and defend, the blush of your cheeks wasn’t doing a thing to help your case. You and Yoongi were helpless when they came at you guys like this, it was undeniable.

“Maaa,” Was sung softly from your lap, your baby girl curling up into a ball against your stomach. Looking down at her, you smile and tilt your chin. Her eyes were getting heavier with each passing minute, the noise in the room not affecting her tiredness. She was used to falling asleep around the buzz, it was almost a regular thing for her since being able to travel way back in Vegas.

“My baaaby,” You sing back, lifting a hand to squish her cheeks together, “Are you sleepy?” You ask, raising your brows. Your daughter doesn’t babble back to you like she normally would, instead she keeps sucking on her thumb, each blink she takes getting longer and longer.

From the corner of your eye you can see Yoongi watching you, his head having tilted a bit when yours did. A bout of laughter sounds through the room, Tahyung must’ve opened his mouth again, and the noise still had zero effect, she didn’t even jump. Giving your fiance a look, you smirk.

“Miss FOMO needs to go to bed,” You say quietly. Yoongi looks surprised, rising to his feet to come to your side.

“Really? With Jungkook in the room?” He jokes, and reaches down to scoop her up. Within seconds she’s laying her head down on her fathers shoulder and gripping the collar of his shirt with a tiny fist. The other is wrapped around his back, holding on tight. It was like she knew which shoulder was the bad one, she always wanted to lay on the left, and cuddle with him there.

Adjusting the legs of her jumper, you tap her bottom and smile at Yoongi, unknowingly grabbing the attention of everyone in the living room.

“Aw, birthday girl leaving us?” Sunny asks.

“Wait, don’t go, let me kiss her,” Jungkook says in a hurry, jumping to his feet. He nearly trips over Jimin, about to land headfirst on the coffee table as he rushes over to Yoongi to say some quiet words to your daughter who gave him the biggest smile.

“Yeah,” You fake pout, meeting all of their eyes, “I’m surprised, she can usually party all night.”

“Sometimes we’ll be up until like two in the morning,” Yoongi agrees with you, rolling his eyes, “It’s just been a long day, right?” He says to your girl, kissing her on the cheek.

“Ugh,” Sunny groans, making a face like she was in pain, “It’s too cute,” She says, looking over at you, “Make it stop, please.” Laughing with a breath, you rub Yoongi’s back and nod.

“Come on,” You say just for him, and start toward the stairs. There’s a chorus of sweet goodbyes that follows you to the doorway.

“Want me to have a drink ready for you when you come down?” Sunny calls after you. Whipping around with wide eyes and a silly smile, you nod maniacally and she points at you with confirmation.

Yoongi changed her, Yoongi dressed her, but Yoongi let you feed her and put her in her crib. That was the nighttime routine, you were always the one to feed her.

She never latched in the hospital back when she was born, so there wasn’t a need for tricky transitions from breastmilk to formula, or other forms of feeding her… But, Yoongi knew how much it meant to you to have that kind of bond with her, it was hard when she couldn’t, and almost refused to try to breastfeed. So he lets you give her her bottles, almost every time.

In the dark with her door cracked open, you could hear the low chatter of your friends and the pulse of the music playing, now something off of Hoseok’s new album. It was like it was a lullaby for her because it didn’t even take ten minutes to rock her to sleep.

“Oh, she’s exhausted,” Yoongi whispers, pinned to your side as you lay her down on the pale peach sheets, covering her with a small, thin blanket gifted to her from Jungkook for her birthday last year. It was her favorite blanket.

Turning your head to look at him, you sigh. Your eyes flicker to his lips, and like a magnet, yours were drawn to him in seconds. Facing him, you slip your arms around his shoulders and take a deep breath, releasing it when your lips part. Yoongi lifts his chin to kiss your forehead as you lower your head with your eyes shut.

“Can we just go to our room,” You whisper, and he laughs, “She’ll be our excuse, we can be quick, they’ll never know.” Yoongi brings a finger beneath your jaw and lifts it so your eye level with him.

“They’ll know,” His tone is flat, making you laugh this time, “They always know.” Sighing heavily, you gaze at him happily, feeling incredibly grateful in this moment to be blessed with a fiance unlike any other, and to share a little mini that was each half of you.

His eyes are full of just as much love as he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose, and when he opens his mouth to speak, you think it’s going to be something sweet. Instead, it’s something that nearly makes you howl with laughter.

“When are Jungkook and Jimin gonna cut the bullshit?” He asks with utter seriousness. Biting down on your bottom lip as you hold in the sound you’d like to make, you shake your head.

“I thought the same thing,” You whisper, your shoulders bouncing, “Maybe if we get them drunk they’ll crack.” Narrowing your eyes with suspicion, Yoongi’s widen with a smile.

“It’s Kook’s birthday,” He whispers back, “Let’s go get them obliterated, I need them to say something.”

For another two and a half hours your friends stayed and made absolute fools of themselves. Your daughter's room was right above the kitchen, so the party was contained to the living room, the space turning into a mess the moment everyone was two drinks deep.

Ever since Vegas when you told Sunny you never drank in front of your little one, everybody started to follow that rule out of respect for you and Yoongi. Drinks were had once she was asleep, or when she wasn’t around attending an event with you, so once your feet hit the hardwood in front of the steps, Sunny was shoving a glass of wine into your hands.

For a while you were entertained by Hobi and Jungkook, the two of them dancing to the songs Yoongi was playing. He was playing BTS on purpose, tricking them into doing choreography, old and new, depriving Jungkook the satisfaction of performing That That for everybody.

Sitting on his lap, tucked into his chest with a drink in your hand, his arms were wrapped around you so you had a clear view of his phone screen. Scrolling through the group's discography, you tapped on Dark & Wild and played War of Hormone, cutting off the modest Permission to Dance choreo. Both boys froze and snapped their heads to glare at you with utmost shock.

“NO!” Jungkook shouts, twisting his eyebrows together as he glances around the room to study the music. He was still holding the pose from where he was interrupted.

“Come on, Golden Maknae!” You giggle, and with his smile he pulls a look of worry.

“I’m drunk!” He argues, turning to Hoseok who was only walking through the dance, “See! It’s old, he doesn’t remember it either!” Gesturing to his dance captain wildly, Jungkook’s eyes boggle toward you.

“Ah!” Jimin and Taehyung both grumble from the floor, leaping onto their feet. Hurrying behind the two struggling to piece together old memories, the best friends sing along and start dancing perfectly.

“How can you forget!?” Jimin says to Jungkook, glaring at him. The youngest eyes him up and down, not even hiding the fact that he just checked him out.

“I don’t,” Jungkook pouts, bouncing his knees once in protest. Jimin shakes his head as he dances, grooving closer to the boy in front of him, teasing him a bit.

“Come on birthday boy,” Jimin winks, reaching his hands out to tickle his sides. Stumbling backward, Jungkook laughs and pushes his hands away. Like it was a cue to get away, Taehyung stops his dancing and grabs Hoseok’s arms, tugging him to the couch so the other two boys were the focus.

“Here we go,” Jin sighs, putting a hand on Sunny’s thigh. She was still nestled into his side, having been there nearly all day. Looking at them over your shoulder, you smile.

“It’s gonna happen,” You mouth, and she grins.

“You’re going to allow this?” Namjoon asks Taehyung, looking at him over top of Hobi’s head. The two had toppled onto the couch next to him, watching the boys eagerly. It was like their superbowl. Taehyung scowls at him.

“‘Course,” He says quietly. No one wanted to disturb the two who were in the middle of a fist fight right now. “They’re made for each other.”

His words make you smile. You’ve heard that one before.

A couple of minutes roll by with Jungkook and Jimin messing around with one another. It took them some time to realize the room had grown quiet and that they were being watched. They noticed when Jimin was holding behind Kook’s head with his fingers knitted in his hair. Jungkook had his arms lazily around Jimin’s waist as they peered to the side at the audience taking them in. You can only imagine the way everyone was gazing at them, waiting with anticipation for it to go down.

Not a word was shared, nor was there a change of expression. You were the last one that Jungkook looked at, and when he saw your tiny smile and hopeful eyes, he knew.

They turned to one another at the same time, closed the air between their bodies and, finally, kissed each other.

Anyone else would've thought it literally was the superbowl with the way every single one of you cheered. Arms were thrown in the air, drinks were spilled, it was like celebrating the end of a war.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around Jimin's waist tighter, towering over the boy, tipping him backward as they kissed before parting with a smile that was miles wide. Jimin, laughing like crazy, placed his hands to either side of Kook’s face and shook his head slowly. He bit his lip and looked over at all of you going crazy.

“You guys are cute,” He says, taking a deep breath turning back to Jungkook who was starting to laugh, “They think that’s the first one.”

“What!” Comes out of everyone’s mouth, and the happy cheering goes sarcastically sour. Taehyung however was wearing a devious grin, looking at his friends with glee.

“You knew this?” Jin shrieks, and Sunny shouts something of sort. Hobi pushes Taehyung off of him and joins in Sunny’s shouting while Namjoon looks over to you and Yoongi with wide eyes.

As chaos ensues, there’s a sound from the baby monitor on the coffee table that makes your heart sink.

“Fuck,” You mutter, sitting forward to grab it. Leaning back on Yoongi’s chest, laying your head against his cheek, you bring the monitor up to your ear and hear your baby whining. Peeking at the screen, you can see she’s kicking her legs and rubbing her face with her hands.

“I’ll get it,” Yoongi says to you. Taking the monitor out of your hands, Yoongi scoops you off his lap as he stands to his feet and plops you on the couch where he was just sitting, dropping the monitor back on your lap.

“You sure?” You ask, crinkling your brow, subtle guilt stirring in your chest. Lowering his, he leans over and kisses you quickly.

“Yes,” He whispers, then gestures to the glass in your hand insinuating he knew he needed to do this, “Make sure Hobi and Jin don’t murder Tae.”

It’s impossible for you to focus on anything else, though. The moment your fiance is upstairs you’re all ears listening to him talk to your daughter with the sweetest tone. Your eyes are glued to the screen, watching him take her out of the crib and wander around the room as he bounces her to lull her back to sleep. He glances at the tiny camera a couple of times, and in the tiny black and white screen you can see him grow a smug smile. Though he couldn’t see you, he knew you were watching him.

Pressing kisses to her cheek once she’s back to sleep, he lays her down slowly, afraid to wake her, and once she’s out of his arms he leans toward the camera and gives you a goofy smile.

“Creeper,” He says, then laughs at himself, making you chuckle, “I love you,” He blows you a kiss, then his voice lowers to a dangerous tone, one that could lead to you make another one of what he just put back to sleep, “Sneak up here.”

It was your daughter's birthday, Jungkook's birthday even, but you were about to be celebrating like it was your own.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

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vegas series tags <3

@damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place

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314 notes · View notes

chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

vegas, baby. (3)

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader {JK's here too}

summary: You and Yoongi finally get to spend some time together, giving Yoongi the perfect opportunity to do something he's been dying to do.

words: 8k

warnings: fluff...?, dad!yoongi always deserves a warning, they're adults, they're doing adult things and talking about adult things, NO MINORS PLEASE, nothing is explicit, jikook if you squint

a/n: I can't believe I'm posting a third vegas, baby?! You know my thing. I'm in love with these two. I'm so happy I could finally write how this happened.

{ my masterlist }

~ April 9th, 2022 ~

The white satin curtains of the hotel windows are open, letting light from the city below leak into the dark room where you and Yoongi laid beneath the sheets, illuminating the two of you just enough. Laying on your chest, gazing up at you with a sweetness you’ve missed, one of his hands smoothes over your skin gently, from your thighs, to the little scar on your abdomen, to your hips. There wasn’t a part of you he didn’t touch, not when life was unpredictable. He took advantage of all of his time.

After leaving the concert venue, once you were in this room Yoongi coddled his daughter to sleep, soaking in the bedtime routine after you gave her a bottle. You did mention before leaving Allegiant Stadium that there was a huge chance she’d sleep through the night, and so far, for these past few hours, you were right. Though he longed for more time with her, he was dying for a night with you.

So, the door conjoining the two rooms was left open a crack, just in case, and Yoongi took his time with you.

Two weeks without him used to be a breeze. Sometimes two weeks without him used to be a well needed break, something you had both admitted to one another way back when. It helped to strengthen your relationship, especially since most of the time spent together was crammed. The way you lived the old tour life was proof enough, when you were crammed, you were crammed with the addition of six other boys and a Sunny.

Now that you had a little one and life had shifted, time apart was agonizing. There were ample things to worry about, like Yoongi’s constant worry that his daughter would forget who he was if he was away for too long, but the main one was always if you could handle her alone. Seven months into motherhood however, though the start was rocky, you’ve gotten the hang of it. It just ultimately sucked that Yoongi had to miss time with his Mini Me.

Gazing down at him now, dragging a hand through his dark locks that were still stuck to his dewey forehead, you can’t help but smile, a soft one that he returns. You’ve been laying here in this position for almost fifteen minutes, doing absolutely nothing other than sharing looks, touches, and tiny kisses he’d place on your chest while your bodies both calmed down from their euphoric high’s that were two weeks overdue.

“I missed this,” Yoongi whispers, breaking the silence, giving the skin on your hip a squeeze.

“Me too,” You agree, giving his head a scratch.

“I miss… this,” He says tentatively, making you tilt your head in question.

“What do you mean?” The two of you continue to speak in quiet voices so as to not disturb the sleeping baby in the next room.

Yoongi breaks from your eyes for a moment, thinking about his choice of words before deciding to say, “Before baby.” His expression falters like the words he just spoke poisoned him, or were painful to say. Pouting your bottom lip, you give him a giggle.

“D,” You coo, cupping his cheek with your other hand, “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” He says shamefully, averting his eyes once more.

“Yoongi,” You say with persistence, breaking out the full name to show your seriousness. He looks back over to you slowly.

“I didn’t know if that feeling was normal,” He begins, “You hear about mothers going through… tough times, I didn’t know if a father could feel this way,” Slightly nodding your head, you encourage him to continue, “I wouldn’t change my life for anything. I would never give you, or our daughter up, for anything. Having her here right now is unreal, babe. That’s our kid.”

Smiling a bit bigger, you whisper, “Yes she is.”

“I wouldn’t take her back, ever. I don’t regret anything, okay? I just can’t shake this feeling of… of…”

“Mourning the past,” You add, dragging your thumb over his smooth skin. Yoongi presses his lips together. You nailed it.

“Mourning the past,” He repeats, then takes a breath before he goes on, “You used to be at every show. Whenever I looked out into the crowd I knew where to find you, or I knew that you’d be backstage when I’d go running through there,” He smiles at the memories, remembering the sneaky kisses you’d steal when the boys would hustle offstage to change their outfits, “Now… It’s different.”

Pouting out your bottom lip, you tug on his hair and mumble a, “C’mere,” and shift your body so that he can lay beside you on the pillows instead of on your chest. Placing his head on the cushion, he looks at you with a sigh, your noses centimeters apart. The exhaustion in his eyes messes with your heart, squashing it a bit as you listen to his lament.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way,” You say, and can immediately feel his energy soften, “We were stuck in our ways for so long, then, your surgery happened and it all snowballed from there.” Yoongi cracks a laugh and groans.

“The surgery, the goddamn surgery,” He grovels, “Imagine if it had never happened?” His eyes widened at the thought.

“Right?” You nod, “Would we be doing what we’re doing right now? Would we be parents?”

“Wow,” Yoongi breathes, reaching over for one of your hands. He falls quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere, soaking in what you’ve said.

“How does that make you feel?” You ask, giving his hand a squeeze. He looks at you and frowns.

“Sad,” He admits, “I would miss her.”

“You would never have known her,” You giggle at his comment, and he smiles.

“Yeah, I know, but I feel like part of me has always known her,” He says with passion, “So, I would miss her. I would feel like something was missing.”

Humming in response, your heart swells the way it always does when he talks about his daughter. That little girl is his pride and joy, he is utterly head over heels for her. Much like you, she’s got him wrapped around her tiny finger, which was why there was a huge fuss over your arrival to the show.

“You love your baby,” You say.

“Our baby,” He corrects, looking into your eyes.

Holding back a grin, you repeat, “Our baby,” And he proudly nods, shifting his other hand to hold beneath your chin, his thumb dancing over your skin.

“I think it’s just still brand new,” You say, watching his eyes as they scan over every inch of your visible skin, “Only seven months,” You huff, “Which is not a long time, and babies are a huge adjustment.”

“Yeah, it’s not a long time,” He sighs, “We had sex faster than that, though.” Making you laugh after a gasp, you nudge him away, nearly rolling onto your back. His sly smile makes your cheeks blush.

“We had sex after barely spending forty-eight hours in person together,” You whisper harshly, wearing a smile. Yoongi’s turn to cackle.

“Yeah, I don’t do that,” He says.

Widening your eyes you scoff, “Neither do I.”

“Guess we knew something back then,” Yoongi scoots closer to you, pressing his body to yours, “Intuition is a crazy thing.”

“Tell me about it,” You roll your eyes, “God, I used to think we were so stupid,” Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, you hear him chuckle, “The Red Bullet Tour, where I met you, I thought… After this, it’s surely over.”

“What!” Yoongi raises his voice, but neither of you seem to be too worried.

“Yup,” You grin, “I was entirely infatuated with you, I was so scared that once the tour was over you would break things off with me.”

Mouth agape in shock, Yoongi listens to you with eyebrows twisted in subtle hurt.

“We jumped into all of it so fucking fast, D,” Your voice falls to just above a whisper, “Your job is your life. Plain and simple, and at the start our relationship depended on how your job was going. Also Bang? Jesus, I swore he was going to snap one day and tell us to end it.”

“He did,” Yoongi says.

“I really- Wait, what?” You pause. Licking his lips, Yoongi toys with your bottom one with his thumb.

“After Red Bullet, right when you started to create for the company and take on projects,” He speaks with caution, spilling brand sparkling new information to you after seven years, “We had a meeting, just me and him, and he told me that it was time for the fling to be over.”

It’s quiet for a moment, neither of you reacting to what he’s said, until you start to laugh, this time with uncertainty.

“And- And you said what?” You ask, making him sigh heavily.

“Clearly I fought for you,” He chortles, “There’s a baby in the next room for god's sake!”

“Right, right,” You say quickly, giving your head a shake with a shameful giggle, “Sorry, I just never knew he actually tried to do that.”

“Wasn’t just once,” Yoongi mumbles, acquiring another gasp from you, “Would you keep it down,” He grins maniacally, twisting his body so he almost rolls completely on top of you, hovering his head above yours, “You’re gonna wake up our daughter.” Smiling up at his wild eyes, his warm breath fans your skin, bringing you more comfort you can imagine.

“I love hearing you say that,” You whisper. He raises an eyebrow.

“Our daughter?” He asks. You nod and he relaxes his expression.

“It sounds so nice.”

“Our daughter,” He says again, “Our baby… Our child… Our little one… Our… oopsie.”

“Heeey,” You sing with a frown that Yoongi finds entirely too endearing.

“Oh, my dear,” Yoongi grills, “That’s one thing neither of us can deny.”

He was right. He was one hundred percent, completely right, and now it was one of your friends favorite jokes to carry on.

“Best surprise ever,” You whisper sweetly, lifting your chin to catch his lips in a quick kiss.

Parting from him, pressing your head back in the pillows you find him wearing a soft smile. He takes you in for a moment, then slowly leans in, closing the gap between you to kiss you with more passion. A hand of his works its way up your side, his palm cupping your cheek while his fingers slip into your hair.

Just as you feel his lips part to deepen all of it, you pull away and say, “Can you go check on her.”

Yoongi releases a breath, and drops his forehead on your collarbone like a defeated eighteen year old.

“I know, I’m sorry, I know,” You babble, giving the skin on his back a scratch. Of all times to ask him to do this, it had to be right after he finishes venting about how he misses when life was like this.

“Hey,” He lifts his head, looking down at you in disappointment, “I’m not mad,” He says, “Don’t ever think that I’d be mad. She’s ours, we share her. I’m not one of those dads who’s going to complain, even though I just told you-“

“D,” You cut him off, “I know.” Lifting a hand to drag it through his hair that was getting longer than it's ever been, you both share a smile.

“D,” He copies the way you said his nickname, then kisses you one more time before he rolls away and starts to get up on his feet. Sitting up to your elbows, you watch with glee as he slips out of the sheets and starts toward the door.

Halfway there, he peeks over his shoulder at you and breathes a laugh, “I knew it, you wanted to watch me walk away.”

Biting down on your bottom lip with a smirk, you say, “Maybe.”

Shooting you a wink before he slips through the door, he’s gone for longer than you expected. Laying down on the pillow, you take a long deep breath and let your eyes close for a couple of minutes until you decide to call for him.

“Everything okay?” You question, rolling onto your side to watch the frame of the wood his slender figure walked under minutes ago. There hadn’t been a sound from the other room, there wasn’t a chance that she had woken up. Your daughter always woke up with a coo, or a sound mimicking a cry to announce her annoyance of being awoken from her slumber. She was her fathers child.

“Yep,” Yoongi’s voice answers, but he still doesn’t show himself.

“Need my help?” You offer kindly, knowing he was more than capable of handling the little thing.

“Definitely not,” He sings back, then peeks his head into your room wearing the ghost of a smile.

“She still asleep?”

“She is,” He nods.

With a hand behind his back he starts toward you agonizingly slow, treating each step with care all while appearing a bit nervous. His head was held high, his shoulders creating the perfect posture he typically didn’t carry.

“What’s the matter?” You ask him, beginning to smile suspiciously.

“Nothing,” He shrugs.

“Liar,” You lower your brows, “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” He asks, halfway to your side now.

“Like, you’re hiding something,” You say, then gesture to his hand with the top of your head, “Literally.”

“Oh,” Yoongi cracks a laugh, then hurries to the bed, diving onto it right beside you, “Because I am,” He laughs, leaning over to plant a kiss to your forehead.

“What is it?” You smile, eyes dancing over his grinning face, beaming with happiness.

In his eyes, the joy he exuded was infectious. Sharing a couple of quiet seconds, your mind goes on a rampage, dying to know what was brewing within his. You knew him all too well, you could tell just from his straightened back that he was shaking in his boots over this.

After a shaky breath he speaks to you quietly, his tone gentle, “It’s something I should’ve done a long time ago, something I wanted to do a long time ago, way before our daughter was ever a question.” He shifts to an elbow, still keeping whatever he was holding hidden.

“There was… a plan to make this happen almost two years ago, and saying that out loud now makes my heart ache, because you deserved this then,” His smile softens, “I wanted it to be huge, I wanted to celebrate you in a way that would show you just how much you mean to me, how much I love you… You changed my life. I like to think we found each other when we needed each other most, guess the universe can be funny like that.”

Pressing your lips together, you swallow away the lump in your throat, letting tears spill onto your cheeks while you listen to Yoongi pour his heart out beside you. It was happening. A moment you weren’t sure was coming or not, it was happening.

“I knew no matter how I did it you’d cry,” He says, making you both laugh. Tears began to form in his own eyes, “Jungkook even told me it wouldn’t matter how I did it, or when I did it, that I’d know when it was time. So, now, right here in Vegas, with our perfect, amazing little girl fast asleep in her crib…” His voice trails off as a tear slides down his porcelain cheek.

“I love you so much,” He whispers, “So fucking much, it hurts sometimes. I want to be with you forever, want you by my side for life, want you to be the mother of my children, because if they’re going to be anything like the one we already have, I want twenty more. God, I know we always say it as a joke, but this is meant to be,” He pauses for a breath, reaching over to take your cheek in his hand, brushing away the tears beneath your lashes.

“It’s all happening out of order, I know that,” He smiles, “But that’s us, and I don’t want to be anything but us, for forever.”

“Yoongi,” You manage to whisper with a sniffle, feeling the beat of your heart skyrocket as he reveals what he was keeping from you.

A tiny, black, velvet box that he pops open to flash you the gorgeous diamond ring concealed inside.

“Would you do me the incredible honor of being my wife?” He asks. Looking from the ring to his wide eyes full of love and hope, you bite your bottom lip and nod, really fast.

“Yes,” You sigh, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Yes?” Yoongi raises his brows to make you giggle.

“Yes!” You shout, and in seconds he’s jumping on top of you to litter your cheeks with kisses. “Did you think I’d say no?!”

Huffing a laugh, Yoongi pulls back and smooths your hair away from your face.

“No, I knew you’d say yes,” He says, “Here.”

Yoongi sits up a bit to maneuver the ring out of the black box, slipping it onto the ring finger of your left hand. The skinny silver band with the simple, yet glorious set diamond on top fit perfectly.

Smiling, you watch as his slender, knobby fingers brush against your own, the two of you admire how the rock looks for a moment before falling into one another, getting caught in a slow, timely kiss.

Noses smushed, unable to get enough, you part your lips and slide your arms around his shoulders, pulling him on top of you entirely. A heat washes over the two of you, sparked in the simplest of ways- that’s how you and Yoongi’s brains were wired. Put them together and you’ll have hours of bliss.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you tug him closer with your ankles, arching your back to press your skin to his. A soft groan escapes him, prompting him to grind his hips into yours, the need for each other growing with each millisecond.

Just as Yoongi presses his lips below your jaw, and your hands slide down his arms, skipping over the protective tape on his left shoulder, a cry sounds from the room next door.

“Oh, she’s funny,” You snicker with a heavy exhale. Yoongi lifts his head with a toothless grin, his eyes crinkling in the corner and his nose scrunching below his brow.

“She’s got better timing than Jin,” He offers, making you both laugh. Your daughters cry quiets as she hears her parents, spotting them without even having to see them. You swear she can make out your footsteps in the house to figure out who was coming to get her.

You and Yoongi mimic her, quieting yourselves just as she has. Eyes on one another, you both laugh without a sound when you hear a curious, “Huh?”, come from the crib.

As if on cue, you and Yoongi copy her, “Huh?” And laugh aloud.

“Mmma… Mmma… Mmm…” Your baby babbles, the end of her coos muffled by the hand you predict she’s shoved in her mouth.

Yoongi raises a brow, “You’re wanted,” He smiles.

“Huh?” Is said again from the baby, but louder, “D-d-d-…”

A smirk forms over your lips, “You’re wanted.”

“Don’t tell anybody this, but…” Yoongi brings his lips closer to your ear, “I think our child is a genius.”

Giggling, you nod and place your hands over his cheeks, “With you as a father, I don’t see how she’d come out any other way.”

“With me as a- Oh, please, with you for a mother it’s no surprise she’s as intelligent as she-“

“Da-da!” Is shouted from the cracked door.

“D!” You laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips to cut him off, “She wants you, go get her, we could go back and forth like this all night!” And it was true, because it’s happened before.

An overexaggerated blur of a quick, wet sloppy kiss is thrown to your lips, and as you're processing what has happened, Yoongi jumps to his feet to slip into a pair of sweatpants that were in the piles of clothes scattered about the floor.

Following suit, you roll out of bed and stand on your feet, throwing a hand between your legs in an instant as a familiar feeling starts to manifest.

“Shit,” You mumble, eyes scouring the floor for any article of clothing to save your situation.

In the other room, happy sounds erupt from your daughter once Yoongi is in sight. Her father speaks to her quietly, happily, using each word with tender care, his specialty.

The choice in parenting that the both of you agreed on without needing to speak about was frowned upon by many. You’ve read an astounding amount of ‘mommy blogs’ that condemn ‘gentle parenting’ and its ‘enabler tendencies’, and after each article you found yourself searching for the author to see if your mother had written it herself.

The childhoods and teenhoods you and Yoongi endured were not going to be passed onto your little one, and any other future little ones you acquire. Your child is going to grow up in peace, never going to bed hungry or crying, and under no circumstances will she question whether or not her own parents love her.

She will be free to choose her own future, taking any path to find her happiness without the pressure of others hanging over her shoulders. Never will she be found questioning her self worth, and never will she be forced to live out a dream you’ve made up for her.

Your daughter is her own person, one that you and Yoongi created together. She is yours to hold, guide, teach and love, but her life is not yours to control… That would make for a terrible ending, one you continue to live through yourself.

“You’ve got the worst case of FOMO I’ve ever seen,” You hear Yoongi joke as you wiggle into your underwear, “Wanna go see Mama?” He asks, planting a smooch to her cheek, one you can picture without needing to see.

“Ma,” Your daughter coos.

“I’m running to the bathroom,” You say, grabbing a t-shirt that isn’t yours from the floor. Peering through the doorway, your baby is snuggled up on her fathers shoulder, the one you expected her to be snuggled up to. A smile erupts onto her cheeks as she looks at you.

“Okay,” Yoongi says softly, eyes glued to you with his cheek pressed to the top of your daughter's head. Taking timid steps toward you, he parts from his daughter only to kiss your forehead, then he nuzzles his cheek back over her hair. “Can I bring her to bed?” He whispers.

“Of course,” You whisper back, lifting a hand to brush your thumb over the apple of your sweet girl's cheek, “We gotta tell her, she needs to be the first to know.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, “Oh my god,” He sighs with a smile.

Pulling the t-shirt in your hands over your head, you find that it belongs to your fiancè, and learn the excitement that comes with getting to call Yoongi your fiancè.

“I’ll only be a couple minutes,” You say, giving the arm that held the baby a rub.

“Take your time,” Yoongi says, “I don’t want her to let go yet.”

Heading into the bathroom, you take one last look at the two loves of your life snuggled into one another with their eyes shut. Yoongi rocked back and forth gently as he took slow steps toward the bed you shared. Just as he’s about to sit down with her, he pops his eyes open and catches you watching, giving you a smile that spirals you backward seven years.

For a second you’re sharing a moment with the twenty-two year old you fell for, the Yoongi you met on the street, the barrier wearing badass with the mushiest heart. He once was a kid who didn’t take anyone’s shit, surrounding himself with an armor that was impenetrable to anyone who dared to try to get through it.

That same person, that broken twenty-two year old was standing a few feet away from you cradling a daughter you shared in his arms, now a twenty-nine year old with a patched up heart and broken down walls.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you feel the lump in your throat come back. Yoongi raises both his brows, as if he could sense what you were feeling.

Giving you a small nod, he says, “I love you.”

Swallowing back the tears that welled in your eyes, you whisper, “I love you, too.”

Yoongi waits for you to close the bathroom door, then he sits down, scooting backwards along the sheets to lay onto the pillows where his daughter lifted her head to look at him.

“Hi, sweetie,” He says softly, smiling as she smiles, “I missed you so much.”

“Da…” She pronounces imperfectly, placing both hands to his chest to lift herself up.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, and she coo’s another sound that resembles her talking back to him, “It was only two weeks, but it felt like a lifetime,” He sighs, studying her every feature like she was doing to him. His tone drops dramatically, as if he was telling her a secret, his voice threatening to crack, “I don’t know what we’re gonna do next year.”

“Mama… Ma, ma, ma,” The baby’s eyebrows lower, and her lips purse as she talks to her father, tapping his chest a couple of times. Yoongi side smiles, placing a hand over her head to smooth back her hair.

“Yeah, you’ll be home with Mama,” He whispers, “She’ll take good care of you, she always does. She’s better at this than I am,” He chuckles, and his daughter tilts her head, looking at him curiously, “I’m gonna need you to watch out for her though,” He pokes a finger to her cheek, “Because it’s not just me… Uncle Jinnie has to go… Then, I’m probably going, and then Uncle Joon or Hope.”

He hadn’t realized, but a tear slid down his cheek.

“You know,” He tries to smile, “By the time Kookie goes I might be back, and we all know his departure will be worse than my own,” Laughing again, his daughter starts to laugh with him, “So, we’ll have to be strong for that one.”

“D,” You startle both of them, Yoongi and your daughter. They didn’t hear you leave the bathroom.

“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans, squeezing his eyes shut once his heart was back in chest. Smiling, you hurry toward the bed and catapult next to them, getting a giggle from your girl. You cuddle up close to them, throwing a leg across Yoongi’s, and an arm over his torso to put your hand on your baby’s back. Your chin rests on his right arm where you look up at him.

“You’re really funny, you know that?” You say.

Yoongi smirks, “How so?” Your daughter watches the exchange.

“No matter how, or when, any of you go, it’s going to be hard,” You begin, “But it’s been a fight for so long, I’m ready to ship all seven of you out myself just to prove everyone wrong,” Yoongi looks down at his daughter staring at her mother, smiles, and turns his attention back to you, “The thought of Jungkook going hurts, I’ll admit that, but Yoongi… I can’t describe what it feels like, the thought of you going away… to-serve-a-government-that-should-fucking-exempt-you-because-you-actually-fuel-their-econo-”

“Babe,” Yoongi cuts off your ramble with every nice intention.

Taking a deep breath, you shake your head and shrug your shoulders, “It kills me. To think about it. It takes my heart and squeezes it, suffocating it to the point where I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Yoongi is speechless, gazing toward you fiercely.

“Don’t you ever think that anybody will come above you,” You whisper, “You’re everything to me. I am who I am because of you.”

“Don’t give me all the credit, I just held your hand through the growth,” He says, “You created your life for yourself, you made your own choices, I just happened to be here.”

Smiling, you say, “Could say the same about you. I just… happened to be here.”

An incoherent babble comes from your daughter, one of sincere intent, like she was trying to contribute to the conversation at hand. Her eyes were now fixed to the tape on her fathers shoulder, her tiny fingers touching the edge of it carefully. A genius, like her father had said before, it was as if she knew exactly what went on with his injury, like she could sense it.

“What’s that?” Yoongi asks her, catching her attention, “You’ve seen that before, you probably think that’s a part of me, huh?”

You chuckle as your daughter sighs dramatically and babbles with the same sincerity to answer her fathers question. Placing her hand fully over the patched up injury, both you and Yoongi utter a gentle, “Careful,” to her, to ensure she wouldn’t start to smack it or grab it like she would with other things.

Instead, she continues to babble, a soft song, while her hand rests on top of Yoongi’s shoulder. Her pointer finger touches the edges of the tape, tracing the lines it made on his skin.

For a minute or so, the two of you watch your daughter go on and on as it seemed like she was talking about what she was touching. When she quiets down and looks over to her parents, she breaks out into a silly smile.

“You know more than my doctor,” Yoongi jokes, making you laugh, which triggers your daughter to giggle.

“You’re gonna be so smart, baby,” You say to her, “You’re already so smart.”

You and Yoongi speak at the same time.

“Like your Mama.”

“Like your Dada.”

Looking at one another quickly, your daughter bursts into belly laughs, dropping her face onto Yoongi’s chest.

“Uh oh,” You huff, “Someone’s learned to laugh like Jimin.”

“Yup,” Yoongi agrees, nodding his head, “The stop, drop and roll.” Your hand on her back keeps her from toppling over as she giggles like crazy.

Lifting her head, she takes one look at your smiles and loses her cool again.

“What is going on!” You laugh, giving her a few squeezes. Yoongi puts a hand on top of yours, smoothing it over your skin.

“She must know we’ve got a reason to be extra happy today,” He grins, speaking partially to her. Giving you a glance, he peeks down to your left hand and wiggles his eyebrows.

Gasping loud enough to make your baby look at you, you sneak your hand onto Yoongi’s chest in front of her, showing her the ring he had given you.

In her jewelry grabber era, your daughter looks down at it, then up to you and Yoongi, then back down to the ring, putting her entire hand over it.

“Is it pretty?” You ask her, wiggling your ring finger under her grasp, “Dada did a good job, huh?” Yoongi snickers, shooting you a funny look.

“Dada, dada,” Your daughter says excitedly, “Ah, waaa!”

“Wow!” You mimic, enunciating the right syllables that she’ll pick up on one day. She smiles at you.

“Mom and Dad are gonna get married,” You say, “My name’s gonna match yours,” Shifting your gaze to Yoongi, you find him already watching you, “Both of yours.”

He sighs and smiles, “Finally.”

Tucked in the backseat of the black SUV you had arrived at the stadium in yesterday, you’re wedged between Yoongi and your baby’s car seat, where the little one was sleeping soundly despite her father barking orders at the driver.

“You need to go around back, I don’t care what traffic is doing,” He says sternly, sitting forward in his seat, stretching out his seatbelt so that he could lean over the center console to watch the road, “They’re not walking in through the front.”

Branson, the man seemingly always assigned to you, is sitting in the passenger seat. Looking over his shoulder at your fiancè he smiles and ushers him backward to sit safely in his seat.

“We know,” The dark haired, muscley man assures him, “Let us handle this, okay?” Calming Yoongi’s wild eyes with his confident ones, Branson successfully gets him to shut up. Over the years the head of security on your side has earned his trust, he’d never have to wonder if you were safe or not around Branson.

With his daughter however, Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fully calm himself.

“Give us time to make it through this jam,” Branson nods, facing forward, “We’re going around back.”

Sliding a hand over his thigh, you give it a squeeze, signaling him to look at you.

“Relax,” You smile. Hesitating, Yoongi waits a couple of seconds before taking a deep breath, exhaling heavily, sitting with his back against the leather.

You were both bare faced and dressed down, arriving to the stadium in utter comfort no matter the occasion. Yoongi wore a baseball cap and a zip up hoodie, while you had your hair pulled out of your face wearing an old, dark, Map Of The Soul: 7 hoodie. Your daughter was dressed better than either of you, wearing adorable little joggers and a yellow sweater.

The plan for the day was to eat at the stadium, hang around for soundcheck, head back to the hotel to get dressed for the show while the boys prepared on location, then live like the night before and enjoy the show.

After sharing the news last night with your little one who was more interested in trying to chew on your ring, the three of you were awake for about another hour until the baby drifted back off to sleep. Once she was placed back in her crib to sleep safely, you and Yoongi crawled back into bed and fell asleep in one another's arms.

A couple of years ago waking up after getting only two or three hours of sleep was a breeze, there wasn’t even a second thought after it became a habit. Your body adjusted to the way of life, which was incredibly unhealthy now that you’re able to look back on it, and you were able to survive that way.

Getting out of bed this morning was rough, but it was worth it getting to see Yoongi when you first opened your eyes. Showering you in kisses before you got into the actual shower, it was quiet in the hotel room as you both got dressed while taking turns entertaining the baby sitting up on your bed watching her parents with joy.

At least she was able to catch up on sleep whenever she pleased.

Linking your fingers with his, Yoongi lifts up your hands and kisses the back of yours just below your diamond ring. He leans in to kiss your temple, then looks out the front window with a devious smile.

“Hey, Branson,” He says, getting the security’s attention. The man turns around with a sigh, usually exasperated when it comes to Yoongi.

“Yes, Yoongi,” He says, turning over his shoulder. Yoongi covers the ring with his other hand.

“I wanna show you something,” Your fiancè chuckles. Branson shoots you a quick glance, reading both your suspicious expressions.

“The last time I was shown something you were pregnant,” He thins his lips into a line, grilling the two of you with his eyes.

“Oh god, no,” You roll your eyes, laughing at his words.

“Not yet,” Yoongi sighs sarcastically. Shooting him a crazed look, Branson chuckles.

“What am I looking at?” He asks, shaking his head.

Uncovering your hand, Yoongi grins at the ring and holds your left hand up for Branson to see. You waited with baited eyes and the ghost of a smile, wondering why Branson’s approval felt so incredibly important.

The handsome man, many years older than you, stares at the ring in shock, his deep eyes going wide. There’s a split second where you think he’s going to talk you out of it, but he smiles instead, a rare emotion to come out of him.

“Wow,” He says, his eyes shifting between you and Yoongi, “That’s… That’s great. Beautiful ring, congratulations you crazy kids.”

Placing your hand back to Yoongi’s leg, you share a small smile before he leans in to give you a quick kiss.

“This just happened?” Branson asks. You nod in response.

“Last night,” You say, “Nobody knows yet, just tiny over here,” You gesture to your sleeping daughter, “We plan to say something at some point today.”

Branson takes a breath, nodding hesitantly, his silence accompanied by the light in his eyes reassuring you that he was happy without needing to say it. He faces the road, the car falling quiet for a little bit. Not a minute passes and Branson is spiraling around in his seat with a smirk.

“Y’know, I’ll never forget when I first met you,” He says to you directly, “We were in New York, it wasn’t my favorite stop of the tour, I hate New York,” Your jaw falls agape as you laugh at his honesty and the way his brow scrunches, “Sunny was who I met first, actually, that persistent woman-”

“Yup,” Both you and Yoongi sigh.

“She barged backstage to work like she owned the place, she’s always been confident like that,” Branson continues, “I thought, great, a New Yorker,” Now he’s got Yoongi to laugh, “She was either going to do a really good job, demand to get paid and leave, or, I mean, I really thought I was going to have to handcuff Taehyung to me. I knew at least one was going to get into some kind of trouble.”

Glancing at each other, you and Yoongi smile.

“It was Jin,” Yoongi narrowed his eyes.

Nodding, you press your lips together tight before you whisper, “It’s always been Jin.”

Branson huffs and shakes his dark hair, “And what about the two of you?”

Whipping your heads toward him with innocently wide eyes, you giggle.

“Yoongi, swore we lost you to the streets of New York, TWICE!” Branson shouts.

“Shhh!” Both of you hiss, directing your focus to your sleeping baby for a second. The pouty lips were imminent, she was knocked out. When you look back at Branson, his raised eyebrows say it all.

“What?” You question him, peeking at your fiance to see if he was catching on. His softened eyes told you he was as he smiled back at the head of your security, the one who’s traveled and been with you these past seven years. Yoongi shoots you a look and shrugs.

“I’m just…” Branson steals the attention back, taking in the sight of your little family, “Just really, really glad we lost you to the streets of New York, twice.”

Your bottom lip juts out once the words cycle through your brain, and get stuck on repeat. Welling up with tears, your eyes blink a couple of times.

“Oh, you’ve done it,” Yoongi half groans, laughing, lifting a hand to dab his sleeve on your cheek, “First cry of the day.”

“Sorry,” Branson says sincerely.

Sniffling, you giggle, roll your eyes and sigh at the same time, “That’s the kinda day it’s gonna be, I’ve been crying since last night.”

The car turns onto a familiar road you drove down yesterday, the one that gave you the view of the sea of people eager to see your man onstage. Checking it out now it wasn’t as filled as it had been, but there were human beings of all shapes and sizes littered across the space. Many were taking pictures while others lounged on the ground, like they were waiting for BTS themselves to show up.

It never mattered how many times you saw these scenes. Each and every one was incredibly unique and personal, an insight into the life of a person you used to be. Now you weren’t much different, you just acquired a fiance, a baby and your dream job. Yoongi wasn’t all that different either, he was just as regular of a human being as those waiting to watch his show.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t thrilling to drive by them knowing they’d lose their minds if you rolled down the window.

Min Yoongi was sitting beside you.

Min Yoongi, your fiance, was sitting beside you.

“...pulling in now…” Another bout of deja vu, the driver speaks into the walkie attached to him while he turns the car around a second corner.

Sitting up straight, Yoongi directs his focus outside, eyes scanning the premises as the car pulls into the back entrance of the stadium through the metal gate that closed with a clang. The driver's walkie makes some noise, a staticy sounding voice that only he and Branson seemed to understand. It makes your girl stir, tilting her head side to side. Her little arms start to raise above her head, her hands brushing over her face as they do. The pout gets significantly poutier, and her eyes flutter open.

“Gonna need a binkie,” You mutter, holding out an open hand to Yoongi, keeping your eyes on the baby. Her father reaches forward to rummage through the bag packed just for his girl and places a sage green pacifier in your palm. “Oh, I love this one,” You smile, popping it in her mouth before a cry can escape.

Outside of the car Jungkook is exiting his own with Jimin following right behind him.

Yoongi scoffs, “It’s like she could smell him or something.”

Glancing up to catch a look at who he was talking about, you find Jungkook and laugh, “Kookie.”

“Huh?” Your daughter coo’s, letting the pacifier fall out of her mouth and onto her lap. Her head tilts, looking up at you curiously.

Reaching over her carseat, you roll down the window and shout, “Kook!” Your voice echoing in the concrete box you’ve driven into. Jungkook and Jimin walked closely together, discussing something quietly. At the sound of his name, Jungkook stops dead in his tracks and searches for you.

“There,” Jimin finds you first, pointing to the open window, giving you a wave while Jungkook grins and jogs toward the SUV. Branson and the driver exit the car, joining up with the other group of staff waiting by the stadium doors.

“Morning,” He says, all upbeat and chipper once he’s close by. The boy is donning sleepy eyes, puffy lips and an insanely at ease energy.

“Sleep well?” Yoongi asks, teasing the kid who doesn’t catch on.

“Uh, yeah,” Jungkook shrugs, “I guess.”

“Who’d you room with?” Yoongi raises a brow. Jungkook leans on the edge of the door, raking a hand through his hair.

“Jimin,” He says without a second thought.

Looking at each other for some hidden, unspoken reason, you and Yoongi share a look.

“I guess we slept well, too?” Your fiance jokes. Releasing a breath to hold in a laugh, you suppress a smile and turn back to Jungkook.

“She’s awake?!” The boy cheers, leaning into the window.

Your baby, who had been staring at you, is suddenly put under a shadow. Jungkooks shadow. She blinks twice, then looks toward the obstruction of light, and you aren’t able to cover your ears fast enough. A shrill, high pitched shriek comes out of her tiny, little lungs, one that could compare to an attendee of tonight's show.

“Can I get her out?” Jungkook asks you.

“‘Course,” You nod, unbuckling the straps across the baby’s chest. Jungkook pulls open the door as you scoop the pacifier into your left hand and tuck it into your lap, shielding the ring out of sight. You hear Yoongi laugh quietly.

“Koo-hee!” Your girl shouts, “Koo! Koo!”

Jungkook is grinning ear to ear, “You missed me that much?” He asks her, scooping her up into his arms. The little one cuddles herself into his chest as he kisses her on top of her head.

“Pretty sure she’d live with you if she could,” Yoongi says, smiling fondly at how small his girl looked compared to Jungkook's arms. She fit perfectly in the crook of his elbow.

“Nooo,” Jungkook sings looking down at her, “You wouldn’t leave your mom and dad, would you?” Her head perks up, gazing at her Uncle first, then you and Yoongi. She lifts a hand and points at you. Everyone waits in suspense with smiles, waiting to see what she’ll do next, which is typically what would happen when any of them would come over to your house to visit.

“What is it?” Jungkook asks quietly, bouncing his knees a few times to egg her on.

Taking a hilariously deep breath, your daughter falls into a fit of babbles shifting her eyes back and forth from the two of you in the car to the boy holding her. There’s a couple ‘mama’s’ and a ‘dada’ thrown in the mix of jumbled up words that Jungkook listened to intently.

Yoongi leans into you and whispers, “She’s telling him. Shady little peanut can’t keep a secret.”

“She sure is,” You whisper back, watching your daughter speak to her best friend a mile a minute, “You have so much to say!” You say in surprise, catching her attention. The babbles come to a stop, and a giggle replaces the gibberish, her nose scrunching up like yours when she laughs.

“Want me to carry her in? Or, want me to take something else?” Jungkook offers, shifting your baby onto his hip. Squeezing the pacifier in your fingers, you weasel your hand out from where you’ve shoved it between your thighs and hold it out to him.

“You can take her,” You smile, “You’ll need the binkie.”

“Got it,” Jungkook nods reaching for it, “Anything else I-”

He freezes.

The diamond ring is on full display, the binkie could barely be seen in your hand with how you were holding it.

Looking over your shoulder at Yoongi, his eyes go wide, “That’s the…” He nearly squeaks. Yoongi nods, a smile appearing on his lips. “You did…”

“I did,” Yoongi says.

“He did,” You chime in.

“Holy shit?” Jungkook’s voice gets louder.

“Hit!” Your daughter tries to copy him, making you and Yoongi snicker. He glances from the baby in his arms, to the two of you in shock.

“W-When? How? What!” He was short-circuiting before your eyes, “You said…” He points at Yoongi, his eyes narrowing.

“You said, what?” You question devilishly, raising a brow inquisitively.

“I said nothing,” Yoongi says, unbothered.

Just as you’re about to interrogate them both, a car like the one you were seated in pulls into the lot. The baby on Jungkook's hip watches it, and jumps as the gate closes.

“Place your bets,” Jungkook says, stepping aside so that you can all have a glimpse at who exits the vehicle.

“Definitely Tae,” You mumble.

“Nah, that’s Jin,” Yoongi squints.

“Tae was the last one to leave, wasn’t he?” Jungkook adds.

The car parks closer to the doors. A member of security hops out of the passenger seat and yanks open both back doors to reveal a couple of comfy looking, hungover human beings. Sunny and Jin, with sunglasses on their noses, both wear a frown while they stumble out of the backseat. They both don’t look at the other, but they certainly know how to move around one another.

“Oh my god,” You laugh under your breath.

“I guess they slept good too?” Yoongi says as innocent as can be.

Falling into a fit of laughter with him, a confused Jungkook remains a bystander, and his following question makes you laugh even harder.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

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leave me some here! <3

VEGAS TAGS! <3

@jewelrnicorn @yoongisducky @all-american-fangirl @funkylittlebisexuall @ahewlett @damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place

#bts

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

vegas, baby. // myg. (2)

~ part two - here is ( part ONE! ) ~

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader ( ot7, they're all there )

summary: After seeing Yoongi and the guys, it's time for them to get ready for the show, which leaves you time to go explore the world you used to live before your daughter was born. Meeting AMRY, buying merchandise, it's all normal... for the most part, and the show is legendary...

words: 6.5k

warnings: like none, fluff…?, a swear word here or there, does Vegas need its own warning?, barely edited i just gotta get it out, they mention sex a few times, it's heavily insinuated at the end, DAD YOONGI, baby is unnamed ( you get to pick :) )

a/n: part two finally, thank you for all of the lovely support. i am in love with this couple, i've had thoughts of starting a series. the backstory for them after writing their future just feels entirely too sweet now... thank you again for over 500 notes on part one :')... i adore you all.

*gif not mine, cred to owner*

Nerves stirred in your chest right under where you were holding your baby girl. Following close behind the undercover security guard, Branson, you were headed out to the crowds at the Allegiant Stadium with twenty minutes until showtime. Three team members walked around you, all of them dressed in similar, casual style so as to not draw attention to your group. As promised, you had given Branson a new t-shirt with Jimin’s face on it, getting a laugh out of him, reminding him of old times. He pulled it over his head with joy, having you take a funny picture of him to send to Jimin who always loved this long running joke of yours.

Behind you, a loving hand held onto your shoulder. Turning toward her, your old friend Sunita, or Sunny, was heading out of the arena with you.

“Oh my gosh!” You gasp, seeing her now for the first time in a long time. Sunny giggles, then pulls you into a hug, the others pausing for a second while you have your moment.

“I was cleaning up when you got here, we’ve been busier than ever doing these shows everywhere… It’s so incredible to see you,” She sighs, then rests a hand to your baby girl's head, “She’s beautiful, and getting so big.” Smiling wider than before, you thank her and offer her your daughter who’s eyes were boggling over the stunning woman before you, your long term stylist best friend who broke into the professional industry thanks to BTS. Sunny had been struggling for years to make it big, then one summer night a simple phone call changed both of your lives forever.

“You hold onto her,” Sunny smiles her wide trademark grin, “This is your night, spend every moment with her.” Bouncing your girl, you nod, then you pout your lip.

“My arms will be tired in an hour,” You whisper, laughing with Sunny who agreed to take her from you when you needed a break. Branson waved a hand, egging the two of you on to continue your reunion as you toured the stadium.

There were five in your group, not counting your mini. Branson led you guys around the ‘long way’, he called it, so you weren’t seen coming out of a backstage area.

The moment you saw members of ARMY come into view was the moment tears began to well in your eyes. Sunny noticed, snaking a hand underneath one of your arms to hold you close, walking directly side by side with the woman who was half a foot taller than you. From your front, your girl coo’s happily, finally satisfied with some visual stimulation she was being deprived of in the plain halls. There were bright lights, there were concessions, shops, bars, and signs with the guys' handsome faces on them. The further you walked inside the thicker the crowd had gotten, but it wasn’t making you nervous… It was oddly comforting. The chatter and excitement was fueling your own, and seeing ARMY’s smiling faces got you smiling, knowing that that was the boy's only wish. Their ARMY’s happiness.

Admiring the creative outfits and costumes the fans pulled together, you and Sunny reminisce together with a look, not needing to say too much, but remembering the days you’d spend hours planning concert outfits together.

“Anything you have planned to do?” Branson asks without an ounce of impatience. His smile is small, just happy to have you back around to get him away from the chaos the guys liked to cause backstage. The five of you have come to a stop beside a shop of merchandise that was flooded with young fans reaching left and right, and up and down, for their bias’s merch.

“Dada!” Your girl shouted, looking in the same direction as you, “Daaa, daaa, dadada…” The group begins to laugh as she continues to babble the syllables she struggled with for forever, but suddenly now loved to say.

“Well,” You remain calm, “You heard the girl.” Joining in the laughter you nod toward the shop and the posters decorated with her daddy’s face.

“You don’t know this yet, but it’s a secret,” You whisper to her for no one else to hear, “You have the coolest dad ever… but nobody knows.”

“DADA!” She shouts once more. Excellent secret keeper.

Inside the shop there were BTS songs playing that some fans were singing along to, and you believe your girl may have recognized it because she started to kick her legs to the beat.

The first time she reacted to music you thought Yoongi was going to cry actual tears. You were at home in the living room playing an unheard track from ‘D-3’, that still has no release date, with your daughter in your arms, her back pressed to your belly as you swayed side to side to the beat. Yoongi was on the couch, critiquing himself quietly as he would tend to do, but still smiling at his girls that were enjoying his music.

“She likes it,” His eyes were big, full of love.

“She’s just happy it's finished,” You start to tease, “She’s been hearing this beat since the womb.” He cracks a laugh and shakes his head, getting your girl to laugh, too.

“You look beautiful,” He says, his voice hushed. Pausing your movement, your eyes go crazy, glancing down at your estranged fit, then back to Yoongi who was still smiling. It was the evening time and you were still dressed in your pajamas, well, all three of you were. Your hair was tied up, exactly how you woke up that morning, toppling to the side in the scrunchy that was hanging on to the edge of glory. Shorter pieces of hair had fallen out of the back and were laying on your shoulders that were also adorned with slobber art, courtesy of the little one in your arms. To be fair, Yoongi wore the same art on his shoulders, and his hair was just as disheveled.

“I look beau-“ The song changed, and your daughter in your arms started to kick her legs to the beat, the exact beat. Not in the cutesy way a baby would typically kick, she was hitting every accent. Yoongi launched himself forward, jaw falling open in shock, cutting off your sentence.

“Yes!” He nearly shouts. Looking down at her you smile, then start to sway your body again to which she begins to kick even harder. Resting a hand over his lips, Yoongi takes a long deep breath before standing to join you, taking his little one's hands with two of his fingers. His eyes were sparkling with absolute joy as he watched his baby bounce to his music.

“I knew it’d be mine that would get you moving,” He says to her, then kisses her head before kissing you, the three of you spending most of the night here finishing the album together.

“Put her right there,” Sunny points below a Jungkook doll, directing you where to hold your daughter so you could take a picture of her nestled in the plushies of the guys. She was a little bit bigger than the dolls, so it made for the cutest scene. Strategically holding her under her bum and behind her back, you balanced her between Yoongi and Hoseok, who’s plushies were right beside one another. You wondered if that was done on purpose.

“PERFECT!” Sunny shouts, gathering the attention of a group of teenagers walking into the shop behind her. All at once a chorus of ‘Aw’s’ and ‘she’s so cute’ broke out amongst them. Your girl giggles, and Sunny snaps the shot that you knew would make it to your Instagram later.

Propping her on your hip, your daughter stares at the girls wearing masks, some wearing sunglasses and others wearing bucket hats. From their clothes alone, you could already tell who’s bias was who’s. The tall, short brown haired girl dressed in black cargo pants with a black crop top, big boots and a bucket hat on belonged to Jungkook. 80’s style, colorful trash bag pants belonged to Hobi, curvy, sleekly styled mini skirt belonged to Jin and the shortest one on the end with a fuzzy purple sweater on was Jimin’s. You guessed they took your daughter looking at them as an invitation to come over to you.

“How old is she?” Hobi’s asked, crouching down a bit to coo at her.

“She’s sooo adorable!” Jin’s sung, leaning against Jungkook’s.

“About halfway to eight months, and thank you,” You smile beneath your mask, avoiding the eye contact, keeping your eyes pointed at your girl who was resting her cheek on your arm, “She gets a little shy sometimes,” You poke her nose gently hoping to make her smile, but she simply turns her head away from the teens. Of course now she catches onto the secret.

“She likes BTS? Or do you?” Jimin’s asks you.

“Oh, she loves BTS,” You roll your head a bit to emphasize, “Just a few minutes ago she was dancing away to My Time in here.”

“No way, that played?! We missed it?!” Jungkook’s whined, stomping her feet a bit as she looked to her friends.

“Jungkook bias?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, and her friends answer for her with a groan.

“Insufferable,” Jimin’s rolls her eyes.

“It is not my fault he is insanely handsomely beautiful,” Jungkook’s states, holding up a finger. You note to remind Jungkook how ‘insanely handsomely beautiful’ he was later, “Now I’m done talking about him before I throw up because I’m so nervous to see him in person… Do you have a bias?” Every head turns to look at you, it felt as if everyone in the store had come to a standstill, heat rising in your chest as the teens eyed you. Branson was on the other end of the shop with the other two stylists taking in the sight of the place littered with ARMY, all while keeping a close eye on you. You glance there for a second, and he assumes a strong stance, questioning you with an eyebrow. Reassuring him with a smile, you nod and look at the girls.

“I do,” You say happily, knowing Sunny was shaking in her boots, “Totally Suga,” You beam, using his stage name hoping it’d throw off the instance that you could possibly be personal with him, though you knew ARMY used their full names regardless. The girls giggle with you.

“He’s so hot!” Jin’s says, bouncing up and down. Blushing beneath your mask, you nod again, having learned that you’ll hear this about your boyfriend from other people for the rest of your life.

“He really is,” You sigh.

“Does… sheeee have a bias?” They ask about your daughter who has now turned back to the teens who got closer to you in conversation. You all laugh after the question is asked, knowing it’s a little inappropriate, but you honestly had an answer.

“You know, I thought it was Jungkook,” You bob your head, holding onto one of her hands to shake, “But… it happens to the best of us… I think this lady has fallen for V.” The girls absolutely lose it, tossing their heads back in awe, and shouting a couple things. Your daughter finally laughs, making the girls react even bigger.

“Well, you guys have taste,” Jimin’s pops a hip and points to you and your girl.

“Yeah, you guys are cool,” Hobi’s smiles, then the girl's attention gets stolen by the oodles of merchandise in the shop. They say goodbye and hurry off to grab favorites of their favorites. Sunny ends up back at your side and shows off photos she took while you were mid conversation with the group of girls. The very last one being all of you laughing, including your baby who crystal clearly resembled her father.

“The sweetest,” You say softly, “Look at her, that’s fucking Yoongi,” You whisper sarcastically annoyed, you and Sunny laughing.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, it is,” She agrees to your dismay, making you laugh harder.

“You’re supposed to be on my side! I grew her!” You tease, bumping her with your hip.

“Yes, yes you did,” Sunny assures, then smirks, “But he put her in you.” Throwing your head back you cackle, the two of you causing a scene in the corner of this shop. Your daughter watches you happily, content in her mothers arms. Branson and the others made their back over to you, asking if you were ready to move on or if you wanted to stay here for a while longer. Glancing around the shop at the merchandise, you ponder the thought of purchasing something, at least something for your girl.

“He’ll kill you if you buy something,” Branson reads your mind, watching your eyes search the store. Frowning, you bounce your baby a bit.

“Uh, well, there’s too many people around for me to just take it,” You say, and Sunny snickers.

“What do you want? I have my ID, I’ll talk to them up front and get it for you,” Branson says. Your daughter had a hand stretched out behind you toward the wall of plush dolls. Turning around so she could see them better, you gasp when you see that she has her hand on Taehyung’s doll.

“You are down bad, baby,” You joke to yourself, picking up the doll to give to Branson. The buff man barely glances at it, but looks at you with a puzzled expression.

“Tae?” He asks you as if you didn’t examine the shelves properly enough. Sighing, you shrug and press your lips together.

“It’s her first crush, I gotta get it for her,” You mutter, half serious. Branson quizzes you with his eyes again, then decides to not ask anymore questions and just get the doll for you.

“Don’t blame her, man is a snack,” Sunny says beside you, “Whoa!” She exclaims, your daughter having latched onto one of her fingers with her tiny iron fist.

“Oh, she’s got a death grip,” You warn a few seconds too late, your eyes wandering down to the low hanging silver chain with diamonds on it around her neck, “Watch out for that necklace, she’ll want that next.” Sunny lifts a hand to it and starts to joke with your girl about it, getting her to smile and coo a bit.

From the front of the shop, Branson was getting the doll, and behind him in line was the girl in the purple sweater, the Jimin bias who was talking to you a couple of minutes ago. Your eyes met, hers seeming like they were watching you for a little while now. The young girl looks at Branson, watches as he pulls out his wallet with no cash, flashes his ID, then gets handed V’s doll in a bag that he didn’t pay for. Her dark brown eyes find you again, her eyebrows low now. It was as if you could see the wheels turning in her head. Taking in Sunny, and your daughter, you tuck your girl's face against your chest, which she didn’t like, she started to whine, but this young girl was getting suspicious. You’ve seen this look before, just not this serious. Ever. Branson was almost back to you guys, then you could hurry out of here before things escalated- unfortunately, the bad secret keeper had a mind of her own.

“Dada… dadada…” She started babbling on and on when you allowed her to look around again. The young girl's eyes started to grow wider. Pulling her mask to her chin you saw that her lips were parted in subtle shock. You stood this way for a minute, even after Branson asked if you were ready to go. This girl didn’t move, the shop line moved around her. She didn’t shout, she didn’t cry, she didn’t make a scene, she didn’t take any pictures, she didn’t get angry… It seemed strange. If something like this were to happen, everyone on the team was prepared for the third world war, but right now it didn’t seem like such a huge deal.

The girl still seemed like she was questioning it, her expression telling you just how skeptical she still was, so you pull your own mask down and give her a small smile- not that she knew your face, you just wanted her to know that you appreciated her for who she was, of course, now that she’s partially got you figured out. She tried to smile back, then you sent her the final message that sealed the deal. You lift a finger to your lips, in this moment fully telling her that everything she was thinking was true, and that she needed to keep her mouth absolutely shut. The second your finger touched your lips her jaw snapped shut, and her eyes went extra wide. She gave you a slight nod and turned her back to your group, allowing you to release a heavy breath. You didn’t realize how long you were almost holding it for, now feeling anxious.

“We can go,” You mutter, tucking your daughter close to you again, leading the group out of the shop.

“Hey, you okay?” Branson asks, hurrying to your side as you flee the scene, “What happened?” His voice was stern, but not with you. Slowing your stride so he wasn’t running after you, you sigh.

“There was… just a lot of people,” You say, “It’s been a while, I thought I’d be able to handle this.” Sunny catches up, placing a hand to the back of your neck to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Uh, my opinion may not matter, but I think you’re doing great,” Branson half smiles, shrugging with his hands. Sunny's brows turn in as she looks at you, confused.

“What’s wrong, love?” Her voice is low, soft, and comforting. Turning to face her, she sees it in your eyes and quickly wraps her arms around your shoulders, sheltering you and your mini, kissing the top of your head.

“You’re doing so good,” She whispers, giving you a small rock side to side, “Tiny is having a blast. She is such a good baby… You know how many little ones I hear screaming at these shows? You have an angel.” Chuckling into her shoulder, you sniffle, a few unnoticed tears slipping down your cheek.

“She’s her father,” You say, “And thank God for that, remember how I used to get at these things?” Lifting your head you shoot her a crazy eyed look and she lets out a cackle to which your little one giggles.

“Do I? After the first two shows you were impossible to find! You were… rearranging furniture and shit… stuff! Stuff… sorry,” She ends with a whisper to your daughter, making you smile. Empty dressing rooms just used to hit different on the road.

“You hungry?” Sunny asks, and you shake your head, “Want to go grab our spots then? The show starts soon.” The thought of watching Yoongi letting it all go onstage brought you back to the moment, the excitement beginning to come back. Your favorite part of this, hearing him live, and of course watching him dance.

Since his surgery he’s never looked so free as he does now when he moves, and it struck your heart in a way that got you weepy.

He was in his accident before you had met him, and you didn’t learn about his injury until a little bit into your relationship. It caused a lot of problems for him through his career, which then had you causing problems for his management because you were so utterly pissed off that he wasn’t able to get the proper care he needed… It was a topic you could go off about for hours, and how unfair it was to have him suffer for so long. Going through the journey of the surgery with him, to see him dance now really got to you. No more wincing in pain, no more trying to rotate it into place, and no more unimportant doctor visits where they’d tell you the same thing again and again.

Watching the livestream of Permission to Dance LA, and seeing the way he was acting did actually have you shedding tears of happiness. It’s been plenty of time since his procedure, so he’s been recovered for a while, but he still tends to wrap it up from time to time to take care of it and to prevent future injury.

Looking at Sunny, you start to smile.

“Let’s go watch my man shake his ass like he’s on a corner,” You say, taking her by surprise.

“Y/N!” She gasps with a grin, hooking an arm under one of yours as you start to follow Branson and the other girls, “But… he really does shake his ass like he’s on a corner…” She leans in to giggle with you.

“Permission to Dance, I dunno what it does to him,” You simply smile.

Round, purple headphones covered your baby's ears as she laid in your lap on her back, comfortably resting on your thighs where she was free to kick her legs as much as she wanted. Her eyes were open wide, taking in everything around her from the people, to the lights that were shining bright. The ARMY Bombs mesmerized her, one catching her eye every couple seconds.

“How quiet do you think those make this for her?” Sunny asks from the chair next to you, tapping the black band of the headphones. Your group of five had seats on the floor, just off to the side of the big square stage in the middle of the arena that descended off of the main one.

“I have no idea,” You puzzled, tilting your head curiously as your daughter smiles at you, “You’re so happy!” You coo, squishing her cheeks a couple times between two fingers, “Can you hear Mama?” She giggles, and you lean over to kiss her nose, rubbing yours to hers before doing so. Scooping her up from underneath her arms, you tried to get her to stand on your knees, but her little legs wanted to kick instead.

“Want to bet they’re all having a meltdown back there?” Sunny smizes, nodding toward the stage, knowing they were all standing behind the screen waiting to come out. There were unfortunate technical difficulties with the screen, the concert was supposed to begin twenty minutes ago. This was the guys worst nightmare, you just knew they were anxious ARMY would be disappointed.

Out in the crowd however, everyone couldn’t look happier. The sense of community in these seats was unlike any other… besides the few comments you heard and chose to ignore about you and your baby getting seats on the floor. Sunny and Branson were quick to reassure you, telling you that you deserved to be sitting where you were. It was another surprise to hear Sunny say that she’d be staying in the crowd the whole show with you, usually she’d have to leave to go help with the boys, but tonight she was able to stay with you making it feel like three years ago all over again.

“I feel like I can hear Jimin whining from here,” You snicker, blowing raspberries to your girl's cheek making her laugh.

Suddenly, the room goes dark and screams erupt from every square inch of the vicinity. A spark ignites in your heart, feeling swallowed by the sound of love for your man and his best friends. Jumping to your feet, you turn your girl around, holding her back against your belly as you watch the square ‘We Don’t Need Permission’ screen, that was blinking like crazy, rise slowly to reveal a prison-like cage full of dancers.

The opening notes of ON began to play, and your stomach twisted into knots, heart beating a mile a minute. As the smoke dissipated, they appeared. A tear you didn’t notice that was welling in your eyes rolled down your cheek as you smiled, releasing a breath heavily.

Once the cage had risen and was out of the way, the dancers barreled forward, putting on the performance of their life, the choreography just as good as the first time you’d seen it way back when in rehearsal before the world blew up. It was genius to open with ON, having been sitting on it for a year without live performances.

“JIMIN!” Sunny shouts, rocking to the beat as the boy with the always ethereal voice finally emerged from the performers. From your front you felt your girl bouncing, her legs happily going as she found her fingers to munch on. Looking down at her, you lift her higher to your chest so she’d have a better view, though you were unsure she could put together anything that's happening right now. All you knew is that she felt the music, and that she was going to lose it when the guys made their way down to this stage.

Taehyung swaggered his way through his verse, Namjoon the next to emerge to absolutely rock his part, standing out amongst the dancers being dressed in red. Then came Jungkook, his eyes scanning the crowd slyly as he searched for you while bobbing along to the music, and as the song slid into the chorus- there he finally was. Yoongi jumped into place, determination written in his stage presence as he started to rip the choreography apart, moving smooth and free. ON wasn’t easy, none of their dances were, but ON was demanding especially on his shoulder. Watching him tear it up, another tear seemed to fall.

He moved effortlessly beside Hobi and Taehyung as the next verse began, your heart knotting up because you knew what was coming next.

The world seemed to stop as his voice rang out in the stadium, the screams erupting once again as he stood solo in front of the dancers, the guys hurrying behind them to join in the choreography. Your daughter stopped bouncing, her head looking curiously side to side at the sound of her fathers voice that she was all too familiar with.

“Girl!” Sunny called to you, reaching her hands around your shoulders to hug you tight as you cried happy tears. She wiped beneath your eyes for you and held you for the rest of the song, singing every word with you.

“Holy shit!” You shout turning toward her, laughing as the lights go out and the crowd goes nuts. Sunny smiles at you sweetly.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” She says, and before you could say anything back, Fire began.

“No FUCKING WAY!” You shout, mouth agape as if this was the first time you’ve heard this setlist, but this was your song. You and Yoongi, this was your song.

The music was bumping, pyrotechnics shooting off, and this was when they finally made their way down the stage, half of them running to the end. Yoongi seemed to take his time, searching for you in the sea of beautiful faces as he joined his members in the center of the square. Your girl was babbling away at the sight of them coming closer, but not loud enough to be heard over the catchy melody. You and Sunny each lifted a hand to sway to the beat, and Jungkook spotted you first, slapping a silly grin on his face. He didn’t stick around too long to keep it cool, but also to do his job.

The choreography for Fire was just as sick as any other. When the song came to an end, Yoongi was placed in the front to hit his signature, then Dope began and they dispersed, Jungkook running through them after saying, “To the left,” behind Yoongi. He wandered forward at first, giving his attention to ARMY that they utmost deserved, some coming a long way and doing the most just to see them here tonight. Finally he turned toward your side, and your heart started to race. You felt like a teenager watching her Idol, waiting for him to notice her in the crowd and live happily ever after… The way your breath hitched in your throat as he came closer, and your hands felt shaky… He looked so good, and nothing got you going more than seeing him sweat it out onstage.

“Yoongi!” You couldn’t help but shout, hoping it’d help him spot you. It did. Sunny cheered, throwing his hands in the air as a cheeky smile grew on his lips, a hint of relief washing over him. A shriek came from your daughter and he laughed, starting to rap along to the song, jumping up and down as she started to kick her legs again.

As fast as he appeared, he had to run away, but from that moment on his entire demeanor changed. He bounced around the stage, and even messed around with the cameras with Hobi during their verses getting ARMY to melt.

The rest of the show was invigorating. Eventually all seven of them found you, making sure to come over from time to time to give you a smile or funny face, courtesy of Uncle Kookie. Yoongi stood in front of you at one point, gazing at his girl that was cuddled up in your chest sleepily. It was about halfway through the show, he was dressed in the blue overalls he looked disgustingly adorable in. The sight of his little one curled up in your arms as you rocked her to the beat of So What was incredibly endearing. He laughed at first, seeing her eyes shut, but he knew after fifteen minutes she’d be back up ready to party, and he was right because as soon as Home started her head popped up. She munched on a couple snacks at that point, a few puffs to keep her satisfied before she got her bottle to put her to sleep on the car ride back to the hotel after the show. Yoongi was going to be coming back with you, and you were over the moon about it.

His team got you conjoined rooms, connected by a door so that you could have a room separate from your daughter in her adorably spacious crib that you traveled with. She slept in your bedroom as an infant, but has been in her own bedroom since she was old enough to be alone. Last night that door stayed open however, her first night in the new crib, and it would stay open tonight as well, no matter what.

The show closed with Permission to Dance, you and Sunny giggling like crazy at that one move in the choreography with Yoongi shaking his hips like his life depended on it. Your daughter loved this song and was bouncing along, jumping slightly at the confetti that shot out toward the end. Her tiny hands reached out for it as it fell all around you. Sunny scooped some up and blew it out of her hands onto her, a giant smile growing on her face. Bouncing a couple times she watched Sunny, waiting for her to do it again, and when she did, your girl screeched louder than she ever had before, one of the dancers turning her head to look over to where the sound came from.

Yoongi ran your way as the song faded out, and everyone started to clear the stage. He chased after one of the big white balloons and kicked it, smiling down at you as he chased it to kick it again. Blowing a quick kiss with just his lips, he hurried back up toward the main stage with his friends.

They took one last look at ARMY, and that screen started to come down around them as they waved and blew kisses and bowed. Then, they were gone.

“I have to post to Weverse about it, I’m very upset,” Namjoon paced back and forth in front of the couches you and Sunny were lounging on. Your best friend had a glass of champagne in her hand that she had offered to you as well, but you let her know you weren’t drinking while your little one was around, who was currently giggling up a storm in Jungkook's arms as he and Taehyung played with her.

“Joon, I’m telling you, they didn’t care. If anything the wait made them more excited to see you,” You say to help calm his nerves. Giving you a look that told you he was going to post about the technical issues anyway, you smile, sigh and wave him away. On the couch across from you, Jimin was chugging a bottle of water before he had a swig of champagne, putting that glass down for the rest of the night.

“I thought it was great,” He says with a shrug, “It was fun seeing you two out there again.” He sends a smile to you and Sunny who returns it with a wink, making the It Boy blush and giggle. Yoongi came into the dressing room, still wearing his last outfit, the long white sleeved shirt with the blue jeans, and his hair was pushed back messily. The disheveled, after show look that usually had you jumping his bones and kicking your friends out of the room, if they didn’t leave voluntarily first. Eating up his appearance, Sunny caught you undressing him with your eyes and laughed, slapping your leg.

“I’m not leaving,” Jimin says quietly without remorse, resting back against the couch cushions, propping his feet up on the table that sat between you guys. Shooting him a hilarious glare for assuming you’d regress back to your old days, he just smiles and shakes his head.

“Can’t believe you slept through Idol!” Jungkook teases your daughter, Yoongi joining them in making her smile, “Want to see your dad?” Jungkook lifts her toward Yoongi, who holds out grabby hands. She grins and babbles, but then tilts her head backward to look at Jungkook and decides to stay with him.

“Whatever,” Yoongi playfully rolls his eyes at her, “At least your mom wants to hang out with me.” Watching that whole moment pan out, you hold open your arms as he hurries over to you, diving into your lap, tossing his arms around your waist. You laugh out loud, his actions taking you by surprise as he flips you over to place you on his lap. Planting a thousand kisses on your face, he then sighs, catching his breath, his eyes glued to yours.

“You’re sweaty,” You whisper, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t wipe his smile away if he tried.

“I love you,” He says, ignoring the teasing that broke out amongst the rest of them. Leaning forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders to kiss him, you smile into it.

“I love you more,” You say quietly. A whine from your girl stood out through the chatter of everyone in the room, catching your attention, finally breaking the two of you away from one another. Your chins turned at the same time, laughing as Jungkook pulled a funny face struggling to keep your writhing baby still in his arms.

“Hungry?” Yoongi asks you, and you nod.

“I was going to feed her on the way back to the hotel so she’d sleep for a while…” You say, hoping he’d catch onto your hint without having to actually say it aloud in this room of people who knew you both all too well.

“Think she’ll go down for the night?” Yoongi’s eyebrows launch to the sky, a familiar feeling stirring in your belly. Kissing his cheek, you whisper in his ear.

“She’ll be out for hours.”

“We have to go,” Yoongi jumps up, placing you on your feet, “Give me my baby, we’re leaving.” He parades over to his friends, saying goodbye and taking his girl as you hug Sunny and Jimin.

“Hey,” Jungkook eyes him before handing over your daughter, “She’s your reminder,” He moves her in a little circle in front of Yoongi who just rolls his eyes, “Wrap it, my friend.”

“You mean you don’t want one for each arm?” Yoongi teases, making you and Sunny whip around at lightning speed, cutting off your goodbye.

“No!” Sunny, Jimin AND Jungkook all shout. Looking at Yoongi, he glances at you and smirks. Getting playful back, you lift your left hand and wiggle your ring finger.

“There better be something here first before number two comes out,” You giggle, and a chorus of ‘Ooo’s’ erupts, turning Yoongi’s cheeks pink as he squeezes his eyes shut with a big, cheesy, smile. Even your daughter caught onto the sound and repeated it after everyone, laughter the next sound to fill the air.

“We’re leaving!” Yoongi, still grinning, glares at you and hurries for the door. Sunny tosses her arms around you one more time.

“That look on his face,” You say quietly to her, “He has something planned, doesn’t he.” Pulling away from you, Sunny pretends to zip her lips shut and toss the key behind her.

“Baby, let’s go!” Yoongi shouts from down the hall. Sunny pushes your shoulder gently.

“Go make some love with that fine piece of man,” She winks, watching you walk away with a smile on your face, “But love only! No babies!” It was your turn for your cheeks to turn pink, the guys throwing a couple jokes your way as you waved sheepishly to them.

“MAMA!” Rung out down the hall, your daughter shrieking thanks to her father.

“I’m coming!” You shout, turning out the door to find them at the end by the exit.

“Yes, you will be,” Yoongi shouts back. Groaning as you laugh, you ignore his comment and hope the stage hands in the hall did as well. Catching up to him, he holds around the back of your neck with his open arm, and he places a delicate kiss on your lips.

“This was my favorite show,” He says, “Nothing will top this. I love you… so much.” Kissing him again, you hum against his lips and smile.

“I love you more,” You whisper, and he laughs quietly, shaking his head.

“Impossible.”

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

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leave me some here! <3

#bts

758 notes · View notes

chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

vegas, baby. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader ( ot7 at some point )

summary: Dating Yoongi as an Idol used to be easy, and effortless, like pouring you two a glass of wine after one of his shows... However, after the birth of your surprise baby girl, those effortless days have gotten a little harder, you being unable to travel with your daughter. After one lucky doctor's appointment though, things seem to shape up...

words: 6k

warnings: like none, fluff...?, a swear word here or there (not really), does Vegas need its own warning?, Yoongi is overprotective but it's cute, this is heavily unedited, they mention sex vaguely, DAD YOONGI, baby is unnamed ( you get to pick :) )

a/n: hiii, I was very much in love with this one night and it poured out of me, then I fell out of love with it, but I'm proud of it. I feel a fic coming of these two and their prior life, and then completing this one one day... Part 2? Not sure I like where I left this off at, I planned to write more but needed to get this out of my sight for a second, so here it is. :)

*gif not mine, cred to owner*

Five teeny, soft little fingers wrapped around one of yours. Driving peacefully for almost twenty minutes, you were grateful for the quiet ride, yet disappointed your seven month old sweetie didn’t take this opportunity to nap. Instead, your baby girl was lifting her head out of her carseat to peer out the window, enthralled by the Vegas lights that were shining bright as the night grew closer. She sang out an occasional coo when something was particularly interesting. Usually it was just the street lights whizzing by, but this time she shrieked, making you jump where you sat beside her.

“Goodness,” You chuckle, bouncing her hand that was grasping onto your middle finger like it was her job. You were relieved it wasn’t your necklace, or your earrings. Anything shiny and dangling was her favorite thing at the moment, and your poor ears paid the price. At least she’d grown out of her hair ripping phase, you’d totally take broken jewelry over headaches any day.

At this red light she so happily squealed at, you followed her eyes to where she was staring intently and held yourself back from copying her screech.

Vegas was painted fucking purple.

Using your other hand, you pull out your phone and start a video, recording your girl's content expression before panning to the window, taking in everything Vegas had to offer. It was beautiful, and filled you with absolute joy. In just a few minutes you’d be back in your boyfriend's arms, and your girl in her father’s.

“Dada,” You say softly, catching her attention. She turned her chin, giving you a big smile. Always such a calm, happy little girl. Her father thanked you for that, knowing damn well her smiley personality didn’t come from him which you were ready to defend every time. If anyone was the calm, unbothered, unpredictably silly one it was definitely Yoongi.

“De… De…” Your baby stammered, trying to mimic you. You’ve been working on ‘dada’ since Yoongi left two weeks ago, but she still hasn’t been able to pick it up. She was fluent in ‘mama’s’ and the occasionally surprising ‘Kookie’ that sounded more like ‘Koo-hee’, but had come out clear as day one night while you and Yoongi were snuggled up with her in your bed.

Side by side in the center of the bed underneath the fluffy white duvet, Yoongi had your little one on his lap, making faces at her that had her belly laughing like you’d never heard before. It was late, close to midnight. Yoongi had gotten home later than expected from a rehearsal for Vegas with the guys. At seven months your girl was on a schedule, and she was, again, like her father and adored her sleep, however tonight was special. Yoongi was leaving for Vegas in a couple of days, and you’d both be without him for two weeks before you were flown out to see the show, so you didn’t mind keeping her up to soak up as much time with her daddy as she could. Partially, you did it for yourself. You knew that if she was up, he’d stay up, giving you more time as well.

“You are so silly,” Yoongi said, then stuck his tongue out and squeezed his eyes shut, getting her to crack another giggle, “Can’t wait for her to be around the guys again.” He sighs, bouncing her up and down for a second. She ate it up, her big, toothless smile wide as she kept her eyes on him. It goes without saying that she was a daddy’s girl, but he was just as much, if not more, of a sucker for her.

“She gets to see them,” You reassure him, knowing her bond with his friends was important to him, “Kook was here just last night.”

“I mean… all together, all of us. While we’re being… us,” His eyes left his little girl for a second to peer over at his first girl, “She’s never been to a show, this is gonna be huge.” You smile, your heart warming over how much this meant to him. Yoongi’s work was his life, his first love, his everything. For him to start to share that with the tiny family he’s created, the tiny family that he adores more than life, was incredibly important.

“It is huge,” You nod, agreeing with him. You hadn’t been to a show since you could last travel while you were pregnant, and even then it was one of the shows that was pre-filmed, edited, or a performance for television. You missed out when Permission to Dance shows started, having your girl in September when the first live streamed show was about to happen. Funny enough, your girl shares a birthday with Jungkook, who now has bragging rights for life and gets to claim himself as the favorite uncle.

She’s been so small, struggling to keep weight on her though she was born on time about a day after your due date, so both you and Yoongi were apprehensive about traveling with her while she was so young. It was a hard decision that kept you up for nights at a time, shedding some tears together knowing you had to spend time apart during this major shift happening in your lives. Her health was ultimately the most important thing.

There was a small chance that Permission to Dance LA would have happened for you, but your girl's weight was dropping again, so home it was. Close to doctors, close to friends, in a familiar, comfortable environment for her. Seoul was out of the picture, too. That one hurt Yoongi. However, under some miracle, your tiny girl was finally gaining some weight and sliding herself into a healthy percentile and keeping herself there.

You phoned Yoongi the moment you were outside of the doctor's office that day, telling him the good news. The first thing he said being, “You can come to Vegas.” And so you were, both of you.

“I’m excited to watch you perform, I miss that so much,” You say, resting your head on his shoulder gently, knowing it was currently wrapped up. Kissing the top of your head, he sighs, which was funny to your girl making her start to giggle again.

“What has gotten into you!” You laugh with her, taking in how she was sat here admiring her parents with the eyes, you guessed it, she got from her father.

“Tell Mama, my full belly makes me happy, makes me feel good, and makes me a healthy girl,” Yoongi’s voice stole her attention, her smile fading away as she watched him curiously. Minutes prior to now she had guzzled down her entire bottle in Yoongi’s arms, satisfying all three of you. You sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds before she giggled.

“Mama!” She shouted, “Ma, ma, ma, ma…” She started to bounce again.

“Alright, alright,” Yoongi playfully rolled his eyes and shifted your baby over to your lap where she crawled up to sit on your belly instead of your legs. That was her spot. Like clockwork, whenever she wanted to sit with you she’d find your belly and sit there instead. It’s like she knew she came from the scar on your pelvis, those couple inches permanently marked as her territory. As insecure as you were about it, Yoongi never failed to tell you almost daily how beautiful it was, and that it was a reminder that the two of you created something so wonderful, sometimes muttered in the dark hours of the night when his lips brushed over it softly.

“You always are a little more silly after you see Uncle Kookie, aren’t you?” You coo, brushing a hand over her dark hair that was once held back with a bow that was ripped out hours ago. Her record for wearing one was forty five minutes, and she was sleeping for thirty of them.

“Koo-hee,” She mimicked placing her hands on your chest, “Koo-hee!” Her voice went high and shrill, you and Yoongi cringing with laughter.

“Do you love your Uncle Kookie?” Yoongi asked, pleased with how fast she turned to look at him.

“Kookie,” Her voice was a lot softer than it had just come out. Whipping your heads to look at one another, your jaw fell open.

“No way?” Yoongi stifled a laugh, “She just fully said Kookie.”

“Koo-heeeeeeeeeeee!” Was almost a scream before she fell into a series of meaningless babbles, tiny fingers gripping at your chest looking for a necklace you knew to take off.

“He’ll never believe us,” You shake your head, and spend the next fifteen minutes trying to get her to repeat Kookie for a camera before putting her down for the night.

Rewatching the video you took, the car resumed its journey. Opening your messages, you tap on the pinned thread with Yoongi he had named ‘#1 husband😮‍💨’ long before your baby was even born. The two of you were only dating a month when he changed that. You sent him the video giving him a little hint of where you were. You told him you’d left the hotel, and you planned to keep it at that, maybe surprising him with your arrival, but the video was too cute not to send.

Typing bubbles appeared, then disappeared. Appeared again, then disappeared.

[#1 husband😮‍💨]: My girls my girls my girls my girls my girls

Was the first message to pop up. Cheesing at it hard, you double tap it to give it a heart.

[#1 husband😮‍💨]: You put her in purple Taehyung is going to go nuts

[#1 husband😮‍💨]: She matches the lights

[you]: I think she knows we’re going somewhere exciting. She hasn’t slept since she woke up today. Hope she doesn’t get cranky.

Glancing over to her while you waited for a response, your girl was already watching you. You wiggle the finger she had her lethal grip on and smile.

“Gonna see Dada… Dada…” You try again, defeated. You really wished she would say it, especially today.

“Gonna see… Uncle Kookie,” You tilt your head and she grins. Uh oh, here it comes.

“Koo-HEEEE!” She shrieks, and you apologize to the driver who only laughs with you. The buzz of your phone on your lap stole your attention.

[#1 husband😮‍💨]: She’ll be too excited to be cranky

[#1 husband😮‍💨]: I know I’m a little cranky…….. cause I’ve been without you for forever

Your cheeks flush pink, wondering where he was to even get away with texting you like this.

[#1 husband😮‍💨]: Six babysitters. Empty dressing room….. Just saying

Actually thinking about it, it was deemed possible. That’s how you guys used to go about it anyway, too hot for each other to wait until you were in the privacy of your own space. Dressing rooms, public restrooms, his studio, an empty room at Hybe while he rehearsed… the list shamelessly went on. It actually came as a very little surprise to some of the members when Yoongi told them you were pregnant.

Though you were still young, and still hot for each other in the same teenage fueled lusty way, you were parents now and you wondered if you should adhere to golden parent standards. Plus, you’re a little shocked to see Yoongi say he’d let his girl out of his sight in a place she didn’t know.

[#1 husband😮‍💨]: On second thought I can wait. I’ll keep it together even though I know you’re wearing the jeans that kill me in every way shape and form

You smirk. They were worn on purpose. For this purpose. It was no lie, you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. Yeah, you were parents, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to tease him.

Sending him a winking emoji, you then peer over at your girl who’s eyes were back out the window, now checking out the masses of people surrounding the venue her daddy was about to bring to the ground.

“Hoooolyyy…” You mumble under your breath, having forgotten what this part of this life was like. It’s not that you forgot, you remember quite vividly. You actually used to wait in these crowds with friends to get the full experience, and it was always way too much fun.

Dating wasn’t something that was advertised for Idol’s, so it was very unlikely that one would go public with a partner, especially a member of BTS. Rumors totally stirred every now and then, but you and Yoongi were never the culprits of any… Though, when you’d attend shows there were a few ARMY who’d stare a little too long, curiously. It’s incredible how you would get away with it, attending every show without anyone wondering why or how you were at another one.

Your socials were completely private. Instagram was the only platform you found fun anyway, using it as an archive (an idea that Namjoon will say he did NOT steal from you). You followed a couple of friends, family, and all seven of the boys of course. You were careful of who was following you, making sure you trusted them to their core before allowing them access to photos of your life, you, you and Yoongi, and now, you, Yoongi and your girl.

Private’d accounts from Hybe and the team followed you, keeping tabs on all socials at all times for your own safety. Even when posting photos of your baby you were sure to keep most of her face hidden in the slight chance that something could possibly happen. Photos with Yoongi were abstract as well, keeping details to minimum, showing only the parts that mattered, and very rarely were the two of you fully in one together. You liked to edit and post this way, your Instagram became more of a passion project for you, documenting your life and scrapbooking it onto a feed that flowed beautifully.

The crowd outside the stadium was flowing into the streets, there were so many people. People of all ages, not just what someone assumes a fan of the boys would look like. There were parents with their kids, groups of teenagers, young adults, and even families attending with their grandparents.

The younger side of ARMY were the ones who’d eye you up occasionally. Waiting in the lines with them was exciting, you loved the atmosphere they created. The chants, the way they’d talk about their biases (that you later would tell said bias about), the sea of voices singing their songs during soundcheck… It was invigorating to see that side of it, getting perspective on how huge it all really was.

You’d be sent out there incognito with a couple of friends you’d met through the boys and the team, and per Yoongi’s request, a member of security that they allowed you to dress up to fit in with ARMY. The poor guard assigned that job quickly became Jimin’s biggest fan. You got him a different Jimin t-shirt for each show, accessorizing him head to toe in other merch associated with the It Boy.

Maybe the girls weren’t actually looking at you…

“Pulling around, we are license plate…” The driver spoke into something that resembled a cell phone, and suddenly the windows fell dark. Your little one looked at you with wide eyes, hers adjusting to the darkness. “Yes, just her and the baby. Approaching the gate now, confirming with code…” Life was so different now compared to how these nights used to go. Sure, security was always this tight and strict, and sometimes you would try to challenge it a bit to see what you could get away with. You never pushed too far, it was only just you and Yoongi seeing how long you could escape for before Namjoon and the team got ticked off, but now it was different. Much different. There was a tiny person involved, a tiny person you made with the person that probably requested his team go through this much trouble for. You appreciated it, it definitely was relieving some of the anxiety you were keeping packed away. You trusted ARMY to the fullest, but even they knew there were some uncertainties amongst those who only acted as if they were true…

Before leaving the hotel you checked your bag six times, making sure you had absolutely everything you could possibly need for your girl. She had a change of clothes, plenty of diapers, her favorite snacks, formula, toys… She was ready for her first BTS concert.

“Oh, baby girl, you are in for it,” You whisper under your breath as the car pulls into a garage underneath the stadium after passing through a gate that loudly clanged shut behind the car. The lights that were now shining bright outside of the tinted windows were making her squint, making you giggle as you hurried to undo her seat buckles before the car was even parked.

“Mamaaaa,” She sang sweetly, watching you. Leaning over her, you kiss her forehead.

“My babyyy,” You copied her sing-songy tone that made her kick her legs and shake her hands happily, “Such a happy girl,” You smile, “Let’s go find Dada.”

Once the car was in park, you scoop your girl out of her carseat, letting her make a biiig stretch that you had to comment on before tucking her and her purple fit into your chest.

That’s when she spotted it. It was smooth, and giving off a chrome sparkle when the lights from outside would hit it. It was in the shape of a small heart with a ‘Y’ on it in pretty lettering. Her tiny hand went in the air, eyes on the prize, but you caught her fingers before they could reach the necklace Yoongi bought you for your last anniversary.

“No, please, no,” You hide your demise behind a short laugh and scoot to the edge of the seats, waiting for your door to be opened. Per protocol, you were not allowed to exit the vehicle until the door was opened for you by a team member. More safety precautions.

From around the corner, a group of people all dressed in black covered with headsets and wires appeared, spreading out in the garage, scoping the scene. Your eyes scanned them at lightning speed, looking for a face that could be out here secretively. You knew pretty much everybody on this team, and they knew you.

One of the tallest guys nodded to everyone else and turned his chin to speak into the walky-talky that was pinned to his shoulder. You assumed that was confirmation they could come and get you.

Two members approached the car, one coming to open the door and the other going toward the opening trunk to grab your things.

“Hello! Welcome!” Was said your way as you stepped onto the concrete. The garage was echoey, every single sound bouncing off the grey walls. Your little one nuzzled her head into your neck, hiding her face from the bright lights and the sharp sounds. Cradling the back of her head, you kiss her cheek, whispering comforting words to her to keep her relaxed.

Your bag was passed along, a team member carrying it as everyone started to follow you toward the doors.

“Do we need the car seat?” Was called out amidst the movement, and with a simple shake of your head you let them know they could leave it behind. There were going to be plenty of eager arms to hold her here.

“Suga at doors three and four,” Was mumbled somewhere next to you, and your heart shot out of your chest, “Approaching that entrance now.” You were about to see him for the first time in two weeks. He was about to see you for the first time in two weeks. You and your girl were here, at one of his shows, for the first time together.

Biting onto your bottom lip with force, the nervousness that was swirling with excitement inside of you was about to boil over as you rounded the corner to doors labeled ‘3’ and ‘4’. God, you couldn’t wait to kiss him, or just simply put your hands on him. He was going to get to cradle your girl and smother her in tiny kisses like he loved to do. Doing that was the first thing that ever made her laugh.

Members that were many feet in front of you reached the doors first. You swear you could feel your heart beating in your throat, that’s how nervous you were, and the feeling shot down through your stomach as they grabbed the door handles, but as soon as they were pulled open, every minuscule uncomfortable feeling you were feeling dissipated.

Rocking impatiently side to side, Yoongi’s head shot up once the doors had opened, locking eyes with you instantly. Heart swelling, feeling overwhelmed, the sight of you coming toward him with your baby in your arms had him squatting down to the floor, covering the bottom half of his face with his hands that were iced out in jewelry. He wasn’t allowed out of the arena.

“Min Yoongi!” You shout, holding your girl to you tight as you hurried toward him, passing three members on the way. His eyes crinkled, hands still covering the smile that was growing with each step you took toward him.

More team members and stage hands stood behind him, working efficiently to get the show ready. One of them paused to try and speak with him, but he sent them away with a wave of his hand, jumping back up to his feet to throw his arms around you as you passed over the threshold, holding you gently, carefully, telling you just how important you were to him.

He was dressed in his first outfit of the night, one of your favorites, all white down to chunky, red detailed sneakers. It suited him, much like how he wore white to the Grammys, most definitely his color- though you wished they kept the original of this assemble, the all white everything.

His hair and makeup were already done, a part of the process you adored to watch even if it made him a little shy at times, and he smelled fantastic. A mixture of something musky along with something sweet. Whatever it was, it was doing something to you.

“This can’t be real,” He sighed, tightening his arms around your back. Slipping one around his waist, you giggle into his neck, placing a kiss there before taking a long deep breath.

“I missed you,” You breath, “We missed you.” Yoongi turned his chin to look down between you two, your girl already gazing up at him with a goofy big grin already smug on her face.

“My goodness,” He spoke quietly, “Who is this beautiful little lady?” His tone was playful, evoking a giggle out of her. The two of you share a smile, then an overdue kiss that you wanted to melt into, but a babble from your girl brought you back into the room. Yoongi leaves an arm around your back, but pulls away enough to shift his baby into his arms. In a second her hands were attached to his jacket, curiously looking at the zippers and trying to figure out how to work them.

“How was the ride? Was everything okay?” Yoongi asks you, eyes on your daughter. Wrapping both your arms around his waist, leaning against his side, you nod.

“Was perfect,” You said, watching him watch your girl, “I can’t believe what they did with the lights!” His eyes went wide as he nodded his head.

“Incredible… Everyone went out last night to check it out,” He said, “I wished you could’ve been there.” His gaze shifted over to you, something that looked like sorrow written in his eyes. Pouting sarcastically, you shake your head.

“Enough, stop it,” You playfully tap his back, “We’re here now."

“And I’ve never been happier,” He whispered, tilting his head to kiss you slowly. The doors closing behind you was a sign telling you to get out of the way, though no one on the team would really tell you to do so. Instead, Yoongi tightened his grip on you and started walking his family down the underground halls of the Allegiant Stadium. The stylists that were passing by were excited to see you, Yoongi proudly showing off your daughter as she took in everything around her with wonder. So far she was happy, and not shying away from the new faces like you thought she would. Just as you were passing by a few more stage hands, familiar shouting sounded from a room at the end of the hall that you recognized immediately.

Memories of causing a scene, and making a mess in the dressing rooms came rolling back with ease. Pausing before you got in front of the door, you motioned for Yoongi to enter with your girl first, eager to see how his friends were going to act. Before he did, he took one last long look at you, up and down, and kissed you.

“Mamaaa,” Your girl said, and the dressing room fell silent. You held in your laughter as you heard the guys whisper, trying to decipher whether what they heard was real or not. Sharing a quick glance with Yoongi, a mutual decision was made.

“Kookie,” You whisper to her, and she loses it, arms and legs flailing away.

“KOO-HEE!” She shrieks, and you hear Jungkook lose his mind. The chorus of six pairs of feet wearing the chunky sneakers sounded, barreling for the door, Jungkook being the first to appear outside.

"My GIRL!” He shouts, hurrying over to Yoongi to gently squeeze her cheeks between his finger and thumb, making her smile and squirm in her fathers arms, “Favorite uncle is ready to put on the BEST show for you.” He smiles toward you, holding his arms open to give you a squeeze.

“She missed you guys,” You said while he rocked you back and forth, “I can’t wait for her to see you all onstage.” They all looked absolutely breathtaking, their stylists knew how to do their job. One by one they greeted your baby, leaving her in Yoongi’s arms for now, then you with a hug. One member in particular was stuck on your girl, however, not even making it over to give you a squeeze.

“Oh no, Taehyung,” Yoongi shook his head, smiling. Your girl's tiny hands were latched to his, the difference in size melting your heart. Tae was laughing, unsure of what to do as your daughter stared at him with a wide open gaze. Jungkook popped his head in front of her to try to distract her and get her attention, but she was zoned in on Taehyung, frustrating the youngest member.

“You’re strong,” He continued to giggle, wiggling the fingers she was squeezing, “I like your outfit,” He spoke to her as if she wasn’t an infant, and it was hilarious. Quickly, her hands sprung free and reached out for him, Taehyung looking up at Yoongi just as fast, questioning whether or not to take her.

“Go ‘head,” Yoongi chuckled, holding her out for his younger brother to grab. His hands fit over the entire circumference of her back, they were probably as long as her entire legs right now. He seemed unsure at first, only having held her once as a newborn, but Yoongi was quick to help him out while your daughter still gazed up at him.

“Jeez, we get it, he’s handsome,” Jin mumbled, getting everyone to laugh aloud, even Taehyung who’s cheeks turned pink. Yoongi rolled his eyes, shaking his head half seriously.

“No, no, no,” He said, moving to stand behind you, sliding his arms over your shoulders, clasping his hands to his elbows. Lifting yours, you placed your hands over his, squeezing them happily.

“No boys, sorry Tae,” You keep the joke going.

“Just cool uncles,” Taehyung nodded, bouncing your baby a bit as she babbled up at him, “Protecting and watching over you from everyone.” A soft smile grew on you and Yoongi’s face as you watched the six of his friends fuss over your daughter, trying to make her laugh, or steal her attention from Taehyung.

“She’s so loved,” You whisper, Yoongi agreeing with you with a hum, planting a kiss on your cheek.

Hoseok was next to scoop up your girl, getting her to giggle and kick her legs instantly. All he had to do was stick out his tongue and she was gone.

“Oh! So cute! You’re so small,” Hoseok cooed, kissing her cheek three times, making her smile. Yoongi squeezed one of your shoulders after watching your face falter at his words, giving you a knowing look. Jungkook hurried over and snatched her from his older brother, spinning her in the air before giving her a squeeze.

“She’s perfect!” He sarcastically defended, but ultimately meant, knowing the most about her not long ago needed bi-weekly doctor appointments. Looking up at her Uncle Kookie, she cooed softly, then laid her head on his chest. She’s fallen asleep there before back at home when Jungkook would come to visit, and it looked as though there was a possibility she’d drift off comfortably right now, but Taehyung spoke, and the sound of his voice had her head springing up fast, eyes searching for him. Teasing sounds erupted from the guys, Yoongi shakes his head again.

“Here,” Jungkook sighs, turning to hand Taehyung the baby that was already reaching for him, “You win.” As soon as she was out of his arms, Jimin tossed his around Jungkook from behind. One of his babies still wanted his attention.

The eight of you stood here passing around your girl for another ten minutes, you and Yoongi being asked question after question regarding everything about her when chatter and noise started to grow from the arena.

“I think I hear them,” You wiggle your eyebrows, making them smile. A stagehand approached the group, tentatively trying to get a word in, letting you all know the doors had opened and the show would be starting soon. Knowing the guys took these last moments together alone, you break out of Yoongi’s hold to his disappointment, and take your girl back from Namjoon, who was holding her like she was the most fragile thing he’s ever held.

“Let’s go, babe,” You smile at her, as she tries to resist you a bit, “Oh, I know, I’m not as cool as them… they have to get to work!” A few of them giggle, then they turn back into the dressing room after saying goodbye, leaving you and Yoongi to have a moment alone. Kissing his daughter on the head, Yoongi then kisses you in the same spot, putting his arms around you.

“There’s another room around the corner here,” His voice was low, comforting, “They put both your things in there, and I know it’s got food and drinks for you, too. It’s further from the stage, so if she needs to sleep it won’t be too loud… Oh! It has a private bathroom, too-“

“D,” You cut off his rambles with his nickname, his eyes pointing down to you, “Thank you,” You giggle, tilting your chin to press your lips to his, “I think someone needs to be changed,” You whisper as if your daughter understood what that meant. Yoongi crinkled his nose, and chuckled. The chatter from the arena caught your attention, and a thought popped into your mind, one you were kind of nervous to ask him.

“What?” He questioned, able to read you like a book.

“What?” You repeat, and he chuckles again at your obliviousness.

“What’re you thinking?” He asked. You nibbled on your bottom lip, Yoongi lifting a hand to use his thumb to pull it out, kissing you there softly. Your daughter had a tight grip on one of the zippers of his jacket.

“Can I go out? We? Can we go out? Out there?” You gestured to the arena with the top of your head. Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed, looking from your girl, back to you. He slowly opened his mouth as if to speak, but quickly shut it.

“Please?” You whisper, giving him a glimpse of your puppy eyes on purpose, knowing they had an effect on him. Sighing, he glances away and nods.

“I don’t see… why not,” He says tentatively, “You’re not going alone, of course.”

“I know,” You start to smile, “I got Branson a new Jimin shirt.” Laughing about the security guard you liked to dress up with Yoongi, he calms down first with a short breath.

“Nothing crazy,” He says, making sure he has your focus, “We’re in Vegas… Last night this city got a little wild,” You nod after every word, “I got the headphones for her, little purple ones back in that room for you… Take them now just in case,” He pauses, taking in the sight of his daughter. If you were anywhere else you’d feel a bit silly letting Yoongi tell you what to do like he was parenting you both, but he knew his concerts best, so you appreciated his words.

“I’m going to wear a mask, too,” You remind him, giving him another reason to be okay with you joining his fans, “She’ll be fine… I saw other babies while we were driving, so we’ll fit right in. No one will suspect a thing.” Yoongi starts to smile, giving you a single nod before a long kiss that your daughter didn’t like. He took her into his arms as he led you to find Branson and the group of friends you’d typically hang with at shows, then to your room to your things where he changed your baby’s diaper himself.

“Suga, you need to head out,” A stage manager poked his head into the room with his hand on his walky-talky. Sharing a silent moment with you, Yoongi sighs.

“Be careful,” He said, handing you your daughter. Standing to meet him with a hug, you nod.

“We’re gonna go experience Dada’s world,” You say softly. Yoongi looks down at you, confused. “What?” You ask.

“You already do,” He says, “You two are my world.” The stage manager peered in again, beckoning Yoongi to leave at this point while tears pricked at your eyes.

“Alright!” He groans goofily, looking over his shoulder, “Bye, my love,” He kisses you, then your girl, “Bye, my baby.”

“Daaadaaa,” Fills in the following silence, your stomach doing a flip, “D-d-daaada.” Yoongi watches her in awe, then looks up at you in disbelief.

“That’s the first-“

“The first-“

You both try to speak at the same time, falling into a fit of giggles.

“Dada,” Yoongi says to her, and she repeats it clearly, “Oh, YES!” He shouts, making her laugh, “And now I have to leave?!” He bounced on his heels, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” You tell him just as the stage manager looked back into the room, “Please.”

“Mmm,” He hums, “You gotta stop saying that,” A flash of devil hints in his dark eyes. Your turn to roll your eyes.

“Yooooongi!” You whine, “Go!” He grins, kissing you one last time before heading out the door, glancing at you one last time over his shoulder before he was gone, leaving you and your daughter to go explore the wonders of BTS outside of the dressing rooms.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

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#bts

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chimivx-2 · 4 months

Text

best day ever. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader {ot7 here too}

summary: The birth of your daughter is memorable for everyone, especially those who lived those last few days pregnancy with you...

words: 24k

warnings: pregnancy, child birth, child birth gone slightly wrong, mental health mentions, struggles of mental health, subtle mention of unaliving oneself, descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks, swearing, mentions of sex/alcohol, MDNI. If I missed anything PLEASE TELL ME.

a/n: This was supposed to be out, like, over a week ago. I apologize for being late, but this was a bitch to get out. I'm proud of it though, and so happy I could touch on this part of this couple's life. Unsure of how it got to be that long, but.... Enjoy. xo. Thank you for your continued support. Life has been hard lately. Stay lovely.

~ August 28th, 2021 ~

Warm water trickled down the length of your shoulders, soothing all of the aches residing in your back- upper and lower. Standing in the center of the shower with your eyes shut directly beneath the water that came down on you like rainfall, you take a long deep breath and let it out with a gravely sigh.

“I don’t wanna wash my hair,” you nearly whined, tipping your chin backward so some water could run over your face.

Taking a step forward rubbing your eyes, you pulled back the pastel blue curtain and peeked out into the steamy bathroom.

“Want me to do it for you?” Sunny smiled, glancing up from her phone where she sat on the floor with her legs crossed under her. Poking out your bottom lip you make her laugh. “Sit down, but let me help you.”

Pushing the curtain open a bit more, you stay put, waiting patiently for Sunny to grab onto your hand that you hold out for her. She took it with a gentle grasp, yet firm as she guided you to sit down on the smooth tiled floor of the shower, placing her other hand on your back to ensure you didn’t lose your balance.

Dressed in dark leggings that accentuated her curvy hips and a cozy cropped t-shirt, your best friend wasn’t the least bit worried if she ended up soaked after this. She’d been staying at your place for about a week now, helping out around the house, keeping an eye on you while Yoongi got his work done, and talking him off the ledge when he threatened to quit his job for you and his unborn child.

Growing up with you, experiencing teenagedom with you, celebrating each other's twenty-first together… Washing your hair for you while you’re stark naked on the floor of a shower nine months pregnant is not something Sunny wanted to miss. She was away for nearly seven of these glorious months, still filming with the Kardashians, so the moment she knew she had a month off she was booking her flight.

It was truly perfect timing- Yoongi had been away for almost an entire week at this point.

The date, the inevitable mark on everyone's calendar was approaching, speeding toward your boyfriend at a tumultuous speed while it seemed to inch by for you.

While you sat peacefully in the bathroom, surrounded by a warm, serene fog as Sunny gave you the best shampoo of your life, Yoongi was stuck in a constant state of panic though he knew you were well taken care of.

Articles upon articles were open in his phone's search history, spending whatever free time he had either calling you or Googling how ‘on time’ first born babies arrived. To his relief every Mommy Blog let him know he had nothing to stress over and that statistically most first born babies were late by a day, or five.

For your sake he hoped your little one wouldn’t wait too long, they just had to wait until he was home.

“You’re so much better than Yoongi,” you sighed, leaning toward Sunny who gave you a giggle. The pads of her fingers scrubbed your scalp vigorously, but with a massaging movement that only a skilled cosmetologist like herself could do.

Dragging the tips of her fingers down to the nape of your neck, she caught your head as it lulled backward into her palms.

“No sleep,” she said at attention, making you regain muscle control. “Wait until we’re out of here, then you can snooze wherever you want, babe.”

Sitting up as straight as you could you flutter your eyes open and blink a couple of times, gazing down at your legs that were tucked beneath you, half hidden by the belly you’ve come to know and love. Sliding your hand up your side and over top of your bump, you give it a careful push, feeling around for your baby and where they were wedged right now.

This morning when you woke up it felt like the little one had a foot in your ribs, letting you know they were hungry and they needed to have some nurungji that very moment or else they’d make you cry. Thankfully Sunny whipped some up… and you cried anyway.

Right now it felt as if the little babe was snug at the bottom of your pelvis, making you wonder if they knew that it was almost time for them to get out of there.

You were due in four days.

August 31st, 2021.

A little Virgo for your little family, one who was ready to send their Pisces father into a daily tizzy, and already doing so without even taking their first breath.

“Tilt back,” Sunny’s voice is soft as she guides your head backward into the warm water, massaging her fingers through your locks to make sure there weren't any bubbles left behind.

Feeling your eyes start to close, you told yourself you wouldn’t fall asleep as you mumbled, “What time is it?”

“Uh, almost ten? I think?” Sunny questioned herself, piecing her answer together based off of when she last looked at her phone, reading a message from Yoongi himself.

Taking a deep breath, you groaned, “He lands in a day.”

Sunny smiled to herself. “Yes he does.”

“Wish he was here now,” you said. Eyes fully closed, you listen to Sunny as she moves to turn off the shower, yanking the curtain fully open to help you out. “I’m too comfy,” you whispered, and she let out a single, boisterous laugh.

“Get your bare ass off the floor, you need to get in bed.” Sunny secured a solid grip on both of your hands and aided in hoisting you to your feet. With a wobble, you smile at her as your knees straighten.

Stepping out of the shower and into a towel that your best friend wraps around you, you fold your hands over your belly and take a long, deep, refreshing breath.

As much as you were ready for it to be over, you truly couldn’t believe that in four days or so, you were going to be a mother. A tiny little bouncing baby, boy or girl, was going to be living in your home, beneath your roof, growing up with your care, and your love. They were going to grow into their own person, someone you’d love no matter who they became, someone you’d support no matter what they chose to do with their lives, or their career.

You no longer felt afraid. The anxiety of having a child, being responsible for another being so tiny and fragile had passed. Now you’re excited, you’re ready for it to happen, and so is Yoongi.

That’s what makes this entire experience incredibly easy. Yoongi. He was the best part, the sugar on top, the icing on the cake. He’s half of your little one, you truly wouldn’t have made it through this without him.

He was really good at hiding his baby meltdowns, and Sunny was really good at keeping it a secret for your sake.

“Four days,” she smiled at you now, the two of you making it into your bedroom where she rifles some sleep clothes from one of your black dressers, tossing them onto the bed.

Dropping the towel into the hamper by the bathroom door, you bob your head and take your time, steadying yourself to slip each leg into the shorts Sunny chucked. Sitting down on the comforter you grab the t-shirt she chose and pull it over your head. It was loose fitted and lightweight, everything you’d been wearing since July began had been just that.

“Four days,” you sighed, pausing to catch your breath. It seemed like every action within the past week exhausted you. Since the third trimester began, actually, everything was exhausting.

The stairs were a nuisance, shoes were pointless, cooking was just too much- you were afraid to make a mistake, you knew you’d sob- cleaning was a procrastinated task, and easy things like washing your hair were simply not worth it. Unless one had a friend nearby with talented fingers, then washing your hair was at the top of the list.

Days ago, before Yoongi left, everything felt perfect. He took care of it all, the chores, the hair washing, the shoe fixing. Things still felt perfect, you were healthy, Sunny was here, and Yoongi was heading home soon… but, you wished he didn’t have to go in the first place.

The night before he left you cried in his arms, right here in bed, for almost a half hour. It completely broke his heart, leaving him feeling incredibly guilty.

You both knew it was coming. You both knew he was going to have to go get work done, the music world waited for no one, no baby. At the start of it all you sat down and mapped out the nine months and what would ensue afterwards. Adjustments could be made where needed, if allowed, and the other parts- like shows, and concerts- you were going to have to live with.

You’ll say it until the day you die, time apart from Yoongi was nothing new.

However, nine months pregnant with his child, insufferably in love with him, you longed for his arms.

“What’re you thinking about, love?” Sunny asked softly, popping a hand on her hip as she leaned on the edge of your mattress. She’d been sleeping in here beside you the past few nights, it felt like the old New York days, and you both loved it.

Shrugging your shoulders you feel your lip threaten to quiver, the corners slipping into a downward pout. “I want him here,” you whispered, sucking in a shaky breath. Trying to withhold tears was no match for raging hormones, the sobs came out quietly.

“Oh, sweetie,” Sunny cooed, moving to sit next to you. She wraps an arm around your back and pulls you in, resting her head on top of yours where you laid it on her shoulder. “I know you do,” she said, dragging a hand over your thigh with a comforting squeeze. “Couple more hours, one more day. I guarantee you, when he’s back he’ll be here for not even five hours, and you’ll be begging me to get rid of him.”

Laughing, you sniffled and said, “He is really overprotective isn’t he?”

Sunny’s eyes go wild. “Girl, I don’t know how you do it. I send this man updates on the hour, every hour, and if I’m a minute late he’s hounding me!”

Tilting your chin up to give her a look, you raised a brow and smized, “Is that why Jin’s your little secret?” Sunny glanced down at you with pointed eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” her tone is hushed. Laughing again, you pick up your head and nudge her with your elbow.

“Whatever you say, Sunita,” you shook your head to which she scoffed.

“Don’t full name me,” she said in a sarcastic offense.

“Listen, alls I’m saying is the two of you really have the ‘I don’t do relationships, but I like you, so I’ll keep you close, but you can also live your life, and do your job, and no matter what we’ll always be each others, but we won’t hold each other back’ thing down. Props to you.”

Her jaw dropped somewhere in the middle of your remark. You read her like a book, but she wouldn’t expect anything less.

“Shut up,” is all she managed to say with a hidden smirk.

Pulling away from you, Sunny crawled up your cushiony mattress to pull down the covers, ushering for you to get beneath them. Following orders you slip your bare leg under the sheets and roll to your side before laying down on the pillows. Your best friend covers you with the comforter and leans over you to press a quick smooch to your forehead.

“Are you gonna sleep here?” you asked quietly. Your eyes begged her to stay, not entirely sure you were ready to be alone for a night or not. Sunny wasn’t ready for bed, not yet at least, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t slip in beside you once she was.

With a small pout she barely reacted and said, “Let me go clean the kitchen and straighten up, okay? Close your eyes, and try to get some sleep.”

“Don’t forget about me,” you mumbled as she shifted off the bed over to the door where she flipped off the light, leaving you in a strip of warm yellow glow from the doorway.

Propping a hand on her hip Sunny sighed with a smile. “Never. Now, rest.”

Two o’clock in the morning. August 29th, 2021.

A black SUV pulled up in front of the house with its headlights off. In the backseat, with his hands over his eyes, bouncing his leg anxiously sat Yoongi. The moment the car was put into park he reached for his phone and sucked in a breath, dialing for Sunny. She doesn’t even need to answer the phone, an alert is all that’s required, and she followed the directions she was given and she opened the front door.

He was home early, and you had absolutely no idea. Once he found out when he was leaving he arranged it with Sunny straight away. He’d surprise you.

As much fun as it was pulling it off, it didn’t take away the bouts of panic he had daily whenever you’d call, making him assume you’d gone into labor, or something baby related. Even on the plane, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, not when he wasn’t going to be able to be in contact with anyone for countless hours. For all he knows you could have birthed the entire child while he was in the air.

After he landed, however, Sunny calmed him and let him know you were showering and heading to bed without a single suspicion that you were going to get to see him tonight instead of having to wait a whole other day.

Getting out of the car, well, leaping out of the car, Yoongi bounded up the front stairs to your home and tossed his arms around Sunny for not even half of a second. He’s a total blur to her from the moment he gets out of the vehicle all the way to him dashing up the twisting stairs inside your quiet home. Sunny takes it upon herself to help Branson, the security guard who accompanied Yoongi home, bringing his belongings inside.

He doesn’t speak one word to anyone, and Branson tells Sunny that he had been silent the entire ride home. With his stomach in knots, how was he supposed to pretend to enjoy small talk?! All Yoongi wanted was to have you in his arms. That alone would alleviate his chest pain.

Approaching your bedroom with caution, Yoongi trembled with excitement. Time away from you crushed him, especially now. While you would tell him that time away was normal, and that the two of you handled it like rockstars, he was repulsed by the idea of it every damn time. He wished he’d never have to leave your side.

The door was open a bit, Yoongi assuming Sunny left it this way for your sake, so he tapped it with a finger, pushing it open some more. In the glow of the hallway light he spies your sleeping figure beneath the sheets, on your side of course, with a pillow behind your back for support. He can’t see it, but he knows there’s one between your knees as well. You’ve needed that since the twenty week mark.

Surprised you didn’t stir at the slight creak of the door, Yoongi took two steps into the bedroom and paused. At this point he figured you’d be able to smell him, and you’d wake up. But, you didn’t. You were sleeping soundly, thankfully. Taking a few more steps to the side of the bed, he pouts at the sight of your lashes fanning your cheeks. Your breaths were slightly shallow as your chest rose to accompany each one. A hand rests over your belly beneath your shirt, a hand that Yoongi wanted to be his.

In another flash, he was hitting records tonight, he changed out of his airport clothes and carefully got into bed next to you. The mattress sunk as he moved closer to you, something to finally signal to you that you weren’t alone.

“Knew you…” you begin, opening your eyes a bit to peek at who you thought was Sunny. Your voice trails off when you’re greeted by the smiling face of your boyfriend with a tear slipping down his cheek. “What the fuck?” you mumble, sitting up on your elbow. Rubbing your eyes with the hand that lived on your belly, you blinked many times and sighed.

“Hi,” he said quietly, his bottom lip crinkling the slightest.

Overwhelmed, the only thing you can do is burst into tears and reach your arms out to grab him. A soft laugh escaped him as he buried himself in your chest, slinging an arm around your back. Tangling a hand in his hair, you cling the other to the back of his t-shirt and hold him tight. So tight it’s as if you want to occupy the space he was taking up.

“D,” you mumbled, brushing your nose over his hair, pressing a kiss to his head that he lifted up to smile down at you.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, touching his nose to yours. Tears welled in his eyes, the sight made you cry again. Yoongi takes a hand to your cheek to wipe away the tears, laughing again. “I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he teased.

Sniffling, you take a quick breath and sobbed, “I am happy, this is happy. You don’t think I’m happy?”

“Okay, okay,” Yoongi smiled, pinching your cheek gently, placing a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose. “I know.”

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, tightening the grip you had him locked under. Yoongi, well aware of the pregnancy super strength, let it happen no matter how much it kinda hurt. He had to make up for the week he missed, and if he got all the hair pulling done in one night, it was worth it.

He had been working like a dog for the past week, being pressed to you was enough to make him instantly sleepy. His anxiety seemed to alleviate the longer he laid here pressing kisses to your cheeks. Brushing a hand through your damp hair, he pauses and looks at you.

“Did Sunny wash your hair?” he asked with a smirk. Having calmed down, you pressed your lips together and gave him a funny look.

“Yeah,” you said. “You jealous?”

“A little bit,” he whispered to your surprise, making you laugh. “I missed doing things for you.”

“Surely you did not miss washing my hair and helping me stand up after I pee,” you giggled, relaxing your grip on his hair to his relief. Yoongi’s eyes go wide.

“I did,” he said with his chest. “I really, really did. Helping you stand up after you pee, putting your hair up for you, taking your socks off, shaving your armpits, massaging random spots on your back ‘cause it hurts-”

“D!” you shouted, rolling your head backward. “I get it!”

“Do you?!” he laughed, kissing your cheek seven times. Taking a deep breath, you hold him carefully and nod.

“I do,” you sighed. Yoongi pulled back and gazed down at you.

“Hm, I like the sound of that,” he mumbled, then pressed his lips to yours fiercely.

~ August 29th, 2021 ~

Peaceful, homey chatter mixed with the upbeat melody of the music playing from the speakers on the wall filled the kitchen. It was half past ten in the morning, the sun was up and blazing down, keeping everyone locked indoors. At the white marble island in the center of your kitchen, you sat in one of the high top chairs on the end beside Yoongi with your feet crossed over his lap while he had his nimble fingers clamped to your ankles, working meticulously to ease their swelling in any way that he possibly could.

Popping the last strawberry from the plate on the counter into your mouth, you savor the sweet, tangy flavor and flutter your eyes shut with a sigh. From your boyfriend's massage to the heightened wonderful taste on your tongue, you’ve never felt more elated.

Sunny was across from you with her elbows on the marble, leaning over toward Yoongi, asking him endless questions about his trip and work. You heard every other word he said. The feeling you were experiencing right now made you want to crack a, ‘Yeah, sex is cool, but have you ever eaten a fresh, crisp strawberry while your hunk of a man massages your swollen pregnancy cankles?’ joke.

For a second you begin to wonder if you’ve actually said it out loud because the two of them laugh. Darting your eyes open you question them with a quirk of a brow.

Sunny’s charming smile finds you first. “This is what I’ve been trying to achieve for a week.”

“What?” you muttered, your glazed over eyes pointing to Yoongi.

His black hair was parted in the middle, sweeping over his dark eyes like a summer's breeze over a field of flowers. The clear, pale skin of his cheeks seemed so soft it made you want to reach out your hand and touch him. He wore a white t-shirt that clung to his chest, defining every muscle, or lack thereof, beneath it. Appearing calm, happy, and proud, his eyes spoke another language. One you were all too familiar with. Or so you thought.

“Baby?” Yoongi asked, and it pulled you out of your thoughts. They had been talking to you the entire time you were drinking in his beauty.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced back and forth between him and Sunny and mumbled, “Wha- Huh?”

The two laugh at you, again.

Unsure as to why they were ganging up on you when you had done absolutely nothing wrong, you kicked your feet off of Yoongi’s lap as his hands had just started to slide up your shins, and sighed heavily.

“Hey, what’s the…” Yoongi began, eyeing you as you slid off your chair, wobbled onto your feet and started to circle the counter. “Baby,” he whined. “Come back.”

A snicker escaped Sunny.

Hearing it from behind her back made it sound utterly condescending. Next to her now, you shoot your boyfriend a glare after you find him giving your best friend a smile. They were literally plotting together and you were standing right here.

“This has also been happening all week,” Sunny mumbled, and you’re not sure whether or not you were supposed to hear it. Either way, it makes Yoongi bob his head with sympathy. As if you asked Sunny to be here, to take care of you while you suffered through the end of this emotional rollercoaster. She brought herself here, you didn’t ask.

Snatching the empty plate, just barely reaching it with your fingertips (your belly not allowing you to move closer), you grit your teeth.

Yoongi muttered something that sounded a lot like, “...almost done…” and it sunk your heart to your knees. Turning away from the counter quickly, you shut your eyes as tears begin to form, and then the next best thing occurs to add to this joyous moment of betrayal.

The plate you grabbed slipped from your fingers, frisbeeing to the hardwood floor in front of the stove, shattering into a thousand pieces. The sound was scary enough to make one jump, and then make you realize you really had to pee, but now you were trapped between Sunny and the ceramic shard minefield.

“Don’t move,” Yoongi scrambled to his feet fast, the sound triggering him to quite literally slide over the counter top on his bottom, landing on his feet behind you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, the feeling of his skin on yours makes the tears that were already falling immensely worse. In his grip everything felt okay, but only for a second.

“Here,” Sunny appeared in a flash, having hurried away for a broom that was kept in the closet by the winding staircase in the foyer. “Let me clean this up.”

Yoongi guides you away from the mess, kissing you delicately on the cheek. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”

Shaking your head back and forth seemingly violently, you sniffled and sobbed, “I gotta pee.” Yoongi laughed, to your dismay. He ushered you toward the bathroom though, shutting the door behind the two of you.

Sliding his hands around your waist to the elastic band that hugged your bump, you smacked them away even though you were squeezing your knees together. Yoongi pulled back, raising his hands in the air like he was being held at gunpoint, and judging by your glare, one would say that he actually was.

“Baby, you’re-”

“I can do it,” you bite, helping yourself, dropping the shorts you wore to bed around your ankles. “Turn around.”

“Are you serious, I’ve seen-”

“Turn around!”

Hushed, he said, “Okay,” folding his hands in front of himself. Adjusting his stance, he stared at the white wood of the bathroom door instead of you, his pregnant girlfriend. His pregnant girlfriend who was due in three days. His pregnant girlfriend who was due in three days, who couldn’t sneeze without peeing, who couldn’t sleep for longer than two hours at a time, who he had left for a week and just came back and ruined a fantastic morning because he was laughing at you with your best friend…

You were crying again. Sitting on the toilet, having done your business after yelling at him, you were crying.

Rocking on his heels a bit, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder, but kept his gaze pointed down. “Are you okay?”

Wiping your cheeks with your palms you shudder through a breath and shake your head. “I can’t stop crying,” you whispered.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi said. “You’re allowed to cry.”

His words warm your heart, but don’t give you enough comfort, because you remembered you tossed that plate across your kitchen. And you broke it. And it shattered into a billion pieces. And then Sunny cleaned it up. Your mess. She cleaned up the mess that you made.

Out of everything you’ve come to experience within the nine months of your pregnancy, sobbing hysterically on the toilet with your boyfriend turned away from you was not on the bingo card. The internet and the books warned you about everything else, every possibility, every event, every change, but they never said anything about this. This had to be an original experience, one that maybe you’d share one day in hopes that someone else has hysterically sobbed on the toilet with their significant other in the room.

Thinking about it all, the entire morning, the last five minutes, it all seemed so small. The little one you carried was the reason it all appeared to be a giant, huge, big deal.

“Do you want to talk about it?” was all Yoongi needed to say to break open the floodgates.

“I was fine, it was all fine, until you guys laughed at me, I mean, I wasn’t even…” An abrupt pause of a deep breath is ripped between nearly every phrase as you power through your lament. “I wasn’t even doing… doing anything! I was just sitting there, what was so funny? It hurt my feelings. And Sunny laughed at me again, and you… you smiled at her like what she said was, like, right, or something! Like… I inconvenienced her into coming here, and I was, I was mean or something? I don’t even remember…”

Yoongi listened with a frown, biting onto his bottom lip to keep a smile to himself. He was well aware of the hormones in the room. If you weren’t carrying his child a laugh in your direction wouldn’t bother you the slightest.

“And, and then,” a sniffle, “And-then-I-threw-the-plate-and-I-didn’t-mean-to,” your words strung together, “I yelled at you, and now I. Can’t. Stand. Up!”

Yoongi swallowed another smile. “Can I turn around now?” he asked gently, asking for permission as nicely as he could to not set off another sob bomb.

“Please,” you whispered, holding up your hands for him to take when he turned to face your tear stained cheeks. Keeping his expression clear of any emotion, he cradles your hands in his and helps you up. He even fixed your clothes for you and dropped a pump of soap in your hands, turning the sink water on to a comfortable temperature.

Standing behind you, he gives you a smile in the mirror, one you attempt to return now that you’ve stopped crying. Analyzing your own appearance you’re not surprised to find your eyes red and a little puffy, cheeks glistening like no other. Looking back at your boyfriend's reflection, he looked like he did in the kitchen. Beautiful. You’ve been without that beautiful face for a week. You wanted nothing more than for him to hold you, and for some reason he wasn’t doing it.

Turning toward him, he copies your pout.

“What do you need, my love?” he asked softly.

You didn’t want to say it, he should know. You didn’t want to tell him, because you were still mad at him for laughing at you. You didn’t want to say it and seem weak, not if he and Sunny were going to play mind games.

That thought alone threatened to make you cry for the millionth time.

So you gave in. Holding out your arms, you close your eyes and beckon him closer, feeling the warmth of his body surround you in milliseconds. He stepped into your embrace quickly, taking you in his arms carefully, yet passionately, holding you against his chest tight enough that you could feel his heart beating.

It’s quiet for a minute or two, you’re not sure, you didn’t count, you wanted to stand here like this for hours. It was quiet, it was peaceful, and you loved him too damn much.

“I’m sorry I laughed,” he said after a while, one of his hands smoothing over your lower back. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. You looked adorable, I couldn’t help myself, honestly.

You listened with content, allowing his words to heal the crack in your heart.

“You’re always adorable, you’re always beautiful, but I swear,” he paused, lifting his head to rest his forehead against yours, “I’ve never seen you glow the way that you have been these past couple of months.”

Flickering your eyes to his lips, a smile tugs at your own. “That means it’s a boy.”

Yoongi furrowed his brows, continuing to speak so quietly, keeping the words trapped between your bodies. “What d’you mean?” he asked, his tone rushed.

“Yanno,” you shrugged slightly, then utter quietly, “Girls take away all the pretty, apparently.”

Processing what you’ve just said, Yoongi held in a chuckle for your sake and instead said, “Impossible. You’ll always be pretty. She didn’t take anything.”

A small gasp escaped your lips. “You think it’s a girl?” Your eyes gleamed in admiration.

Yoongi grinned. “I think it’s a girl,” he whispered.

“Me too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, tightening your grip on his back. “I didn’t want to say anything, though. I know we don’t wanna make assumptions.” Yoongi’s eyes widened, and if he could, he would jump up and down.

“Fuck it, let’s assume, I’ve thought it was a girl since January,” he said.

“What!” you half-shriek, giggling in his arms. “Since January!? She wasn’t any gender in January!”

Yoongi’s smile grew, if that was even possible. ��You just said ‘she’.”

“Did I?”

“You did.” His eyes were mischievous.

“Shit, I did,” you breathed. The look on his face made you want to melt into a puddle on the tiled floor beneath his feet. “You wanna be a girl dad?”

Parting his lips to speak, he snapped his jaw shut instead, pressing his lips together tight. His eyes flicker between yours, the light within them sparkling with the glow of a thousand stars.

Voice soaked in sappy sweetness, Yoongi whispered, “Yeah… I wanna be a girl dad.”

“Guess we’ll find out soon,” you grinned, nuzzling your nose against his.

“In like… two days.”

“Two days.”

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, taking a glance at your belly that was pressed to his middle.

“Do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to sugar coat it?” you lifted a brow to make him laugh, his hands swimming along your back.

After a quick peck to your nose, he whispered, “Be honest. Always.”

“I’m over it,” you sighed, getting another laugh out of him. The sound wrapped around your heart and squeezed it tight, threatening to make you cry again. “I mean, I just want her here so we can meet her.” Yoongi’s smile softened as he nodded. “Would also love it if she’d stop standing on my bladder.” You laughed together now, Yoongi scooping your cheeks in his hands to plant a kiss to your lips.

“But,” you mumbled, your voice vibrating against the plush pink lips that cradled your own, “I don’t feel like she’s coming anytime soon.” Yoongi pulled away not even an inch to eye you curiously. “She dropped a little, I think,” taking one of his hands, you pressed it to your belly to show him where your little one was laying, “But, she’s comfy. I feel normal.”

A mischievous smirk graced his lips. “Bet I can get her out,” he smized. Dropping your chin as your cheeks flushed, you huffed a laugh and couldn't hold back your smile. Taking a finger to your jaw, your boyfriend lifts your eyes back to his and gives you a small kiss. “I also, selfishly of course, need you.”

Now the tears were a thing of the past. Crying was so five minutes ago.

Yoongi, trailing behind you, chuckled as you just about barreled past him into the kitchen. The floor was clean, as were the counters, like the three of you weren’t occupying this space mere moments ago. Sunny was missing, and though your heart tightened at the thought of her leaving, one glance to your boyfriend checking your phone, then shooting you a devious look made your knees buckle.

“Where…” your voice trailed off. Taking to your back, Yoongi wrapped an arm around your front, gripping your shoulders, walking you toward the stairs. His lips caressed the valley of skin exposed to him below your neck, emitting a low groan from his chest as your head lolled back onto his shoulder.

“Airport,” he answered your unfinished question, gently nipping at the skin his teeth grazed over. “Jin’s here. They won’t be back for a couple hours.”

“And… and then,” you sighed heavily between your words, Yoongi’s lips melting your brain to absolute mush. You weren’t sure you were going to make it up the stairs. You were over pregnancy, like totally ready for it to be done, but you were really going to miss how it heightened everything you felt. “Then… We’ll be the ones who have to leave…”

He chuckled at your breathlessness, kissing your cheek. “They’re totally hooking up, aren’t they?” Your eyes shot open.

“Of course they are, D,” you scoffed. “And so are we,” you grabbed his hand, regaining your balance as best as you could, tugging him to the steps, “If I make it upstairs.” Yoongi pulled you back for a half of a second.

“Couch, babe, if you don’t wanna do the stairs,” he offered, gesturing in the direction of your living room. Glancing to the room with a pout, you shift the puppy dog eyes over to him and sighed dramatically. Your pregnancy speciality. “What?” he hid his laugh of admiration for your emotions sake.

Placing a hand over the back of your hip, you whined, “I can’t lay there, hurts my back.” Your twisted brows make it impossible for him to hide his laugh this time. “I’m sorry!” you attempted to laugh with him, dropping half your body weight onto him. “That’s so not sexy, I’m sorry, oh my god!”

Sliding his arms around your waist with a grin, Yoongi takes you in his arms and digs his fingertips into the spot of your lower back you had grabbed. With your arms circled over his shoulders, you run your fingers through his hair and tangle your digits in the waves. His nimble fingers pressed into the curve of your hip delicately, but with purpose, working out any kink that was causing you pain.

His lips brushed over your cheek, your ear. A warm, gentle breath fanned over your neck, the exposed skin erupting in chills as if it weren’t the end of August. “You could say anything… And, I mean anything… And I’d still want you. Sexy, or not.” A sigh escaped you as his fingers dug deeper into your muscle. “I stand by what I said, I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than you do right now.” The sigh turned into a groan, your lips parting as relief flooded your being. “That feel good?” he whispered to you, kissing your temple.

Tightening your grip on him to not completely collapse, you nod your head, a quiet moan slipping past your lips. “S-so good.”

Yoongi laughed, breathlessly, mumbling a soft, “If we go upstairs I can do so much more.”

“Bet,” you said, pushing away from him, taking yourself over the stairs.

Hurrying after you, Yoongi laughed, placing his hands on your back to help you up the dual level steps. “Did you just say bet?”

“Sure did,” you said, completely serious, huffing with each step. Pausing halfway through your ascent, you turn to him and grip his cheeks between one of your hands, fingers squishing his lips into a pout. Tired already, you take a deep breath and scowl. “You get her out, you hear me?”

He attempted to smile, and said, “I promise,” muffled by the grip you had him held under.

~ August 30th, 2021 ~

The house was quiet. It had been all day.

Even with Sunny and Jin beneath the same roof, it was quiet.

Waking up this morning was easy. Simple. Of course it wasn’t even past four o’clock, but you got up with ease and tiptoed quietly into your baby’s nursery without even knowing Yoongi had barely slept at all. His tired eyes watched you sneak off, his awareness concealed by the soft morning light that leaked through the curtains. Rolling onto his back he folded his hands over his chest and waited for you to come back, wondering where you crept off to, and when it took longer than ten minutes for you to return, he got up to find you, hoping you had fallen asleep elsewhere. He had felt your restlessness all night.

Taking to the hall quietly, Jin and Sunny still sound asleep in the guest room, Yoongi stepped into the nursery knowing there was no way in hell you’d want to go all the way downstairs without anyone to lean on. Sliding himself into the half cracked door, his lips twisted into a soft smile when he found you elbow deep in one of the little’ ones drawers, reorganizing the clothes for the umpteenth time.

This was the third time he’s seen you do it since he’s been back home. Sunny let him know you’d been messing with the nursery all week, unable to leave things alone. Hell, even before he left for work you were starting to go a little stir crazy, but he knew you couldn’t help it.

Taking a deep breath to make himself known so he wouldn’t scare the pants off of you, you still whirled around with a gasp, clutching your belly and squeezing your legs together. “Jesus, D! You want me to pee!?” His smile grew.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, taking slow steps to your side, gazing around the nursery with a warm glow in his eyes. “I can’t get over how cute it is in here, you did a great job.”

“You helped me,” you raised your eyebrows, holding open your arms so he’d take you within his. Slipping his arms under yours, he tapped the open drawer behind your back to shut it, then planted his hands on your backside.

With a glance over your shoulder, you frowned. “No, I wasn’t done,” you mumbled. Following your gaze, Yoongi kept his eyes on yours, settling his brows on his forehead.

“It’s perfect. It’s all perfect,” he whispered. “I promise you.”

Scrunching your face, you look at your boyfriend and bite your bottom lip. You were sick and tired of crying, but there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening. The tears fell quietly. Burying your face in his neck, Yoongi lets you cry. He doesn’t say anything to make it stop, he doesn’t fill you with words you’ve heard many, many times before, he just lets it happen.

A soothing rub of his hand on his back seems to keep you somewhat calm, and the way he took his own deep breaths triggered you to do so as well, to not get yourself too worked up. You felt insanely guilty. Here you were, the day before the estimated date of your child's arrival, and you were sobbing, clinging to your boyfriend who had only been home for about forty eight hours, and you’d been crying for half of those hours.

To be fair, you had tossed and turned all night because the pain shooting up through your back was excruciating. Yesterday you had told Yoongi you felt normal, like your little one wasn’t going to be on her way for a while, but the moment you got into bed for the night the soreness in your back seemed to grow tenfold.

To make matters worse, the back pain was accompanied by a cramping you hadn’t felt in months, and you did not miss that feeling. You felt like you were back in the beginning of your pregnancy, you were tired, you were nauseous, you were cramping, you were restless, you were so many things wrapped into one that you didn’t know what else to do besides move the baby’s clothes around again.

The waiting game was excruciating.

But, if the internet was right, all the discomfort you were feeling meant your little one was almost here.

“I don’t feel good,” you mumbled against Yoongi’s shoulder. “I haven’t felt good for days, Yoongi.” The full name hit him in the heart, and it hurt. Not because he didn’t like to hear you say it, but because that’s how he knew you were in pain. The shaky breath he sucked in made your tears fall faster.

“I know, my love,” he breathed, cradling you tight. “You’re almost there. I’m so proud of you.” He planted a kiss on the top of your head. “You’ve been doing so well.” The gentle praises seemed to have calmed you down some, so he continued. “This nursery is beautiful, baby. So beautiful, ‘cause of you. You did all of this, I just put the furniture together.” A small laugh came from where you laid. Lifting your head to flash him your teary eyes, he pursed his lips and wiped your cheeks clean with his thumbs. “So pretty.”

Offering him a smile, you tip your chin forward to kiss his lips. Your hand slid up his shoulder, his left shoulder. Giving it a decent squeeze you drop your gaze to it and work your fingers into it gently. Yoongi doesn’t say a word, instead his eyes flutter shut and a breath slips through his lips.

“You been okay?” you asked. Yoongi cracked his eyes open. The look he gave you made you laugh.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you,” you whispered.

The air between the two of you swirled with moments of your past, a thousand and one memories surrounding you, drowning you in the depths of nostalgia. Standing here together in the room you put together for your child, you’re reminded within the silence of the years the two of you have braved together.

You’ve seen Yoongi hit his absolute lowest points, and you’ve gotten him back up on his feet. He’s seen you do just the same, and he’s fought for you every time.

Recounting the moments where you’ve had to set aside your own troubles so that you could hold onto him, to make sure he didn’t leave you in this life alone, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude that he was here standing before you, holding onto you. He was everything. The sun, the moon, the stars, whatever the cheesy shit is that people in love gush about… It was him, he was everything.

Amidst your whisper you realize he can see straight into the grinding gears of your mind, reliving it all with you in his arms. In this crazy, whirlwind life he’s seemed to have lived the equivalent of thirty, but none compare to the one he’s created with you. Because of you.

He never once dreamed of what he has now, until he met you. His career, this home you’ve built together, this child you were about to bring into the world, his joy… His life. He owed it all to you.

Inhaling deep, Yoongi bobbed his head a smidge, acknowledging everything. The two of you rarely got sappy with one another, you were both the type to feel what you had to feel then move on, but in the middle of a nursery about to birth a child you would share, it felt right this time.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Pressing a kiss to his lips, you lingered there for a moment. “I love you, too.”

Mere hours later, Yoongi had you camping on the couch. After the moment in the nursery he had brought you downstairs where you got comfy on the sofa, curled up with a blanket and finally shut your eyes. Once he knew you were snoozing he set himself up on the adjacent couch with his laptop and got some work done.

He’d get this third album out eventually. At some point. By the end of this year, hopefully. Although, that was coming quick… He just kept telling himself it wouldn’t take three years to put this project together. But, it’d already been a year since he started…

“What goes on?” Sunny’s voice whispered from the archway. Her natural bouncy curls were out and about as she peered into the living room, nodding toward your sleeping being. Yoongi, sleepy eyes illuminated by the screen of his computer, takes a long, overdue deep breath.

Pushing the screen down with a single finger, he leans forward over his folded knees and takes you in. “Need it to be over,” he mumbled. Sunny shifted where she stood, unsure of how to question him further. “She’s gotta have the kid tomorrow, Sun, I don’t know what we’re gonna do if she goes any longer.”

A soft hum comes out of her as an answer, seeming to agree with him.

“Would she sleep when I wasn’t here?” he asked, feeling like he already knew the answer. Sunny shrugged.

“Barely, I mean, she was so uncomfortable, she is uncomfortable.”

Screwing his brows together Yoongi shook his head. “She’s… not okay. As much as she tries to convince us that she is, she’s not.” Sunny pouted her fuller lips and nodded. “But, fuck, she’s killing this pregnant thing.”

A breathless laugh came out of your best friend. “Hell yeah, she is. Prettiest pregnant person I’ve ever seen.” Yoongi laughed with her.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” he perked a brow.

Sunny’s smile relaxed into something soft as she eyes the curve of your belly beneath the blanket. With another shrug she said, “She’s happy.”

With the intent to slip away to make herself a cup of coffee now that it was nearing half past eight in the morning, Sunny turned around into a pair of warm, welcoming arms that pulled her close, holding her tight. Never seeing the two interact so intimately before, Yoongi’s eyes widened curiously, smirking, but only because Jin assumed they were down here alone.

“Good morn-“ the man who shared his height with Sunny began with a sultry smile. That is until he caught Yoongi perched on the couch over his lover's shoulder. “Hey!” Jin hasn’t reacted to anything this fast in his entire life, the arms recoiled in milliseconds. Scanning the room with a brief glance, taking it all in, acknowledging that everyone was present, he slipped his tongue between his lips and bobbed his head.

Turning to the woman in front of him, Jin holds out a hand to politely, yet hilariously, shake her hand, muttering a, “‘Sup.”

Shooting Yoongi a glare while wearing a smile, Sunny rolled her eyes and took herself into the kitchen, leaving the boys behind.

“You know you don’t have to do that right?” Yoongi eyed Jin as he circled the couches to plop beside him, almost ruffling your hair as he passed by you, but your boyfriend nearly leapt out of his seat before he could touch you. “No- Oh, god- Jin.”

Laughing behind his teeth, the eldest took a breath, trying to sneak a peek at Yoongi’s laptop. “Any other day I’d do it, just to be a menace,” Jin said quietly, respecting your sleep. “No way in hell I’d mess with her right now,” he eyed his best friend, “But, you on the other hand…”

Yoongi deadpanned at the work on his screen.

“You ready for all this?” Jin asked, his tone drenched in genuinity.

Yoongi resumed his project. “Ready for all what?”

“You’re about to be a dad,” Jin’s grin could light up the room, if the sun weren’t already doing it. Yoongi took a small, barely noticeable deep breath. “You ready?”

“I have to be.”

Jin folded his arms over his chest, sinking further into the cushion to sneak a glimpse of whatever was holding Yoongi’s attention. “I barely got to see you yesterday, you two were in bed when Sun and I got here. Did’ja surprise her like you wanted?”

“Yep.”

“You think she’ll actually pop tomorrow?” Jin glanced at you for only a moment, resting his eyes back on Yoongi’s expressionless work face.

“I dunno.”

“Is that like, a thing? Somebody having their kid on their actual due date?” Jin seemed to babble on mindlessly. “Oh my god,” he almost gasped, an epiphany striking him. “Yanno how some kids are born early, and some kids are born late? What if that sets us up for the future?” Yoongi, unable to focus on anything now, scrunched his fists into balls. “Like, it tells us what kind of person we are before we know-“

“Oh my god, Seokjin,” Yoongi groaned, making his best friend laugh with glee. He finally tore his eyes away from his work to shoot him a hardened glare. “I’m telling them you’re enlisting tomorrow, shut up!”

Jin’s jaw fell open. “Ouch,” he forced out with another laugh. “You don’t mean that.”

Yoongi hesitated, half meaning it and half wishing he could take it back, dancing somewhere in between the two simply out of sleep deprivation. “Sorry,” he whispered, taking one look into his friend's worried eyes before crunching back over his keyboard.

Jin blinked, glancing to where you slept. Without saying a word he rose to his feet and rounded the couches, heading toward the archway to the foyer. Yoongi’s eyes snapped up to his back.

“Where are you going?” He pushed the words out in a hurry. Jin paused, looking over his shoulder with a small smile. Placing a finger over his lips he pretended to lock them with a key, motioning toward your sleeping figure. He was a babbling, energetic gust of whirlwind, but Yoongi couldn’t get through the rest of these days without him here.

Jin left for the kitchen and returned with two mugs, one for Yoongi and one for himself. Reclaiming his spot on the sofa he sat a bit closer to the soon-to-be father and pushed the coffee into his hand. Yoongi watched it happen wearily, giving Jin a quick glance as a ‘thank you’, and took a small sip letting the pure black, bitter, comforting drink take away his worries for all of three seconds.

Going back in for a second one, you stirred where you laid, making both men lurch forward, gasping internally. Well, Jin did.

On your side facing the boys, you crossed your legs differently than before, and then you crossed them differently after that. And then, you did it again. And again.

“Here,” Yoongi said quietly, handing the mug back to Jin, speaking from straight intuition that something was about to happen. Jin, curious, eyed his best friend, then yourself, and when you cracked your eyes open and mumbled your boyfriend's name, the eldest would’ve lost it if you weren’t terribly grouchy. Yoongi’s attentiveness was admirable.

Placing his laptop on the couch, screen facing Jin, Yoongi promptly appeared at your side and took one of your hands in his, crouching beside you on the floor. Rubbing his thumb along yours, Yoongi smiles at you, hiding everything he had been feeling minutes prior. You were awake, he had no time to stress, no time to worry about anything, no time to be anxious. You had his complete, undivided attention.

“D,” you whispered. His smile grew.

“See, now this is an appropriate hour to wake up,” he said. Squinting, you questioned the time, and when he muttered that it was around nine you tried to prop yourself up on your elbow. “No, baby, lay down.” Yoongi’s words were broken with a chuckle.

“Gotta get up,” you breathed, pushing away his hands if they attempted to get you to get you to relax. “Too much to do.”

Yoongi gripped both of your hands tight. You were unable to escape, but to be fair, you were too tired and didn’t feel like putting up much of a fight. “You’ve already done everything,” he smirked. “It’s all done, we said that earlier. Your only job now is to lay here and look pretty.”

“Shut up,” you droned, and Jin snickered. Karma. Jaw falling open, you actually tried to sit up this time. “Jin?!”

The eldest adjusted his posture so you wouldn’t have to move to see him. A loving smile graced his lips. “Guilty,” he said.

“How long have you been here?” you asked as Yoongi slid his hand from your laced fingers up to your shoulder, massaging the skin gently. Jin gave you a shrug.

“Since last night. You guys were asleep,” he said. Shifting your gaze to your boyfriend, both of you share a look. There was no way in hell either of you were sleeping, though it may have appeared that way. These couple hours of shut eye on the couch were attempting to make up for a week of snoozeless nights.

Holding an arm out to Jin, you wiggled your fingers, enticing him to move to your couch. “C’mere,” you mumbled. “I missed you.” Following suit, he plops down by your feet leaving ample space between you, avoiding any bumps. A frown tugs at your lips, and Yoongi laughs. “Come here.” Kicking out a foot you nudge Jin’s arm with your big toe.

“I’d listen if I were you,” Yoongi teased. Your arm swung over to him like a reflex, nudging him as well.

“Shut up,” you groaned, then within milliseconds your eyes softened. Yoongi shook his head, hoping to clog up the waterworks before they began, but his effort had failed. “Oh god, I’m being mean.” A sniffle came from you as Jin wedged himself under your legs, covering you up snuggly with the blanket. “I’m sorry.” A soft cry escaped you. Covering your face with your hands, you take a deep breath. “I don’t wanna be mean,” you muttered into your tearstained palms. “She’s making me mean.”

Jin’s ears perked up. “She?” he asked swiftly, eyes darting from you to Yoongi. “She?” His volume started to rise. “It’s a girl?”

From the kitchen, Sunny’s voice vibrated along the walls, “Hold up!” Her persistence made you laugh, aiding Yoongi to take a breath. Slipper wearing feet shuffled along the floors, getting louder until Sunny came into view, her beautiful self ready to topple over the back of the couch as she latched onto one of your arms. Peeling your hands away, you smiled at her. “It’s a girl!?” Your grin widened. “You knew this and you didn’t tell me? I’ve been living here a week, and you didn’t tell me? It’s- She’s supposed to come out of you tomorrow, and you DIDN’T TELL ME?”

“Sun!” you cackled, ignoring the sharp pain in your abdomen. “We have no idea what they’re going to be, it’s just a guess.” Sliding a hand over your belly, you pressed your fingers over where the pain came from, the dull cramp still lingering. The knot intensifies, rolling around to your back as if your little one themself was stretching out their limbs, running out of room where they’ve been living happily for nine months.

Falling into their own chatter about the baby’s gender and their guesses, your family surrounding you warmed your heart. You’ve needed their support, and you’ve had it every step of the way, up until the very end where they’ve put up with you snapping at them, and saying irrational things out of a blind hormonal rush.

Pressing your fingers against your belly a bit harder to help ease the tightness, it only seemed to make it worse. Arching your back, lifting your entire being up off the sofa by at least an inch, you groan aloud in pain silencing the room. The sharp pain in your lower back could only be best described as somebody hammering a nail into your pelvis, and they weren’t being very forgiving. “Motherfucker,” you gasped, grabbing onto Yoongi, any part of him, and squeezing whatever you had in your grip.

“If your water breaks right now I will freak out,” Sunny said.

Thoughts clouded with pain, sharp, stabbing, cramping, tight pain- You can’t find it in your heart to try to laugh at her, and she doesn’t expect you to. All three of their beating hearts had stopped, watching you anxiously, hoping to whoever they believed in that you wouldn’t pop right here, right now. As much as everyone wanted this to be over, right now didn’t feel like the time. Everyone silently hoped that the day would be tomorrow.

A voice breaks the pain barrier, Yoongi trying to soothe you, coaching you to breathe. With a scrunched up face you suck in air through your nose and push it out of your lips with haste. The knife in your back lets up after a few more breaths that begin to slow down.

Blinking, you take in Jin and Sunny’s eyes wide with worry. Sunny’s brows were settled in the center of her forehead, her full lips pulled into a pout. Jin appeared simply terrified. Yoongi however, was the face of patience. The moment you met his gaze he smiled.

“Better?” he asked. Raising a brow, you relax the fist you had wrapped around his forearm. His cream colored skin is blushing where your fingers just were.

“That was the worst it’s been,” you whispered, dragging your pinky over the mark you had left.

“You’ve felt that before?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. You nod in response, receiving a silent sigh in return. “Why haven’t you told me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

His expression went wild. One of his hands latched onto yours. “Baby, I’m the reason she’s in there, you have to tell me if you’re in pain, okay?”

Jin snapped his fingers. “You said she again, bro.” Yoongi deadpanned, making you giggle. Turning his focus to his best friend, you look up at yours and find her holding back a laugh as well. “Don’t give me that look, you literally said-”

“Forget what I said!” Yoongi snapped, screwing his face up before he laughed. “She’s not- I mean, we don’t know what she is- Damn!” Jin was hysterical, throwing his head back onto the sofa as he gripped your legs. While your boyfriend shouts, you feel the little one within you wiggle, then kick like mad, as if they wanted to help their father defend himself.

Throwing a hand in the air and one over your belly, you silenced the room and said, “She’s moving.” Jin audibly expressed his grief of you using the wrong pronoun and jutted a hand toward you, but Sunny shut him up, shoving his shoulder.

Three hands slid over your belly, warming you. They waited, quietly egging your little one on to dance about, though they’ve seemed to have acquired a bout of stage fright. Flickering your eyes to Yoongi, he catches your gaze and smirks.

“You want me to talk,” he said, seemingly to no one. Nothing happened. “I am right here,” he glanced around at the audience, “We are all right here.” His tone was the gentlest Jin and Sunny had ever heard. “We can’t wait to meet you, we’re so excited.”

A soft bump tapped Sunny's palm, and she gasped. It wasn’t the first time she’s felt the baby move, but every time felt like the first. “Yoongi, don’t you dare shut up,” she said, her voice nearly inaudible.

“You know you’re killing your mom right now,” Yoongi huffed. Giggling along with him you made your little one go nuts, everyone exclaiming at the dance. “You are so loved, you are so loved.” He paused to collect his thoughts, wondering if this was something he wanted to share out loud. The baby waited, listening for their father. “I never doubted you for a second,” he said. “From the moment I knew… You were something I had to have for the rest of my life.”

Moving your attention from your belly to your boyfriend, you find him not even admiring the bump, but instead, yourself. Blinking away the sting of tears in your eyes, you start to smile.

“It was July, it was hotter than hell,” his eyes were gleaming with pride. “I was… a mess, really, when you found me.”

“You found me,” you whispered. The baby hadn’t eased their kicking, they were happier than ever.

Yoongi gripped your hand tight. “Sure,” he blinked. “But, from that night on, you found me.” He moved your hands over his heart bringing your burning eyes to tears. “We found us. I could never even begin to imagine doing this with somebody else.”

“I love you.” A whisper, just for him.

Yoongi kissed the back of your hand. “I love you.”

“Oh my god.” Sunny pulled her hand off of your belly and wiped her own tears. She took a deep breath and said, “Enough out of you two, let’s go eat, please.” Jin shot her a grin, reaching his hand back to caress one that she placed on the back of the sofa. “Yoongi, you grab the girls, Seokjin let’s go.” She didn’t bother to keep their hands together as she hurried off toward the kitchen.

No one dared to acknowledge her use of girls.

“Come on, you’ve gotta be hungry,” Yoongi said. Standing up he held out a hand to help you up. You responded with a shake of your head. “You haven’t eaten since dinner last night, and even then you didn’t have much.” Another shake.

“Not hungry,” you fluttered your eyes shut, smoothing both hands over your bump. Yoongi studied the unease in your brows, sighing to himself.

“You can have whatever you want, it doesn’t need to be breakfast.” His offer didn’t make it anymore interesting. The idea of ingesting anything at the moment makes you want to be sick. He seemed to catch on by the way your lips pulled down. “How about some water then?”

The pain that moved through you was back, duller this time around, but very much there.

“I don’t want it,” you groaned. “Don’t want anything.”

Yoongi glanced toward the kitchen through the living room archway once, enticing Sunny to come back in here with his mind. If he couldn’t convince you to have something, he was certain your best friend would.

But, she never came back. It was you and him left to the living room, and it was up to Yoongi to get you into the kitchen. Now that he was home he knew that Sunny didn’t want to take up too much of your time, nor did she want to feel your wrath. As much as she was there to help you, and as much as you didn’t want to be a pain in the ass, everyone knew that it was inevitable. It was up to Yoongi. Sunny was off duty, and laughing the morning away in the sunny kitchen with Jin.

You laid on that couch for another three hours, only getting up to use the bathroom. Yoongi would help you up, and back down- and through everything in between. Around noon he offered up another chance to eat, but you refused.

The trio came in and out throughout the day, Yoongi spending most of his time either on the couch beside you rubbing your ankles, or spread out on the floor next to where you laid to get some work done. Listening to some of the songs he had already prepared for his next album, your little one was having the most fun.

“Play that one again,” you mumbled, gesturing at the screen to a file labeled ‘Haegeum???’. “She’s going crazy.”

With a smile he clicked play, letting the bass fill the empty air, and sure enough your baby was bouncing. Flickering your eyes to the corner of his laptop you spied the clock that read 3:37 PM. Your stomach growled. Finally.

You’ve gone this long without eating before, you all have, but you never seem to remember the consequences. The emptiness rumbled with the soreness in your back, both plotting on your downfall, gifting you with a headache, which gripped your vacant stomach with purpose and churned it into mush.

“No,” you groaned, trying to sit up. Nausea haunted you. “Yoongi,” you whispered, reaching for him. The full name. With a smack of his hand to the spacebar he stopped the song and helped you up, holding onto you as you wobbled on your feet. Empty stomach, sore back, nausea, headache- now you were dizzy. “I feel sick.” Your throat tightened the closer you got to the bathroom, Yoongi guiding you there with patience.

At the threshold of the downstairs bathroom you stopped. Taking a deep breath you caught a whiff of something delicious from the kitchen, pointing your focus toward it. Yoongi laughed to himself.

“You need to put something in you,” he said, tone strict, not matching the light smile on his lips. “You’re gonna feel sick if you don’t.” Looking at him, you pouted. He brought a hand to your cheek, dragging a finger down it before fixing your hair. “Please?” he whispered. “Do it for me?” With a sly smirk he added, “Do it for her?”

“Is she up?” Sunny’s voice carried into the hall. “I’m cookin’!”

You smiled, relief pouring over Yoongi. “Do it for her,” you pointed to your belly, then the kitchen, “Or her?”

Yoongi considered, then shrugged. “Both?” He scrunched up his face. “Both.”

Leaning into him carefully so you didn’t tip over, you don’t have to do much to pry a kiss out of him, his lips were magnetic. “I’ll do it for you.” You winked with your whisper.

Following you toward the kitchen where beautiful scents wafted from, going way below the speed limit, Yoongi eyed your figure and took a breath to calm himself. You were up, you were moving, you were smiling, you wanted to eat… And this baby was coming tomorrow. She had to be.

~ August 31st, 2021 ~

“What do you mean you feel fine, you need to be pushing out a baby!” Jungkook’s voice shouted through the speaker from your phone that laid on the kitchen counter. Laughing at his exasperated tone, you fold your arms over your bump and shrug as if he could see you. The almost twenty four year old was on his way home, he had just gotten off a flight with Jimin.

The mention of the boy's name had you and Yoongi side eyeing one another.

“Yesterday was hell, I really thought for sure that last night something was going to happen and you’d be in the air,” you rolled your eyes. You weren’t lying, yesterday was utter hell. After finally eating something you expected your ailments to vanish, but they somehow got worse, and you did eventually get sick. “I woke up today feeling fine, though, it’s weird.”

Yoongi, leaning against the counter on his elbows, bobbed his head. “So weird,” he whispered. Suspicious himself, thinking that it would’ve all gone down last night, when he saw you get out of bed at a decent time with a chipper attitude to start the day, he knew something wasn’t right. He’d spend the rest of the day observing you with that narrow look in his eye.

After breakfast you helped Sunny straighten up the guest room, and even did a load of laundry- of whatever happened to be left. Waltzing around the first floor with your hands planted on your hips and a cautious boyfriend behind you, you contemplated reorganizing something, anything. Yoongi assisted you with the kitchen cabinets, you guys didn’t need anymore broken plates, and he put up with your orders as you watched him redo the fridge.

On the second floor you paraded around the rooms curiously, Sunny forcing you out of hers and into your own. Helping Yoongi change the sheets on your bed, and then change the sheets in the baby’s crib, you dared ask Sunny if she needed hers done- to which she shot you a humorous glare.

“I think I liked you better on the couch,” she joked.

Following your waddle, Yoongi didn’t protest once. All of this walking around would only help the little one come out of you, and if it didn’t, it would at least tire you out so you’d get some sleep. He only put up a fight when you grabbed the doorknob to his office. With a quiet, “Nuh-uh,” he touched your arm to gently pull you into the baby's room.

Puttering around the nursery with you, sharing smiles, taking cute pictures of the room, you both looked genuinely happy. This could very well be the last day it was just the two of you in that nursery, Yoongi prayed.

When the two of you circled down the stairs for lunch, that’s when Jungkook’s name appeared on your phone.

“So, you don’t feel like it’ll happen today?” Jimin chimed in from the background.

“I don’t,” you sighed. Yoongi rubbed his eyes.

“Dammit,” Jimin muttered. “I’m gonna lose twenty bucks.”

Both you and your boyfriend cracked laughs.

“Who bet on my child!?” Yoongi exclaimed, snatching the phone. There’s a squabble happening on the other end of the line, making you laugh even harder, your bladder being squeezed by your baby.

“We all did,” Jimin giggled.

“Hey, I did not!” Jungkook whined. There’s another bustle of muffled noise. Pressing your lips together to hold in your giggles, you and Yoongi share another look. “Don’t put me in your lies, babe.”

Both you and Yoongi’s eyes shot open wide. You definitely weren’t supposed to hear that. Clasping a hand over your mouth, your bladder gets squeezed tighter. Jumping from where you sat at the island, you hurry for the bathroom, whispering urgencies to get there faster.

“Oh boy,” Yoongi laughed, following you soon after you left the room, still listening to his brother's bicker over the phone.

Turning the corner into the bathroom he finds you crouched in front of the toilet with your legs pressed together, laughing so hard that tears were coming out of your eyes.

“What is happening?” Jungkook asked, laughing as well, ignoring Jimin.

“I… I…” you were gasping for air between words. Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, losing it. “I didn’t make it!”

“Jungkook!” Yoongi shouted, his deep laugh making you laugh even harder. “You just made her pee her pants!”

“I’ve never done this before,” you sucked in a deep breath, grasping your chest. Yoongi followed suit, taking on as well before losing it all over again.

“You almost have,” he said between giggles. Furrowing your brows you question him, but Jungkook and Jimin confirmed what he’d said.

“Wings Tour!” They both shouted into the phone, sounding like the speaker was in their throats. The giggles coming out of Jimin triggered you to laugh all over again.

“Oh god, we were in Sydney!” You gripped the fabric of the t-shirt you had on. Yoongi grinned, laughed and nodded.

“And you were trashed,” he howled, the three boys completely inconsolable for another couple of minutes.

Indeed, years back on one of the boys' tours, it was the end of May, you were in Sydney, Australia and you were having the time of your life. You and Yoongi were both around twenty-four years old, just as Jungkook is now, and you were still insufferably love drunk.

Now, partying with the seven of them and Sunny, you weren’t the only one to have one too many, but you were the only part of the story the nine of you seem to remember and piece together. It’d been a while since this has been brought up, something different triggers it’s retelling each time, and this time it just so happened to be this.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you groaned with a grin, the boy's laughter keeping you from having a meltdown. “I was drunk, I had to pee, we were in the car- I get it!”

Yoongi gave you a smile of sympathy, then his eyes shot open wide. “That’s the night we tried to-”

“NO!” you shouted, holding a hand up, one that wasn’t shoved between your thighs. He was not about to let a secret the two of you shared slip to either of the boys.

Jungkook snickered. “Oh no, now you have to tell us!”

“What did you try!?” Jimin’s voice shrieked.

Putting on your best frown, you whined aloud and slapped your hand to your side. “Yoongi,” you said sternly, and he snapped out of the laughter. “Help me!” A giggle slipped out of you, making one slip out of him.

“We gotta go,” he said into the phone, and both boys protested. “Come on over later, or something, we’ll be here.” And he hung up without listening to whatever else they had to say. “Let’s go upstairs.” He held open his arms for you to wrap yourself around him, accident or not, he didn’t care. “Shower? With me?” he offered, giving the top of your head a kiss.

“To try what we tried in Sydney?” you giggled.

Yoongi considered, then shook his head, sliding a hand over your bump. “Not with this belly.”

The boys from the phone call showed their faces later that evening around six. Sunny and Jin who had a day out together were back at the house around the same time, filling your living room with laughter and storytelling. Taehyung, Namjoon and Hoseok were called throughout the night, the three of them busy with work and family, though your heart longed for them to come by.

The last day of your pregnancy was coming to an end and you wished to share it with all of them. It wasn’t just you and Yoongi involved here, the seven of them and your best friend were a huge piece of the puzzle. Your family.

But their lives were inevitable, all seven of them. Sunny could even be thrown in that mix now too with the jobs that she’s been working. She spoke of one now, cuddled up between Jimin and Jin with a glass of wine in her ring adorned hand. Waving it about as the boys were enthralled with her words, she gestured it to you and shook her head.

“That night when you told us you were having this baby, I swear, I knew,” she grinned. Jin tossed in an objection, but she swatted his hand away. “Every single time Kourtney was pregnant, or Kim, even Kylie,” a low groan rung out amongst the guys, having to hear about these women whenever they were in Sunny’s presence, “They would get this glow about them, and I’m not talking about the pregnancy glow, I’m talking about a beautiful, starlit glow, like they had some deep, hidden power awoken by the child within them.”

The boy's grumbles of displeasure turned to shock, as did your own. Not one of you had ever heard Sunny speak that way. Yoongi jokingly scurried his hands around for a notebook.

“Wait, wait, say it again, say it again,” he joked, acquiring laughs from the room. Your baby kicked at your belly, three times. Sliding a hand over the spot you reached for one of Jungkooks, who sat beside you, and placed it over top where your little one was making a beat.

His eyes lit up. “Wow,” he whispered, gazing at you. The hair on his head dark as night rested on his eyelashes as they fluttered a couple of times. “You know if she doesn’t come before midnight we’re gonna share a birthday.” He tried to hide his smile, a bit of the eighteen year old you once knew showing himself.

Nodding once, you grinned and whispered, “I wouldn’t want her to share it with anyone else.” Meeting his fingers, you touched the tips of yours together and quietly felt your little one bounce around. Flickering his attention between your belly and you, Jungkook’s smile widened with each kick.

“I’m so happy you did this,” he said.

Lowering your brow, you asked, “Got pregnant by accident?”

Jungkook huffed a laugh and pressed a few of his fingers against the baby. “You kept her.” His voice was small, tone soft enough to slip around you and hug you warmly. Your memories flashed back to that night in the dressing room at the Golden Disc Awards, where you let it slip to him that you were pregnant. If it weren’t for his reasoning that night you weren’t sure you’d be in this position right now.

Yoongi absolutely would’ve helped you through anything and everything, but hearing it come from a friend meant the world.

Jungkook has been there for you through it all, he’s become one of your closest friends in this tight knit group of family you were a part of. When Sunny wasn’t there, Jungkook was. And even if Sunny was around, so was Jungkook.

Those three words he uttered entirely too calmly made you pout, the tears welling up in your eyes as you watched him gape in awe at the way your baby moved.

“You wanna share a birthday with me?” he asked the little one quietly. Giggling after a sniffle, you feel eyes on you and look over to find Yoongi gazing your way with a smile on his face. “You do your mom a favor and come tomorrow, okay? It’ll be the best day ever, we can’t wait.” Yoongi could barely hear what he was saying over Sunny’s stories, but he overheard enough to catch the context.

Blowing air through his lips he shrugged his shoulders, telling you he didn’t know when this was going to happen. Yesterday rolled through like a category four hurricane, and now today, your due date, you felt… nothing. Very little soreness, very little nausea, very little pain anywhere.

If you had to be honest with yourself, this was the easiest day of your pregnancy so far. And you were glad, because if you were miserable when the ball of sunshine who can’t seem to take his hands off your belly came over, you would’ve hated yourself for it.

Having your baby tomorrow was ideal, and you’d love that, especially since it was Jungkook’s birthday… You just didn’t feel like it would happen. First baby’s came late, it was a logical statistic! With the way Jungkook was cooing at these kicks, you couldn’t find it in your heart to share the facts. So you let him believe that your little one would be out of you tomorrow.

~ September 1st, 2021 ~

Jimin and Jungkook left by midnight, and Sunny and Jin escaped to the guest room soon after you and Yoongi went to bed. The six of you stayed up as long as you possibly could just to see if your little one would make an appearance on the day they were expected to come.

They did not. To everyone's disappointment. Well, everyone except Jungkook. The clock struck twelve on his twenty-fourth birthday and he cheered aloud, knowing he had a twenty four hour shot for the baby you carried to come out.

After a birthday squeeze and kiss on the cheek, you followed him out your front door onto the steps and waved him and Jimin off. The two got into the same car, Jimin mumbling something to the youngest about going home the long way before they shut the doors to you and your boyfriends prying ears.

“They are so-”

“Shhh.” You held a finger to Yoongi’s lips. “Don’t speak of it. Not yet.”

Yoongi quirked a brow, then against your finger asked, “Can I speak of it upstairs in our bedroom?” Knowing Sunny and Jin were around cleaning up, you shot your boyfriend a look and winked.

Taking his hand with the one you shushed him with, you tugged him inside and said, “Hell yes, because I want to talk about it, too.”

Halfway to the stairs after Yoongi locked and secured the front door, he drug his thumb over the back of your hand sending a chill up your arm. Turning around to face him, he nearly bumps into you. Following you like your shadow since he’s been home, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

He smiled at you, but it quickly faded to something wicked when he noted how your eyes were devouring him. Darting your tongue between your lips briefly was enough to make him close the space between you and kiss you deeply, hands sliding up your back to hold you beneath your shoulder blades.

Savoring this moment, kissing him slowly, you didn’t want it to end. Your wandering hands drug up his torso exploring beneath his shirt, toying with the elastic band on the pants he wore. He only jumped a bit when you delved a hand into them, exploring beneath the band.

He parted from you with a breath mixed with a laugh, surprised by how quick you seemed to move along. “We want this to be over so we can meet her,” he began, voice half-broken, lifting his chin a bit so you can continue kissing down his neck. “But, I’m gonna miss these quick moments of you just taking me for whatever you need. Using me.”

Leaning back with a smack of your lips, you look up at him with wide eyes. “D, do you have any idea of what you just said to me?” He answered with a slight shake of his head, oblivious as fuck. “Oh, my love,” you smirked, placing a hand to his cheek. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

His eyes gleamed in the light of the dim foyer. “After I put you to sleep?”

You squished his cheek between your fingers and pressed your lips together. “Honey, after what you just told me I might be putting you to sleep.”

And you nearly did, as best as you could given the circumstances. Despite your bump being in the way of all that you could do, Yoongi was still blown away, sweaty and whiney… and fucked out.

After a quick shower together, again, you were both in bed around two, pressed against one another in the middle of the mattress praying that sleep would take you under as soon as possible. With very little time remaining before you popped, you’d both need as much as you could get.

For an hour you tossed and turned, along with Yoongi who attempted to keep himself laying toward you. He took your hand when you reached for him and drug his fingers over your palm to try to soothe you to sleep. When your back was facing him he danced his fingers on your skin under your shirt to relax you further… but nothing worked.

“Are you awake?” you whispered in the darkness, flipping over to your boyfriend who had gone static about ten minutes ago. You met his half open eyes, and a lazy smile. “Oh,” you breathed. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he said, keeping the whispers going. “I can’t fall asleep. Think I will if you do, though.” Grumbling, you close your eyes and take a breath.

“I can’t,” you exhaled heavily. “I just can’t.”

“We’ve done this before,” he mumbled, taking your hand. “You’ll get there. Even if you have to sleep into the day tomorrow, just keep your eyes closed and relax. I’m right here.”

Listening, you started to take slow, counted deep breaths to help quiet your mind. It lasted for all of forty six seconds.

“Think I have to pee,” you whispered, and Yoongi laughed.

“Want me to help you up?” he asked, keeping a close eye on you as you rolled over to your other side to try to get out of bed. Kicking your legs over the edge, he kept talking as if he were the only one in the room. “No? Oh, okay. You’re good, what am I thinking?”

Throwing a smirk over your shoulder you waddled into the bathroom and didn’t even bother turning on the light. The stark white room reflected everything just with the moonlight from the window.

In bed, Yoongi sat up against the pillows and let his gaze dance around the bedroom while he waited for you to come back. Fiddling with his nails, he couldn’t shake the subtle feeling of unease settling in his gut. The more he thought about it, the more it didn’t feel like unease, it felt like anxiety. But, he figured the two went hand in hand.

Since the two of you had been trying to fall asleep, something was off. His heart wasn’t beating steadily, the tightness within his chest would not subside. There was some signal going off in his brain, some instinct telling him that something was wrong, or something was… going to happen. He didn’t want to say anything to spook you, so he kept his worries to himself.

You were fine, you felt fine, you were healthy, the baby was healthy, everything was going to plan-

“ACHOO!” You were sneezing, that had to mean that you were fine.

“Bless!” Yoongi called out to you with a little giggle. A quiet groan, or moan, or some sort of sound came from you from the bathroom. Tossing the covers off of himself, Yoongi figured you needed help standing up again, so he slipped out of bed.

“Yoongi?!” your voice was high pitched, and scared, and concerned. All of the things that sent your boyfriend's heart rate skyrocketing. His feet couldn’t get him into the bathroom fast enough, nor could he flip on the light any quicker.

“I’m here, I’m-”

You were both frozen. Eyes boring into one another's, you were frozen. Paralyzed in place because this wasn’t supposed to happen at, like, three o’clock in the morning.

Your water broke, that much was evident.

“What do-”

“How-”

You both spoke at the same time. Voices hushed like this was a secret.

“I sneezed,” you said. Then you laughed, and repeated yourself. “I fucking sneezed.”

Yoongi tried to laugh with you, but he couldn’t force it out. Instead, he latches onto your arm and guides you out of the bathroom carefully.

Your water broke. It was go time. He was about to be a father.

He studied for this moment, he was ready to go. If your water broke you were to head to the hospital, whether or not you were having contractions yet. It was the doctor's order, and he was too scared to stay home knowing that now it could literally happen at any second.

Helping you change into clean, comfortable clothes, he gave you a long, messy kiss before getting changed himself. Amongst these few minutes very little was uttered, there wasn’t too much to say aside from the mumbling of your friend’s names who were in the bedroom down the hall.

“I’ll wake them, let’s just get you downstairs,” Yoongi nodded, noting your brows that were twisted with a hint of worry. This moment was coming whether you wanted it to or not. You’ve thought a lot about what would happen after your water broke, if that was in the cards for you- you’ve read one too many horror stories.

At the rate you were going, if you didn’t sneeze, you figured you’d be one of them. Forcing an induction was not how you wanted this all to go down. Letting things naturally take their course was the game plan. So far, so good. The little one was on board. You just wished they had waited until you had at least an hour of sleep.

Standing at the top of the stairs in knitted pants and a sweater that belonged to your boyfriend, you grip the railing and take a deep breath hoping to ease the tightness that was settling into the muscles between your hips. It felt slightly different than what you’d experienced before, like your baby was trying to stretch their way out.

“D,” you muttered, barely looking over your shoulder. Yoongi was at the door peeking through the crack he propped it open to. From within it you could see the flashing of the television, but the lights flicked on after a round of hushed profanities.

“I’m right here, I’m coming,” he said to you, giving you his full attention. He was the face of patience. Of grace. Typically able to hide his true emotion from his expression, there was something swirling around him, and you couldn’t tell if it was nerves or excitement. You prayed it was the latter.

“She feels funny,” you said, sliding a hand over your bump. Yoongi smirked.

“Her peace was disturbed, of course she feels funny.”

Your lips pulled into a frown. Tears stung your eyes. “She’s gonna get hurt, what if she doesn’t know what to do?”

He was at your side in a second, grasping your hands, turning you around so that he could kiss you on the forehead. Looking you in the eyes he whispered, “She knows what to do.”

“Promise?” A tear slipped down your cheek.

Yoongi smiled, brushing it away. “Promise. And, later on, when she’s old enough, you can tell her all about this and how she got here.” Your tiny smile relieved some of the tension in his chest. “I think I read somewhere that baby’s do remember this, but they suppress it… Like, subconsciously or something, I dunno, it was pretty cool. We can tell her together. Help her understand it.”

“I’d like that,” you said.

Yoongi smiled. “Me too.”

“Let me in,” Sunny said from behind him, tugging a hoodie over her head. The sight of her, sleepy eyed with no makeup on, aided the flowing of your tears. Pulling you into a gentle hug, nudging Yoongi aside, she kissed the top of your head and took a deep breath with you. “You’re going to be amazing.”

“You’re not coming!?” you said into her shoulder. One of her hands circled your back.

“Love, I’m coming, I promise,” she said quietly. Pulling away from you she gestured over her shoulder. “We both are.”

“They all are,” Yoongi assured you, placing a hand to your back. Your heart sunk down to your knees as you grasped your cheeks and almost gasped. Three out of six of them were god knows where, doing god knows what. Weeks ago all six of the boys promised that they would be in attendance, and here it was, three in the morning on Jungkook's birthday, days after they all just got done working.

“Somebody call Taehyung,” you choked out, your eyes wide. “Joon, Hobi, oh my god. What if Tae’s in Paris, what if Namjoon went-”

“Baby,” Yoongi cut in front of Sunny to grasp you carefully beneath the chin, making you look at him, again showing no sign of panic in his feline eyes. “They’re all right here, I promise you.” Your eyes darted to Sunny who simply nodded. You seemed to be the only one in a tizzy, but you figured it was appropriate. You were the one who had to do all the work when you got to the hospital.

“We got the plan,” Sunny said. “Remember the plan.”

“The plan,” you parroted, looking at Yoongi who still held the underside of your jaw within his soft fingers.

“We’re at the part where we get in the car and go,” he said. “Sunny and Jin will take care of things here, they’ll let everyone know what’s going on, and they’ll be right behind us, I promise you.”

Furrowing your brows, you sniffled and said, “You’re making a lot of promises.” Yoongi huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“I intend to keep them all,” he whispered, kissing your lips before he dropped his hand and ushered you around to start walking down the stairs. Glancing behind him to Sunny and Jin, who propped himself in the doorway of the bedroom he was sharing with your best friend, he gulped, letting a sliver of his nerves pop onto his face. Sunny lifted her hand to her heart and tapped it twice. Jin winked at him, then gave him a single nod.

It was baby time.

Without Yoongi, this entire morning would’ve been disastrous. Where you were skittish and nervous, he was poised and the voice of reason. The entire drive to the hospital he clung to your hand, reassuring you with a stroke of his thumb or some sort of positive affirmation you weren’t even sure he knew. Half of them you weren’t even sure what they meant, but they came from him, so it meant the world.

The check-in process was smooth, admittance was easy. Aside from you and Yoongi, the place was calm and quiet. People chattered from some open doors down the hallway you were wheeled down after a sweet nurse with short unnatural red hair insisted you get into a wheelchair. For three thirty in the morning, it was pretty silent.

Holding onto your bump, you look up at Yoongi who walked beside you and found him already looking back. Watching you. With a quick widening of his eyes and a smile, he shares his excitement with you.

The room you were brought into was nothing short of a hospital room. It was white, bright and entirely sterile. A single bed waited for you in the middle amongst different machines and electronics you were clueless about. The nurse wheeled you in near one with a screen you were familiar with. It was the same device they used at your monthly ultrasounds.

The nurse left you with a gown to change into and a smile. Yoongi thanked her, shut the door behind her and turned to you, laughing quietly as he caught a glimpse of you waiting nervously in the chair.

Nibbling your bottom lip, your hands were clasped together and you were literally twiddling your thumbs. Eyes wider than ever, you were taking short, shallow breaths, begging your boyfriend with the fear in your pupils to do something.

“Come on,” he said, tone quiet, gentle. He came over to your side and reached for one of your hands, taking it firmly within his. “Let’s change, the doctor will be here soon.” Hesitating, you swallow hard, and barely shake your head.

“I wanna go home,” you forced out of your lips. You weren’t sure he heard you. The twist of his stomach and tug on his heart was very real. He heard you. Kneeling down beside the wheelchair he put on his best face and sighed.

“Me too,” he agreed with you, to your surprise. The raise of your brows made him chuckle. “I’m tired, I’m a little hungry, I’m-”

“You’re not scared,” you said. Yoongi tilted his head in question. “How are you not… terrified? I feel ridiculous that I can’t see straight and you’re… fine.” He listened, he didn’t dare interrupt. “At some point today, hopefully, we are going to be three of us. It’s not just you and me anymore, D, we’re going to have a baby. A real live baby that we’re going to have to take care of, and feed, and raise, and… You’re perfectly fine about it, and I’m shaking, literally. What if I’m not ready like I thought I was, what if I can’t handle this?”

He didn’t speak for a moment, you contemplated if you had shattered his heart or not. It was only when his bottom lip crinkled that you felt a moment of guilty relief.

“I am scared out of my mind, baby,” he whispered. “What you’re about to do? What she’s going to have to go through? I’ve been speaking to whichever god is listening for months now.” One of his hands ran up and down your arm, soothing the both of you. “I used to swear I didn’t have any luck when it came to this shit… When it came to… life. You and I both know what it’s like to be dealt a bad hand.” You shared a small smile with him.

“We get through it together, you know that,” he continued. “You’re not doing this alone, I will be right here… forever. Am I nervous about what comes when we get home? When we take her home and we’re the only ones there? Holy shit, yes. You said it, she’s ours. We’re gonna be responsible for an entire life when not even a year ago we were spending nights getting plastered with everybody at Jungkooks.” He took a breath, the two of you in comfortable silence for a couple of seconds.

“I’m scared shitless that I’m gonna lose you,” he admitted, averting his gaze to the floor. “Scared shitless something will happen to her, too.” You took your hand to his chin, holding him the way he was holding you at home, bringing his eyes back to yours.

“We’re here,” you whispered. “These people are good, we’ll be okay.”

“I didn’t want to tell you how I was feeling, I didn’t want to add more stress to any of this,” he said.

“D, you know you have to-”

“I know,” he scrunched his face up and rolled his eyes. “Talk about it. And now that you’ve heard it?” You drug a finger down his porcelain cheek and tried to smile.

“I feel a lot better, honestly,” you said. Yoongi breathed a laugh. “You and me.”

“Me and you,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

He took your hand away from his cheek and held it tight. “I can’t wait to see you be a mom.” Swallowing a smile, he took a long deep breath. “As scared as I am, I really can’t believe that this is happening. We’re about to have a baby.” Parting your lips, you couldn’t muster up anything to say, so Yoongi continued, “You’re going to be amazing. You can do this. I’ve never seen you back down from a challenge, ever. I pray our daughter gets your strength.”

“I pray she gets your eyes,” you said, and it makes the both of you laugh aloud. “Your smile, your laugh, oh god, I pray she gets it all.” He blushed right before your eyes, a sight so rare it gets you to giggle.

“Well, even if she comes out an exact clone of either one of us,” he began, “she’s still ours. And that’s pretty fucking cool.”

The smiles dialed down to softness, the room falling so quiet the only sound to be heard was the beeping of machines in other rooms. Gazing at his face, his beautiful imperfect skin and tousled black hair that was days away from being forced into some other color, you're reminded of everything the two of you have been through to get you to this moment.

Since the start of you and Yoongi, you’ve been handed battle after battle, whether it involved your relationship or not. When either of you went through something, you handled it together, hand in hand. Even when you’d butt heads, which wasn’t often, you still found a way to make it through.

“Do you remember when we were filming Fake Love?” You broke the silence with the ghost of a grin. Yoongi closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned.

“No, come on, it’s okay,” you said, wiggling his hand. Opening his eyes he gave you a cautious look. “We were almost at three years.”

“Yeah,” he huffed, then whispered, “And I was at my worst.”

Flickering your eyes all over his face, you studied him intently. “No,” you shook your head. “You weren’t.” He swallowed, flipping his brows over, quizzing you. “You were at your worst way before that, D. Fake Love was when you started to come out of it. Writing your second mixtape, touring, filming… It was a crazy time because you guys were blowing up everywhere. I was worried.”

“Why?” His voice was hushed.

“Because I thought if it got to be too much I would… I would really lose you,” you said. Yoongi didn’t move. “After what you went through, I wondered with the way you guys were taking over the world that you would get caught up in it and do something bad… something crazy. We went through it once, I thought it could happen again at any given moment, and what better than at the height of it all… God,” you sighed, feeling the tears brim your eyes, but Yoongi already beat you there. “We were filming Fake Love, and watching you move, watching you work… I thought, we beat it. The bad thing. It was the start of you… feeling better.”

He only gave you a small nod.

“The things I was thinking that day on set,” you laughed to yourself. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“That day changed everything,” you smiled. “Remember I was a, ‘I dunno if I want kids, or if I wanna get married, or if I wanna be stuck in one place forever,’ type of person?” Yoongi’s eyes widened as he nodded, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“You were a flight risk,” he teased.

“Oh, hush,” you shook his arm, your grin growing. “That’s the day it all changed.” His smile melted, his lips turning pouty. “I wasn’t afraid of anything, except one thing. No longer having you in my life. I was in love with you way before then, but that was the day I knew I had to keep you forever, I realized I was in this for… life. I knew I wanted to live with you, I knew I wanted to make a life with you. I wanted us to grow up together. Grow old. Want to see you… grow old.”

Yoongi curled his lip. “You don’t want that.”

“Yes the hell I do,” you gasped, giggling. Reaching a hand over you squeezed one of his cheeks and messed with his hair. “Wanna see wrinkles and grey hair, Mr. Min. And I better get to see them.”

Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, you better.” His gaze hardened.

Turning your lips up, you whispered, “I promise.”

“Me too,” he whispered in return, shifting to give you a proper kiss. As he pulled away a knock sounded at the door. Jumping a bit, you looked down at yourself and groaned.

“Oh, I’m not ready.” “It’s us,” Sunny’s voice said from the hallway. Yoongi grabbed your knee and squeezed it with a smile. Rising to his feet he pulled open the heavy metal door and invited your friends inside. Both Sunny and Jin wore smiles on their faces, just short of cheesy.

Hugs were exchanged amongst the three before Jin said, “House is good, everythings locked up, everyones been called.” He shot you a funny look to get you to, thankfully, laugh. Thinking about the five other boys getting that phone call, you couldn’t imagine being on the receiving end. It was way too early to have this happen, though you wonder if Jungkook had actually fallen asleep yet. Either way, you figured you could apologize to them all when they arrived.

Standing up out of the chair, Yoongi rushed over to help you transfer to the bed. The tightness in your abdomen was getting worse, and you were starting to believe you’d have preferred it to be the doctor that walked into the room.

“Who has my phone?” you asked anybody. Yoongi reached into his back pocket and handed it over. Your messages were blowing up. Five of your favorite people who were on their way were sending you ample messages, but one was insistent, not stopping until you opened them up.

[kookie:] Did i call it or did i call it!?

[kookie:] I knew it i fucking knew it

[kookie:] Get that baby out today

[kookie:] Please

[kookie:] Pretty please

[kookie:] Best birthday present ever

[kookie:] I love you and will see you soon me and Jimin are on our way

Me and Jimin. Jungkook and Jimin. You smiled at the message and gave it a heart. Baby stuff aside, you were ecstatic those two had finally given in.

The waiting game was excruciatingly painful. For everybody. It had been about five hours since your water had broken and nothing was happening. You were contracting, that much was happening, which was the painful part for you. Yoongi’s was having to watch it all happen and not be able to do anything about it.

You weren’t allowed to eat anything, but you could chew on ice chips, which Yoongi had gone to refill at least more than seven times. You couldn’t sleep because of the contractions, but you were able to shut your eyes and get some type of rest even if it meant teasing your body with REM, your subconscious wanting to drift off into a deep slumber.

Your room was revolving with visitors, especially after each one arrived. After Sunny and Jin, it was Jungkook and Jimin, just like the youngest had said. Then an hour after, Namjoon popped in with a gift for the baby, the sweetest set of tiny purple pajamas, and then when the room was quiet, Hoseok snuck his way inside, ready to give out the tightest of hugs.

The sunshine was in the midst of trying to put together a solo album. Knowing he came here to lose sleep and wait out the birth of your baby with your family brought on the tears. You couldn’t let go of him, he sat on the edge of your bed for almost forty five minutes until Yoongi had to pry him away from you.

There was something about Namjoon and Hoseok that made you hold them a little bit closer to your heart. Age probably had something to do with it, they were right behind you and Yoongi, but they were the two you didn’t get to see much of. They were popular, they had outside friends, they had other hobbies that led them astray from the group for periods of time.

Whenever they came around you had to hold them close, you weren't sure when you’d get to do it again.

Taehyung showed his face shortly after Hobi, peeking his head in the door when you were toying with Hobi’s fingers, listening to him tell you stories about writing and recording. The dark, curly hair didn’t catch your eye until after Yoongi helped Hoseok escape.

The second youngest tiptoed in in a get up you couldn’t believe for this hour of the morning, but Taehyung was always ready for a camera. The boy could wear trash bags and he’d look old Hollywood glamorous. He arrived at your side with a charming smile and tight hug, taking the spot Hobi was just in.

“You’re glowing,” he said, his deep voice quiet. Rolling your eyes, you laugh.

“I’m sweating,” you joked. Smiling, Taehyung hovered a hand over your bump, giving you a look as if to ask if he could put his hand on you. With a small nod you smirk and he rests his hand on you carefully.

“Where’s Jungkook? I figured he’d be stuck to your side,” he said, eyes on your little one, moving his hand around respectfully, feeling where the baby was resting.

Breathing through a laugh, you said, “He and Jimin went for a walk. He was stuck to my side, Jimin had to get him out of here so he could get something to eat.” Taehyung shook his head with a grin.

“Was Jungkook at Jimin’s last night?” Yoongi asked Taehyung, joining the two of you once Hoseok was free of the room. Shooting your boyfriend a soft glare, he shrugged his shoulders innocently in response. Neither of you knew what Taehyung did or didn’t know, hell, neither of you were sure if anyone else had picked up what the two of you have.

Jungkook and Jimin were a thing. They had been for a while. And nobody has said one word about it.

“I think so,” Taehyung answered, keeping his gaze down for a moment before he takes a look at Yoongi. “How’re you doing?” A quick change of subject. Either he knew and didn’t want to discuss it, or he didn’t want to give anything away. His expression didn’t falter either. You weren’t getting an ounce of information out of him.

Yoongi sighed, attempted a smile and reached for your hand. “Fine. Good, doing good.” The nod of his head was sporadic and nervous. It made Taehyung laugh.

“I’m convinced,” he said. He parted his lips to say more, but he was cut off by the door opening and Jungkook himself waltzing inside, alone. “Jungkookie,” Taehyung sung, standing up to give his friend a quick hug. The youngest, chewing on something, threw his arms around Taehyung and shook him side to side with a puffy cheeked smile. “Where’s Jimin?”

“Outside with everyone,” Jungkook said, pulling away from his brother to check out his get up. “You’re lying to me right now, Tae.” The youngest tugged on Taehyung’s button down and smirked. “We’re having a baby, not meeting the Queen.”

“We’re having a baby?!” Yoongi nearly shrieked, the lot of you laughing so loud it prompted Namjoon to stick his head inside the door.

“We okay?” he asked, smiling as soon as he saw everyone else doing so.

Yoongi, throwing his head backward, howled, “What’s with this we stuff!?”

Namjoon crossed the threshold, and right behind him followed Jin, then Sunny, then Hoseok, then Jimin, to which Jungkook waited patiently. His eyes were studying the doorway, his smile fading to something small as he watched for Jimin.

“What’s going on?” Sunny asked, giving you a good look.

“We’re all having a baby, you didn’t know that?” Yoongi twisted his brows and gestured to everyone in the room. Laughter rang out once more, wrapping you in blissful sweetness.

Sunny perched herself on the end of the bed, resting a hand on one of your legs, and Jungkook took his place beside you, handing you the water you were supposed to be sipping on. Yoongi, clutching your hand, caught Namjoons ear, the leader sitting in a chair behind him to ask him all about the morning. Taehyung and Jimin were hanging over Sunny, listening to her talk about experiences you both shared throughout the pregnancy, and how the last two weeks leading up to this moment had gone down.

Jin, lingering around everybody, wandered back and forth, watching everyone speak to one another quietly. With Yoongi’s hand in one of yours and Jungkook watching over the other, all you could do was study him, watch him take everything in with the ghost of a smile on his lips. His gaze fixed on Sunny for a moment, eyes drifting to the bump she was gesturing toward, then back to her bare beautiful face.

You’ve never spoken to Jin about Sunny in depth before, you figured that was their business, but the way he looked at her reminded you of the way Yoongi looked at you the day you agreed to move in with him, to live with him and build a home together. It was years ago now, but you had never seen his eyes full of such deep, unconditional love. Nor had you ever seen Jin this way.

He caught you looking at him, and when your eyes met all you could do was give him a knowing smile. If you could read his mind right in this moment, you prayed that your flighty best friend, afraid of tying herself down, wouldn't screw this up.

Around four o’clock in the afternoon a nurse came into your room while you and Yoongi were snoozing all alone, hand in hand. The last time one of the lovely ladies had come in to check on you, you were only four centimeters dilated, which was not what you had wanted to hear. It was time for your little one to come out, and they didn’t want to.

The nurse didn’t even bother to turn on the light, the sunlight from the windows was plenty for her. Yoongi lifted his head as she came in, giving her a sleepy greeting. Barely opening your eyes, you shifted on the bed to lay primarily on your back and took in the sight of the brand new nurse you hadn’t seen yet today.

Creaking your eyes all the way open, you picked your head up and furrowed your brows. “Who’re you?”

Puttering around the room checking everything out, doing her job like she was supposed to, she smiled and turned to face you. “Anya. Our shifts just changed, I’m taking over for Charlotte, who you had all day today. If you’re still here tomorrow morning, which I hope you aren’t,” Anya and Yoongi shared a laugh, “She’ll be back. I promise.”

Her words didn’t appease you like they did your boyfriend. “She was literally here since I got here, how are you supposed to pick up on everything she was doing with me all day?” You didn’t mean for your words to sound nasty, but you couldn’t help it. How was somebody brand new going to understand what you’ve been through since you had arrived?

Anya nodded, finished what she was doing at one of the monitors, then stepped closer to your side in her sage green scrubs. “I get what you’re saying,” she said, sneaking Yoongi a sideways sympathetic glance. “It’s totally normal to feel that way, especially since Charlotte was literally here all day with you. You got checked in about twelve hours ago, that’s a long time to be with one nurse.”

Taking a deep breath, your glare refuses to soften, even as you feel a contraction pooling within you.

“We aren’t always able to say goodbye when we switch shifts, but I can tell you that Charlotte and I discussed everything. She adored you, and she asked for me specifically to take over your care. I know safety is very important to both of you,” Yoongi dropped his eyes and bobbed his head, “I can tell you right now, I’m coming in here fresh off a good night’s rest, a cup of coffee to keep me perky, and a drive to make sure you get the best care I can possibly give you.”

Your abdomen roared, but you still managed to say, “Day’s rest.” Anya cocked her head in question, folding her hands in front of her. “You said night’s rest. Your a night nurse, you get a good day’s-”

You weren’t even able to finish the joke you were trying to make. In the end it wouldn’t have been funny anyway. The contraction ripped through you like a crashing ocean wave. Unable to think about anything other than squeezing Yoongi’s hand, the brand new nurse by your side talked you through it. By the end of it, after that wave of tight soreness had receded, Anya noted what had happened, then praised you for making it through.

“You’re tough, Mama,” she said. She worked a bit more on things in the room, letting you and Yoongi have a moment together before she turned around to take the pitcher off your bedside table. “I’ll be back with some more ice, if you contract while I’m gone you breathe through it like you just did, you’re doing great.”

Yoongi jumped to his feet. “I can take that, you don’t have to-”

“You sit back down,” Anya said. “There isn’t a reason you need to leave her side today. Let me take care of you.” She left the room with a smile, closing the door quietly.

Back in his seat Yoongi met your gaze and shrugged. “I like her.”

Swallowing hard, you took a breath and said, “Me too.”

Three hours and four centimeters later, you were utterly exhausted. Yoongi had been getting ten minutes of shut eye here and there, and so have you, but your energy was depleted the second you opened your eyes.

Anya continued to be fantastic. The nurse you had all morning and afternoon was good at what she had done, but Anya was going the extra mile. She reminded you of Sunny the way she handled taking care of you. It was motherly, gentle, yet a bit stern, but all the more lovely. The two had a conversation at one point, and sure enough, they got along perfectly.

You learned that the nurse had two kids of her own, a four year old daughter and a one year old son. Her husband was an author who did a lot of work from home, allowing her to come do her job and work long shifts without worry of leaving her children with someone other than one of their parents.

It was important to her and her family that they created bonds with one another, and strengthened their connections, and learned about one another, and helped each other grow… The more you heard about her, the more you loved her. The more she inspired you, inspired Yoongi. You could only dream of your family being a sliver like hers, only your roles reversed.

Yoongi, working longer hours, being away for periods of time while you did most of your work from home where you could watch over your little one instead of leaving her with someone else. Not that it was a bad thing to leave your child with another caregiver, you just preferred it be one of their parents. Considering who Yoongi was, and what world your family was a part of… It was just better to keep your little one with their parents.

Of course there were seven other people you’d trust your child with, one of them was laying beside you right now. Holding one of your hands, massaging the palm, Jungkook was taking deep breaths in sync with you as you laid on his shoulder, complete dead weight hanging on him.

Yoongi had his eyes shut, laying backward in the chair, arms folded over his chest to get a little bit of rest knowing you were in good hands.

“We can get drinks, and greasy burgers,” he was listing things for the two of you to do after you pushed the little one out. It was to ease your nerves, and at the same time give you something to look forward to postpartum. Right now he was telling you what you could do in the states… If you were allowed to go with them.

Eyes fluttering shut, you groaned. “I’m starving, Kookie.”

Jungkook pouted, digging a tattooed knuckle in the meat of your palm. “I know,” he whispered. “As soon as this baby comes out I’ll get you anything you want.”

“Yoongi, too,” you sighed, keeping your voice low. “He hasn’t had anything all day.”

“You’re joking,” Jungkook breathed.

“I’m not,” you said. “He’s either too nervous, or he won’t eat because I can’t.”

Jungkook shook his head. “He’s too good of a man.”

With a giggle you glance at your boyfriend snoozing in the chair. “You’re telling me.”

Jungkook placed both his thumbs at the base of your wrist, massaging the skin there. “He loves you. A lot.” Your head found his shoulder once more.

“I love him too. A lot.”

“I know,” Jungkook smiled. Turning your head so that you could look up at the boy, he meets your eyes quickly, spies the question within them, then directs his attention back to his work on your palm. “You’re funny.”

“Am I?” you asked within a whisper. “You can tell me, Kookie.”

Jungkook gulped. His eyes pointed down, he slows his ministrations, then puts your conjoined hands on the bed between your bodies. His round cheeks and deep brown eyes flashed a thousand different emotions, the gears spinning in his head as he fought for something to say, if he were to say anything.

“It’s… complicated,” he breathed. You remained still, his words paralyzed you. You were afraid if you moved you would scare him off. “He’s…” Jungkook turned to look at you again, a yearning in his eyes. “I’ve loved him since I was seventeen.” Your heart twisted with his words, a warmth accompanied by a pain exploded within your chest.

These were the words you’ve been dying to hear.

“He’s impossible to catch,” he said. Your memories resurface of years past, times when you caught the two in their own world. Each time it was Jungkook pining, and Jimin being Jimin. The oldest of the pair was impossible to catch, that much was true. He was flighty, he couldn’t be held back, he was himself. He was like Sunny, he had to be doing what he wanted to do. There wasn’t a soul that could tell Jimin what to do.

And here was Jungkook. A being that craved that energy, and had some within him that grew stronger whenever the two were together, but Jungkook needed stability, he needed reassurance. He needed somebody who was all for him, and only him. Someone he could count on, someone he could… have a life with.

Jimin was loyal, caring, and a fantastic friend… but thinking it over now, he was the complete opposite of the boy beside you. Even their star signs were Yin and Yang.

“What are you guys now?” you asked in a whisper. Jungkook stilled himself.

“Complicated.” Was all he said.

“Does he know?” you asked, and he knew what you meant. One look from him was confirmation enough. “Does he…” You were afraid to finish.

Jungkook took a long, unsatisfying deep breath. “Yeah. He does.”

A contraction was brewing. You could feel it. And at this point they were unbearable. Tossing his hand onto his lap, you started to take your recommended breaths and threw a hand repeatedly toward Yoongi, beckoning Jungkook to wake him up.

“Okay, okay,” he said quickly, jumping to his feet. “Keep breathing.” The youngest hurried to Yoongi’s side and woke him gently, catching him up to what was going on, and in seconds your boyfriend was at your side, clinging onto one of your hands, talking you through the pain.

Jungkook stood behind him, a decent distance away, biting the nail of his thumb, watching the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world out of respect, and a little out of fear. He was excited this whole baby thing was happening, but this part scared him. And rightfully so, because once this contraction began to pass, Anya entered the room with a familiar doctor to check up on you, and they told you it was time.

Ten centimeters. Doctor confirmation.

It was time.

Anya’s stunning smile was meant to calm the anxiety that just erupted in your entire being, but it did little. Even Yoongi’s eyes shot open wide, your boyfriend unable to hide what he was feeling.

Jungkook. The only other thought that popped into your brain, he was still in the room. Jungkook’s jaw dropped, and not a single word escaped him. It was around seven o’clock in the evening. If you managed to get this baby out of you soon, they would share a birthday.

The world was a blur, each and every moment that you strived to remember was passing by entirely too fast leaving you with very little recognition of what was even going on. You were transferred into another room, Anya, the doctor and Yoongi going with you. Sunny and Jin were the two to join you in the room, Sunny by your side and Yoongi on the other with Jin behind him for support.

You couldn’t process any of it. The pain, the doctors and nurses speaking, Yoongi and your friends sharing words, speaking praises to you that you couldn't comprehend. Your mind and your body were exhausted. At this point in the day, having laid here for hours without the ability to drift off into a peaceful sleep, you were wrecked. You and Yoongi had arrived at this hospital early this morning without a night of sleep either, both of you were relying heavily on a couple minutes of shut eye, not having slept since the night before this one.

This should’ve been the end. This should’ve been the moment your baby arrived, but she was stubborn.

For two hours you laid in this room, pushing and pushing and pushing. Yoongi remained by your side, but Sunny and Jin were popping in and out, staying for longer than they were gone for. The last time Sunny stepped out of the room was to grab something to pull your hair back with.

Tears graced your cheeks for a couple minutes, your boyfriend sweeping them away as they fell, popping kisses to the top of your head and you squeezed the life out of his fingers. Two hours. He watched you groan and writhe in pain for two hours. Somehow, someway, he was still the poster boy of patience. The moment he stepped into this room he was a composed being, for your sake, though he watched the doctors and nurses like a hawk.

The only time he spoke to Jin was when he muttered to him to call his parents, quietly, hoping you wouldn’t hear him, but you did. You fought away any thoughts of your own and focused on pushing this baby out of you.

Yoongi holding one of your legs, Sunny keeping your hair out of your face and off of your neck, patting your forehead with cool, wet, paper towels, and Jin running the errands in and out of the room, it was excruciating. Two hours.

If it was possible to believe, between each contraction and breaks of pushing, you were falling asleep. Anya was coaching you to stay awake, as was your family by your side. It felt impossible. The pain, the stress, the way you felt as if you couldn’t breathe… It was impossible.

Grabbing hold of Yoongi’s shirt, balling it up in your fist between a contraction, you heaved a sob and pulled your boyfriend close to you. He leaned over you, kissing your sweaty forehead and placed his there for a second. “I can’t do it,” you mumbled, lip quivering. Yoongi gazed down at you, feeling his own fear bubble up before he placed a hand on top of your hair. “I can’t, D, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” he soothed, kissing your forehead again. “Don’t apologize, baby. You can do this. You are doing it. They said she’s almost here, you just have a little bit more, and then we can meet our daughter.”

Sucking in a quick, shaky breath, feeling the next contraction on the way with little time to rest, you shut your eyes tight and cried. “No-no-I-can’t-do-it-I-can’t-I-can’t-”

Sunny took you by the shoulder, her own forehead sweaty, her eyes glimmering with tears. Anya was right behind her watching over you. “You look at me right now,” she said, her tone strict, packing a punch. Following directions you meet her beautiful face. “You need to breathe. If you don't, you're gonna make yourself sick.”

Beeping sounded from somewhere in the back, a noise that triggered Anya to hurry away from you. Sunny’s warm eyes held yours. “You are the last person I know who would admit she couldn’t do something. I know you. You can take this like it’s nothing. Do not let that inner voice take this away from you, take your child away from you. Do you hear me?”

Another sob came from your chest. Just as Sunny was about to say more, your boyfriend was raising his voice at the doctors and nurses speaking quietly to him and one another. Whipping your head in his direction, the contraction almost at full blast, you find him angry, tight lipped, and terrified beyond belief. Jin had placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

“You’ll have to scrub up,” Anya said to him before turning to you, coming close enough to hold your hand. “You’re rocking it, sweetie. There’s little to worry about right now, okay? We’ve got this all under control, I just need you to listen to me.” A small nod from you was enough. “Baby’s heart rate keeps dropping. A little too much for our liking. And seeing as though she does not want to come out this way, we’re going to need to do an emergency cesarean. A c-section.”

Nausea. Dizziness. Your chest tightened. “What?” you gasped. Anya nodded. Yoongi’s voice was carrying over everyone else's, but you couldn’t make out anything he was saying. You could hear Jin speaking as well.

“Look at me,” Anya said softly, getting your attention back that had started to drift, either into sleep or toward where your boyfriend was. “For you and the baby. I promised to keep you both safe.” Your throat tightened as tears spilled onto your cheeks. “Do this for her.”

Your breath picked up, the kind that fed into the dizziness. Panic flooded your senses. All you could do was barely nod, and mumble a convincing, “Yes.” The look on Yoongi’s face was one you never wanted to see ever again. You had to do this for him. You had to do this for your baby. She had to come out safely, you had to make it through this safely.

Taking Yoongi’s hand before you were rushed from the room, he pressed a kiss to your lips and let his tears fall. You mustered up enough energy to tell him three words that Anya had given confirmation to. “It’s a girl.”

In the waiting room of the hospital, just down the hall from where you’re supposed to be having your baby, five sleepy, antsy boys are waiting for one of their friends to rush over to tell them the news.

Jimin, dozing off on Jungkook's shoulder while the youngest let his thoughts eat away at him, had cuddled up to him a little over twenty minutes ago when Jin gave confirmation that you were still pushing. He did his best to hide his worry, but it didn’t work. Jin was conscious, and able to hear clearly when the hospital staff spoke. It wasn’t looking too good.

You and the baby were both… not going to do well if they continued on this way. Jin knew it was going to end in a c-section. It was the only way.

Namjoon, Taehyung and Hoseok sat in a circle on the floor. Empty food containers and cans sat around them, the crew finishing their dinner that they had to fight down. Everyone was so anxious, it was hard to do anything else other than sit and twiddle their thumbs, cracking the occasional stiff air clearing joke.

Jungkook stared off into space, finding interest in his boots, trying his best to not think about Jimin on his shoulder, or you, down the hall in pain. He was hoping that Jimin finding sanctuary on him would ease some of the stress he was dealing with, but it seemed to add more. On his own damn birthday, he couldn’t catch a break.

You having your baby on his birthday, that was exciting, and he couldn’t wait for it to happen. He couldn’t wait to meet your child, hold them, watch them grow up. But, the person he loved like an older sister, a figure who aided in his upbringing for so many years of his life now, was in pain, and hurting, and going through something unimaginable.

He couldn’t imagine how Yoongi felt if it was tearing him up like this. Having to watch it all happen, and not be able to do anything about it…

A quiet sob carried down the hall to the five of them. Jimin lifted his head. Their attention was pointed at the corner, waiting to see who was turning around it.

Jin, with a crying Sunny tucked into his chest. The beauty had her eyes down and a hand covering half of her face. The five boys sat up at attention, watching the couple find a seat, Sunny curling into Jin's body to cry quietly as he held her close.

Jungkooks heart sank so deep it could’ve fallen out of him. His eyes were wide and full of fear as they stared at Jin, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

The eldest looked around at the boys. He took his time to take each one in before he said, “C-section.” A sigh of relief came out of four, all except Jungkook. Jin assumed they were waiting for horrific news. When he found Jungkook’s terror filled eyes watching him, he sent the youngest a small smile and nodded. “She’s okay. She’s going to be okay.” Jungkook looked at Sunny to ask why she was a mess. Jin’s smile turned cheesy. “She’s tired,” he said, rubbing a hand on her back.

“And I can’t go with her,” Sunny cried, sitting up to look at her pouting audience. “I’m supposed to be there with her, she wanted me there.” Jungkook felt tears pool in his eyes. Sunny was the one bit of family that you had left from home. He completely empathized.

“We’ll hear from them soon,” Jin said, easing Sunny back into him. “Yoongi’s got her. You know he won’t let anything happen to her.”

“Truth,” Namjoon nodded, everyone else agreeing with Jin in some way or another.

You were Yoongi’s everything. He would do everything in his power to keep you safe.

On September 1st, 2021 at nine thirty-eight at night, your baby girl was born.

From beyond the curtain that divided you from the doctors, where Yoongi was able to watch the whole thing while remaining by your side, you both got to hear her cry. The sound was sharp and ragged, yet tiny, like she was angry that the doctors had disturbed her slumber. Crying with her, you and Yoongi both, the doctors hurried her away to make sure she was alright, then they swaddled her up and popped her into your boyfriend's arms.

His eyes lit up, full of love, full of pride. He didn’t waste a second. Crouching down he held her between you, pressing her bare cheek to your own, and you swore your heart melted. Unable to feel a thing but your daughter's smooth baby skin against your own, you couldn’t help but begin to cry. Calm now, eyes open just a bit, she gazed up at her father, a carbon copy of him.

“Let me kiss her,” you whispered, voice broken. Yoongi lifted her over you, where you pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I wanna hold her.”

“Soon,” Anya said, still in the room with you. “We’re going to get you back to your room, okay? They’re going to take Baby Girl for more tests, and she’ll be in your arms in no time.” You frowned, your tears continuing to fall.

“Why are they taking her?” you whined. Yoongi held onto your daughter and eyed Anya carefully, already feeling protective over his girls.

The nurse smiled. It took a special person to do her job. You already knew if you had to deal with yourself you would not be this calm. “To help her. To make sure everything is okay. I’ll be right there, and then I’ll be back to check on you.”

Yoongi kissed his daughter's head and slipped her into Anya’s arms hesitantly. “Be careful.” Anya’s smile remained.

“Why don’t you go tell your family she’s here,” she suggested, gesturing to the door. Yoongi looked down at you for an answer. He hadn’t left your side the entire day. In fact, he hadn’t left your side in almost five days. He was about to agree until he watched your eyes flutter shut.

“Hey,” he said quietly, placing a hand to your cheek. Your sleepy eyes opened for a moment, then began to close once more. “Baby, stay awake.” Anya could make out the fear in his tone. Taking the baby where she needed to go, she hurried back to help him out.

“She’s okay,” she soothed, taking his arm. “I promise you, she’s okay. She’s exhausted, and so are you.”

“But she’s-”

The doctors were finishing their work, did they even know you were… falling asleep?

“She’s exhausted,” Anya pointed to a machine beeping in the corner. “If it were anything else, that thing would be going crazy.”

Yoongi followed her finger, and took a deep breath. Looking down at your half open blinking eyes again, he sighed heavily.

“I want a burger,” you whispered before closing them completely.

Anya stifled a laugh, then turned to your boyfriend. “You heard the girl,” she raised her brows. “Go get her a burger. And tell your family your daughter has made her debut in the world.”

The clock read eleven fifteen at night. Your daughter was just over two hours old. Back in the room you started the day in, you were sitting up with her cradled in your arms fast asleep, still swaddled up in the little blanket the doctors had put her in. Yoongi sat on the bed next to you, one of his hands resting on your thigh, watching you watch your baby, eyes full of love the way he was when she was handed to him a couple hours ago.

A styrofoam container with a half eaten burger sat on the bedside table, as did a vase of flowers that came from the boys in the lobby. Yoongi followed instructions and did as he was told, rushing out of the operating room to the angsty boys and Sunny in the waiting room, jumping up and down twice as he cheered the news.

Jungkook and Sunny had leapt to their feet and hurried over to Yoongi, throwing their arms around him. Jin was next, hugging Yoongi entirely too tight, not letting his relief show too clearly. He kept a strong face all day for his best friend. He didn’t need him to know he was scared shitless as well. But, you made it. You both did. Your little family did.

The moment you were back in your room with your baby, your crew gave you twenty minutes maximum alone before they were knocking at the door, softly begging to come in and meet the baby, and of course to see you.

A chorus of soft coo’s echoed in the air when they were allowed in, Yoongi doing the hosting while you recovered in bed cradling your daughter. When Jungkook's feet met the tile of your room his eyes were on you, wide and attentive. He barely gave the baby a glance as he tried to not look like he was rushing to your side.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he released a breath he had been holding since Jin told him you were going into surgery. You were okay. You were sitting here in front of him, holding your baby, doing okay.

“I’m good,” you had told him. All he could do was nod, then look down at the baby girl cradled in your arms. His lips parted in awe, his eyes softening.

“She’s you,” he said, looking up at Yoongi. Everyone had stopped their chatter, their attention focused on Jungkook, the baby, and you. They shared their hushed agreement. It was more than evident that your daughter looked just like her father with her already prominent feline features. “Can I hold her?” he asked with hope, turning toward you.

With a glance to Yoongi who was nodding his head, you gestured him closer as you shouldn’t be doing too much movement, and slowly shifted your girl into his muscly arms. His lips formed a small ‘o’, pouting as she stirred a bit. His eyebrows flipped over. You were watching big, bad, tattooed, now twenty-four year old Jungkook melt into a puddle.

Jimin tiptoed behind him and leaned against his back, resting his chin on Jungkook's shoulder. “She’s beautiful,” he said, giving you and Yoongi a smile. Jungkook turned to look at him, the two sharing a quick, close second, one that someone could've missed if they blinked, and then their eyes were back on the baby.

Everyone had gotten the chance to hold her. Everybody was there who needed to be there. It was a beautiful, horrific, relentless, unforgiving, glorious day. Your daughter was here. The three of you were officially a family.

Now, at this hour of the night, just the three of you in the room, it felt real. It seemed to be hitting you all at once now that it was quiet. Your body was exhausted, as was your mind, but you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of happiness, one so strong you had never felt it before. The love you didn’t know you had for this little one could drown you.

Yoongi shifted closer to the two of you, resting a hand on the bed behind you so he could look down at his twin. You studied him, taking in how his heart seemed to burst out of him as well. He met your gaze and smiled.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, fighting away the quiver in his voice. Your eyes stung with tears, but you weren’t sure if you had any left. “That was the most badass thing I have ever seen you do.” He brushed a thumb over your cheek to swipe away a tear, then he leaned in to kiss you, one long and full of love. Then, he placed one on his daughter's cheek, one soft, and gentle, just barely touching her delicate skin.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, keeping his voice low for the sleeping baby. You smiled, holding in a laugh.

You gazed at him lovingly and said, “She’s you.” Jungkook had said it, and he was right.

“But, she’s half of you,” he countered, eyes dancing over your face. “Two halves of us.”

“I hope she got the good halves,” you joked, then regretted it when you saw Yoongi’s expression falter.

“You’re telling me,” he said, looking down at his girl. You reached out to tuck some of his hair behind his ear and offered him a smile.

“It’s like you promised me at home,” you began, making him lift his eyes to meet yours. “Like how we’ll tell her all about today?” He nodded. “We can tell her all about us. Everything we’ve been through. Being a person is hard, we have to help her.”

Yoongi gave you a small smile. “Together. We’ll help her together.”

“Of course,” you smiled.

The door to the room opened slowly. Both you and Yoongi looked toward it thinking it was Anya coming to take the baby to the nursery, but you were instead greeted by a smiling Jungkook. Yoongi released a gentle sigh, then stood up waving the boy into the room.

“They haven't taken her yet, right?” he asked, walking over to you, holding something behind his back. Looking from him, to the baby, back to him, you smiled. “Thank god.”

“What do you have?” you asked smugly as he sat down where Yoongi had been. Your boyfriend hovered by your head, watching the scene ensue. Jungkook, who couldn’t take his eyes off your daughter, grinned and took it out from behind his back. A small, sage green blanket that was rolled up nicely, tied together with a matching ribbon. He handed it over to you, the soft fabric touching your skin making you sigh.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, trying to unroll it with one hand. “Take her,” you said, looking at Jungkook who jumped into action with a grin, scooping your baby from your arms, holding her close to his chest. Unraveling the ribbon, you unrolled the insanely soft fabric and groaned in disbelief. The blanket was small enough that it would last her a few years before she grew out of it. It was a stunning shade of sage green that matched her bedroom… and Anya’s scrubs.

Looking up at Yoongi, he was already smiling. With a nod he let you know that he already knew what you realized. Pointing your attention to Jungkook who was nearly nose to nose with your daughter, he was admiring her so intently, you hold the blanket to your heart.

“Thanks Uncle Kookie,” you said, and his eyes widened.

“She can call me that?” His question almost came out all at once.

“Course she can,” Yoongi said, then gave the youngest a big smile. “Happy Birthday, Kook.”

Jungkook’s lips pulled down, but he quickly gulped away his tears. Looking from Yoongi, to you, to your daughter, he kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Happy Birthday, little one. Best day ever.”

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